Morgan , Macha, and Michael, broken, battered and damaged, drifted through the other world, the world of memory and dreams. Bodies broken , brains bruised, skulls shattered, the comatose trio were unaware of the real world, the apocalyptic madness played out without their awareness or participation.
Even the Aos Sidhe have some limitations. Even Aos Sidhe take time to heal, to repair severed nerves, to return their minds home from the other realm of memory and dream. It takes time to restore crushed and damaged brains.
Llew, frantic, taunted, goaded by a badly frightened Badbh, which is a phrase, in of which itself had never been considered or uttered before, transformed. The warp rage twisted him into a beast man. Humans whispered tales of werewolf. This surpassed human fears.
Llew tore apart the battered coronet. One benefit of the old muscle car being, it was damn near built like a tank to begin with. In the now, that benefit was bloody inconvenient.
Morgan had had a few custom extras added. Full tube frame, five point harness seat belt rigs, along with the seriously built 440 six pack attack.
The tube frame had kept the interior of the car relatively intact, however, it did not survive the frenzied efforts of Llew. Nor had the roll cage saved more than the broken bodies of the passengers.
The shockwave and water torrent had propelled the car, like a cannon ball fired from a cannon. Racing harnesses had not helped when the extreme forces tore the seats loose within the cage. The passengers had essentially became like three eggs, being scrambled in a crumpled box.
There a particular groaning scream that alloy steel emits when it is twisted, torn, and wrenched apart. Badbh, usually found that sound mildly amusing. Not in this instance though.
Llew half climbed into the main passenger compartment he had exposed, to gently, carefully, begin untangling the unconscious bodies of Morgan and Macha from the tormented wreck.
Placing them ever so reverently , laid out along the road side. Then he returned, emerging with an unconscious Michael. Roughly dragging him out by an ankle. When Michaels head impacted on the asphalt, Llew released his hold and turned back to Morgan and Macha.
Badbh was already examining them, checking for broken or displaced bones, of which there were quite a few. Neither Llew or Badbh paid any attention to Michael, laid out beside the wrecked car.
Neither Morgan nor Macha were breathing. Neither of their skulls were intact. Smashed, deformed, leaking fluids. Badbh shook in a dark panic, she could not feel her sisters, neither one, they had vanished, gone away.
For the first time in her existence, she was alone, alone in her head, her thoughts, and for the first time ever, she was afraid.
Michael, didnt seem to mind, he simply lay there quietly bleeding and scarcely breathing. Where once, had been his face, was now a bleeding ruin, lost in time and space, Michael didnt care that he had no face...
Swirling flames and whirling waters, merged, danced and played. Macha flailed about in the chaos. Desperately seeking up and down or any sort of direction. There was no way to define one. An increasingly stressed Macha flailed about, searching for some sort of horizon, some space defining mark. There was none.
Occasionally, the sound of galloping horses, taunted her. Try as she might, she could not see them. Though, they bore her into dream.
Images, like blurred holograms flickered in and out of visibility. Memories of Machas bane, took form amongst the cacophony.
A determined Morgan played with the whiling dervishes as she swam amongst the many images while searching for Michael. After a brief eternity, Morgan realized that there was no Michael to be found only ancient memories. She was lost in Machas bane when the dance began.
Llew struggled to think of what to do. A scant glance had shown the faintest rise and fall of Michaels chest, he would clearly survive. The other two though, lay limp and still as death, of the bright auras, barely flickering flames scarcely showed.
Badbh was shaking, weeping tears of blood. Screaming , "Where are you?" The frenzy was consuming her reason. Fear, had come to claim its season in her heart.
Llew, was powerless, There was nothing that he knew to do. Badbh would not let him near the bodies. Her aura, a magnificent storm of flames. Llew was actually afraid himself, which was new to him as well.
The Sword moaned in pleasure from the wrecked car, the Spear, cackled, the chaos, fury and terror, of Badbh had brought an intense feeling of joy. The godslayers drank deep , relishing the madness, death, destruction all around.
What to do?
Where to go?
How? Llew tried to think.
Looking at the tunnel entrance, he realized that nothing within had survived. Water flowed out, there were bodies amid debris floating , only Llew and Badbh had survived the shockwave.
There was no humans anywhere near, left alive. The northern skies, glowed seeming to burn, an aurora , shined over the mountains. The world, silent now save for Badbhs raucous screams.
With no real thought or plan, Llew started pacing, then inspired, he ran.
There had been a military contingent, helicopters, trucks, APCs, gathered at the Lincoln memorial university.
It was possible something could be workable. Something to drive or fly.
The plan taking shape in his minds eyes, get them back to Machas cabin. It would still be intact. The dreams of kingdom, had faded into the black.
At any rate, there may be survivors on which to feed.
As it was, Llew scored!
One of the medevac choppers was miraculously intact. A few stunned soldiers had survived and wandered aimlessly here and there.
After a quick snack,
Llew located a Warrant officer, a pilot that survived. Quick work had her enthralled, along with an adhoc aircrew, intact, the blackhawk took flight.
The trip back to the wrecked car took barely minutes. Landing, the crew followed Llew to the frantic Badbh at the road side. The pilot remained on board the helicopter.
While Badbh snarled, and fed, Llew transferred Morgan, Macha, and Michael to the waiting medevac. Returning to gather Badbh, he simply pointed at the aircraft, and said, " home? " Badbh stared at him, Llew then said, " Elspeth? Elsie? " Badh moved to the wrecked car , tearing into the crumpled mess of the cars trunk retrieving the two cases within.
Clutching the godslayers tightly ,Llew steered her to the waiting chopper. While the northern horizon burned, they took flight. Following Badbhs vague directions in just about two hours, they had located Machas refuge.
The Cabin, barn and hidden hollow, were intact, looking untouched by the conflagration. Lights shone, smoke drifted from the chimney. Outside of the violently roiling horizon to the north, here, all was calm and quiet.
The pilot set the blackhawk down with barely enough clearance amongst the trees and buildings to land.
Still, as tight as it was, there had been evac missions in Afghanistan, that had been much more difficult. This task, proved easy when compared, plus, they were not under fire.
Elspeth Waited at the front door, shotgun in hand until she saw Badbh emerge carrying Machas lifeless body. Llew was next cradling Morgan.
Elspeth ran to meet them,
After a few words from Llew, Elspeth retrieved Michaels lifeless form. During the flight, he too had stopped breathing.
They laid the trio down on the big pit sofa in the main room Badbh climbed the stairs alone with the godslayers. leaving Llew with a teary eyed Elspeth.
There was no way Badbh would leave the Gods layers within reach of the highly agitated Llew. She had noticed his many hungering glances at the weapons cases during the flight.
" What happened? Will they live? " Llew shrugged, pacing to the well stocked bar ,and began chugging a bottle of Wild Turkey.
" I' ve no idea, bringing them here is as far as I have managed to think or do. They were... " Llew gestured vaguely, " damaged from the shock wave. "
Elspeth wept, looking over the ruined trio. Shooting suspicious side glances at Llew.
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Michael checked his rifle meticulously. The M-21 , an modified M-14, functioned flawlessly. Sweat flowed freely along his spine, what he had first thought was fine powdered snow, had been determined to be fine white ash covering everything, blowing about like snow. Sticking to the rifle , dusting his clothes.
Something was not right . Michael felt out of place, he couldn't remember how he got here, or where here was. The last clear memory had been as they had entered the Kentucky side of the tunnel. Then, blackness, followed by this desolation of ash.
The light breeze raised whirling dust devils,
The air stunk with an burnt, everything smell. Sulfur, plastic, wood, a miasma of putrid chemical residues and burnt meat. Michael fished through his jacket and BDU pockets for a kerchief.
Feeling truly foolish when he realized that a camouflage keffiyah, was wrapped about his head. Only leaving his face exposed.
Chagrined, Michael secured it , leaving only his eyes exposed. The air was thick with ash and difficult to breathe.
There were no stars, no sun, no landmarks to show him where he was, or, a direction. The air was so ash congested that he only had a few meters of visibility in any direction. Each foot step, raised little puffs of fine ash as he moved.
All sound seemed, muffled. It was surreal.
Had the impact done this? Had the asteroid burnt the world? Memories flowed, merging, recent ones with the distant past mixed with horrific snatches of shared memories with Morgan.
Michael froze in place, Morgan, where was Morgan? A fear chilled his spine. Followed by the confused question, who was Morgan? Michael squatted down, pausing his movement to gather his thoughts, find some sort of bearings, make some sense of just what sort of hell he was in, where he was, when he was, how he had gotten here.
The many whirling memories were highly confusing, chaotic and unstable. Somewhere, in the distance a Raven Called. Otherwise he was completely alone in the desolation.
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Macha ran, feet pounding, heart pumping. The course of beaten earth and clay a brownish ribbon stretched across the kelly green field. Her feet, snatched dust from the track, leaving clear prints with each running step.
She was barefoot, wearing only her tartan bratt, and a heavy torc about her neck. Sweat coated her body, mixed with dust , crafting rivulets of wet clay streaks along her legs.
Why she had let herself talk herself into this ridiculous race was anyones guess. Holding back, was difficult at best.
Gritting her teeth as she passed by Deirdre watching from the sidelines, a pang of, was it jealousy? Envy? Whatever it was, was a damned irritating feeling. Macha , catching a glance of her too beautifuly adorable heart shaped, rosy cheeked , hand shaped, blush.
Wait? Hand shaped? Macha stopped running. Digging her feet in, Macha skidded several feet, leaving ankle deep furrows in the hard packed dirt track.
Turning back to stare at Deirdre, and the hand print on her face, Macha forgot the race. Rage ignited. Three quick breathes and, Macha was running once again. Now, she held nothing back.
In seconds, she half lapped the track, quickly gaining on the chariot. Dougal, whipped the racing team frenziedly, the matched Greys, were literally killing themselves with the strain. Macha, sensing the faltering heart beats and labored breathing, pushed harder.
A second later she was leaping, gaining on the chariot, landing behind a truly surprised Dougal.
To the onlookers, it all happened in a blur. One moment Dougal was leaning forward focused on driving his team to death, the next heart beat a headless corpse sagged in place, reigns still wrapped tightly around out stretched arms, blood fountaining from the ragged stump of neck, where a fair blonde lords head had been.
Macha had leapt back off of the chariot, as it slowed down, the horses on verge of collapse. Turning, she hurled a shocked Dougals head back, towards his father and mother, standing beside Deirdre.
Dougals eyes were blinking, his mouth working while the head rolled to a stop at Deirdres feet. Then an enraged Macha was snatching the roughly severed head up by the long braided blonde hair. To slam it full force into Fergus shocked face.
The last thing Fergus would ever see was the wide eyed look of terror on Dougals face just before it impacted with his head. The force was great, Dougals head, merged with his father Fergus face. The sound was a sort of meaty thunk, crunch, and splashing melon sound. Fergus dropped in place. The two skulls had, merged.
Fergus body lay twitching just barely becoming aware that it was dying. Deirdre, leapt to the side, but she couldn't avoid being splattered with merged brain matter and crushed skull shards.
Macha appeared to have materialized out of thin air beside a retching Deirdre. Dougals mother, Fergus wife, fainted dead away at the sight, splattered with her abusive husband and son's meeting of minds.
The crowds were silent. All eyes upon the spectacle playing out. Deirdre looked up into Machas burning gaze, before collapsing in shock and dismay.
Macha truly hated wife beaters, this excursion had provided a two for one special. Without a word, save a croaking call, Macha leapt away, this time running across the well kept field, disappearing into the nearby forest. A distressed murder of crows took to the skies protesting the frightened presence of the thing of fury that raced beneath the trees.
The watching Ulliad, was still registering fear and fury in an reaction as Macha vanished into the bordering forest. The Kings counselers, were frozen in place, the fresh new corpses, twitching as the disgusting mess stained the hard packed clay.
It is not nice to piss off a divine nature. Llew had watched it all in smiling awe. He was overwhelmed with a passionate flame of desire, mixed with fury and amusement.
Badbh, danced a gleeful jig, whirling about, revelling in the chaos and fury. The race had turned out to be entertaining after all.
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One thing he knew with certainty, was pain.
The pain of loss, the pain of failure, the pain of living amongst his mistakes, strangest of all being the agony of success. Sometimes the consequences of success were more profound than failure could ever be. More often than not, getting what you wanted turned out to be worse than loss.
Llew sighed internally, gazing out from the ruined cannon emplacement on the pinnacle over look. The view to the north of the Cumberland Gap, remained obscured. A thing for which Llew was grateful!
Whirling clouds of dust infused fog, heat lighting, traveling ball lightning. Like unto something from a HawkWind album cover or the cover art for a Michael Moorcock book was all that could be seen. The psychedelic visage of hell on earth transformed into the new real.
To the south, low slung late morning fog mixed with rolling clouds in a surrealist taunt of mundane normalcy. Clinch mountain was hidden, not even the Powell valley floor could be seen. Llew contemplated pain, memories, purpose. The Dubhacas played its melody throughout his minds.
Sacred mysteries that teased at his thoughts while tearing at his heart. Llew refused to think about the claws, piercing, clutching his wounded soul.
Llew decided that maybe Van Gogh had been a sort of prophet. Everything he saw, everywhere he looked, was obscured, blurred, distorted. It looked as if Van Gogh had redesigned, then recreated reality. On reflection, maybe the sharp edges of reality were too painful, cut too deeply. Thus Van Gogh blurred the lines, smudged the corners, dulled the edges so that the beauty and the pain wouldn't cut so deeply. Then again, Old one ear was an obvious masochist. Llew remained undecided. Instead of sharp deep cuts to quickly bleed out the victim, Vinnie one ear chose to increase the violence. Cause the death of his victims with blunt force trauma. Being beaten to death would take longer and likely hurt more.
Llews subconscious minds skittered between his triune natures. While his conscience observed the world in depth.
On more careful consideration, Llew settled on a more practical understanding. One should not immediately assign to malice or scheming what is more often incompetence or simple entropy.
Most likely, Van Gogh had been near sighted and was in fact a realist painting precisely the blurry world he actually saw.
Llew moved, carefully observing, cataloguing all he saw for analysis later, while he returned to the waiting Blackhawk.
Climbing aboard he realized that there was not enough fuel for another journey after he returned to Machas cabin. Something would need to be done about that. Another thing to be distracted by, another problem needing solution.
As he approached the waiting helicopter, Llew raised his clenched right fist, making circular motions ovehead. The pilot could be seen preparing for take off. The blades were just beginning to turn when he climbed aboard. " Home James" Llew called out. Sarcasm dripping heavily in his tone. A few moments later, they were taking flight.
In the five weeks that had passed, nothing appeared to have changed north of the mountains. Which was to say, aside from assured devastation, the extent was still unknown. To say that things in eastern Tennessee, were , bad ,was the understatement of of the millenia.
The quirks of geology had created disparate pockets, that the Appalachian Americans had called, " hollers".
Valleys Isolated and sheltered by the hodgepodge of ridge lines. Some ranging east to west, some north to south, many more of a northeast to southwest line. The inconsistent geology had preserved the largest population clusters that had survived in north America.
The lowlands ,where the majority of population along with most of the cities, had not sheltered anything. No mountain ranges to diffuse or deflect the shockwaves from the multiple impacts.
Coastal regions were simply swept clear by tsunamis and cyclonic super storms.
The world was a new wonder of nightmare scapes, desperation and destruction. Survivors, the unlucky survivors that is. Were primarily found in the various mountain valleys across the devastated planet.
Llew pondered on that aspect. How many Aos Sidhe had survived? There had not been that many of them at the outset of this current apocalypse. How many humans remained?
How long before the herds, the Aos Sidhe supply of cattle was stabilised and self sustaining once again?Just how hungry was the future to be?
Hunger caused unpredictable actions, derived of desperate choices. Unpredictable desperate situations were seldom a benefit to anyone.
Babdh, would be finding this new world entertaining. That much could be assured. She thrived in chaos destruction and madness. Llew, had three perceptions, three distinct outlooks.
Two of them were in accord with Babdh. One out of amusement, the other out of ambition, the third, was busily trying to find balance between the two.
The result of course, as far as the herds were concerned could only be the wicked ambitions and needs of the Aos Sidhe.
Idly Llew wondered if the hungry herds ever consider the ethical analysis rendered by the cheese burgers they ate? By the cheesecake? The bread? The wine? What is order and good to the spider is chaos, evil and horror to the fly.
Does the spider care or even notice? Why should it? Seriously, who engages in an ethics debate or philosophical discussion with their dinner? With a snack?Who cares what breakfast thinks?
We only care that the bacon is tasty. In fact, to not take pleasure in the meal would be to devalue the labor involved in the cultivation, and creation of the meal.
The Black Hawk held position, hovering a few feet above Machas cabin. Llew gave the crew their instructions before leaping out, to land easily on his feet after a near 30 or 40 foot drop.
Babdh was watching from the opened frontdoor. " What was that? No superhero landing? No pose?" The obvious sarcasm amused Llew. He paused while stepping up on to the porch, to make a leg quickly, " Milady! I did nae suspect an audience would attend me!"
His cheeky act amused Babdh, she took a swig from the bottle of old Weller 107, before offering the strong bourbon to Llew as she bowed in return, gesturing to the open doorway.
Llew laughed, drinking from the bottle as he followed Badbh into the cabin. His eyes drinking in the sight of her. Relaxed, predatory, sexy, intoxicating on every level. Llew found her volatility enticing. The presence of threat, danger and a bit of madness, all on the verge of eruption, Llew found to be exciting. Badbh sensed his thoughts, she put a bit more sway to her standard swagger , smiling as she drank in his lust.
The scent of cinnamon and apples wafted from the kitchen. Elspeth was casting her own spells. The power of pie , pie and good whiskey, a beautiful, if psychotic goddess, and a crackling fire.
Llew found himself relaxing. Which was a welcome refuge. Simultaneously, Llew found himself thoroughly reinvigorated. Badbh filled his senses with her presence. A half drunk, contented Badbh, being the most desirable wonder Llew had ever imagined possible. To think, it only took an apocalypse to bring out that sparkle in her eyes.
Llew had ever noticed her to smile before. Those delightful dimples of destruction. Llew laughed. Badbh cut her eyes at him, before she could speak,Llew explained " Och, a temple of mayhem, with dimples of destruction, yae are, a damsel of devastation. " Badbh reflected a moment, deciding she liked the compliment.
Is this love?
Is this lust?
Is this fire
Or dust?
Is this something
even gods can't understand?
is this wrong?
is it right?
is this evils respite?
Here,
in this Dance of the Damned.
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Babdh contemplated the look on Llews face. She found it intriguing. An expression of confused desire, wanton lust, curiosity and abject terror. Held together with an iron will. An unflinching gaze, that flashed between madness, delight, fury, lust. A lightning storm blazing directed directly, at her.
She had never seen her own heart reflected so openly, so clearly. Damn him. Gods love. Gods love through eons. A thing Badbh had spent millennia in denial of, doing her utmost to bury within madness, fury, the blindness of rage.
Damn him. Fury ignited, Badbh snatched up the hand axe laying on the hearth, hurling it at Llew. Laughing, he casually caught it. Damn the man!!!
Babdh was even more turned on. No wonder Nemain had been so, infuriated. No wonder Cathabodua, had fallen in love with him. Damn him! Llew smiled, " Och my darlin, Aye, I love you as well! " Butterflies fluttered within her. Damn the man. She couldn't stop the radiant grin that erupted.
Elspeth watched silently from behind the swinging door to the kitchen. Part of her wanted to run. Most of her wanted to run to be honest. The silly grin on Badbhs face had to be the most frightening thing Elspeth had ever seen. All six of her fangs extended, a mad joy lighting her emerald eyes. Badbh appeared the living essence of malevolence, madness and oddly, mischief. Llew, Sapphire eyes burning was clearly besotted. To think that Elspeth had began to think Llew had potential, only to spy this stupidity.
The man should be running away. Not, drooling and smiling like some brain damaged idiot. Elspeth decided to take up residence in her safe room. She certainly did not want to suffer through hearing what was apparently unfolding. Knowing it was about to happen was horrific enough.