Sunday - Late Night

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

Twenty nautical miles out of Svendborg Skibsværft.

Warning -- gore



They were laid out on their beds. Thirteen beds in two rows, each with one of Mother's beloved, resting peacefully with their hands clasped on the stomach. They had paid top dollar for these accommodations, and for the discretion of the crew, and they would sleep along with their Mother, as the ship made it's way across the ocean to it's destination. They were asleep for longer and longer, waking only to feed their Mother. She was growing tired, and needed her rest, too much excitement wore on her. But not for long. The Star and the Eye were hers now, and not a moment too soon. The wheels were turning, and soon others would feel the blood and the ash of Mother's will.

Her Disciples slept peacefully, content with their Mother.

Except for one.

He sat on his bed, jacket and shoes neatly folded and laid across the bottom. There was a table and a chair next to his bed, his hand he had on the table, fingers splayed. In his other hand was a knife.

He waited there, as the clock ticked in the corner. Unmoving.

Finally, a door opened, and footsteps sounded on the floor. A well-dressed black man came into view and took the seat across from him.

"There is our favorite son, how are we feeling?" The man known as Cutter said.

"Well, thank you," said Donal McGrath. The burns were healing rapidly, much quicker than any of Mother's previous Disciples. Donal was special, in more ways than one.

Cutter nodded, and then placed his hands on the table.

"You know what you did," Cutter said. His tone was serious. Donal ducked his head in shame.

"Mother is starting to have her doubts, everyone else had completed their tasks to the fullest, but you? You are our strongest and our brightest, and you know you are Mother's beloved son."

Donal said nothing, but his grip tightened on the knife.

"Well?" said Cutter.

"I am sorry," Donal said, his voice was soft. "She keeps getting stronger. I underestimated her. Again."

"And what will you do for your Mother?"

Without hesitation, Donal took the knife and chopped off the fingers of his splayed hand. Blood spurted out, bright crimson shot with threads of black, and it hissed and boiled as it came in contact with the nitrogen in the air. Donal's mutant gift, once so hated, now so useful to his Mother. It scorched the table, as his fingers flopped uselessly.

"You will not underestimate her again," said Cutter.

"No," Donal said hoarsely.

"You will do what must be done."

"I will, a thousand times over, I will."

Cutter regarded Donal for a long moment, then he stood and placed a hand on Donal's shoulder.

"You are forgiven. You know that Mother loves you, and always will." Cutter said. A look of pure ecstasy blossomed on Donal's face.

"I love her," he said in a pained gasp. "I love her so much," tears began to leak from his eyes, and they made a black trail down his cheeks. His smile was beauteous.

"That's our boy," Cutter said. He reached into the pocket of jacket and took out his handkerchief, blotting Donal's tears like a Father to a small child. He nodded at the fingers that wriggled on the tabletop, like worms.

Donal edged his maimed hand closer, and small tendrils of black shot out of his missing fingers, pulling themselves back into their sockets. The skin healed around the cuts, leaving red weals. Soon it would fade back into smooth brown skin.

Mother took care of her children. Of her good girls and boys. Donal had been naughty, but he would prove himself again. He had Mother's complete faith in him.

"Rest," Cutter commanded, and Donal obediently leaned back into the bed, stretching out his long form and clasping his healing hand in the other, folding them neatly on his stomach. His eyelids closed over his shattered eyes.

Cutter left them there, Mother's children, and made his way back to her. She would be pleased. Behind him the acid from Donal finished eating it's way through the table, and it collapsed in on itself with a clatter. None of the Disciples flinched at the noise.

It was to be a long journey, and they needed their rest for what was to come ahead.