Warning – violence and sexual violence
To view the original post with playlist follow this link
https://samanthajwright.com/2022/05/28/kali-part-2/
Instead of feeling gladness at her proclamation, Joel’s heart seized. She’d committed violence so casually, against men who were clearly traumatised and whose only sin was trying to find comfort in each other. These men didn’t want to be here. But for some reason he was not aware of yet, they risked being her next victim.
Who even was she?
A smell drifted into his nostrils.
Lawrence.
He was burning. His hair had caught fire.
He glanced away from the sickening scene.
Kali cackled. She had noticed.
‘It would seem our new ’guest’ is a little weak stomached. I suggest we initiate him into our ways. You can help him John, as a reward for your honesty. Take Lawrence to the abattoir and the two of you prepare him for tomorrow’s feast. Be sure to keep the heart, brain and cock for me. The rest we shall spit roast and dine on.’
Everyone appeared impassive. Joel swallowed back bile. It just kept coming until his body gave him no choice but to spew the liquids of his stomach violently onto the ground.
She laughed darkly.
‘Oh I shall have some fun with you little sparrow.’
He panted, mind darting in every direction. He wiped his hand across his mouth, lips pomegranate red and full.
‘I’m willing to learn Mistress. I will obey.’
She frowned for a millisecond then grinned.
‘We need more like him!’ she declared, then stood up to leave.
‘See to it!’ she barked over her shoulder at John. ‘You have your orders.’
Then she was gone.
Lawrence was immediately pulled from the vicinity of the fire. The flames were extinguished and the men gathered. Some hesitantly patted John and said minimal words of comfort, others just stared at the singed body in silence.
Joel could find nothing to say. Words seemed to hold no power in this place. Better that they stay inside where they could only hurt him. Words were what had killed Lawrence. They would not be the death of him.
The abattoir stunk. It was clearly in regular use. John lit a kerosene lamp after they had dumped Lawrence onto a rough hewn bench. By its light Joel saw hints of his torment.
John sharpened knives and meat cleavers with a whet stone and readied a large metal tray. He was taking a great deal of time over it all. Fussing over the details.
‘She is a woman,’ said Joel, eventually. ‘Just a woman.’
To his surprise, John laughed.
‘Is that what you think?’
‘Well isn’t she? She looks like one to me. A damn evil one.’
‘Shhh!’
John looked terrified.
‘That is not a woman,’ he whispered fiercely.
Joel raised his eyebrows.
‘What then?’
John raised a saw, gritted his teeth and began to cut the top of Lawrence’s skull off.
‘If you want to stay alive, I suggest you stop asking questions and just follow orders.’
Joel looked away, gagging when he heard the sawing stop and the squelch of brain tissue being removed and deposited on the tray.
‘Help me get it on a hook,’ John said.
Joel was horrified.
‘It? Wasn’t he your lover.’
‘He isn’t any more.’
Joel tried to avoid looking at what was left of Lawrence’s face as they drove the hook deep into his back leaving him suspended. He tried not to think about how he’d have been better off just dying in the blast or to have been caught by the looters and shot in the weeks following. Death would have been better than this invisible hand that was guiding him to forfeit his own humanity, causing him to feed upon his own soul, one bite at a time. With every act of avoidance and every question he merely swallowed instead of asking, he fell deeper into the clutches of whoever or whatever this ‘woman’ was.
What she truly was became clear at the feast the following evening.
Lawrence was roasted on a spit and as Kali watched on dining on his raw brain and heart, everyone partook of platefuls of ‘meat’ as if it were normal and chattered amongst themselves. Joel had been handed a plate also. But he ignored the growling of his stomach and merely pretended to eat. It broke his heart that he found the smell enticing beyond belief. It broke his heart that Lawrence’s former comrades could do what they were doing. He realised in that moment he was probably going to suffer the same fate very soon. Fitting in came at just too high a price.
A sudden blast of air washed over him from behind.
‘Are you not going to eat that little sparrow?’ a voice hissed.
It was Kali. But she had not moved.
How could this be? She was still sitting on her throne.
Joel could utter no words.
A third version of Kali appeared before him crouching and looking possessed of all things evil.
‘Do you not appreciate the sustenance Mistress Kali has provided?’
Everyone had stopped talking and eating. From across the fire, John looked at him pleadingly.
She was so close now in multiple directions and versions, he could see an entire universe of black inside her eyes that backed up the claim she was far more than a woman.
Sitting naked, the same as the others, his petrified cock tried to burrow into his groin.
‘I…do. I do appreciate it.’
‘Then eat.’
Another Kali had appeared. In one hand she held what was left of Lawrence’s brain. In the other, she held his cock, stiff with rigor mortis. Staring directly at Joel she gave it a long deliberate lick with her huge tongue.
Joel actually found it a relief to turn away and look at his plate. Shakily, he lifted a piece of ‘meat’ and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly, telling himself, if the others could do it, so could he. It wasn’t a man anymore, it was food. Just food.
Stay alive.
Stay alive.
He swallowed and yet another Kali appeared. His terror did not lift.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now sample this.’
She held out a chunk of brain and bade him open his mouth. His body wanted to wretch up that which he’d already swallowed but behind the many versions of her, the men nodded. Urging him.
He did as commanded and all the versions of her applauded and merged into one.
‘You must be rewarded,’ she said, savagely devouring the rest of the gore dripping brain.
He felt faint.
‘Thank you Mistress,’ he breathed.
‘Lie on your back.’
‘Paval, Gerard, hold his legs.’
Convinced he was going to pass out, Joel submitted. As he looked up at the night sky, his legs held wide and over his head, he felt pressure on his anus. It ceased. He looked up and saw her spitting on the severed cock that had once belonged to Lawrence and then the pressure returned again.
His mind did not want to accept what was happening. The horror, the pain, fucking or the fear. From somewhere distant inside himself, he heard her groaning and roaring as her actions quickened. And then the memory came to him, retrieved from many years ago; a book he had read in his youth by Arthur C Clarke, the famous Science Fiction writer – it was called The Hammer of God. It featured an account of an asteroid hurtling through space on a course to end all civilisation. It had been named Kali – after the Hindu goddess of chaos and divine destruction.
Had Kali come to destroy them all? Is this what John meant when he said she was not just a woman?
Was this her?