Sybil Writes On Leaves

Kali's Altar 9

The table met for lunch later than normal. Everyone ate in silence. It seemed that under Lavinia’s rule, meeting at the table was just another meaningless formality on its way to the body dump. The altar had become the house’s main focus. Not the table, not traditions, not personal growth and development; everything was about bringing sacrifices to the altar and feeding Lavinia’s insatiable appetite.

After lunch, I approached the Gothic Girl. I thought, “I have questions.” She nodded her head and we went to the living room. Her voice said, “I already know your questions, but I want to hear you ask me them out loud.”

I asked, “Is there someone else who comes to the house and does some of the work?”

“Yes. But it is nothing for you to worry about. Go on to your next question.”

“I sense somebody else out there. Who is it?”

She took a deep breath, “It’s not going to make you feel better and it doesn’t concern you anyway. There is someone out there. He helps out around the house and we feed him in return.”

“He takes the body parts?”

“Yes.”

“Does he eat them?”

“Yes.”

She was right, that knowledge did not make me feel any better. I asked, “Is he considered part of the table?”

“No, Clarence, he is not. Let’s just say he has more beast-like characteristics than he does human. You want to stay from him.”

“Aren’t you worried that someone might come around someday asking questions? Doesn‘t anyone get suspicious?”

“That hasn’t happened yet. But now that my sister in charge, a lot more people are going to disappear. Someone will eventually get suspicious. It wouldn‘t be first time something like that happened to house like ours.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t fool yourself into believing that what we do here is new or unique. Far from it, these rituals have been carried out since the dawn of man and they have continued to be carried out through the ages. Our thing is tribal, ancient and sacred. We live on the fringes of civilized society. In a way, we have never come out of the woods. The Thugs in India did their thing secret for centuries, then they got too large and too many people disappeared. When families like ours are discovered, we always make history due to the unbelievably high body count. You could look through old news articles and easily find the families who have been destroyed by allowing themselves to be discovered. Anytime a killer, or group of killers, has a body count is in the hundreds, its almost always going to be connected to house similar to this one. Sometimes they just catch one individual from a family, like that Holmes guy in Chicago. When you’re in an area where there is an unusually high amount of missing people, that’s usually an area with at least one active family. We are all cousins to each other, we all came from the same place. We were once all united. It isn’t like that anymore. We stay away from each other now. Lavinia intends to change that. If she does, we might end up in the history books with India’s Thugs. When you have a confederation, way too many people come up missing to hide it.”

“Do all these other families use telepathy?”

“Of course, that is the main thing we have in common. The torture and human sacrifice is used to increase our power both as individuals, and as a group. The closer the telepathic is to their primal self, the more powerful they will be. That makes savagery essential for us and every other family like us. The meat strengthens us as well. You’ve felt it. Do you see how quick Lavinia is recovering? That is because of the meat. If the meat brings power, it goes without saying that some will constantly want more. Now, Lavinia is not just hungry for power, she also has sexual needs that require a constant supply of bodies. By the time she’s done, if she ever gets caught, they won’t list her with the other serial killers. They’ll have to put her in the medical books with the infectious diseases. Do you understand what you are a part of here? Do realize just how deep in this shit you really are? What do you think your future is with Lavinia? That doctor worked for this house for years. That wasn’t first time he got a blowjob. But it is the first time he tried to do it during Lavinia’s rule.”

“She killed him because he got blowjob from that woman?”

“No, she killed him because he was there. Think of a nymphomaniac who needs it all day everyday. She’ll fuck the gardener, the garbage man, the mailman, her boss, her husband and his friends. She’ll fuck anyone who is there at the time. That’s Lavinia. The thing is that she needs someone to die every time she fucks. You should be able to see how quickly this could get out of hand. And how long do you think it’s going to take before you end up like the good doctor or Alfred? What happens when the honeymoon phase is over and she finds out that you snore? What do you think she’s thinking when your dick is inside of her? I’m sure it makes you feel like quite the stud to have the Matriarch in love with your dick; a Matriarch who has a fetish for off cutting dicks and preserving the ones she likes in jars.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“First, don’t give me anymore of that ’I had no choice’ shit. I understand the position you are in. But you fell in love with her Clarence. That what the issue is here. You did have a choice about falling in love with her. You know exactly what she’s about and you fell with her anyway. You need to learn to put your penis away when you’re engaging in the politics of this house. Men typically have a very low life expectancy at the table, so low that we rarely waste time bringing them. You come to the table with your dick in your hand and you will get used as a pawn and torn to pieces.”

“Where do we stand now?”

“I carved my name in your chest.”

“That won’t help anything if Lavinia just slices it off later.”

“I’m not talking to Lavinia, I’m talking to YOU!”

“If you’re sister is going to kill me anyway and there is nothing you can do about it…”

Anger was a like a fire in her eyes, “I didn’t say that I can’t do anything about it. What I AM saying to you right now Clarence, is that you better start giving me reason to save you!” She got up and left the room.

As I sat there thinking about what was said, Lavinia’s voice came into my mind: “My sister acts like you made a bad decision. Is that what you think?”

I thought, “No.”

“Your love for me is real. I see where it comes from. When I reach the heights of power, you will remember that you were the only one there with me when I was at my lowest point. When I was there suffering alone on a dirty, piss-stained mattress in the cold basement, you were the only one there to bring me a blanket. You did this in spite of the cruelty I had shown you. I won’t forget that, ever. How many men do you think have chewed my food for me and fed me? None. And that’s exactly how many men I have loved before you. Do you remember when I gave you the choice to walk away or stay? I offered you the opportunity to walk away free with all the money you would ever need. You didn’t take it, instead you chose to stay with a disfigured, crippled woman who you thought would probably kill you sometime in the future. You stayed because you love me. When you stayed, you took my heart in your hands.”

I felt like they were trying to figure out the best place to cut me, in order to split me down the middle. I didn’t see to many choices. I couldn’t turn away from Lavinia just like the Gothic Girl couldn’t just stand up at the table announce herself the Matriarch. Things just don’t work like that. But the Gothic Girl did have a point, Lavinia was too bloodthirsty.

It was an addiction for her. She was addicted to torture and murder like a drug-addict is addicted to his dope. The habit doesn’t slow down, it progressively gets worse. If she’s snatching Jehovah’s Witnesses off the porch today, what will she do tomorrow? I had to ask myself if I was addicted to her, or if I just like her. More and more, I thought and fantasized about the blood-soaked orgy, the feeling of participating in the ultimate taboo. The feeling that you have the power, courage and strength of will to take that route. Was I in love with Lavinia? Or was I in love with that part of myself that was just like her? That hidden, secret and shameful part of myself. Or, was I in love with the way she brought that part of me out, accepted it, validated it, made love with it and nurtured it? It was all of the above, and denying that I truly loved Lavinia would have been like trying to swat away flies while wearing a straight-jacket. However, I also could not deny that I truly loved her sister. It was easy to see why men had such a short life-expectancy at the table.

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