Voracious Memory

His friend had died – an accidental death, they told him. Mangled in a tractor, probably drunk… he came to me, called to me, walking down the old, country road beside the field in which his friend had taken his last breaths. His pain, his sorrow, his memories called out to me, and I came for him, out from among the trees.

When he knew I was walking beside him, he stopped, not in surprise, but in gratitude. I hadn’t come to his call in years, and he hadn’t thought I would. We began to walk again, together this time, down that dusty course, as he told me the story of their friendship, the chronicle of his ally’s death.

I listened as he spilled his emotional blood upon my ears, upon my body – I soaked it all up, swallowed it down, as we walked that lonely trail. As we came to the end of the path, and it narrowed into the rocks and boulders, making its way up the hills and into the treeline, he stopped, finally empty of words. Not empty of pain, not empty of memory… never that. But empty of things to express it, run completely dry of ways to say it, yes.

I gave him dark eyes, eyes he could meet, as I always have. This time, though, I reached out to take his hand. “Come with me, J. Come with me into the hollow hills. Come lose your pain among us. It’s not a paltry thing.”

He looked at me in surprise. In all the time I’d known him as he grew, I’d never once offered to steal him away. I’d only been there as a silent companion, a guardian, an ear and a guide. This time was different for us both. My hunger had risen, and I could feel his pain, feel the memories of his life behind his eyes, so many of them dark and tumultuous. Such delicious agony, something I could roll through my blood like sweet wine, candy in my pulse. I wanted him. I wanted his suffering. I wanted to give him peace.

I looked at him with my empty eyes, I gave him no power, despite my need and how much it cost not to trick him. It had to be his choice. If he came to my arms, it had to be his choice. He looked behind him, down the lane we had just traversed, not seeing the pale yellow soil, but instead, seeing again the loss of his best friend, among so many other losses. He looked backwards across time, and in an instant, I watched him make his choice.

He turned, and took my hand, nodded once, and we began to climb. I had to wrestle with my hunger for a moment, not to take him right here, in among the scrub trees, but I knew there would be time for that later, and I could wait.

We traveled the Faery Ways, the lines of power leading up into the hills like a map towards the Door, and rapidly we spilled out before the heart of my Sithen. I spoke the words that would open the way, and we slipped into Faery, the song of the Hills all around us, like a hypnotic drug to him, but lulling my Hunger into peace for a moment.

As with all Sithens, mine responds to my Will, and my Will was first and foremost to Feed. Within a few steps we came upon the antechamber to my rooms, and I drew him in. His eyes rounded when he saw the bed, beyond, and I tugged his hand to catch his attention. “Do you trust me?”

He looked at me, now. Really, really looked at me, saw my differences… but he reviewed them through years of memory. I had never been Fae to him. I had only been his friend from the woods. He looked at me through those years of careful hunting, and he said what all mortals say when we come for them. He said, “Yes.”

“Then remove your vestments  and come to me,” I replied. “I will not hurt you, but you do not belong with us, and this is my way of making you belong.” Always tell them that you’re changing them, even if you don’t say how.

There are other ways to change a human into something that can live in Faery, but I was hungry, and we didn’t need more Fae, we needed food. His pain called to me like a siren singing sailors onto rocks, and so I chose to fall, to sacrifice his ship upon my needs. He was my friend, as much as the Fae and humans can be such. I wanted his pain to end. The fact that mine would, too, was a bonus to us both.

His clothing fell like wrappings from a child’s birthday party, though he was shy and seldom looked at me while he did it. I found his innocence odd, but he was young, and perhaps that was a human thing. I briefly wondered what his history was, but discarded the thought as something that wouldn’t matter in a moment – I would know it soon, and he would not. Therefore it made no difference. I put aside my curiosity, and drew him gently into my chambers.

I lay him down upon the bedding, and looked at him finally. He was beautiful for a human. His hair was oddly shorn, cut close to his scalp, baring his ears and his neck. His eyes were a deep brown, with a star-burst of amber near the pupil, and there was a virtue, a stainless purity to them, despite the haze of darkness and pain, as if, surrounded by horrors, he had been untouched by the pleasures the world might offer. Humans are so strange that they will allow only violence as acceptable, but seeking love is regarded as… what word do they use? Ah, SIN. Such a strange idea, that something created by the Divine could also be Godless. I shook my head, and threw the thoughts out of me, and refocussed on my prize, casting my eyes away from those eyes, and down his body.

My fingers trailed the path my eyes followed… down the sides of his throat, where his pulse vibrated eagerly, and carefully, I licked the skin over it. No teeth with the humans… they bleed too easily. I slid my thumbs across the hollow at the base of his throat, and he stirred gently against me. My fingers trailed along his skin, around his shoulders, down his silky arms. I felt a strange softness, and discovered hairs to play with. As I brushed them, exploring his reactions, he reached for me, and I slid out of his hands easily. This would be MY conquest, this first moment.

I curled my fingers into his palms, brushing them gently, and his fingers twitched. I kissed the center of his palms, and carefully slid my tongue over his fingers, one after the other. Carefully, because all my teeth are sharp as blades, and I didn’t want to damage this one. As I explored his hand with my mouth, his other hand caressed my hair, and I reached up and took his wrist, pinning it to the bed. His waist jerked towards me, and I smiled against his skin.

I drew back towards his throat, and began to kiss, lick, suckle my way down his shoulders, towards his nipples. His need was building, and my hunger was beginning to move within him, and as I held him pinned below me, and explored him with my mouth, flashes of memory begin to pour into me, flashes of pain, flashes of darkness… and he gave them up for the pleasure of my touch, gave them willingly, gave them gratefully.

They always do, never knowing how much I’ll take, and not caring.

I let his hands go, and caressed the sides of his body as I trailed my mouth ever downwards, now using my hair as another way to touch him, dancing the heavy silken strands across the skin dampened by my attentions. Little sounds were coming from his innocent mouth as I nibbled around his groin, letting the change of texture tickle my face. He arched below me, his body demanding without words, because I had stolen his thoughts.

I rose up, and licked his rosebud mouth with my tongue until he opened his eyes to me. I kissed him, staring into those perfectly beautiful, so-human eyes, and as he kissed me back, my power came in a skin-rushing tingle over us both, my own eyes beginning to glow, my skin shining, as I slid my body over his, and we came together, his cries of triumph eaten by my mouth upon his own.

He slid his arms around me, wrapped his legs around my body, and rolled us over. I am stronger than human, but I let him, in this moment, drowning in the feeling of his body inside mine, the memories flickering faster and faster, the energy he pumped into me with each flick of his hips driving me thoughtlessly wild.

I took him. I took his mind. I drowned in his memories, while he bucked above me, pinning me to the bed, pouring himself into my body, again and again, until we were writhing, screaming, pleasure spilling from our skins, and I fed.

In the aftermath, he lay exhausted, nestled in my arms, relearning how to breathe. I felt the Hunger, silent for now, waiting. I let his memories drift, the darkness and the pain filling that hole in me temporarily, slowly fading. I caressed his hair, and he opened his eyes to look at me.

There was no recognition there. There was nothing but a child-like look in those eyes, empty of personality, empty of experiences. I reached for the bell beside the bed, and rang it twice.

One of the lesser Sidhe came in at my call. “Yes, my Queen?”

“This one will need to go with the others, to the garden,” I said.

“Yes, my Queen,” said the Sidhe. He walked towards the bed, and took my friend’s hand, and escorted him, naked, from the room. J didn’t know he was naked. He didn’t know he was J. He didn’t know that last night his best friend had gotten drunk enough to end up mangled in a tractor. He didn’t know he had a mother, or a girlfriend. He didn’t know that he was only 23. He didn’t know that he’d wanted to be a doctor. He didn’t remember that he had a dog when he was a child, and that burying that dog in the woods was how we met. J didn’t remember me. He went with the Sidhe man, to the place where we keep our cattle, our servants, our food, and when the door shut behind them, I took in a deep, shuddering breath, and let the first tear fall.

J was my friend. I will remember him forever. I will remember for him forever. But the hunger will come back.

Will you be next? For a night of such pleasure, will you give up your soul, give up all that makes you you?

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