WEDNESDAY SUPRISE EPISODE16
MOTHER. A new novel by RAY SHELL
A BEAVER MOON
Big, round…like a golden donut hanging in the sky…is the Beaver Moon, the November full moon. Back in the day, Native Americans performed rituals while devouring Beaver entrails as they danced in the coming of winter like Sekhmet, swirling on Southwick Hill leading down to Devil’s Dyke.
Moon howls fill the night air, Sekhmet knows she is not alone. That tingle deep in her gut pings lovely long, she is not missing it…not this month. She has not forgot to undress, she’s bought a change of the clothes for the sunrise when her body Human returns out of her Trans lit wolf-ness.
She stands beneath the moon on Bullock Hill, the highest point in the Downs, arms wide open, welcoming The Transform; her blood is boiling, gushing through her veins, the Transform is on.
It starts in her feet. They stretch long, widening as the tingle moves into her legs, thighs, up her torso…tightening…stretching it…narrowing her chest…thickening her neck. The boiling heat steams out her hairy lines; fur streams out of her burning follicles like thin strands of black spaghetti, flowering all over her body. The only pain is from the enlargement of her face. Her wolverine snout pulls away from her usual, pert, pink nose; her lunging teeth and fangs hurt most of all. They push away her normal dentures, emerging sharp, long and dangerous... Sally remembers to keep her tongue well behind her killer teeth, their razor sharpness can split her tongue in two if she accidentally bites into herself…her vulva drips wet down her wolverine thighs…she could easily conceive tonight if the right creature appears.
‘Be careful.’
She hears Mother Molpe whisper to her mind, she throws her head back and howls long, joyously, The Transform is complete.
‘You hear that?’ says Dick as he Harry and Jane pat down the dirt where they’ve just buried their weeks takings under a flat rock beneath a tree on the same Bolt Hill where Sekhmet is near.
‘Sounds like a wolf…don’t spook me.’
Jane wants to get away quickly, it’s her time of the month, she is bleeding profusely, she wants to get back to her bedsit in Portslade as soon as she can to pull out her blood-soaked pad and jump in a calming bath.
The trio work as a team on George Street, leading up to Kemptown, thieving; shop lifting Morrisons then selling their goodies at discounted prices to their mates living in Darwell Court. They also wait ‘round the corner of bars such as The Bulldog at closing time to rob, drunk, stumbling, pension-aged patrons on their way home from a night out.
Dick is the youngest of the trio, his speciality is purse snatching, which he does in the light of day; targeting old pensioners, running to the seafront, down under the arcade with their wallets and pocket books, hiding, waiting for the Old Dear’s screams to subside, then back to St. James to wait for his next victim.
The crime trio, pool their takings, cream a tax off the top for themselves, then every week catch the Metrobus 270 from the Old Stein to the Jack and Jill pub bus stop, then up the paths to the windmills to South Downs way to bury their bounty.
‘There it is again! Let’s get out of here.’ Sally is already walking down the hill.
The stench finds Sekhmet’s nose like a target. The foul smell, like a pile of rotting, dead Human guts attack her senses…sirens explode in Sekhmet’s mind. Her nose leads the way, she sees the Trio fleeing down the hill, but they’re ambushed on either side by 2 other entities; she knows these creatures, she doesn’t salute them, now is not the time for niceties.
Sekhmet attacks Jack from the rear, Anubis grabs Dick by the throat from the right, Apep hypnotises Jane into his arms…he lays her down on the hard, cold ground for Sekhmet and Anubis to finish her off; he must back off, the Hate Stench foaming from the trio is too powerful. Apep doesn’t understand how his sisters can get close enough to drain their victim’s stinking blood. He vomits.
The siblings don’t speak until the trio are deaded.
‘I wasn’t expecting you.’ Sekhmet growls.
‘Daddy commanded me to look after you.’ Apep wipes the blood from his sister’s furry mouth before he kisses her.
‘I was hunting in Preston Park…my ‘hood spot…when Mum sang me to check you.’ Anubis hates being interrupted by anyone, including their Mother.
‘I can take care of myself. I know what I’m doing. I’m perfectly capable of hunting alone.’ Sekhmet chews down on a bleeding entrail she missed.
‘You’re the youngest Sekhmet. Daddy thinks you’re too impulsive… especially when the moon is full.’ Apep puts his arm around his baby sister.
‘Mum says the Popo are investigating up here…they’ve laid traps…we just want to make sure you’re safe.’ Anubis is at Sekhmet’s other shoulder.
‘The police don’t understand these killings…they haven’t made these deaths public…they don’t wanna scare them…peeps like us are not meant to exist.’ The siblings all hear Yetin’s thunder. Their Father is always watching, listening.
‘You two need to change your hunting grounds.’ Apep digs bleeding sweet meats out of the stinking corpses. He flings the hearts and livers into a black leather bag. ‘Mum says to wait for a melody from her…she’ll sing us home.’
‘I’m not done yet Apep!’ Sekhmet wines. ‘I’m lookin’ for a mate…I’m drippin’!!!’
‘Not here. Not tonight. Mum’s instructions are to get you home after you’ve fed.’
Apep is the eldest, in most things, his parent’s words are law…the only exception is the deletion of the Humans. Apep will go his own way on that issue. All Humans will die are the instructions implanted in the apps his A22’s are creating, not just the ones without love.
‘I hear Mum’s melody. Hold my hands.’ Apep The White gathers up his sisters.
Mother Molpe’s melody envelopes them. One second the siblings are together high on Bullock Hill, the next second they’re gone, like thieves in the night.
Nearby sparrowhawks smell the trio’s blood, a flock fly over their bodies; they descend to pick over the slimy entrails, feasting till their bellies are as full, as the round, golden, Beaver moon.