Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Come here,” Ryet says. His voice is soothing and calm. He hand is reaching between my legs. “Come on, just come back to us. I’ll take care of you, Paul.” And then he’s fisting my cock and—
I sit up. Straight up. Which takes a huge amount of effort because it displaces a lot of dirt.
Then I just stare into the darkness. Lowercase, not proper noun Darkness.
What is real?
Is this real?
Has anything ever been real?
I don’t move. Don’t turn my head. Just let my eyes look around a little. Then I listen. I hear the beating hearts of scions in the ground, and the voices of scions above—the ones who didn’t partake in the ritual. They are looking for us. They have found the fresh dirt. They are thinking about digging us up because they want blood.
Josep says, “Don’t go up there.” His voice is calm, and low, and deep as it always is.
But it’s not out loud, it’s in my head. Which is how it should be, we’re in the ground after all. But the veil of unreality is still mingling with my dreams and I’m not convinced this is real yet.
“You’re fine,” Josep says, again in my head. “It’s the actualization.” Then he lets out a breath. “I think.”
“You think?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m having them too.”
“The dreams?”
“Yes. I was in a candy store lusting after lollipops.” He says these words in his typical monotone, unaffected way.
So I laugh. “I was Jon Snow.”
“Who?”
“For fuck’s sake, Josep. Why must you be so antiquated? You can’t just ignore pop culture, OK? You have to keep up with the times!”
“You’re insane.”
I blow out a breath, which displaces the dirt and sends it back into my mouth. “I might be.”
“Just kidding. You’re not insane. You’re just not actualized yet.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I’m tired of this and I’m going up top. Are you coming with me?”
“No. I’m going to eat that lollipop. It tastes like Little Baby.”
“Who?”
But he’s gone and I’m alone again.
Which is probably not a bad thing since he’s no saner than I am. We’re going through the same change and it’s causing… hallucinations. Or something.
I start clawing my way up through the dirt, justifying my decision to pause my actualization because I need to give these leftover scions a job or they will start doing things that will piss me off later.
They begin talking excitedly as they realize the dirt is being displaced and someone is emerging from the ground. They don’t know it’s me yet, so they are blurting out things like, “This is fucked up!” “We got left behind!” and “We need to dig them all up and demand our share!”
Which is pretty ballsy.
I respect ballsy. It’s a quality I look for in a minion. But it’s disrespectful when directed at me.
I emerge from the dirt and since I’m covered in it and not in my beautiful Paul form, they don’t know who it is and these complaints continue for a few more seconds.
But then I am out, and my wings are spreading, and they are gasping, and shocked, and then, in unison, they realize who I am and kneel with heads bowed. Together, like it was planned this way, they say, “My lord!”
It’s a very Jon Snow moment.
I exhale. Tired of myself. Tired of the insanity and confusion. And very tired of this Jon Snow thing. “Rise,” I say, lifting a hand up for effect.
My scions all get to their feet, most still looking down with bowed heads, but more than a few taking peeks at me.
One, in particular, nearly looks me in the eyes. I point to him. “What is your name?”
He takes a moment. He doesn’t swallow hard, like he’s gulping down his fear, but he wants to. “Kael, my lord.”
“Kael. That’s right. I remember you.” I smile here because Kael, in my memory, was quite fun in bed. Not as fun as Ryet. I like the chase and Ryet gave me the chase of a lifetime. But Kael put up a good fight too. It was more physical than mental, if I remember correctly.
I walk over to him, keeping my eyes locked with his. Then I place a hand on his cheek. “Are you mad, Kael? That you’re not in the ground?”
“What do you think, my lord?”
Yes, the balls on this one are big. “I think you’re misunderstanding what is happening here.”
“Maybe you could enlighten us, Lord?” This doesn’t come from Kael, but from a lesser scion I call Leo. He looks nervous when I look over at him. “I mean,” he backpedals, “if you want to, that is. Only if you want to, my lord.”
I smile at him, putting him at ease, then turn my attention back to Kael. “You’re the control group, Kael. That’s why you’re not in the ground with the rest of them.”