~ Penhale at Sunrise ~
by K. Alexander


You can find the DISCLAIMER and WARNINGS on Part one

Constructive criticism welcomed. Find me at: kalexy@webmail.co.za

"In the equation of two nuclear bombs you are barely a spark of static electricity. Layla."
She had not said the name, did not know it to use it, but Layla could hear the intention.
"There will be no fight. It is not my business. You are not my business."


03h30

"Aren't you lonely?"

Mahasti seemed amused. From her perch on the edge of the roof she looked over at her visitor. There was no expression on her face, but to Layla's eyes a small smile appeared to curve around the dark woman's lips.

"No."

"I think you are."

It wasn't a question, and by her silence Mahasti was clearly back in the no-question no-answer zone.

Leaving her be for the moment, Layla took stock of herself and the situation. It was improbably peaceful up there with the sinister and imperturbable woman, waiting for what was likely to be a bad experience. Very bad, if she wasn't mistaken. Of course, Mahasti could have been lying or exaggerating… but that wasn't something that appeared to be in Mahasti's nature.

Sometimes, just sometimes, being lied to for your own good was preferable to the stark ugly bleak truth.

Leaning back Layla enjoyed the feeling of the moonlight washing over her. It gave her the sensation she probably would have felt … earlier… when she was in the sun. A light breeze was blowing. Considering that winter was approaching she should have been cold, but the night was velvety on her skin. She could see in the dark, she'd realized somewhere in this evening. Objects were crystal clear, as if there was a beam shining on them. Extending her arms she flexed her fingers. Her limbs moved differently. Slower, faster, she couldn't tell which. There was a languidness to her actions that she could not control, and it felt almost like an extension of her state of mind. As if she were suspended, swimming through the newly viscous nature of the air around her.

Turning her head she caught Mahasti watching her flexing fingers. The dark woman looked on without comment, her gaze following the slow movements quietly. Stretching her legs in front of her - for once unafraid to fall - Layla reveled at the feeling of muscle uncoiling.

"When will I begin to want… blood?"

Mahasti's eyes stayed on the slow movements. "Tomorrow night, perhaps. You will come into all effects only later. It is different for each."

"But I won't make it to tomorrow night."

"No."

Inhaling deeply - a bizarrely airless feeling - Layla frowned. "I feel so … healthy. Good. Like I could do anything."

No question. No answer. Did Layla expect anything else?

"It seems wrong. This seems wrong, you know?"

"I do not understand what you mean."

"It's not right." Even as she actually tried to work herself up Layla could feel the emotion slipping away from her, leaving her much too calm and clear. "I've turned into a monster; something that will be killing other beings. It's everything I stand again. Stood against? Maybe it's just my puritanical nature, but I sort of expected suffering. Of some kind, you know? Any kind. To make up for the atrocity to come, if you will. I didn't expect to feel like an Olympic athlete, with my capacity for remorse perceptibly slipping away. It's disgraceful… distasteful. Do you even understand what I'm trying to say, Mahasti?"

The dark woman looked over the rooftops for such a long time that Layla thought she'd discarded the question. Finally, she spoke.

"A jaguar does not curse the fact that it is more powerful than its prey. It does not expect to compensate in some manner for its nature. It does what it is made to do. When it can no longer do what it is made to do, it is done away with, and rarely in a pleasant fashion. Therein lies its recompense."

"That's easier to say when you're the jaguar than when you're the deer."

Mahasti nodded. "And yet, the jaguar cannot think as the deer. It does not kill because it is evil, but because that is its nature - and the jaguar knows only its own nature."

"Except," laying her hand on her chest Layla marveled at the silence within her body for a moment, "this jaguar knows the nature of the deer. This jaguar was the deer."

If she had still been capable of being startled, the sudden motion as Mahasti shifted forward and placed her own cold hand over Layla's would have scared the living crap out of her. As it was, she felt an icy shiver travel down her spine. This close, Mahasti's eyes were intensely black.

"This jaguar will never be a deer again, and so must reconcile with being a jaguar."

They sat like that for a while, Mahasti's cold hand soothing over Layla's, and then the dark woman pulled away and turned back towards the city. Layla watched her sharp profile with a sliver of amusement.

"You know you're in trouble when the crazies start to make sense." Not expecting an answer, she rubbed her neck thoughtfully. "Does Penhale live in this building?"

"No. He lives elsewhere."

"But…" with a frown Layla bit her lip. "If he comes at sunrise, how does he get here? And how does he get back?"

"He moves in the day."

"I thought you said you couldn't go out into the sun?"

"I cannot. Penhale is not like me. I have told you this. He has taken an elder before. His bloodline is enhanced."

"So if you killed him you'd be able to go out?" Layla stared at Mahasti. "That's good enough reason."

"There is nothing different beyond this place."

"There's more!"

"I have no need of more."

"You know," jumping up Layla glared down at Mahasti, "fuck you and your no need of anything. If this is what I get to be like, then perhaps it's better that I try my luck against Penhale."

Rising to her feet fluidly Mahasti graced Layla with a blank look. "Perhaps."

"And don't think that I'm going to be going to wherever it is he and you want me to go like a good girl. I'm going to be fucking kicking and screaming, do you hear me?"

"I hear you."

The neutrality was getting to her. Shoving her hands deep in her pockets Layla glowered at Mahasti. "I was hoping to reach some shred of compassion in you, but obviously you're beyond that. Never mind a jaguar - you're a fucking leech. You throw bits to the monster so he won't pay too much attention to you. You're a coward. At least Judas got something out of the deal. You know what?" Stomping closer she grabbed Mahasti's hand and, fishing a battered and abandoned silver coin out of her pocket, slammed it down into the woman's palm. "Here. Now at least you have something to show for it. It's not thirty, but it will have to do."

Mahasti yanked her hand back so abruptly that Layla stepped back, startled. The coin dropped to the concrete floor between them with a melodious ting. The woman looked at Layla with dark unfathomable eyes, and then down at her casually curled hand where the claret-coloured blood was already brimming heavily on a jagged circular laceration. Glancing down too, Layla smirked spitefully.

"So Judas the jaguar can't even take her … what did you call it? Compensation. Serves you fucking right."

Mahasti closed her bleeding hand indifferently. "Perhaps."

"Fuck off." Turning around, Layla made her way back to the ladder where they had first ascended the roof. She could hear Mahasti move behind her, following her.

"You do not know which way to go."

"I'm going away from you. That's good enough for me. Like it fucking matters!"

As she climbed down the ladder she could hear the other woman on the rungs above her, and again behind her on the ledge as she moved carelessly over the abyss back to the grate. When she reached for the edge of the hatch and felt hands wrap around her waist she let go and stepped back angrily.

"Mahasti, I want you to leave me alone. Whatever screwed up idea you have, whatever you think you still owe me, consider it done. You've made yourself clear as to where you stand. I'm not going with you. Leave. Me. Alone."

No question. No answer. The dark woman merely nodded - barely; so barely that Layla knew the motion rather than saw it - and remained where she was.

With one last dark scowl Layla grasped the edge of the hatch and pulled herself up, away from Mahasti. This time she was not followed.



04h45

She was lost. Whatever this… thing had done to her, it hadn't given her a sudden innate knowledge of her environment. She had gone in one direction, and then in another. She had climbed, and then she had dropped. Occasionally she found a hatch, but inevitably they led to rooms that housed pipes or machinery. Rooms with latched metal doors. She'd tried to break those down, but evidently she did not have the power that Mahasti possessed. Yet? Well, she wouldn't have the chance to find out. The only assistance that she could make out from her condition was that she wasn't actually getting tired.

One more turn. One more dead end.

One more drop. One more climb.

If she'd still been Layla, she would have been crying with frustration and worry by now. As this new thing, she could feel only a mild level of distress.

One more turn. One more dead end?

Except that it wasn't. There was a grate in the wall, small enough that she'd probably have to skin her limbs to get through it. Approaching with caution she grasped the edges of the metal square and pulled. It was stuck fast. Clenching her teeth she leaned back and put her newly acquired muscle into it, trying to pry the metal from the wall where it was bolted. A long low grunt escaped from her throat, but underneath it she could hear the whine of a stressed element - and then the grate gave way. She almost fell back, but found her footing just in time. Putting the grate to one side she stuck her head through the open hatch, peering into the small dark room below hurriedly.

Empty.

A she'd thought the hatch was so small that she skinned her shoulders going through. Nevertheless, it was nothing compared to the feeling of lightness she felt when she landed on the carpeted floor. Extending her hands towards the roof she stretched luxuriously, and then took a good look at her surroundings.

It looked like an unused broom closet. Shelving hugged the walls around her, and in one corner a bucket stood, lonely and forlorn.

With a satisfied huff Layla stepped forward and tried the door. Locked. Bending down, she peered at the door handle. It was a standard metal job, and she was going to get through it if she had to break it down with her shoulder. Gauging the distance and the weak point she lifted one foot and kicked out sharply. Beneath her building power the weak lock couldn't hold. The door cracked. Shoving it open with her hands Layla stepped out into what was obviously a conference room.

She knew, as she entered the room, that she wasn't alone, but by then it was too late.

He sat at the furthest end of the large oak table, his fingers steepled in front of him meditatively. His dark eyes were already on her, and though she wouldn't have been able to tell him from anyone else on the street by his nondescript appearance, his pitch-black malicious orbs would have given him away as something… dreadful. They were amused, now, the expression heightened by his obnoxious smile. He had long greasy black hair, tucked behind his ears haphazardly; his chin was cleft and stubbly; beneath his dark shirt Layla could make out a narrow bony frame. Her scrutiny was swift, but his eyes were faster. Raising one eyebrow he smirked.

She would never get back through the hatch in time. He was sitting, she was already standing, she was closer to the door… but she knew.

Steeling herself she walked forward, though her body was urging her backwards, away from him. Reaching forward she placed her hands on the back of the chair opposite him, studying him across the length of the table.

"Penhale."

The man's smile curved into something truly revolting.

"I'm impressed. She came."

His words were aimed past her. When she turned her head to look over her shoulder - her body was screaming at her not to let him out of her sight - she was almost resigned to find Mahasti behind her, guarding the door.

"As I have already told you."

Mahasti's slight smile was nearly as horrific as his.



05:15

"You led me into a trap?"

Mahasti was unfazed. "I left you alone, as you requested. You came of your own volition."

There was a rustle as Penhale rose from his chair. Looking at him brought to Layla's mind the thought she'd had when seeing Mahasti properly for the first time. He wasn't in the darkness - he was the darkness. His approach was soundless and inhumanly fast. He stopped a few meters away from her, and his eyes took her in with delight. Slowly. So slowly that her skin crawled.

"Good." Cocking his head he sniffed. "Fresh. Ahh."

Layla started as he drew a finger harshly down her back - she hadn't even seen him lift his hand - no doubt leaving slashed skin in the path of his merciless touch. She wasn't sure if her mind was simply telling her things, but where he touched her she felt as if maggots were swarming against her. Under his stroke her shirt tore, and when he reached her lower back it simply fell from her.

Glancing up, she caught Mahasti's gaze. To her surprise, the woman's dark eyes studied her chest, her shoulders, the top of her breasts with something akin to … lust. Was she wrong? Was there even expression? She couldn't say anymore. Behind Layla Penhale chuckled, a rank breathless chortle.

"Want a little something for yourself, Mahasti?"

Layla watched, as the dark woman took in the expanse of bared flesh leisurely before black eyes lifted to meet hers blankly. She wondered if Penhale would let her go, if Mahasti said yes now.

"I have no need."

Penhale obviously felt the tremor as it rippled through Layla. His chuckle turned into a full-throated barked laugh which sounded as if had been calculated to be repulsive.

"Wouldn't it have been nice to know you were wanted? But our Mahasti doesn't know anything about need. There are probably a few you could have fulfilled for her, that she's not even aware of having, but … oh well." The last two words were spat out sharply, calculated to squash her hopes with the most force available to him. Stepping closer, he pushed himself against her. "I certainly have some of those. And if our Mahasti doesn't have any need of you…"

Layla was so focused on the repulsive closeness of him, the fetid smell of his breath on her, that she didn't notice Mahasti moving. Suddenly the woman was right in front of her, so close that she was pressed between the lengths of the two lean bodies. Mahasti looked into her eyes, and then over her shoulder at Penhale. The dark woman's gaze was no longer calm - there was something brutal raging behind her expression.

Without warning she leaned in and claimed Layla's mouth roughly. Her kiss was cold, her mouth fierce. Mahasti was so forceful that Layla had to wrap a shaking hand in the other woman's shirt to avoid hurtling backwards into the repulsive presence behind her. There was nothing of the calm emotionless woman that Layla had known. Mahasti's lips plundered hers pitilessly, Mahasti's tongue drove into her mouth, Mahasti's hand fixed on the back of her head, tangled in her hair painfully so that she couldn't move.

She felt the edgy pressure on her tongue and the sudden pain right before her mouth welled up with warm blood. Gagging on the taste she pushed Mahasti away forcefully. Her power would not have been enough - the other woman was immeasurably stronger - but nevertheless Mahasti stepped back at the demand. Her face shaped itself into silent enjoyment as she wiped the streak of blood from her bottom lip.

"Hmm." It was a deep rumbled purr from her throat. Her eyes fixed on Layla darkly. "Perhaps I had forgotten that I am a jaguar."

Angrily spitting out blood, Layla snarled at Mahasti. "You're a Judas, asshole. Complete with kiss-off money."

"Enough!" Penhale's voice cut through her. She could feel the obscene bulge in his groin pressing against her thigh. His hand reached around and wrapped around her jaw, and then he was pivoting her around roughly to face him. Black orbs glittered with hunger. "Got under our Mahasti's skin, did you? I didn't think that would ever happen… that she'd be open to any persuasion… but seeing that you've brought that out in her, I can't wait to see what you bring out in me. Tasty." His gaze slipped over her to Mahasti.
"I would have let you have her before..."

"Now." Mahasti's voice was smooth, and cut over his like a knife.

Penhale gave a little chuckle, his breath washing over Layla. "… but you shouldn't have put on that little show. Mahasti. Now my needs are immediate - and they supercede yours." With a lewd movement he ground himself against Layla. "Stay and watch, or leave. Either way, IT'S. MY. TURN."

Layla had no chance to register where Mahasti was before Penhale's mouth descended on hers harshly. His lips were icy, his tongue sweeping over her mouth hunting for blood - and though Mahasti had been rough, compared to Penhale her touch had been positively tender. She struggled backwards, but he wrapped his long wiry arms around her and crushed her against him without much effort.

Suddenly, his dark eyes snapped open. His grip slipped from her back.

Surging forward, she kept her lips fastened to his, her mouth working against his. He tried to pull back, but Mahasti was behind him. The dark woman wrapped her arms around both him and Layla, holding them together forcibly in a violent lovers' embrace.

His eyes rolled back. With awkward motions he began to claw at whatever was closest, trying to free his hands from Mahasti's grip. Blood ran from his mouth, first in a small trickle and then more profusely. Layla pulled back and he choked gutturally, spitting out a cascade of dark crimson.

When Mahasti loosened her grip he toppled sideways, gagging, his limbs unresponsive. Curling up on the carpet he coughed and retched hoarsely, clutching at his throat, leaving deep gashes in his own flesh.

With one of the deep phlegmy coughs, a small battered silver coin slipped out of his throat to his mouth, and then thunked dully onto the carpet. On Penhale's tongue a multitude of gushing red circular lesions were just visible in the darkness.

Stepping over him, Layla approached Mahasti, spitting out the last of the blood in her mouth as she did so. She grasped the dark woman's jaw between her fingers, pressing lightly at her cheeks until Mahasti opened her mouth. The coin-shaped lesions were still bleeding badly, and a dribble of crimson snaked down the corner of Mahasti's mouth. With one finger Layla gently wiped it away.

"Your poor mouth."

Taking Layla's hand in her own, Mahasti removed it from her solemn face. "It will heal."

"I have no doubt." Running her tongue over her own very slightly stinging mouth Layla grinned. "I can't tell you how glad I am, right now, that I'm still just a fresh one."

The dark woman smiled minutely. It was filled with triumph, and it was more than a little bloody. "He had no time to call them, but I must take him up into the pipes before day. After I … dispose of him, I will need rest."

With one last squeeze of Layla's hand she let the other woman go and bent to lift Penhale by his lapels onto her shoulders.

Layla smiled. "Shall I follow?"

. "Needs must." Mahasti shot her a wicked glance. Or perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't.


THE END


Author's post-script:

Trivia
If you're curious and you're wondering just how much fun I was having with this:

Mahasti - Origin: Persian, "The moon's being"
Layla - Origin: Egyptian, "Born at night"
Zonbi - Louisiana Creole or Haitian Creole zonbi, of Bantu origin; akin to Kimbundu nzúmbe: Ghost
Kochon - Origin: Haitian Creole, "Pig"
Does Penhale mean anything? Nope. That just was his name from the beginning, and try as I might I couldn't shift it.

State of mind music:
I almost never write without a soundtrack - it helps me to set a consistent atmosphere and keeps my thoughts together. Whilst working on this I was listening to Portishead, Evanescence, Lacuna Coil, some Tori Amos and Within Temptation. I call it my hallucinogenic playlist.

Also
I've already been rapped over the knuckles because the story is so short and sudden, but the fact is that it's already about twenty pages longer than I intended it to be. I'm genetically incapable of leaving out dialogue.

Pps.
I've never written a horror, so the answer is lots. I was having lots of fun. Buckets. Ten-ton earth-moving truckloads of fun. Sadistic grind-my-little-teeth-and-giggle-maniacally sort of fun. And I hope you were having just a little fun with me too.



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