99 - The Old Gods Wait

Anya drew forth the book again. The one bound in human skin. The one with a nipple jutting forth from its cover.

"If this is going to be my last story of the night," she said. "Then I would like to read you something. It's an old, old story, translated from language to language. Originally, it was a poem. Now, it's something else. Something that doesn't rhyme but has its own rhythm. In English, its title translates to

THE OLD GODS WAIT

My blood first streamed down my legs

As I danced beneath the stars

The men saw, young and old

I was a woman in their eyes

The chase began, and I ran

Through the woods, through the fields

My heart hammered, my legs ached

They bayed like hounds, mad, lustful

There was no place of safety

No sacred ground to run to

As they had my mother, sisters,

All the women of my line

Some did not survive the run

I had buried sisters too slow

Or too stubborn to give chase

Bloody bodies ripped cunt to sternum

No sacred ground to run to

But there was one forbidden place

There where the Old Gods wait

I ran not as the prey

I was not to be herded

I ran to a worse fate

From the world above to below

The greatest hunter, the cruelest hunter

Saw how my steps turned there

His name was Blood of Maidens

How his spear hungered for me

The others fell back, gave up

He would follow me to ****

To **** my ghost forever more

Down I went into the hollow

Womb of the earth welcomed me

Walls painted by the oldest people

The roof grew lower, walls narrowed

Like a snake, I crawled bellywise

In the eternal darkness, beyond stars

Where no fire had ever shone

Blood of Maidens was right behind

His hard hands caught my feet

I kicked, squirmed, crawled, twisted, tore

A moment of freedom, then deeper

I had heard the dark legends

When the ancestors first came here

The Oldest People were already here

They crawled in the earth, we walked

Alone, they remembered the Old Gods

Alone, they practised the old rites

A line of Mothers and daughters

Men were beasts to breed with

Dark and bloody were their rituals

They stirred the Old Gods' sleep

Wet dreams that leaked into mind

Stirred the body to unnatural heat

It was through women they came

Born once more through our bodies

This was the fate I chose

Surrender my body to Old Gods

Rather than to the bloody spear

That fucked my sisters to ****

The tunnel opened, I stood up

My face met the wall hard

I tasted blood, fell, dizzy, stunned

Rough hands seized me, I screamed

The dark opened its eyes wide

The answering howl beyond mere sound

Blood of Maidens pissed himself freely

Died without knowing; the head fell

Into my lap, by my pussy

His prize forever out of reach

I panted in the deep dark

My enemy was dead, and now

They waited, breathing slowly, unseen, unfelt

Slowly I took off my clothes

On hands and knees I crawled

Toward the breathing dark before me

If I fled, I would die

Perhaps **** would be a kindness

I found the wall, the hole

Big enough for me to crawl

I slid into it, air close

They came to me from behind

I had never known a man

This had never been a man

Too soft, too slick, too knowing

It slithered and pressed against me

My moans echoed down the tunnel

Something met me in the dark

Her mouth to mine, her lips

Like the lips of my dead sister

She held me as it pushed

Held me through the first pain

Our tongues twirled as body burned

A violation greater than any other

Thoughts and images invaded my mind

Far lands, other days, long gone

The Oldest People were almost human

The Old Gods, lonely, shaped them

They were to be the bees

That pass from flower to flower

Carrying with them their tainted pollen

Generation after generation, they bred them

They bred with each other too

They dwindled and grew stranger still

Deep and dark, their terrible ecstasies

All these she promised to show

Now I would be the first

Of the new breed, new mothers

To walk beneath the open sky

To carry the dark within me

To share forbidden pleasures, forbidden worship

I would be cursed, or worshipped

Their fears and desires my mask

Tens of tens of tens faces

All mine, and none, and yet

No single name will bind me

I will move among them all

My true face never truly seen

My true name never truly spoken

For to speak of fear and desire

Will call to me in darkness

Wet with afterbirth I will answer

I will kiss their bloody lips

Lick their wounds and scratch them

Until ecstasy and agony are one

They will know me only as

She Who Must Not Be Named

I feel them, within my womb

Where the Old Gods wait, unborn

---

Anya closed the book. She looked up at the sky, and there were tears in her eyes. Of joy or sadness, none there could tell.

She blew out the 99th candle.

There was only one left.

"And now," Asenath said, as she took up the last candle, which was nearly extinguished. "Our game is almost ended. At this point, many players call the game off. The one hundred story, you see, is different from the rest. All night we have been inviting a spirit here, to sit with us, invisible and silent. Yet with this last candle, with this last light extinguished, we will call it forth. If there are any of you who lack the courage to see this through—leave now."