Entrance of the Verholden Manor Edge of the Third Ring

He was there. A few more steps of her bare feet through the snow and she would meet the nightmare that defined her life. Bring him back, her father had said. Kill him dead, was what her heart said. She felt Annabelle nearby and while she wanted her close, she was also repulsed by the torn and bloodied bridal gown she wore. Tharia’s eyes wandered towards the monstrous woman a few meters away.

The closer they got to her, the more she seemed like a perfectly normal human. Her layers of translucent skin had the knack to form into a seductive figure, clothes and even the intricate details of golden locks on her head. She knew that face very well - it was just close enough in looks to hers to spell family.

“She’s Celestine”, Tharia said with a solemn voice, “my elder sister.”

Even as a monster, her sister was every bit the social temptress. When the thing moved in their direction, the sway of the hips and that inviting come-hither smile revolted Tharia. This was the stick she had been measured with all her life. She had been a voluptuous, insatiable predator even before the end of the world had turned her. One last shiver ran through her form and the final layers of skin placed down on her bosom. Of course, they made her chest bigger still. Tharia gnashed her teeth as Celestine spread her arms and smiled.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. It’s so good to see you alive!” her sister exclaimed and ran towards her. Annabelle quickly held the Scythe between them, but Celestine casually pushed it aside.

“Relax, I’m just family”, she said.

“Precisely”, Annabelle replied but after a wave of Tharia’s hand, she allowed the woman to pass. The human woman found herself lifted off the ground easily, Celestine whirled her around like a little child. That blonde poison was breathtaking. If Annabelle was the goddess of lust and obsession, well, her dear sister was the crass carnal manifestation thereof. Her elder sister put her back down and patted her on the head as if she was the insignificant tomboy again.

“You’ve inked your entire body, maybe you really do enjoy the pain. It suits you well and father will be furious. I love it”

Tharia swallowed her pride, she realized her voice was shaking as she spoke, “Hello sister.”

Celestine, however, had already moved on to her next target. Tharia bit her lip in anger as she saw that carnal pleasure thing brush her hands along Annabelle.

“And you, my ravishing little thing, must be Annabelle. Brother told me that Celestine never was into women, so I’m sorry to say we won’t spend the night together”, her elder sister said as if that was a foregone conclusion. When that blonde thing started to sniff Annabelle’s neck, the goddess pushed her away with force. Not even fazed by the rejection, Celestine twirled around in the snow.

“Annabelle. Tharia. You absolutely must meet brother. The things he has done to those poor girls because he didn’t have you”, Celestine put a hand to her forehead, “Ugh, even a perverse creature like me has her limits, you know?”

Just as Tharia wanted to say something, her elder sister suddenly pushed against her. She looked up at the towering woman and swallowed hard. This close, the extreme allure of her was obvious and it made her feel small and insignificant in comparison. Glowing how breath exhaled onto her nose as the creature ignored all definitions of personal space.

“You’re here to kill him. That’s a good smell you’ve got on you”, Celestine said and licked her lips in an obscene gesture, “Fine by me. I call dibs on his decrepit little body after you’re done murdering him.”

And then, just as if nothing had happened, the blonde monster stepped away again. It leaped into the air and then landed in the snow a few meters away. Twirling to the song of an unhearable waltz, she quickly danced along the Schauhof towards the entrance of the manor.

“Fairy”, Annabelle said.

“My family is fucked, I know.”

This wasn’t how she had imagined this to go, at all. There was no grand battle nor clash with her brother. She hadn’t even seen him yet. For hours now she had endured the flock of servants pestering her with their ministrations. First, they had bathed her with scalding water. Then, they dragged her into this room and placed her down in a chair. Her face hadn’t been touched by this much powder and tinctures in untold months. Now that they were done, she couldn’t recognize the person looking back at her from the mirror. Breathtaking. Regal. Really not quite herself.

Without a single say in it, Tharia was made to stand up. Uninvited hands felt her up, took measurements and pushed and prodded at her body. Despite having spent starving weeks in the wasteland of a dying city, these servants still miraculously found tiny reservoirs of body fat they deemed unsightly. Her ears picked up the quiet tssk and huh and humphs they made. They were silent judgments cast with a burning iron. There really was nothing she could do but endure. The robe was stripped from her body and more silent haarrumphs and pahs rang out. Too many hands forced her into pants – of course, they gave her pants instead of a skirt - and they dressed her up in a frilly blouse too. Naturally, it faked out a bit of substance up top. She was suddenly very conscious of every little flaw.

And still, they prodded her, one particularly grumpy looking maid pushed Tharia’s breast in and snapped a finger. Moments later, a younger servant returned with two small cushions, a needle, and yarn. That was it. Tharia pushed them away with a murderous glare and stomped out of the room. Fucking vultures.

As her bare feet touched the soft carpet, she once more realized she didn’t have shoes yet. Why did no one ever bother giving her boots, gods be cursed. It mattered not. This was to be her statement then. You can dress me up like a puppet but I’ll be me in the end. She hurried through the corridors of the mansion with an entourage of squealing maids. It really felt like she had gone back in time. Her eyes wandered towards a window. The view of the capital she got quickly pulled her back to the now. This wasn’t back then, this was now.

She passed one of those old knight statues and in passing, she snatched up the sword from it. This got her servants to take some distance. Good, they still knew that Verholdens were unstable fucked up monsters. Voices lured her to the entrance hall where she finally found him. Her brother looked like a hero of legends. His babyface seemed innocent and was framed by fitting locks. He towered over Celestine with his foot on her back.

“You touched her?” he screamed and kicked down on her elder sister.

“Celestine does not touch other people. She’s a temptress, not a whore!” he continued and kicked the blonde monster-woman a second time. Tharia accelerated her pace. When he turned to look at her, she pointed the sword directly at his throat.

“You look good, little sister. I’m sorry you had to see this, she hasn’t been quite the same since she came back”, he said with an apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders, “Celestine wasn’t a whore. She was a proper lady.”

Tharia looked down on the monster-woman and then back up at her personal nightmare. The way he looked was dangerously disarming.

“She humped every man she could find. Except for the one that begged her for it, you sick incestuous fuck”, she snarled. She knew he had never once lusted for his family, but Tharia knew very well how to hurt him too. He had always been concerned about libido. She had struck true. Sudden anger flared up in him. He scrunched his beautiful face into a hateful grimace.

“Tharia!” his voice thundered. It hit Tharia like a punch to the gut. She lowered the sword as her body started shuddering uncontrollably. Not now. Please not now. Her lips bled when her teeth dug into them. He has no more power over you, she told herself.

“Tharia”, he echoed with a much softer tone this time, “You always were a foul mouth. It really is what makes you so special. Come, let us take a walk.”

She felt his hands lock around her. He didn’t even seem to mind the sword and when she looked down at the floor, she realized why. She had let go of it at some point. Her brother casually pulled her along towards the large door. Servants hurried to open it up. Sudden cold air poured inside. Strong hands swept her off her feet. She tried to protest but Frederickus carried her outside.

“You really should have worn shoes, sister. You always were the rebellious one. Tell me, did you paint your body to anger father some more?” he asked and didn’t even wait for a reply from her.

“Let me go”, she whispered.

“That’s something I can’t do. You’re mine, Tharia. Only with your help can I enter the room and save this world from oblivion.”

Tharia reached up her hands and wrapped them around his neck. She only needed to push. Lock her fingers around it and crush his throat. After such a long time in the capital of monsters, this should be easy. Just kill him.

“Nuh uh, Tharia”, he said and stretched his neck. She instantly let go of it, his gestures and words were commands that she had to obey – or else. Her body shivered and her mind called back the many times he had tortured her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked with a whimper.

“There’s something you need to see. It will help you understand. I’ve always looked out for you”, he replied.

“Oh yes, you’ve loved me so very much. You sick shitstain. Want to show me your collection of dead servants again? Or what you did to my dog? That’s what gets you off, doesn’t it?”

Her stomach lurched as her body suddenly sacked downwards. A moment later she smacked onto the ground, her fall only softened by the deep snow underneath. Before she could fully recover, iron-hard hands clutched her arm and dragged her along the ground like a piece of rubbish.

“You must not tempt me, foul beast”, he growled as he dragged her through the snow.

Annabelle felt a strange sensation in her chest. She had been subjected to the torture of maids. That was a while ago. There was no one around anymore and the only reason she still waited was that she was told that Tharia would soon be there. Just as she was about to lose patience, the door opened up and her love walked inside with a confident smile on her lips.

“There you are”, Tharia said and ran a finger along her own lips. Annabelle blinked in confusion. This wasn’t her doing. The young woman approached with a sway on her hips that spread soft warmth in the goddess.

“Didn’t you want to confront your brother?” Annabelle interjected as the young woman sat down on her lap.

“I’ve decided to be no longer beholden to him”, Tharia said. Soft lips locked with hers and Annabelle felt hands slide over her chest. Her little fairy was aggressive today. A moment later, the small woman let go of her lips.

“What is going on, Fairy?” Annabelle asked, slightly breathless.

“Tell me, Annabelle, what does it mean to feel?” the frail girl said and sit up straight, “Why do you love this type of body? You smell so much like I do but you’re different. There are emotions within you.”

The goddess froze in place. This wasn’t Tharia, even though it looked like her. Again, she had been tricked into kissing someone else. With sudden anger, she grabbed the short black hair, digging her fingers into it. With a flash of golden light, the Scythe manifested directly inside of the small girl, impaling her on the long weapon. With a guttural growl, she then kicked the body away from her and let out a loud scream. Laughter was her answer as the body of the girl unfurled into transparent layers of skin.

“Why are you so angry? Would you have done even more with me, if I persisted?” a voice came from out of nowhere, “Why do you feel? I want to feel too but I only catch glimpses of it when brother shouts at me.”

Annabelle wiped her mouth and stared down on Celestine. The woman had turned into a loosely held together creature of floating skin layers.

“You’re a newly born god”, Annabelle said and then shook her head while carefully planning her words, “No, we are demons. We cause misery to fester emotions that we can steal. In turn, humans pray to us and call us divine.

“I’m getting emotions from you, you feel for me”, Celestine spoke with a questioning tone and then shivered, “It’s unpleasant. Why?”

“Because you used the face of my love to try and tempt me, you repulse me. I hate you”, Annabelle said.

“This love, is it important? Brother says he loves me, but it feels like what you feel towards me. Do you love me?” the monster-being asked with a childish inflection. Annabelle quickly shook her head.

“Then, brother hates me as you hate me. I do not like being hated”, Celestine said and curled into a tightly wound ball.

“When I play with the servants, they feel lust for me and then, when they’re done, they feel hate. Why? When brother puts those girls in his world engine, why do they feel hate when he says it’s out of love? Hate does not feel good. This does not feel nice. I want to feel nice”, the creature said from within the ball. It pulsed with red liquid running through it. Suddenly, it began unfurling.

“When I kissed you, it felt nice. When they touched me, it felt nice. But brother says Celestine wasn’t a whore, she wouldn’t give in to niceness and pleasure. Why? When I killed the others and ate them, it felt nice”, the Godbeast continued. Soon, the fleshy mass filled out the entrance of the small room. The walls started to crack from the pressure.

“I think you will taste nice. You’re riper than they were, maybe the taste will be richer too? I’m so hungry. Maybe you can fear me while I eat you, that would smell nice”

Annabelle summoned her scythe and then entered a combat stance. She was unsure whether she could even kill the thing in front of her. Celestine was neither fully awoken nor a Godbeast anymore. When the layers of skin suddenly formed into giant white hands and punched her through the walls, the intense pain in her body gave her the answer.

Tharia ached all over. Frederickus pulled her on her legs again and then began brushing off the snow. It didn’t help much. The beautiful clothes she had been given were dirty once more. Her brother had a strange expression on his face.

“You always liked dirtying yourself. When you did it with the chambermaid, I saw. That was the first time you seemed happy”, he said and Tharia grew red from embarrassment. The chambermaid had been her first many years ago.

“You really are lusting after your siblings”, she said with disgust in her tone. Frederickus stopped and smacked her hard across the jaw.

“Stupid cunt. I care for your purity, not your body. This is all your gods cursed fault!” he shouted and then kicked open the door to the nearby large building. He dragged her inside while babbling on with barely concealed anger.

“You are my gate to the room of wisdom. Only by hurting you can I embrace the forgotten knowledge locked within! Don’t you see what it offers us?”

Her brother pulled her deeper into the building. No matter how much she struggled, he was stronger. He had always been, even when he wasn’t – years of being his broken plaything had made her unable to defend herself. Decades of being tortured made her pliable and worthless. She sobbed as he threw her into a large room. The sound of giant hammers smashing down on metal shook her to the very bone.

Tharia pulled herself up from the metal floor and gazed directly at something not even her wildest nightmares knew existed. It was a machine that worked in a steady rhythm. Gears clicked into place, metal groaned and strange crystals pulsed with an odd light. This wasn’t the nightmare part. That honor belonged to the giant glistening heart at the core of it. It pulsed with pained life, blood shooting out from it and into long tubes.

Each pulse pushed more blood into the hundreds of capsules lined up along the sides. Tharia saw people inside of them, their mouths sewn shut and their bodies in a state of death – yet the machine-blood kept them alive. She felt nauseous. It was this point she realized a fundamental truth. Killing him would be a kindness.

“That’s the genius of the room Tharia. Do you see now?” he said and laughed with a joyous look on his face.

“You’re beyond fucked up”, Tharia answered with a whisper.

“Sister, you don’t understand. What you see is the heart of the world, once it starts beating proper, we can make the world whole again. You can finally love me like you always wanted to!” Frederickus said and ran down the path. His hands brushed along the metal bar that framed the pathway.

“Someone needs to put you down”, the words left her mouth without a conscious thought. She wobbled after him in a strange stupor.

“Don’t talk like that. You’re the key beloved sister. That night when I first hurt you, my dreams took me to the room. It was there that I gazed upon the secrets of creation itself. I’ve only hurt you so I could go back there. You must understand, your suffering opens the gates of creation!”

He reached a smaller room in the middle of it. When he opened it up, Tharia gazed upon piles of dead women. They all vaguely looked like her. Some of the bodies had been hooked up to strange glowing crystals and metal armors filled with gears, their faces were distorted from the pain of their final moments.

“See? Only you will do. It’s why I had you dressed up. This is mandatory. The others don’t work. I tried, they break too easily. But sister, when I broke your back, the room gave me wisdom eons old. It made me build the world engine that will bring a new era. I only need another glance, I know that the domain of gods is the final component, but I don’t know where. Come Tharia, let us usher in a new world”

Frederickus picked up a whip with studded nails in it. Tharia winced upon seeing it, but her feet slowly walked towards him.

“You understand me, right?” he shouted, eyes glazed over with madness as he wrapped the whip around his hand.

“Come, let your suffering open the gates again”

When Tharia finally stood in front of him, she realized a simple truth. Finally knowing why he had tortured her all those years had broken something inside of her. The answer was as absurd as it was insane. A smile crept onto her face. She looked up at him and took in the rapture of pure bliss on his grimace.

“You must not survive”, she said. Her younger brother was shivering with anticipation, he caressed the whip like a dear lover, while she was unarmed as she always had been. Helpless. Insignificant. Really fucking pissed. Her lightning-fast punch cracked teeth from his maw. While he keeled over in shock, her foot stomped down on his crotch. Frederickus crawled away from her while holding his lower region.

“See, your dick is more important to you than your teeth you shithumping piece of gunk, so much for purity”

The utter confusion in his face amused Tharia. Guess what, Frederick. You aren’t invincible after all. Tharia saw that his first instinct was to get back on his feet. She kicked his legs out from under him, watching him flop back down.

“Tharia, why are you doing this? I need you”, he said with a whimper.

Now that she looked at him properly, she forgot why she had ever feared him. She stretched her arms and rotated them slightly, loosening her muscles for what was to come. Something popped in her lower back. That’s why she had feared him. Well, not anymore. Yeah, he could hurt her, but only if she let him. She was done holding still.

“If killing you is kindness, I’m sorry to say I’m not a kind person”, she said and picked up a notched and rusted knife from a table nearby. Her steps accelerated until she was on top of him. With her feet, she pushed him to the ground and then straddled him. Her younger brother looked at her, still in shock that she even dared strike back. He seemed unable to process that she had grown teeth in the time apart. She leaned closer until she could feel his breath on her.

“Every time you broke me and the spark had to heal me again, I learned more about how the body works”, her voice whispered. The shock wouldn’t last forever. Already he was adapting. She saw it in his eyes that he was looking for chinks in her mental armor. Tharia acted before he could regain his senses properly. She picked up his left hand and then suddenly jammed the rusted knife straight through it. He bucked up in agony, tears shooting into his eyes.

“Why, you can’t, how”, he stammered. The man had poked the bear for years. Years of her passive suffering had made him bold, gave him that rush of power that made him feel on top. He wasn’t.

“When you do this, you cut the nerves and part of the central muscles. The hand becomes useless but the pain is really exquisite, isn’t it?” she said and picked up the other hand. He still looked at her, unable to respond as she poked the knife at his second hand. Instead of jabbing it in, she slowly bore the blade through. Her mind filtered out his screams and seeing him flail and cry without any sound whatsoever made it really rather funny to her. Years of repressed pure hatred seeped up.

“I’m a deeply broken woman”, she said and got up. With another kick into his groin, she put up a fake smile.

“I remember now. You loved this little game of hide and seek. What do you say we play again? This time, you run, you piss yourself, you slip on your entrails, your heart will stop, you will feel and pray for death – and then I’ll heal you back up, just so we can keep playing.”

“Please don’t do this”, he whimpered and quickly crawled away from her, his hands limp at his side.

“See, you do remember what I used to say”, she said while her smile turned ugly.

End: Behind the Veneer | Coming up: Enough.