A Boy Named Oskar:
(1925 A.D., The Draig Estate, The Township of Resdren, Nornland, Scotland, The Reich of Greater Germania)
The overcast sky hangs thick with dull rain clouds that weep their chilling tears upon the land, soaking the world below. The sound of many ravens singing their sullen song fills the air as a svelte young boy with golden pixie-cut hair sits aloft in his room, looking out over his family's estate. Oskar watches with dreadful apprehension as the family carriage makes its way up the front carriageway, coming to a stop just outside the entryway. It is then that a silvery-haired old man dressed in a black butlering uniform and gold-rimmed spectacles barges into the young noble's room.
"Oh, Young Master, even a petulant brat like you could try being ready on time. I mean, I did already have your clothes laid out for you by the bed, after all," scolds the old butler coldly as he grabs the youth by the back of the neck and shoves him toward the end table by the bed.
"Sorry, sir," responds Oskar, scrambling to put on his clothes for the day.
"Hurry up, now. Your mother sent me to retrieve you. Your new Childminder has arrived from London. She wishes for you to come down and greet him like a good boy," presses Rufus as Oskar slides on his black leggings and emerald-green silk knee-shorts.
"And lucky me with him here. It means I can retire back to Edinburgh and you get to be someone else's problem," Rufus muses pointedly to Oskar as he finishes getting dressed.
"Walk normally, you bufter. Just because you look like a batty boy doesn't mean you need to walk like one," jeers Rufus as he jabs Oskar hard in the buttocks with his cane, sending an abrupt surge of pain through the lad's backside. Oskar grits his teeth but dares not cry. He knows what will happen if he cries. Only girls and bum-boys cry.
"Come on, hurry up. I want to get this over with and be on the train back to Edinburgh, enjoying my retirement by nightfall. I hear the Germans have done wonders for the city since taking over," presses Rufus, opening the bedroom door and gesturing for the boy to accompany him downstairs.
Oskar takes a deep breath and proceeds down the stairs with Rufus right behind.
Everyone is already gathered at the open front door as Rufus and the young master approach the welcoming party. The maids suddenly scurry away from the door to go about some newly assigned work.
"Ugh, here comes the worthless little waste of my eggs now," snarls Mrs. Draig with a tone of absolute revulsion upon seeing Rufus approaching with her son. With the maids out of the way, Oskar can see the elegant young man that is standing outside the door talking to his mother. Oskar's trodden heart offers a strange flutter as his eyes fall upon the handsome slender man who is to be his new Childminder. The man has silky dark-brown hair with lush healthy-looking skin.
Stop It… I'm not a damned bufter, thinks Oskar, scolding himself as he comes to a stop next to his mother. The boy takes note of the man's attire. The man wears a well-fitted grey suit with a dapper sky-blue waistcoat.
"Hello, you must be John Darling. I'm Rufus; Mrs. Draig's Personal Attendant," Rufus proclaims warmly as he reaches out his hand to shake John's. Oskar watches as John politely shakes Rufus's hand.
"Nice to meet you," replies John, smiling cordially.
"Come on now, Oskar, say hello to your new Childminder," demands Rufus as he squeezes Oskar's shoulder, sending waves of pain down his shoulder and arm.
Eager for the pain to stop, Oskar steps forward and presents himself to John with faux politeness. Oskar bows low for a moment, still shaking from the pain in his shoulder. One more bruise among the hundreds before, a final parting gift from Rufus. Oskar can feel John's eyes surveying him, pricking his heart with a subtle fear of uncertainty and a sinful excitement.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Oskar. I look forward to getting to know you very much," continues John, kneeling down to meet Oskar at his level. Oskar yanks his hand away in uneasy trepidation as John tries to take the boy's hand in his. Oskar sees a strange shine of emotion in John's eyes, an emotion he does not know how to decipher. What is that shine? Can I trust it? Can I trust him? What manner of man is this?
"Stop that, Oskar, you mustn't be so rude," demands Rufus, striking Oskar hard in the buttocks once again with his cane, causing subtle tears of pain to well up in Oskar's eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," replies Oskar meekly, reaching out his hand for John to shake as he turns his head to avoid John's gaze. The feeling of the man's eyes upon him brings a warm flush to the lad's cheeks and a suppressed quiver to his lips. The young master sideways watches with nervous fixation as John slowly leans in and places a soft, gentlemanly peck upon his hand. Oskar, surprised at the unexpected and abnormal affection, feels the brief presence of a secret-smile swell up inside him, a smile he dares not show.
"I assume your trip was a pleasant one," chimes in Rufus as he takes John's coat.
"Yes, after all, a good book makes a truly fine travel companion on a long journey and I brought several," answers John.
"Well, I better get this luggage up to your room forthwith," pipes up Crowler, who politely makes his way to the stairs with John's luggage.
"Dinner is about to be served," Tilda declares as she re-approaches the group and gestures them to the dining room.
"Marvellous, I'm famished," John feigns weakness, throwing his arm over his head in a mock faint.
This man is so strange, thinks Oskar. It is almost enough to make him giggle, almost.
John shoots Oskar an amused smirk, gesturing for the boy to take his hand. Oskar takes John's hand, allowing the new Childminder to escort him to his chair at the dining room table. John proceeds to pull out Oskar's chair for him before taking a seat in the chair next to him at the table.
"So tell me, Oskar, what do you do around here for fun?" John asks, smiling at Oskar while raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Not much unless you get your thrills watching the sheep," answers Oskar, his tone drenched in melancholy. Like he really cares what I enjoy.
Tilda and Hilda move around the table with a silver cart adorning the table with delicious dishes and fine delicacies as Miss Emma goes around the table filling everyone's glass with either wine, scotch or brandy for the adults and juice for Oskar.
"And for you, monsieur?" asks Emma, coming to John's glass. Her French accent is sweet music to John's ear.
"Scotch, if you please." John's gaze cannot help but be momentarily drawn to Emma's finely displayed cleavage as she leans in close to fill his cup. She is so close he can feel the gentle heat radiating from her perfect bosom and smell the alluring scent of honey and cinnamon wafting from her exposed, supple flesh.
"Come now, there must be something you enjoy," John continues, turning his attention back to his new young master in a friendly yet prodding manner.
"Well, I do enjoy some good horseback riding now and again," replies Oskar, hanging his head as he pokes his food.
"Ah, a fellow equestrian, wonderful. We should go for a ride tomorrow before our morning studies. It will give you a chance to show me around this fine estate of yours," John replies, jovially taking a drink from his scotch.
"Well... I suppose I could," Oskar mutters, casting John a hidden smile.
"Great, I look forward to it."
Rufus leans over and whispers something inaudible into Mrs. Draig's ear. Mrs. Draig climbs to her feet and gently clangs her glass with her fork three times.
"Attention all. We've come to the point in the evening when we must bid a fond farewell to a kind and loyal man who has been a great blessing to this family." She gestures for Rufus to stand and be honoured. "You will be sorely missed," proclaims Mrs. Draig, graciously leading everyone in a round of applause.
Out with one Childminder and in with another.
It does not go unnoticed by John that only Tilda, Hilda and Mrs. Draig seem sincere in this forced display of affection, whereas Oskar and Emma seem almost like hostages coerced into a demonstration. It is abundantly clear to John almost immediately that Rufus has been nothing more than a consistent tormenter of Oskar, but why does Emma despise him? Did his torment extend to her as well?
"Come, I will see you out," continues Mrs. Draig, taking Rufus's arm in hers and walking towards the front door.
Oskar fiddles with the buttons of his black waistcoat.
"So how old are you, Oskar?" John asks, taking a bite of the magnificent meal placed before him.
"I'm twelve, sir, but I will be thirteen in three months," replies Oskar, continuing to prod at his food to avoid looking at John.
"And what of you, sir?" asks Oskar timidly.
"I am twenty-five, but I try to stay young at heart," muses John in response.
The sound of the front door closing reverberates around the house as Mrs. Draig returns to the dining room. However, as she reenters the room, she is abruptly stricken by a rather nasty coughing fit. The nearby Tilda quickly moves into action, helping Mrs. Draig back to her seat at the table. Once she is seated, Emma moves a cup of water to Mrs. Draig's lips. After a moment or two, the coughing passes, leaving Mrs. Draig more than a little shaky.
"So John, tell us about yourself," says Mrs. Draig, rejoining the conversation. Her tone is more suspicious than curious, her voice still weak from the coughing fit.
"Well, I am not sure what more I can tell you other than what is in my file. I grew up in London. My parents died in an accident when I was fourteen, leaving just me, my younger brother and my older sister. My academic career and training are mapped out pretty thoroughly in the background information I supplied to you," replies John, puzzled by an odd look in her eye.
"Yes, I remember that being in your file. How horribly tragic for you and your siblings. Well, perhaps you can tell us why you chose to become a Childminder?" asks Mrs. Draig with a grin of mock pleasantry.
John leans back in his chair, thinking for a moment.
"To be honest, I became a Childminder because I love children. I mean, I was always helping my mother and sister raise my little brother. My father was a busy man, you see. I also like that the job grants me opportunities to see new places. I suppose the final reason is I have always been good with kids so it just seemed like a natural occupation for me to get into" John answers confidently.
"And what of this fine lad? Is there anything I should know about our dear Oskar here?" counters John cheerfully.
"Other than the fact I should have tossed the little dandy into the sea the moment he was born, there is really nothing to tell. The runt's dense as a rock and twice as useless," rambles Mrs. Draig coldly as her son winces, squirming in his seat.
No crying, Oskar. she's right, you're nothing, you're an unlovable waste.
"Really, well, he seems like a very bright boy to me," replies John, momentarily leaning in and jostling Oskar's hair supportively.
Why is he saying that? What does he mean? She's right, I am useless.
"Yes, well, we just hope you can fix him, but then again, when do miracles ever happen?" continues Mrs. Draig.
Just one more turn of the dagger, like always, thinks Oskar, his heart sinking further. The next five minutes or so pass by in awkward silence as everyone finishes their dinner.
"I've finished eating. May I please be excused?" Oskar asks meekly.
"Fine, whatever. Have John take you upstairs and give you a bath. Your stench offends me. After your bath, have him tuck you in. It's nearly your bedtime," answers Mrs. Draig.
Oskar looks at John for a moment as a subtle seed of fear plants itself within him. John stands up from the table, offering a nod of acknowledgement to Mrs. Draig before proceeding to take Oskar's hand and walk with him towards the stairs.
"I assume you can guide me to the bathroom where you normally wash up," John comments, smiling down at Oskar as they make their way up the stairs. John feels a slight shiver move through Oskar's body in response to his words.
He's not Rufus. He's not Rufus. Maybe it will be okay? Maybe he won't…
"Umm yeah, it's this way," replies Oskar, guiding John through the main upstairs hall towards the west wing of the manor. To John, the magnificent ornate adornments and overall interior decor of the estate, while truly elegant, seem contaminated with a lurking sense of ominous foreboding. John feels Oskar's hand becoming ever more shaky and sweaty in his as they draw closer to their destination. Oskar suddenly stops dead in his tracks for a moment as they round a corner in the hall. For a moment, he just stares at the black and white door located directly ahead of them.
"You okay, Oskar?" asks John softly. Oskar nods slightly and continues leading John towards the black and white door.
I don't want to go. Not in there, not with him.
Oskar reaches out for the door-knob but hesitates just short of it. John can sense the boy's uneasiness. He opens the door for the young boy.
Calm down. Maybe it's okay, maybe he is different.
Oskar stands transfixed, staring into the dark room as John proceeds to feel around the wall by the door in search of the light switch.
Don't run away. Don't run away. It's going to be okay.
After a moment of searching, John finds the switch and turns on the lights.
"This is quite a wonderful bathroom you have here," John remarks, taking in the polished granite walls and the splendid black and white checkerboard tile floor.
"These are fancy," John continues, surveying the shining silver faucets of the bathtub and sink. The bathtub stands elevated by two golden dragon claws jutting out from the silver body at each end. John turns his eye back to Oskar, finding him standing zoned-out in thought just outside the door.
Breathe... Breathe... Breathe, thinks Oskar, trying to maintain whatever composure he has left.
In that moment, the sneaking suspicions John had about Rufus's treatment of Oskar takes on a whole other dimension and his heart sinks. John slowly approaches the boy and grabs him gently by the hand, leading him through the door of the bathroom and shutting it quietly behind him.
"I'm going to turn on the water. Is that okay?" John asks, gesturing towards the silver bathtub. Oskar nods as the older man moves slowly but surely towards the bathtub and pulls back the transparent crimson shower curtain. Oskar's body trembles even worse as he hesitantly removes his waistcoat and pristine white blouse, leaving his pale, gracile upper-body exposed… vulnerable.
What if he is? What if he tries to... What if he does?
John turns on the faucets, adjusting them to the desired temperature of water.
"It's okay. Do you hear me, Oskar?" presses John cautiously, kneeling down in front of his new master.
Oskar's hands tremble violently, ghosting over the button of his shorts.
"How about I step outside the door and you can call out to me once you are in the water?" suggests John as he stands up and turns to make his way towards the door.
Wait. No… worse things. Not alone, not here. Not with them.
"No. Don't leave," pleads Oskar, reaching out and grabbing John firmly by the wrist. "Please." John's heart sheds a tear for the troubled youngster as he nods and kneels back down in front of Oskar.
"May I? If it helps," asks John, slowly moving his hands towards the button of Oskar's shorts.
Oskar nods, his eyes clenched shut as John undoes the button of Oskar's shorts, lowering them to the floor.
He is wearing women's underwear. Never mind. Worry about that later. John places his hands on the sides of the lad's underwear and pauses, giving a moment for Oskar to ready himself. The boy breathes in deep as John lowers his underwear to the floor. The reason for the child's fear is abundantly obvious as John spots dozens of yellowish vestiges from recent bruising concentrated around Oskar's lower abdomen and the base of his member.
He can see it. I'm exposed, disgusting, shameful. Hide. Have to hide.
John picks up the shivering boy by the waist and places him on the edge of the bathtub before proceeding to remove Oskar's leggings. John lowers the trembling young lad into the warm waters of the tub.
"Don't be afraid, Oskar," whispers John as he reaches for the Canthrox Shampoo and delicately works it into little Oskar's hair. He lets his fingers gently massage the boy's scalp.
This isn't so bad. Maybe he is different, maybe. Oskar leans his head back ever so slightly into John's soothing touch, exhaling softly. His eyes close and his guard slips.
"Are you ready?" asks John, picking up the nearby rinsing cup and washing the shampoo from his master's hair.
This is nice, this feels good.
"I know you're scared, and I know why. I can see the marks still healing. He used to hurt you, didn't he? Bathtime for you has always meant pain," John comments, his tone steady.
Oskar jerks away from John, standing up in the tub.
He did see. He knows, what now? My fault, my fault.
"It's okay, Oskar." John continues, stepping back from Oskar, his hands open and visible.
Oskar stumbles backward out of the tub, scrambling on all fours towards the far corner of the room. As he crawls away, John can see that the yellow remnants of bruising are equally present around the boy's lower back and buttocks. However, potentially even more concerning; there is a strange mark on the lad's perineum. John takes a mental note to check it when possible.
"I didn't mean to frighten you, Oskar, but it's not your fault. Whatever he did, it's not your fault. Even if he said it was." John walks glacially toward Oskar, lowering his stance as he goes, "I know you have no reason to believe me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I will never hurt you" John promises as he comes to a stop just short of the boy's position. Oskar watches the man's slow approach.
He's coming. What if he's lying? What if it's a trap? John gets down on his knees, gesturing for Oskar to come to him.
"You remember his eyes, right? Eyes are the window to the soul. So look at mine. Look into my eyes. Do you see him? Do you see danger? Evil?" presses John slowly as he moves his hands non-threateningly to his sides, palms down.
"Go ahead. Look?"
Oskar peers deep into John's eyes.
"It's alright. There's more than just monsters in this world. There are good people too, people like me, like Emma and like you," whispers John. Oskar turns around and slides slowly backward into John's embrace. John pulls the child in close to him, wrapping his arms warmly around him.
"I will never hurt you, Oskar," John whispers as the boy in his arms at last lets it all out. The deluge of pent-up emotions from years of abuse and shame pour out as Oskar's cries give way to violet sobbing. What's happening to me? Why can't I stop? Why is he so warm?
"Let it out… just let it out," coos John, tenderly rocking the crumbling youth back and forth in his arms. Minutes pass as John continues to cradle Oskar.
"I'm not a girl… I am not a girl," whimpers Oskar.
"I know. It's not your fault," responds John gently into Oskar's ear.
"How about we declare this bath finished for now and get you tucked into bed? Tomorrow morning we'll go ride horses together," suggests John, reaching for a nearby towel. John carefully dries Oskar's hair and shoulders. The boy nods and stands up so that the kneeling John can dry off the rest of him. John finishes drying the boy and decides to see if Oskar will let him get a better look at that strange mark.
"Oskar, look at me," requests John, placing his hands firmly on Oskar's shoulders. "I need you to trust me for a moment. I am going to touch you very carefully because I need to check something, okay?" Oskar nods, staring once more into John's eyes. The Childminder picks up his young master and places him down on the bathroom counter. John squats so that he is at eye-level with Oskar's nether regions as he gestures for Oskar to spread his legs a little so that he can get a better view. John delicately lifts Oskar's member and scrotum in order to analyse the strange mark on the boy's perineum. The clear and concise symbol etched into the boy's flesh is unlike anything that John has ever seen.
He's touching me. It feels... No, not now. Please, not now.
"Did you know you have a mark here?" asks John.
The boy shakes his head 'no', his eyes closed tight as he tries desperately to suppress what he feels building inside him.
"Oskar… Oskar." The lad opens his eyes to look at John. "stop worrying about getting an erection. Erections happen. It's no big deal, but I need you to help me out here. Hold your package up so I can sketch this mark, okay?" John continues. Oskar nods, embarrassed, and cups his genitals to keep them out of the way. John pulls a small notepad out of his waistcoat pocket along with a small pencil and begins to sketch the mark. The process takes about ten minutes, after which John is left with a flustered boy and a confusing sketch of four interlocked Hexagons surrounding a small, unknown symbol. John signs deeply, then laughs, accepting his fate.
"Don't laugh at me," Oskar replies indignantly, closing his legs in an effort to conceal his privates.
"I'm sorry. I am not laughing at you. I guess no one escapes fate, no matter where they run," John muses, standing up and placing the notepad and pencil back into his waistcoat pocket. No matter how I try to get away, it always finds me.
"What does that mean?" asks Oskar, bewildered.
"Nothing, nothing at all. How about we go get you tucked in," John suggests, wrapping Oskar up in the nearby towel before scooping him up and carrying him bridal style out of the bathroom.
John sees Emma a little ways down the hall and gestures for her to tend to the mess in the bathroom. She nods, smiling warmly at the precious sight before her. Il tient le jeune master like un baby [He holds the young master like a baby] thinks Emma as she takes in the sight of the two of them before proceeding past them and into the bathroom.
"Which door is your room? And if it's visible from here, which door leads to mine?" asks John.
"That one is mine and that one just opposite is yours," answers Oskar, pointing at each of the two doors, respectively.
"Jolly good," responds John, shifting Oskar in his arms and using his newly freed hand to open the door to the boy's room. Once inside the room, he sets Oskar down and shuts the bedroom door behind them.
"Now, how do you normally sleep? Am I supposed to get you some nightwear or do you sleep in the nude?" John asks, causing Oskar to look away. John nods understandingly.
"So that's another choice he used to make for you. Well, I'm not him and he is gone. So what do you want?" presses John firmly. Oskar sways back and forth for a moment, thinking. His golden hair and pale skin shimmer in silvery moonlight shining in through the bedroom window. This boy better get used to making more decisions for himself now that I am here instead of that sadist.
"I think I would like to try nightwear, but I do not know what Rufus did with all of it. He always preferred me without it," answers Oskar timidly.
"I have an idea. I will return momentarily," responds John, stepping out of the room and returning a minute or so later.
"Now to me, this is just a button-up shirt. However, given your much smaller size, it should easily act as more of a gown. Is it alright?" asks John with an amused chuckle. Oskar nods and lets his towel fall.
"Oskar, who knows you have been abused other than me?" continues John, helping the naked boy into his much larger adult button-up shirt and buttoning it for him. Oskar chews on the tips of his fingernails, not answering.
"Do Tilda and Hilda know?" Oskar nods.
"What about Emma?" presses John.
"Yeah, but she…"
"Actually cares, but could not do anything while he was here, right?" replies John with a sigh, as Oskar nods his head in confirmation. So that's why she was happy to see him go.
"And what of your mother?" continues John, already certain he knows the answer.
"She… She did not care as long as he did not make a mess," murmurs Oskar weakly. Poor Oskar. What hell is wrong with that woman, keep him talking, get details and write them down for later. Documentation. Anything could be important if the time comes.
"Did you tell her, or did she see for herself?"
"Back when he first arrived, she caught him in my room one night, touching me. I saw her in the doorway. I reached out for her to help, but she just watched, smiling, and then shut the door. That was the first time I ever saw her smile. She has never looked at me the way you do. No one has except Emma." Tears burn the back of Oskar's eyes.
"You said he was touching you. How do you mean? With hands?" presses John delicately. Oskar shakes his head in the negative.
"Okay, then point to what he used. Can you do that for me?" Oskar nods and points to his mouth.
"I see. It's okay, Oskar. You did nothing wrong, nothing, but I need to continue with a few more questions, okay?" John walks Oskar over to the bed and helps him climb into bed.
"Where exactly on your body did he touch you with his mouth?"
Oskar points to his private area.
"You're doing very good, Oskar, we're almost done. How old were you when this happened? You said it was when he first arrived, but…"
"Seven, I had just turned Seven. It was my birthday," answers Oskar.
"He said it was his present to me. I didn't want it. I told him I didn't want it, but he didn't listen." Tiny tears stream from the boy's verdant green eyes.
"Thank you, Oskar, thank you for telling me. It's all over. Things are going to be different now."
"Promise?" mutters Oskar. No one can protect me. Not against them.What if he gets hurt or worse? I'm not worth it, am I?
"Yeah, I promise. You and Emma are not alone in this anymore. I am here, and I'll protect you both. Now I know this is going to be hard for you, but I need you to try and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning," John replies, leaning in and hugging Oskar before tucking him more snuggly into the bed. John kisses Oskar tenderly on the head before turning and making his way out of the room. Sleep well, Oskar. Now that I am here, things are going to change. I swear it. I won't fail again.
John quietly closes the door and proceeds back towards the bathroom to find Emma. John slowly pushes open the door of the bathroom to find Emma down on all fours, sopping up the water from John's bathtime commotion with Oskar.
She really is stunning and that ass ain't for the faint of heart, thinks John, admiring her sleek feminine physique. John clears his throat, signalling his presence to Emma as he steps in and shuts the bathroom door behind him.
"Monsieur, may I be of service?" asks Emma, sitting back on her heels and looking at John. Quel bel man [What a beautiful man] thinks Emma as she subtly scans John with her eyes. John walks over and leans against the bathroom counter.
"Oskar told me what Rufus has been doing to him, or at least some of it. At some point, I will need to ask you about these matters for my documentation. I know you did not approve of what was happening, but felt that there was nothing you could do, right?" Emma nods, not meeting John's gaze.
"I wish I could have done more. I should have done more," cries Emma between whimpers and tears. J'aurais dû killed him mais alors quoi? Je suis venu pour mettre killing derrière me [I should have killed him, but then what?I came here to put killing behind me].
"If it makes you feel better, he does not blame you for not helping and neither do I. I can't imagine what it was like for you, knowing what was happening and feeling powerless to help, but you are not alone anymore. I am here for him and for you and I want things to be better for you both." Et noble aussi [And noble too] thinks Emma.
"When shall I answer your questions, Monsieur?"Emma asks, climbing to her feet and tossing the towel and Oskar's wet clothes into a nearby bin.
"How about tomorrow night after everyone is asleep? I already have a lot to write down tonight just from what information Oskar gave me," John answers, rubbing his forehead for a moment before nodding to Emma as he makes his way over to the door.
"Sweet dreams, Monsieur," Emma remarks as John opens the door. S'il y en a à avoir dans cet endroit [If there is any to have in this place].
"Sweet dreams, Emma," John replies as he makes his way out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
******
The amber light of the raging fire dances eerily off the polished red-marble walls of the darkened room, barely illuminating the mysterious forms of a small group of entities gathered around the central dining table that occupies the room's centre.
"Rufus has reported to his new post and will carry out his first assignment in three days as ordered," reports Murmur in a small, dull voice to the rest of the group. From the shadowed far corners of the room slithers a great blood-red serpent with deep black eyes. The serpent silently slithers its way towards the group, coming to a stop on top of the table near where the other entities are gathered. It morphs into the form of a petite boy with skin pale as snow and short black hair sitting cross-legged, examining the others. The boy is completely naked except for a dark-crimson wreath-style crown that rests snuggly upon his head. His eyes are like polished jet-black marble.
"The new Childminder is interesting. There is a mysterious spark I sense in him," Lucien hisses in his typical sultry manner as he glides his wet-forked tongue over his soft and full tar-black lips. A gushing stream of deep red blood weeps from out of the physical material of the ornate chair placed at the head of the table, the chair upon which the head of the family would normally sit. The heavy sanguine flow from the chair drenches the floor until suddenly the blood shifts and twists, writhing upward into the form of a lush, beautiful woman sitting in the chair, casually staring at the mysterious shadowed form sitting in the chair off to her left. The woman is pale and naked like the boy.
"That's wonderful news, Murmur. Rufus is a loyal follower. I believe he will do fine at his new post," Lilith declares with a maliciously sensual grin. "And as for the new Childminder, are you suggesting that he be considered a threat to us, my lewd little Lucien?" Lilith raises an eyebrow as she summons forth out of the table a full glass of red wine and calls it telekinetically to her hand.
Lucien trembles and shrugs, licking his lips thirstily once again.
"I do not know if he would qualify as a threat, but he does look absolutely delicious," answers Lucien.
"What say you on this matter, Leviathan? Would you consider him a threat?" asks Lilith, turning her gaze to the shadowed entity leaning against the wall off to her right. The creature has the basic form of a man but stands close to ten feet tall with a fearsome muscular build. The creature sports a terrifying set of great leathery bat-like wings and a long, thick razor-edged tail that ends in a deadly-looking spear-like point. The creature steps closer to her.
"Hardly, but we should at least give him some low-level testing to better understand what power lies at his disposal," Leviathan replies, his basso voice rumbling like an avalanche.
"Wise advice as always, dear brother," Lilith responds, taking a drink from her wine glass.
"You flatter me, dear sister," Leviathan answers with a subtle bow of respect to the blood-soaked naked woman.
"Very well, we will test him a little." Lilith takes a drink from her wine glass with a satisfied smile.
"Oh, please let me do it, please mommy," Lucien moans frantically to his mother his voice dripping with lustful excitement. He licks his lips again as if savouring something sweet before falling backward onto his back and writhing around on the table.
"Must you be so lewd?" asks Lilith, rubbing her head in frustration as Lucien runs his hands up and down his body from his nether regions to his mouth and then back again in a sinful cycle of wicked bliss. Tiny moans of pleasure sporadically escape his lips as he seems to become lost in himself and the thought of the new Childminder.
From out of the shadows off to the left of the table, crawls forth a sprawling hive-like mass of thousands of dull bronze-colored spiders that bend and weave into the form of a singular creature with the torso and arms of a muscular athletically-built woman with two large spider-like legs wrapping around the front of her chest from her each-side of her back. Her lower body is composed of a woman's nether regions but with a spider's abdomen instead of the buttocks of a human. She has two sets of legs like that of a well-toned woman, except for her lower legs from the knee down are like the long tips of a spider's legs.
"She said to test him, not blow him, you sorry little faggot," jeers the spider-like woman mockingly to the boy squirming with ecstasy on the table.
"Like you don't want to do the same, you wretched crone!" Lucien barks back at Asmodeus.
"Degenerate diseased catamite!" Asmodeus shrieks, growling menacingly at the naked boy as he lurches towards the edge of the table closest to her, hissing angrily in her face with his black oily forked-tongue. Suddenly a violent eruption of searing flame explodes forward from out of the nearby fireplace, morphing into the form of a tall handsome well-dressed and bespoke man with slicked-back blond hair and a sharp-black suit with a scarlet silk necktie.
"SILENCE!" shouts the man glaring at Lucien and Asmodeus angrily as he stretches forth one of his hands towards the spiderish woman, sending her flying backward hard into the wall behind her while stretching out his other hand to Lucien grabbing him by the throat in a vice-like telekinetic hold. Lucien spasms and strains desperately for air in the man's fierce psychic hold.
"Ugh… Yeah, harder ugh... Daddy ugh... More," Lucien pleads, smiling at Asmoday.
Asmoday releases his hold on his son's throat with a look of disgusted indignation before turning and making his way over to Lilith. The spider-like woman scrambles back up to her feet angrily.
"STAND DOWN, ASMODEUS! Before I put you down," barks the man with a tone of powerful authority. Asmoday's fearsome gaze causes the spiderish woman to cower, bowing low in submission to her dapper father.
"Welcome back, Asmoday. What news bring you?" asks Lilith gleefully to Asmoday as she takes yet another large drink from her seemingly always full wine glass. Asmoday walks casually over to his wife; Lilith, as he summons forth his own glass of red wine in his hand and drinks deep.
"The best of news! The Piper has made contact with Hook and the Red Queen, which means the Neverlands and Wonderland are now in play," answers Asmoday with a little hop, skip and spin as he makes his final approach coming to a stop right next to Lilith and his eldest son; Leviathan.
"Tell me about this new Childminder that has my son begging like a lusty whore," muses Asmoday cooly, swirling the wine in his glass.
"He's truly scrumptious, father. Please let me have him. Please… I'll do anything," Pleads the boy crawling from the table onto the floor in front of his father as he hungrily proceeds in attempting to undo Asmoday's pants.
"NO!" Lilith and Asmoday bellow in unison at Lucien as Asmoday brutally kicks his son away from him, sending the boy sliding across the floor into the elegant heavy wooden door behind him. The boy collides with the door with a hard wet thud before turning back into a snake and slithering away into the shadows.
"I have decided he is to be tested. After all, information is always a valuable thing to have," Lilith continues confidently.
"A wise precaution. You have one of us in mind for this little task?" Asmoday replies, smiling cooly as Lilith scans her current company contemplatively.
"Murmur, you will test him. I assume you concur with my decision?" declares Lilith.
"Absolutely, this is a perfect task for him," Asmoday answers full-heartedly before taking another sip of his wine.
"Well, now that everything has been decided. I think I will rest for a bit," Asmoday continues, yawning.
"Very well. Meeting adjourned, my children," proclaims Lilith, slamming her fist down hard on the table. Leviathan, Asmodeus and Murmur all offer brief but respectful bows to Lilith before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the room, leaving just her and Asmoday alone in the firelit dining hall. Asmoday strides over to the fireplace, leaning against it as he casts his gaze back to Lilith.
"It is truly wonderful to look upon you once again, my love," coos Asmoday to Lilith lovingly.
"Thank you. It's good to have you back as well. I missed you," Lilith responds with an appreciative nod of her head before taking another sip of her wine. Lilith rises from her chair and walks over to Asmoday. She wraps her arms tenderly around him as he places a gentle kiss on her head. They hold each other lovingly for a moment until Lilith slowly pulls away and turns, making her way out of the room, leaving Asmoday alone in the room to get reacquainted with his preferred native dwelling.