The QUEEN SONG
(18) Scenes 39-40
Mike W McCoy
<>39<> Crawling to the corpse.
The big bridal suite of the Grand California Resort had high gold gilded walls cracked from the last earthquake, and looked as if they could collapse with a hard
push. The 0-dark-thirty lighting inside helped to conceal most of the details, but the creepy dimness did not suppress the overwhelming sense of doom dominating the spectral
Both sliding glass doors opposite the entrance, were broken off about knee height, and barricaded on each side with a thick, languishing layer of desert sand.
More sand, dirt, and debris covered the entire floor plan, giving the room a slightly tilted feel.
The sliding door’s tall, tattered, rust-colored curtains twitched subtly, as if ghosts were peeking inside to watch the creature formally known as Experiment Number
Eight enter. She approached a shallow bowl dug into the sand, which was lined with dull colored rags, but the steps were hesitant and awkward as she neared the depression. The scratchy
material formed a bedding for a pair of infants curiously curled up close.
The curtains allowed in a slice of moonlight like a knife blade of illumination. Under this ethereal glow, the twin’s resemblance to their Mother was obvious but
not practical. Her overall physical form had dramatically changed since their birth, and now, being no longer wholly human in appearance, she displayed the distinctly Alien vibe.
Although each child had the same aggressive jaunting jaw line and dark brown-on-black eyes, neither twin had the awkward gait of backward-bending knees that their
mother now had. Nor had they the stark hard ridges cresting her significantly curved spine from the back of her, now oddly shaped, oval skull to the newly grown vestigial tail. The
Mother’s arms and hands also appeared longer and stronger, as if she had a late life Alien hormonal growth spurt.
Atop the woman’s body, her wild coiling back and brittle hair had many trestles of intricate cactus spine adornments. It somehow appeared to move of its own
will, regardless to the lurching steps of its host.
“There, there, my children,” she said while singing psychically. “Mother is here.”
The dark skinned girls both called mentally back to her, crying for attention like normal babies. Their mental songs were unfocused-merely cries for care, a
primal instinct that sounded and felt more like a demand for food.
It didn’t matter, since the twins were now almost 3 weeks out of the womb, and growing fast like their older brother Jax. She smiled knowing they could
instinctively hunt and feed themselves. Mother knelt down, and pulled both children to her breasts. They became more docile, but a twinge of aggression lingered on their faces.
Quiet as rats, a quartet of newly self-appointed courtesans stepped into the suite.
They imaged almost the same as the last, now murdered, quartet of background singers. Unlike the ‘Wailing Women’ Mother had killed during the ecstasy of her last
physical transformation, these new ladies appeared free any external mental influences.
Each woman appeared to be of the well fed cultist elite, with firmer, cannibalistic fattened flesh. Their faces were round and deeply burned, as if they had been
staring at the sun. The 3 oldest of the 4 were clothed in blue maid uniforms, with skirts trimmed in dark gray. The slightly blood-stained material hung loosely, much like their long
dark-haired, matching cactus-needle-adorned ponytails.
The youngest, in her jail-issued, tattered orange jumpsuit began meekly. “My Queen.”
Then, reaching for the nearest child, “They are so beautiful. May I-”
Mother’s striking hand silenced the follower in mid-sentence.
Stumbling to regain her balance, the young black girl reacted with looks of ‘Anger’ and ‘Fear’ dancing across her now bloody, split-lipped face.
“My Queen?” she started again, but Mother pounced with the speed of a tiger.
The attack was vicious. She lifted the smaller woman, and tossed her malnourished body aside, like it was a used tissue. It landed with a loud THUNK and a
A line of blood spurted across the sand, and dripped from her right arm, as Mother ripped it free from the victim’s torso.
Not finished, she bent over the struggling, shocked figure and plunged both hands down to eviscerate the dying disciple. More blood and guts pooled about
grotesquely until the body was almost severed in half.
The Twins immediately began the scream physically and psionically. The piercing mental noise caused the remaining trio of Courtesans to cringe. Mother’s
attack slowed and subsided to a show of heavy breathing.
Then, as a Twin started crawling towards the corpse, Mother smiled with a grunt of approval.
The Courtesans busied themselves by presenting their Queen with a newly created gown. It was made from the remains of fashionable wedding dresses, and a dark
crimson curtain taken from an adjoining Resort suite.
Mother offered no resistance as they draped the thick fabric over her naked, blood smeared flesh. The loose fit had the overall appearance of a Japanese kimono,
made by a blind seamstress for a hellish monster.
The younger Twin had crawled atop the freshly killed corpse, and was swallowing ripped bits of flesh before Mother was fully dressed. The elder Twin had remained
in the shallow pit of a crib.
She didn’t squirm or call out like her sister. Instead, the newborn kept all her attention linked to her mother, following every move. Her small dark eyes
seemed to express a devious glint from above her thrusting jaw and clicking teeth.
Her mother bent down, raised the child quickly, and the offspring reached out with a new mental Song.
“Yes, my child, I love you. I will always be with you, no matter where you are.”
“You two,” she commanded the nearest Courtesans, and indicated the still chewing Twin. “You watch her. And feed her well.”
Then after a lunge at the last of the trio, “You will follow me. We go to greet these men who wish to take my child.”
“Yes, my Queen,” the disciple replied in a droopy monotone.
<>40<> Mother looked different.
The Throne Room rumbled with the cult crowd’s calls of anticipation as the Yellow Hand marching band made their approach. The main theater had a semi-collapsed
south wall which allowed a glare of dour moonlight to penetrate inside the fire-pit lit chamber.
The wide, broken, inverted V-shaped gap, also offered access to the debris filled Olympic-size pool, a view of the dusty, grime-streaked triad limousine, and the crowd
of starving cultists gathered around it.
Leading the band was underboss Chan Xais, and his female Vulture, Mei Liun. He was faking a proud look; she was not. His dark green, grime-stained business
suit and tie were a match to her bright red, slightly soiled and shredded silk dress, still showing her sleek and sexy wide-hip curves.
A muffled conversation between them continued as they stalked cautiously deeper into the man-made cave.
A scattering of medium sized fires burned close to the high arching walls. The flickering flames countered the dark presence of nearly 100 devoted
disciples. Most of whom knelt, or rolled on the ground, as the rest just stumbled about in slow tight circles.
The combined mass of decrepitude gave voice to an eerie Soundtrack. The overall volume of which, crested up and down like the breath of a monster.
The pair of triad leaders angled for the elevated stage. Xais approached 1st, and gave a complex hand signal. The other
female Birds immediately followed Mei Liun down into a kneeling position. Each of the henchmen Snakes, including Mahn, froze in place, like pieces on a chess board. They bowed deep from
the waist, and held the position of looking at their toes.
A mixed dozen of cactus-torch brandishing dancers twirled into the chamber. The filthy men and women screeched and screamed
excitedly. The kneeling and stumbling believers around the room, appearing to be choreographed by an unseen force, and dramatically calmed down in both volume and activity
Slowly the 8 street soldiers of Uncle Ueo trudged inside, pushing the washing machine sized dull metal box to the front of their formation. The cultist crowd
began to pull back into a crescent shape, and to moan in unison. It sounded awkward for the first few breaths, but they soon found the same tune.
It was a mental Song from the approaching apparition, draped in a rusted red color kimono, and holding an infant that influenced their minds. Her unexpected new
clothes made the underboss’s skin crawl.
Xais began to wonder why an amorphous crimson shadow seemed to smear the inside of the theater completely. It acted like a dimmer switch on all the fire pits and
the dancer’s torch-dripped embers.
Images from his earlier restless dream in the lounge competed with the current reality. He fought his fear that it was a living thing, the Alien darkness from the
dream. Xais was now more convinced that this was what his most trusted henchman, Mahn, had warned him about.
The underboss scanned the chamber, but could not find Jax the Firstborn of Mother. He started to ask Mahn, but suddenly the cult voices rose into a tumultuous
uproar. They finished on a rush of almost intolerable shrieking, so unsettling and appalling within its excessive scale, it left all who could hear stunned in a mixture of frozen
When Mother, now draped in the nightmare kimono, strolled onto the chess board layout of the theater stage; the kinetic cultists, the smooth Snakes, the breathtaking
Birds, and the twitchy street soldiers, the shrieking suddenly stopped.
Not the faintest sound could be heard. Xais looked around, amazed, and began to believe himself deaf just as if the enveloping darkness had struck him
blind. ‘Fear’ unloaded quavering remnants of his drunken dream all over again.
“Hell of a thing, yeah, brah?” the sharp voice of Jax practically whispered from the shoulder of the underboss.
Xais uncontrollably shuddered and turned to face the young man standing beside him. The Firstborn was dressed in the same costume as before, but now the wild
colored Guayabera shirt from Club Uzi was buttoned, and his hair was combed back straight. But the dapper Mafioso look didn’t dilute the deadly edge of his wide-mouthed grin.
His hand slapped Xais’s back, “Come.”
Mahn tensed, but the underboss hand-signaled no.
“Come on, brah. I will introduce you to Mother,” Jax added with a feral smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
The pair advanced towards queen’s pawn position 1, and awaited for her reaction.
The Chinese man was beyond nervous, he was totally terrified, and not just for himself, but for the whole Yellow Hand triad family. Mei Liun squinted at their
passing, and offered a sympathetic smile.
The light inside the Throne Room seemed to shift into a brighter tint, and the temperature felt cooler, but smelled 3 times worse.
The Firstborn and the underboss threaded through Uncle Ueo’s street toughs. Each man stood still and straight in earth tone suits below a wrap of black body
armor, that was draped over their wide shoulders like a Mexican serape. Their bald heads glistened with sweat above bright yellow silk headbands.
“Looking good guys,” Xais quipped as he neared the last pair.
The muscle bound Chinese men stood behind the large gray metal box, which was topped with a large pair of ornate solid brass padlocks. They didn’t smile, but
their faces did twitch.
“So, brah, what’s in the box?”
“Um, Jax, I’m not sure,” Xais answered after a quick cough, and an awkward smile. “But it is a wedding present. So it can’t be that
“A wedding present? Well, Mother will decide that.”
“Yeah, of course she will,” the underboss offered with false bravado.
“And speaking of,” Jax said kneeling. Xais immediately followed the move, but risked a glace up at the imposing woman. She looked different from their
short summit at poolside, after the limo had arrived.
Her hair was about the same, dark blue-black, dusted with debris and cactus-needles. But it now hung behind her wide, bony-looking shoulders, and cascaded away
from the suggestively oblong head, which was more the shape of a football than a human skull. The thick tangled strands snaked half-way down her significantly more curved back.
The rough Kimono-styled clothing was obviously curtain material with layers of off-white wedding dresses sewn across it. The weird style helped to hide the
outline of her non-human bird-like posture of backwards bending knees.
Underboss Xais only noted those details peripherally. His eyes were on the arms that held the naked child across her chest. They appeared longer than
normal, and ended in bony hands of long, wide fingers and dark, talon-shaped nails.
“My son,” Mother’s voice hissed loudly across the near silence of the room. “Where have you been?”
Relief washed across Xais, once he realized she was more interested in his future brother-in-law than him.
“I called for you, but you did not return.”
“I’m sorry Mother,” the Firstborn began after a hard swallow. “I was attending to a difficult believer.”
She slid a square closer to the pair. “Oh yes, I know the one. What happened to him?”
The words didn’t sound like a question to Xais.
“He is close by. I have some men looking for him.”
The Chinaman noted a slight nervous jerk with Jax’s response. “He will be found and brought to you. I promise. He could-”
“No matter,” she interrupted. “He will come to me soon enough.”
Taking another step closer, Mother held out the naked infant girl towards Xais. “As I said, one on my daughters shall be yours.”
The underboss had been preparing for this moment, but he still wasn’t ready when the child was thrust into his waiting arms. The little monster squirmed and
wiggled in his uncomfortable embrace.
“My God,” he finally managed. “She is beautiful.”
Xais started to add something else, but a quick move by Mother halted his words. The way she approached the steel box was hypnotic and creepy, like how vampires were
depicted in history.
The movement was slow and hesitant as her mind tried to feel what was inside. Her face twisted with a frustrated scowl, but when her hands caressed the large
brass padlocks, her look changed to a more neutral smile, albeit cruel and sinister around the edges.
“I thought it best,” the underboss started, his voice cracking just a little. “To have a little something for you as well.”
The child felt heavy in his arms, but he refused to let it show.
“Like I said, Mother,” the voice of the Jax boomed. “He will be a good brother to us.”
Jax played with his sister’s grasping hand. “He called it a wedding present.”
The way he said it showed how ignorant Jax really was. Mother stepped back, and glared at the underboss. “Open it.”
Xais nodded towards Ueo’s street soldiers closest to the box. While they began to unfasten the heavy locks, Mei Liun stepped hesitantly forward to look closer at
the child in her lover’s arms.
A slow murmur began to roll across the crowd of cultists. Unknowingly they had responded to Mother’s mental acuity. Many of the flanking ranks and files
fidgeted and barked excited chirps when the Ueo’s men began to unfold the metal box. The panels were several inches thick and unhinged after following an escaping hiss of pressurized
Mei Liun was the first to speak. “What in God’s name?”
The street soldiers were quick to back away, and cringe behind the last side panels. The men’s surprised looks told Xais they also had no idea of what they had
been shepherding through the waves of cultists.
The Yellow Hand Snakes remained impassive professional henchmen, unlike the remaining triad Birds, who had collectively gasped and fought for self-control.
The underboss tried to present a neutral expression as he faced Mother with a deep respectful bow. He knew exactly what was at risk now, and it was as his
henchman Mahn had warned. What was before them, was possibly the end of the world, and he was one of the architects.
“For you,” Xais started without his voice cracking. “A life for a life.”
“Hell’a impressive gift, brah,” he heard as the hand of Jax gripped his shoulder tightly. “We are going to be close friends.”
Xais wanted to respond with something profound, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Mother. He barely noticed when Mei Liun took the Twin girl from his
Less than 3 squares away, the open mental box displayed an Alien egg the size of a fat man’s torso. The large oval appeared solid, like concrete, yet something
bulged from inside, like the unborn in a womb. The multi-gray texture was split at the top like a flower, but a thick brass band was clamped tight, preventing the petals from opening.
Mother reached out and caressed it with both hands, her head rolled back, and a single high toned cry burst out into the cavern like room.
A chorus of cultists immediately tried to copy the sound, but together their voices showed only a fierce attitude of impending hostility. The torch wielding
fanatics began wild and violent throws that added an imputed impression of sorrow to the scene.
As the crowd and their Queen enjoyed the moment, the increasingly nervous underboss took a step back, and searched the chamber for his loyal henchman,
Jax was being led from the stage by a large, upset-looking Polynesian Enforcer. The Snakes and twittering Birds were still holding position, Ueo’s gang had
clumped together, but his trusted advisor was no were to be seen.
“What the hell have I gotten us into?” he asked no one precisely.
Mei Liun nuzzling the infant girl, answered. “The future, my love. You have secured the future of us all.”
“No, not for all.”
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