0 comments/ 4400 views/ 6 favorites The Price of the Banshees By: James Cody "Gideon Graveloch: son of Theophorus Graveloch, a blacksmith entrusted with his family's oath – to gather and destroy the weapons of the Divinities as they await for Armageddon. Demons and Angels lost their armouries and seek to find them, for the victor of Armageddon will awaken God and He will judge in their favour. But on Earth they can only observe and whisper. But when a demon and angel stand together they can affect – so they charged Gideon Graveloch with the task of retrieving the weapons scattered across the world by his father. And where the weapons are hidden, so too will he find the Beasts. Gideon refused but his wife and daughter were condemned to the Abyss until all the weapons are collected and a new batch can be forged. This is his quest ..." The forest was dank and dark – the encroaching canopy of leaves blotted any star that might have otherwise caressed the forest floor with it timeless echo of starlight. Within the shadows between the trees, a lone figure was pressed against the mossy earth. He was covered with the detritus of the early fall season and his face was caked sombrely with coal black dirt. Insects and vermin crawled across his hands and nose but he remained silent – his scent was buried beneath the blanket of forest he had worn for the past two days. He awaited the Torathar Sidhe. 2 days earlier The village of Dowster was plagued with a horror that many had tried to defeat to gain the 10 schilling reward the mayor had promised. But the shadowed woods around the village filled with the horrid wailing song of the Women of the Sidhe. Would be heroes fought uselessly against the nameless beast that scoured the wood and left many a man no more than a heap of putrid, bloodied flesh and shattered bone. When the nights grew frigid and the sounds of the village and the woods fell away to unearthly silence, the nameless horror wandered the paths throughout the town until it found its prey – the chosen young woman recently come of age was snatched and her parents were always found in the same bloodied state as the fallen hunters who sought it out. But the silence that heralded the beast came after the Women of the Sidhe – the banshees – wailed for the fate of the townsfolk. But another kind of silence settled over this night; the moon was watchful of the lone cloaked figure saddled upon a strangely grey stallion. The figure was broad of shoulder and thick of chest and his head was adorned with a black tricorn hat. His gloved hands held a relaxed grip upon his mount's reigns as he steered the mighty horse along the weaving road of the town – a well throned over the town's main square and a ragged watermill dominated the northern edge of the town, fed by the Dowster's Tear river. The cry of the killdeers resounded and stray dogs huddled near the warm exhausts of low storied houses while the occasional cat paused from their nightly trek along the rooftops to peer at the arriving stranger. He patted the horse's powerful neck and whispered soothingly in its ear as it whinnied plaintively at being surrounded so tightly by hard things. The stranger dismounted the steed when it halted by the sign of the Rounder's Inn. The old oak door creaked loudly as the stranger pushed it open although it resisted him like a stubborn mule. But once inside, it closed quietly while he descended a few stairs and entered the mess hall of the inn. An assortment of long and round tables littered the hall while the far wall was bordered by a wide bar and behind the bar was a small kitchen. A ruddy featured man was wiping the bar with a partially soiled rag while a young woman cleared some tables. Some patrons were huddled in a corner and whispered as the cloaked stranger saddled up to the bar. The barkeep looked up at the tall, broad shouldered stranger as he removed his tricorn hat and deposited it on the bar – the keep snorted at the stranger's unwanted presence but suddenly swallowed hard when he met the stranger's cold blue eyes, framed by a mane of long, dark brown hair. His face was broad and his cheek bones high and his chin was strong. His nose was regal, but a bit crooked , and his lips were thin but still sensual. He placed a silver schilling on the bar. "A room," the stranger said, his voice low and gravelly. "Of course sir," the inn keep shined as he picked the coin and bit in to it. His sweat dripped onto the bar. "This'll cover for nearly a fortnight." "Don't plan on staying that long." "So you're in town for the reward, eh?" the inn keep chuckled conspiratorially. "Do I look like I am wanting for coin?" It was then that the inn keep noticed the the cool basket hilt broadsword hanging restlessly from the stranger's left thigh and the hilt of a dagger from his right. "Another would-be hero, men!" A voice bellowed from the entrance to the hall -- shadows danced as hanging oil-lamps swayed under the disturbance. The stranger listened as their footfalls shuffled towards the bar – the inn keep backed away as his eyes shifted from the men to the stranger and back. "Please, Hebbler, he's paying good money," the inn keep pleaded. "Then he owes us the welcoming committee tax," the one called Hebbler snickered. The stranger turned slowly to face the committee – they were four. Hebbler was at the head of the group as they formed a semi-circle around him. The two largest men stood on each side of the stranger. "I'm no hero – and I never expect to feel welcomed anywhere," the stranger warned. "Collect your fee somewhere else." Hebbler involuntarily took a step back when he locked eyes with the stranger. "One of you or all of you?" the stranger growled. "What?" "Will one of you or all of you be be carried out of here?" the stranger hissed darkly – and then he pivoted to the left as the largest man rushed him. The stranger grabbed the man's wrist and used it as a lever to redirect his momentum and exposed his left side – his knee crashed into the man's ribs while he finished the man off with a punch to the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious. As the man fell, his companion struck from the right – the stranger slapped the punch aside and delivered a powerful kick to side of his attacker's knee. The man crumbled against the bar and the stranger landed and elbow to the man's temple, slamming his head into the bar's hardwood side. Two were now unconscious on the floor. The stranger was immobile while his eyes pierced Hebbler's trembling heart. The third man with him backed away and fled the inn. "You're related to the power in the town – nephew or son of the mayor? This is the only place you have any worth, isn't it? By your garb you've been to either London or Glasgow but you were a minnow among the sharks. You're top dog here but you hate yourself for failing to stop the attacks – yet you fear being upstaged even more. "I don't give a fuck about you or your little power plays – I will see whomever is in charge on the morrow." Hebbler nodded feebly and he managed to rouse his battered companions under the unfeeling eyes of the stranger. Once they were gone, the stranger pulled another five shillings from his purse. "For my horse and your troubles," the stranger said. The innkeeper smiled sheepishly and said: "Hebbler has been trouble ever since he returned from Glasgow. His goons were the Parrignton boys – never saw a man route those bastards the way you did. My name's Reginald Vance-Altham. But my friends call me Rounder. What's your name, friend?" The stranger pondered for a moment. "Gideon Graveloch." "I'll remember that, my lord. Your room is upstairs and the second from the left." Gideon nodded his thanks and followed Rounder's instructions. @@@@@ Gideon hung his heavy cloak and his tricorn hat on the stubs behind the wooden door of his fashionable room at the Rounder's inn – before closing the door he paused and lit a small oil lamp and a set of candles on the table next to the cot that was to be his bed. He sniffed it and it was clean enough; he unhooked his scabbard and his dagger and placed the knife next to the candles and then pulled off the small sac that held his belongings and the tesseract chest. Gideon paused a moment before opening it, casting a glance at the crucifix adorning the doorway to his room – he wondered it the man knew what was being done in his name. He then put a hand on each side of the palm sized chest and moved his hands apart. The chest expanded to 5 times its size and it opened. He reached inside and pulled out a journal, a sketchbook and some plumes. There was also a glow and a hum from deep within the chest but he ignored both. He closed the chest and it shrank back to its original size and he sat on the bed – he flicked the sketchbook open and looked upon the detailed rendering of a beautiful young woman and a lovely young girl. His eyes lingered on their serene faces before he flipped to another page. A ravenous mouth full of teeth stared back at him and there was a date at the bottom of the page. On another page was the image of a man with no skin on his skull and a chest full of razor sharp blades. Six other pages, 6 other beasts, 6 other dates – and with each he had found a prize he had put in the chest and the Hosts of Heaven and Hell were closer to their final battle. He put the sketchbook aside when he suddenly glanced at his room door – the floorboards creaked ever so gently as a light step strode towards his room. The footfalls stopped in front of the door and a faint rapping made the wood shiver. Gideon opened the door and was met by the shy brown eyes of a flowering young woman. The top of her bonnet-covered head reached just beneath his chin as he stepped aside and allowed her into the room. She carried a tray holding a bowl of hot stew and a bottle of port wine. "Compliments of my father," she said in a heavenly voice. "I thank Rounder for his generosity," Gideon said. She placed the tray on the table and uncorked the port and poured Gideon a glass. She then went to the door and closed it. "How old are you?" Gideon asked as he grasped the glass and sipped the port. "Nineteen years, my lord," she answered and removed her bonnet. Long blond air cascaded around her opal shaped face. "You're very young -- is Rounder aware you're here?" Gideon asked as he stood next to her, noticing she had inherited her father's eyes and cleft chin. "My father said a man like you does two things very well," she said as she faced him. "I witnessed one of your talents earlier tonight. I felt it was time to witness the other ... firsthand." Gideon touched her shoulder and let his fingers trail down the length of her arm. "I'm not a gentleman – I've done horrible things." "I know," she said. She breathed deeply, her partially exposed bosom heaving while her flawless alabaster complexion flushed. "But that's just Man's nature." "You're too young to ponder such things," Gideon whispered as he began to undo the girdle cinched beneath her pert breasts and around her stomach. "What's your name?" "Dorothy," she sighed. She gasped when the girdle fell to the floor. Gideon returned his hands to Dorothy's shoulders and slid them across her skin, pushing back the edges of her scooped neck collared dress until it fell to the floor. Her body tensed when Gideon touched her forehead with his lips. But she soon relaxed when his lips found hers and she melted against his broad chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and their lips danced – where his advances were controlled, she was wild. With each kiss he pinched her thumb-sized nipple or caressed the small of her back; she was aggressively attacking his britches, her fingers awkward but determined. They twirled around the small room in a dance of kisses until they fell onto the rickety cot that served as his bed, knocking over the small chest he had touched a few minutes earlier. Gideon was on his back while Dorothy undid his shirt – his eyes wandered across her youthful beauty and he rested his hands on her curvaceous hips. She straightened and stretched her arms behind her head, pushing her breasts to the forefront. Gideon sat up and cupped them and crushed them together and plowed her nipples with his wanton tongue – she cooed as little sparks of pleasure coursed through her body. It reminded her of early explorations of her flesh by her own hand – but another's hand enhanced the sensations. Gideon released his hold on her breasts and aided Dorothy in her struggle with his shirt. Once it was off, she brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped – his chest was well defined, as were his arms and shoulders, but the sheen of hair across his body was intersected with crisscrossing scars. "My god," Dorothy uttered and slipped away from his reach and moved to the edge of the cot. "Those scars," she whispered, her lower lip trembling with fright that masked and underlying desire. No one should have to go through that." "I told you -- I did horrible things," Gideon tossed his legs over the side of the cot and sat, his head hanging over his upturned hands. In the presence of this delicate young woman, willing to offer her taut body, Gideon suddenly felt the weight of his mission and his shoulders slumped. His mind wandered back to the night the shadows reached out and snatched his family – his wife Tess and his daughter Caressa – and took them. Collateral, he was told. But before the memories could bury him, Gideon felt a gentle touch upon his knees – Dorothy was before him, on her knees while she massaged his thighs. Gideon gaze met hers -- his usually cold blue eyes were lightened by her presence. Beyond her presence, he perceived her fascination for the world and her desire to experience its myriad facets. Her boldness demonstrated a thirst for sensation and delight, yet he noticed the slightest tremor of her lower lip and hesitation in her touch. Gideon took Dorothy's hands in his and stood up while leading her to her feet. He turned her around and pushed her back onto the cot. He took a kneeling position by the edge of the cot and pushed back on her thighs. Her folds were plump with excitement while droplets of her pussy's moistness wetted her inner thighs. He pressed his tongue to her tangy skin and slowly licked from her knees towards her pussy. Dorothy shivered and goosebumps riddled her flesh as Gideon's tongue grew closer to her nethers – she was frightened and fascinated by what he was doing. Her understanding of sex was that men fucked women with their cocks – if they were sweet they would kiss you. Gideon had kissed her in a way that was dangerous but gentle, and he was repeating the same kisses in a place she had never even seen before. Gideon sensed her trepidation so he slowed his pace and replaced his licks with gentle pecks – Dorothy squirmed as her skin seemed to burn everywhere he kissed her. She felt her pussy moisten all the more as his delicate touch drove her more towards an odd madness which prompted her to pinch her nipples hard, drawing a hiss from her lips. But it caught in her throat and she froze when she felt his lips encounter the soft folds of her wet pussy. He wiggled his tongue where only her fingers had travelled and Dorothy became like a leaf twisting in the wind as each point of contact between his tongue and her pussy made her convulse with pleasure. Dorothy was awashed in tides of sensations she had never felt so intently – she suddenly wondered if this made her a witch like the old traditions had labelled women who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. And she wondered if that was why she had been drawn to this man who had neighboured the darkness of the world that she had never known. Gideon laboured slowly around the aroused nub of her clitoris – he parted the lips of her pussy and ran his tongue from the bottom of the slit of her pussy to the tip of her clit. His breath was hot against her flesh and Dorothy moaned loudly as she surrendered to her bliss and her body expressed its pleasure with a dance of limbs and a symphony of sighs. "Ohhh ... Ahhh ...!" Dorothy moaned as Gideon's tongue lead her to the irrevocable climax – when his fingers caressed the edges of her slit she screamed and a gush of fluid erupted from her pussy and across his chin. Dorothy was devastated by the release of her orgasm and the subsequent exhaustion gripped her and she laid her head back onto the cot. Gideon stood and went over to the plateau she had brought in and used a napkin to wipe her juices from his chin. He then poured a glass of port wine and drank it down, the taste tangier as it mixed with her fluids in his mouth. He set the glass down and went back to the cot where Dorothy had curled up and fallen asleep. He looked down at her and remembered Tess – she had been younger than Gideon – and on their first night she had curled up on their wedding bed in the same manner. Gideon covered Dorothy with a wool blanket and laid next to her. He fell asleep cursing his father. 1 day earlier Gideon had left Rounder's inn without breakfast but after downing some bitter tea imported from China – he had declined the laudanum tincture Dorothy has offered him when she assumed her role as serving girl. Gideon noticed that she never strayed so far that she could not spy him from the corner of her eye. Slipping from the inn, Gideon now stood at the outskirts of the town – he sniffed the air and registered the scent of peat moss and decomposition. The scent of the leaves and the conifers blanketed the other smells. Yet he could perceive through the odours of life and death the distinct scent of sulphur and brimstone that always heralded the coming of a Beast. He reached into his cloak and found the hidden pocket that held the flint lock pistol the nephilim Landra had given him before his journey. It was the only guaranteed weapon to destroy the Beasts. When he destroyed the Beast terrorizing Dowster, he would be a step closed to releasing his family from Limbo, but also a step closer to the battle of Armageddon. "Four girls have been taken over 4 months," a crackling voice echoed from Gideon's left – he had barely registered the lithe footfalls of his new found companion before the elderly woman had spoken. Very few people were silent enough to approach him unnoticed. Her silver hair was pulled into a tight bun and her red and blue dress hung loosely on her frail body. "You're the town's crone," Gideon said as he removed his tricorn hat and bowed before her. "But also its power." "My son is the mayor," she said, brushing aside Gideon's comment. "but I will admit to having his ear when I have an opinion to share." "No doubt, lady ..?" "Madelyne. Madelyne Hebbler." Gideon smiled as he returned his tricorn hat to his head and extended an arm so that he and Lady Madelyne could stroll the town limits. "So it was your grandson I met last night," he said as he matched her slow but steady pace. "I often felt he required a lesson in manners," she said as her hook like fingers held his sleeve with surprising strength. "The same could be said of travellers. You should not touch what belongs to another." "Dorothy came to me of her own free will," Gideon said as he noticed a crow perched high on a tree branch, observing them as they passed. "She is promised to my grandson nonetheless, Mr Graveloch," Madelyne said gravely. "I am aware of the stories that precede you, sir. The world of the occult is small and I have an ear to it as well. Destroy the Beast and take whatever bounty you find and be gone to woo another maiden." "Perhaps I should bed you," Gideon said as a he stopped by a trail that lead into the deeper section of the woods. "I am not a libertine, lady Hebbler, despite rumours to the contrary. Dorothy Vance-Altham's maidenhood is safe." The Price of the Banshees "Good," lady Hebbler said. "I don't mind her exploring as long as Benjamin's is the only cock to seed her womb." "I am sorry for your tragedy," she added when they had taken a few more steps. "Thank you. How much have you heard?" "Little other than that you are cursed and that your family was condemned." Gideon smiled sadly and said: "I wish I shared your lack of knowledge." Gideon halted and looked up to the western horizon and noted the declining sun and his face turned cold. "I suggest you have your coachman return you to your manor. The night will be an agitated one." Lady Hebbler gasped as she understood Gideon's meaning – she backed away and returned to her coach while he stood gravely and listened to groans of the woods as a doorway to another place opened. @@@@@ Rounder was preparing for his nightly collection of stalwart patrons when Gideon entered the dining hall and sprinted up the staircase to his room. Just as he passed the threshold of his door, the night was upon the town and the rising wail of the banshees blanketed the streets. The old innkeeper understood their would be no patrons tonight and that the streets would be deserted. Perhaps a city watch would be prowling the alleys in an attempt to thwart the unseen terror, but he also knew such attempts would be in vain. The man upstairs was their only hope. "Dorothy," Rounder cried. "Gather supplies and go to the cellar." Dorothy looked at her father and then towards the staircase and her heart seized – she knew that the man called Gideon would face whatever prowled the night and she felt pity for whatever faced him. @@@@@ Gideon burst into his room and retrieved the tiny box he had opened the night before – it grew to ten times its size when he pulled at the box's corners and he whipped it open. He reached inside and pulled out a piece embroidered leather and slammed the box shut. He then threw off the tricorn hat and his cloak, rummaged in its lining and retrieved the flint lock pistol the cloak concealed. The wailing of the banshees grew in intensity when Gideon jumped the stairs and burst out of the inn – from across the road, young Hebbler and his companions from the other night carried muskets and swords. They paused when they saw Gideon – one pointed as Gideon took the strip of embroidered leather and placed it over his eyes. As his sight went black, Gideon recited an invocation and the world around him opened under an invisible light. Hebbler and his cronies appeared as skeletal sketches of humanity while the buildings seemed to vibrate with the memories of all those who had passed before their current occupants. It allowed him to see the wandering souls of the unclaimed as they drifted in and out of this realm. But they were all frozen in place by the wail of the banshees Gideon motioned for Hebbler and his men to return to their abodes before the terror appeared. But when the wail of the banshees fell silent, all motion stopped in the world of the living while the inhabitants of the spirit world simply skittered and hid. Gideon remained still as the air seemed to grow dark as a shadow spread from the woods – the forest was the only structure that remained identical on both sides of life. Gideon steadied his breathing and waited as the shadow from the forest coalesced into a solid figure at the edge of the town. He moved slowly and faced the oncoming terror – invisible to those breaking breath, Gideon saw the beast as twice size of a male lion. But its muscular limbs stopped midway and grayish bones formed its legs and tail – the bones were held together by rusted chains lubricated by blood. Its skull was a broken hulk of bone and its jaw was lined by oblique, jagged teeth dripping with oily black saliva and its mane was a bouquet of sharp shards of mirrored glass. What caught Gideon's focused attention was the beast's pelt – what he thought at first were pulsing boils were clearly now bodies stretched across its oddly muscled form. They were women – beautiful women with firm bosoms and long hair and pleasing hips – women woven into the beast's skin, their mouths shaped in screams of terror, but also of obscene pleasure. Gideon understood that this beast was the Torathar Sidhe – the Beast of the Mound and predator of the banshees. For each banshee it consumed, it had to replace it with the spirit of an untouched maiden. The Beast moved silently throughout the paralysed town with a deliberate pace – it paused on occasion and unleashed a long, forked tongue that caressed the ground and the lodgings closest to it. The Torathar also ran its agile tongue around the few frozen bystanders that had not sought shelter when the banshees first wailed. The Beast found Benjamin Hebbler and wrapped its tongue around his head – the young man was helpless as a vortex of cold air wrapped itself around him and he felt all blood rush from his limbs and then an odd tingling caressed the base of his neck. Hebbler could not scream as Gideon witnessed the ethereal Beast peeled away his memories and consume what thoughts the young man was feeling. In the living world, Hebbler felt as though his head would explode as his identity was being ripped apart. Gideon leaped across the muddy road and Hebbler eyes widened when Gideon's sword slashed seemingly empty air. But Gideon's sword had an effect and a black, moist, leathery appendage materialized and fell to the ground before Hebbler's feet. In the ethereal world, the Beast recoiled from Gideon's strike and snarled silently at the man, its mouth spewing thick, black ichor and the beautiful women in its flesh flushing red with excitement. Gideon reached for his flintlock pistol but before he could cock it, the Beast launched itself at him and struck him like a bull, its oblique teeth tearing deep gashes in Gideon's upper chest and shoulder. Gideon soundlessly grunted as he flew in the air and crashed into the doors of the Rounder's Inn. The heavy oak doors splintered on impact and Gideon lay stunned and bloodied. All this happened silently before the eyes of a terrified Hebbler. Gideon was already regaining his bearings when the Beast rushed the inn, forcing Gideon to roll to one side to avoid a trampling – he scrambled to his feet and retrieved the flintlock pistol that had landed a few feet from him. He cocked it but the Beast had torn the floorboards of the inn apart and, acting on the memories it had syphoned from Hebbler, it found a cringing Dorothy Vance-Altham and galloped towards Gideon, the young woman frozen in its jaws. He fell backwards as the Beast lept over him but managed to press the stalk of the pistol against the bleeding gashes in his chest – his blood flowed into grooved designs carved into the pistol's body and he pulled the trigger. The lead slug shot through the Beast and tore a hole through the figure of the woman wrapped around its spine, a geyser of ichor gushing visibly in the living world but the Beast was not halted until it reached the edge of the woods. It turned to face Gideon as he held his flintlock and the slug flew back into the muzzle; Dorothy's face was streaked with horrified tears and the Beast slowly dissipated into a dark, smoky shadows while the women in its flesh reached out to him in despair and disappeared into the forest to the renewed wail of the banshees. When the wails subsided, the village of Dowster returned to life while Gideon fell to one knee – across from him Hebbler was curled into a foetal position and rocked from side to side. His cronies had fled the street after witnessing the battle between Gideon and the terror who left its traces in the form of inky black blood and the destruction of Rounder's Inn. Fires had erupted from toppled oil lamps and cast meandering shadows on the muddy paths intersecting before the inn. Gideon growled and struggled to his feet and ripped the leather binding from his eyes when Rounder Vance-Altham emerged from the broken floor of the crumbling inn. "Dorothy!!" Rounder screamed as he staggered onto the ashen street. Gideon was running back towards the inn when Rounder grabbed his arm as they crossed paths. "Graveloch! The thing took her ..." Rounder sobbed. "I know," Gideon said. "Bring her back to me," Rounder pleaded. Gideon put his hands on the old inn keep's shoulders and said: "I'll find her." Present The forest was dank and dark – the encroaching canopy of leaves blotted any star that might have otherwise caressed the forest floor with it timeless echo of starlight. Within the shadows between the trees, a lone figure was pressed against the mossy earth. He was covered with the detritus of the early fall season and his face was caked sombrely with coal black dirt. Insects and vermin crawled across his hands and nose but he remained silent – his scent was buried beneath the blanket of forest he had worn for the past day. He awaited the Torathar Sidhe. Gideon had tracked the Beast to an elevated, moss covered mound that intersected with a meridional ley line so the barriers between the various dominions were weakest. He carried the flintlock pistol that had failed him for the first time – blood was always the needed primer to charge the weapon but his blood had been insufficient. He had a thought about what was needed, but he hoped his epiphany was mistaken. The sun was slowly setting and as the moon replaced it, elements around the mound began to glow. Fires erupted around the base of the mound and as they flared and burned out, a slender figure replaced the flames and a woman would stand silently in vigil. He counted five of them, and each was dressed in a simple gown that draped over their various sensual shapes – these were the Women of the Sidhe, the banshees. But as Gideon observed them, he recognized that they were in truth the women taken from Dowster. Roots protruded from the ground and pierced the fine skin of their feet, pooling blood where they stood. But the fifth woman was different – her eyes were closed but there was no blood where she stood and her feet extended into the ground as roots. On her head was a crown of leather and leaves. She was of the banshee. On the top of the mound, a great bonfire blazed and from its core emerged the Torathar Sidhe – it dragged a chain with its hideous maw and Dorothy was pulled forward unceremoniously. The chain left reddish grooves in her delicate skin and her dress was torn, exposing her womanhood to the harsh elements. A mist arose from the woods and seemed to dance around the motionless Women of the Mound while the Torathar opened its maw and unleashed a thunderous howl that shook the very fabric of the forest. Gideon trembled slightly as a cold, powerful wind was raised in the living world as evidence of the Beast's fury. The blood magic he needed to destroy this creature would demand a greater sacrifice than he could offer alone. With that knowledge, Gideon emerged from the forest floor – at once, the eyes of the bound women snapped open while the Beast ruffled its mane of glass shards. Its regrown forked tongue tasted the air and the Beast snarled; the banshees laced into its pelt sighed and gasped while trying to touch their privates; the last true Banshee kept her eyes closed while her blood red lips trembled. The Beast growled as Gideon drew his broadsword and approached the line of detained women from Dowster as they strained against the roots shackling their feet – the Beast moved lazily down the mound, dragging Dorothy in its wake until it stood only a few feet from Gideon. His eyes locked with the obsidian orbs of the Torathar before meeting Dorothy's. Her eyes were slung heavy with a stupor born from a dire spell the Beast had cast, but Gideon could detect a measure of recognition deep beyond her awkwardness. But before he could act, the crowned Banshee opened her eyes and turned towards Gideon with eyes are black as the Beast's and she began to sob softly. "My sisters," Gideon heard in his head. The voice was like a melody he had suddenly remembered from a far away youth – familiar but strange. "I must be allowed to join them." His eyes met the banshee's while at the periphery of his vision, the Beast was charging him. "I must destroy it," Gideon thought. "I can free them – and the women it stole. But an innocent will perish." The Torathar's open, salivating jaw was inches from Gideon's head. "I will lament for them," the Banshee promised. Before Gideon could enquire about them, a figure crashed into him and knocked him away from the Beast's snapping teeth at the last, impossible moment. Gideon thudded against the ground and rolled roughly over pointed rocks that shredded his shirt and dug deep into his flesh, spilling rivulets of blood on the ground. To his left, Benjamin Hebbler was groaning as he fought to return to his feet. The Torathar roared in anger and turned towards Hebbler, determined to tear the man's heart from his bleeding carcass. Hebbler stood and slowly staggered away from the pouncing Beast – Gideon had retrieved his broadsword and threw himself between Hebbler and his predator. His caught the beast by the throat and even as its front claws lacerated his back, Gideon jammed his sword through the beast's jaw till his blade splintered its skull. The Beast snarled and wrenched the sword from Gideon's hand. As the Torathar struggled with the sword, Gideon withdrew a dagger and attacked the chain binding Dorothy to the Beast's flesh. Gideon struggled but the links were strong – he then jabbed the dagger into the ground and carved a symbol resembling an ankh. He then touched the blade to his bloodied shoulder, coating it crimson and he then spat on the knife twice and stabbed the symbol. Citing an incantation, the symbol glowed intensely before disappearing. He only had a few moments before the spell dissipated but he managed to carve through the chain and pull a dazed Dorothy away from the battle an into the cover of the woods. It was then that all banshees wailed their sorrowful lament. @@@@@ The Torathar had fallen upon Benjamin Hebbler and its trenchant claws dug scarlet grooves into his flesh. His breathing was harsh and laboured as he felt his last gasp approaching. He had failed Dorothy. But before the Torathar could deliver its final blow, Gideon had thrown his still enchanted dagger with deadly accuracy and the blade struck deep in the Beast's eye, popping the obsidian orb in a puff of foul smoke. The banshees lined in its skin moaned a growing lament while the women of Dowster – still rooted to the mound – wailed. The Torathar howled in pain and anger and backed away from the wounded Hebbler boy, the chains that surrounded its lower limbs clanged sharply. Gideon ran to the bloodied youth and lifted head to cradle it. "Fool," Gideon spat angrily. "Should never have followed me." "It was for her," Hebbler said, punctuating his words with coughing blood. Gideon looked down at Hebbler's chest and could see past his bloodied ribs and witness the struggle of his pink lungs. "I had to do something – but I always knew she'd be the death of me." Gideon looked over at the woods where he had hidden Dorothy Vance-Altham."I can save you – save you both," Gideon promised. "No!" Hebbler screamed while grabbing Gideon's collar with his bloodied hand. "Save Dorothy. Only her. Let this be my one ... unselfish act." Gideon nodded and released his flint-lock pistol he had strung to his back. "Innocent blood can destroy this Beast. But I will have to destroy you." "For her ... do what you must." "Divine blood of this dying unsullied," Gideon said as he placed the pistol on Hebbler's chest. "Fuel the shell and replenish the faith of those yet to fall." The Blood in Hebbler's wounds defied nature and reached like tendrils towards the grooves in the carved brass and walnut of the pistol. Once the wounds were emptied, blood flowed into the weapon from Hebbler's mouth, nose and eyes, as well as from the shredded flesh of his chest. Gideon watched as Hebbler emptied himself of what was left of his blood, his cracked lips forming Dorothy's name until his last gasp escaped his collapsed lungs. "I'm sorry." Gideon whispered as he kissed the young man's forehead, understanding Hebbler's fear and frustration and the longing unrequited love could fester. Gideon Graveloch stood to his full height and turned to face the Torathar – the Beast had worked his dagger from its eye and had found Dorothy; it was carrying her limp form back towards the mound. Her blood dripped along the creature's jaw where its teeth had pierced her skin. Gideon sprinted ahead of the leisurely paced Beast until he stood next to the crowned Banshee. She struggled with the roots that extended from her feet and into the earth, tears rolling down her cheeks while her brethren pleasured themselves in the hide of the Torathar. Gideon understood the Beast meant to consume the banshee and replenish its hide with her set Dorothy as the new Banrion of the Women of the Mound. The Torathar would do what ever it did until it needed a new hide and found another mound and more banshees to consume and replace. Gideon cocked the pistol and aimed at the Beast's skull – it seemed to snicker until Gideon pulled the trigger. The flint struck the primer and a large burst of flame erupted from the weapon as well as a rain of steaming blood that showered Gideon and the crowned Banshee. The shell tore from the pistol and streaked towards the Torathar – it had dropped Dorothy and reared up on its hind legs until the shell ripped through its hide. The force of the shot knocked the Beast to the ground, black ichor spraying from its wound. Before the Torathar could recover, the shell drew a sharp arc in the air and slammed back into the Beast. The shell pierced the hide of the Torathar again, throwing gallons of its blood and chunks of its flesh into the air and onto the ground. Within minutes, as the shell completed its choreography of destruction, the carcass of the Torathar was stripped of its cursed flesh until its bones bathed in a pink and red and grey cloud of moist meat. The crowned Banshee sobbed while Gideon held his pistol outstretched and the shell, complete in its mission, returned to its home. As the gory mist settled to the ground, the crowned Banshee ceased to cry – the bones of the Torathar rattled as four nude women emerged the Beast's wreckage. Blood and gore dripped between their bountiful bosoms and down the creases between their hips as as they approached their sister banshee. Gideon stepped aside as the banshee sisters embraced -- he heard a cracking sound and he turned to see that the roots binding the women of Dowster were breaking. The young women joined together in a circle born of fear and modesty as their torn clothing exposed them to the night's chill. Through the tumult of the liberation of the Banshees, Gideon heard a moan and he rushed to Dorothy's side – she sported a half dozen oozing puncture wounds around her back and stomach where the Torathar had held her in its maw. Gideon touched her forehead and felt a steadily rising fever while noticing a blackening web spreading slowly from her wounds. She had been cursed. "No," he whispered . Gideon had only seconds to work against the Beast's final, posthumous assault – he quickly found the small pouch on his belt and extracted a small piece of white wood that he began to chew. It was a piece of the rod of Ascelpius, given to him by the Nephelim agent that outfitted him for his ordeal. He spat the chewed morsel into his palm and then rubbed it into the rendered flesh of Dorothy's stomach. The power of the rod coursed through her veins and she screamed as she embattled against the curse. After a few convulsions, Dorothy had steadied and her wounds had already begun to heal. Gideon lifted her off the ground and carried her to the huddled women of Dowster and said: "Take her. There's a path just beyond the edge of the woods – it will take you home." The Price of the Banshees The oldest of the young women stood and helped Gideon settle Dorothy to her feet and another woman slid beneath her arm to support her. Gideon found a piece of wood and pronounced the word ignis and it caught in flames. He handed the torch to the eldest young woman. "Thank you sir," she said as Gideon pointed them in the direction back to Dowster. He nodded. When Gideon turned to examine the remains of the Torathar, he encountered a wall of naked Banshees, their Banrion staring at him intently with her coal eyes. @@@@@ "Rejoice with us, cursed man," the Banshee Banrion said, her voice commanding and mellifluous. "You have returned my sisters to me. We so rarely cry in joy." "You could forget your curse for a night," the five banshees said in unison. "My curse ... its all I have." "We know, but tonight you have us." @@@@@ Gideon was submerged in warm kisses as the four banshees he freed from the Torathar stripped him of his garments and pressed their lips to his arms an shoulders as more of his skin was exposed – he felt his nipples harden as a banshee flick her tongue across his chest; he felt pointy nipples poke his back as one wrapped her arms around his waist and undid his belt. He closed his eyes and felt 4 pairs of hands roam across his body, caressing his hips and buttocks – he stiffened when he felt fingers cup his balls and wrap around his hardening cock. Gideon also felt an odd griminess coat his limbs and after opening his eyes, he saw he was now as slick as the banshees, covered in the unnatural blood and meat of the Torathar. But the writhing of the banshees quickly helped him forget the gore and he surrendered to the probing tongues that crossed his lips – one tongue and then another traded places as the banshees consumed their lust with his lips. Behind the wanton spirit folk, the banshee Banrion was removing her simple velvet dress and undid the embroidered leather tressed into her black hair and it fell in a long cascade past her shoulders and down to her buttocks. Gideon's breath caught in his throat as he was exposed to the Banrion's form: she was more slender than her sisters – her breasts were smaller and firmer and her hips were slim but equally rounded, she moved with a more feral grace that harkened an exquisite experience. The Banrion approached him and her sisters stepped aside as the Banrion wrapped her arms around Gideon's neck and they kissed passionately. Human and banshee fell to the ground while the other banshee sisters paired together – Gideon was seated with the Banrion on his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist while his hard manhood stood vigil between them. His lips had found her nipple and he was sucking greedily on it, drawing from the Banrion moans that echoed through the wood with superior alacrity to the laments of the banshees. The Banrion clutched Gideon's hair and kissed the top of his head. To their side, enraptured by the bliss that was enveloping the mound, two of the Banrion's sisters were exploring each others bodies with hungry fingers and ravenous mouths – another sister watched the Banrion and Gideon while she sat on her knees, her fingers working furiously at her sex. Above them, clouds had formed and a rainfall had started, cleansing them of the gore of the Torathar. The last banshee stood away from the lovers and cupped her hands to collect the rain and pour it over Benjamin Hebbler's body, washing the blood from his face, arms, and chest. Her lament was quiet and was carried by the rain. Gideon pushed the Banrion onto her back and kissed her roughly, his tongue an unrelenting explorer of her mouth as the cold nature of the spirits of Otherworld merged with the fire of desire. He then licked his way past her swelling breasts until he parted her legs and found her cunt – he was happy that the banshees appeared as women in all their glory. The Banrion gasped as Gideon parted the lips of her sex and he plunged his tongue deep into her. He lapped as her juices dripped and she was seized with a bliss that had always been deprived her. Next to them, three of the Banrion's sisters were lying on their sides, each with her face buried in her kin's nethers and they committed the acts Gideon was performing. Their voices merged into melody of moans and sighs as they knew passion beyond their experience. The lone banshee supported Hebbler's head on her knees while she straightened his tattered garments, making him more presentable and less like slaughtered chattel. The Banrion was moaning loudly as Gideon used his fingers in her pussy and moved them rapidly as he sought the hear her pleasure – they had almost instinctively changed positions and the Banrion was astride his chest while her face within reach of his warm, hard manhood. She touched it tentatively, unsure of how to manage this aspect of life. Gideon moved his hips and the tip of his cock brushed against her inhuman lips – she parted them and allowed his cock to enter her mouth. There was a silkiness to the tip she had not expected and found the sensation thrilling. The Banrion started to bob her head on his manhood, taking it deep into her throat beyond the point where a human woman would choke. They soon established a rhythm where they each felt and gave pleasure the pushed away any sadness they might have felt. The other banshees disbanded their sensual unison and two of them joined Gideon and the Banrion – one plied her tongue to Gideon's manhood while the other moved to join him in kissing the Banrion's pussy. Gideon moved slightly and allowed this yellow haired banshee Bui to straddle his face and he partook of pleasuring her with his tongue while she slipped two fingers in her Banrion's pussy. The brown haired banshee Donn joined her red haired sister Rua and they held each other as the lament for Benjamin Hebbler grew stronger. Gideon felt himself slipping away in a fog of bliss as he relented to the delicious sensation of the banshee Banrion and her green haired sister Uaine showering his cock with kisses and licks; in the back of his mind, where his reason had taken refuge while his baser instincts -- so aroused by Dorothy's visit to his room – controlled his actions, he pondered his desire to possess these spirit folk. Was he unable to desire a living woman? Was he subjugating his fear of betraying his wife's memory by bedding these inhuman creatures? But Gideon's ponderings were short lived as the 2 banshees and their Banrion had moved off of him despite his cock's protests. They had assumed a position before him, each on their hands and knees, Banrion in the centre as she was flanked by banshee Bui on the left and the banshee Uaine on the right. "Possess us," the banshees pleaded. 'Fuck us!" Banrion ordered. @@@@@ Donn and Rua held their arms around each others shoulders and stood between the cooling corpse of Benjamin Hebbler and the orgy happening before them. Gideon pressed his cock against Bui's slit and pushed himself inside her. She gasped as she was stretched by Gideon's ambitious manhood – the banshee had never been so intimate with life as burning flame and not as a dying ember. Her fluids flowed freely from her pussy, and as Gideon's cock glided across the supernatural flesh of her sex, she was submerged in pleasure unlike what she shared with her sisters. Gideon fucked Bui with a steady pace of deep strokes that pushed him far into her pussy – his breathing was profound and steady even though the heat coming from Bui was unlike any living woman's. Each of his strokes alternately filled her with fear and lust – it was a twin experience to what she felt when she lamented and communed with a dying soul. She understood that lust and life could be one and the same. After a few more strokes, Bui suddenly felt her entire body shudder and she gasped as conscious thought was drowned under the weight of her orgasm. Under the sheer visceral force of her pleasure, Bui lost control of her corporeal form and faded away as she moaned. Gideon was startled by the banshee's disappearance, but his state of excitement was such that he found the banshee Uaine – her green hair cascaded across part of her back when she looked over her shoulder invitingly at Gideon when he gripped her hips and pulled her close. He pressed his cock at the entrance of her pussy and Uaine moved her hips wantonly. With a single thrust, he slipped deep into her sex, her tightness surrounding him while the juices she released dripped down her thighs. Gideon's pace was quicker than when he was in the banshee Bui – Uaine bit her lower lip as her body became ignited by Gideon's violent thrusts and felt a unity with her sister Bui as his cock still carried some of her fluids. As he pounded Uaine's pussy, Gideon felt his mind become coiled around the images he was given by the banshee – when she would be awakened to a sadness that rippled through the ether as a the incandescent glow of a living soul dwindled and its fire reached out and grasped her, seeking a recognition and she would keen in its memory. Uaine was happy that this man was sharing in her tribulations and once the friction between his cock and her pussy pushed her to her climax, she followed her sister Bui and Uaine became a figure of smoke, dissipating in the nightly breeze. Gideon fell back onto his knees and looked over to the body of Benjamin Hebbler – Bui and Uaine stood by their sisters, dressed in simple dresses and their hair curled in long tresses. "Is this what you want from me?!" Gideon screamed up towards the rain, ripping handfuls of ground from the mound. "They die while and everything I touch turns to smoke?" The Banrion left her position and stood next to him, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her slim waist. She tenderly touched his hair and whispered: "That is the fate of your kind – to know the greatest joys, your must endure the greatest suffering." "He never knew joy," Gideon said, glancing at Hebbler. "That is why my sisters lament for him. We always lament for those who have never known the true joys of life." The Banrion stepped back and laid down on the wet ground. "Come and take me," she commanded. "And be reminded of what you have lost." Gideon placed his hands on each side of the Banrion's body while she reached down between them and guided his cock into her pussy. He felt her slit part for him and the slickness of her juices was abnormally cool, but the walls of her sex pulled him further into her and whenever he pulled out, her pussy would grasp him like a lifeline. Gideon looked down at her face, gazing at her features as they became an amorphous expression of her pleasure. Her petite breasts heaved when he pushed into her with steadily growing force and her jet black locks spread out like a spider's web across the surface of the mound. He peered deeply into the Banrion's eyes and saw himself standing on the edge of an unknown cliff overarching a shadowy abyss – his wife and daughter were pulled into the darkness by inky arms while two nephilim held him to his knees. His pleas had been ignored during a litany of his family's betrayal – he then saw his beloveds sink into the darkness and heard his condemnation to reverse the affront his father had committed. But as Gideon felt himself slipping into the numbness of the memory, gentle hands cupped his cheeks and warm lips found his and a tongue spurred him on to remember that he was alive, and that his success would mean the liberation of his family. The Banrion kissed Gideon with ardent fervour and he answered by thrusting violently into her pussy as the first pulses of his cock announced an oncoming orgasm – the banshee felt her pussy undulate greedily in anticipation of receiving his seed. Without parting their lips, the Banrion guided Gideon onto his back where she could better control the rise of his ecstasy. As she rode Gideon, sliding herself wistfully up and down his member, the Banrion surrendered to the heat of his life pouring into her and this allowed for her own memories to pour into Gideon's mind – it started with sorrow. The sorrow felt by a young girl forced onto the streets to ply her flesh for simple survival. Sorrow as she lay dying in a gutter in an alleyway from a knife wound; sorrow that rippled through the ether upon her last breath and bonded to her soul, making her an embodied lamentation. A banshee. Gideon looked up at the transfigured spirit he was bedding: her pert breasts bounced and her hair flailed like flag caught in the wind. Her every stroke was a step closer to his orgasm – also to an epiphany: sorrow is the true sister to love, not hate. The Banrion placed her hands on Gideon's shoulders and let her hips move in tandem with his as he thrust upwards with a desperate desire to reach his climax – juices dripped from her pussy as it squeezed around his member whenever he stretched her. "Oh god!!" Gideon cried faithlessly as the rumbles of his orgasm formed in his balls. Banrion slipped hand between her thighs and found her clit and she rubbed it furiously. She climaxed almost instantly, showering his lap with her ethereal juices – the tensions her cunt toiled upon Gideon's cock cast him beyond reason and he unleashed a tide of hot come that filled the Banrion to excess. Gideon gazed at the Banrion as the haze of bliss cleared from his mind, and he saw the she had cast her head back an moaned while her body slowly dissolved into a cloud of mist, merging with the night. Gideon rested on his back for a few moments, alone with his thoughts – from the mound, he could hear the lament of the banshees. They had returned to their duties as keeners for the dead and he stood alone in the night. He looked over at the body of Benjamin Hebbler. Five shadows hovered around the restful corpse – Gideon felt the eyes of the banshees on him as he dressed and finally approached Hebbler. "The boy looks at peace," he told the shadows. Next to the body was a simple looking bow – it was the weapon of Armageddon he sought. @@@@@ Sunrise broke over the horizon behind the woods and Gideon appeared on the path leading into town. The cold body of Benjamin Hebbler was cradled in Gideon's arms. Towns folk were spilling into the streets – Dorothy and the other Dowster girls were among them. Lady Madelyne Hebbler stepped out from the gathering crowd, flanked by the Parrington boys that Gideon had routed the previous day. The largest of the two brothers stood before him and Gideon handed over the body. "How many innocents will die for your curse, Mr Graveloch?' Lady Hebbler demanded – tears had formed at the corner of her eyes. "Benjamin may not have been a good grandson, but he did not deserve to die." Gideon stared at the elderly woman. "No, he didn't. None do, lady Hebbler. But he died well. And, I fear, many more are bound to die before I'm done. I pray you are not counted among them." Gideon left the woman fuming with anger and regret while he walked over to find his mount still roped in Rounder's stables. After mounting the steed, he tugged it towards the exit where Dorothy and Rounder waited for him. "Thank you," Rounder Vance-Altham said while Dorothy looked sadly to her feet. "No," Gideon whispered. "I did her no favour. Benjamin Hebbler saved her." The horse moved plaintively forward while Gideon Graveloch said goodbye to Dowster.