Episode 19: A Murder of Crones

Freya Blight was awoken from a sound sleep as her attic’s family mirror shattered unexpectedly. Hearing her raven Woden cawing out in distress she abruptly discarded her ages old quilt of respect and stepped her feet into her bunny slippers. Woodland made from real rabbits, head and all, whiskers twitching as if alive they were not exactly happy to be of service. Housecoat draped around herself, wearing a thin sheer nightie beneath, she shuffled to her ancient abodes staircase and hurried upstairs. Flashlight at the top awaiting she turned it on and discovered Woden flapping his wings frantically. Staring with his singular eye directly into the bone bound mirror it appeared as if it were punched at the center, its shards still attached but in a puzzle of infinite possibilities.

“Quiet, Woden! What has caused this?” She stepped closer to the large limb and rib framed mirror to see her reflection distorted by the splintering effect. “It appears as if it was shattered from within. Who could possibly have had the power to achieve such a ... oh, dear!” Within her mirror she squinted over and beyond the thousands of tiny links to see an unexpected guest. “The Raven child!”

Within each and every facet stood Raven Mourn cringing as if apologizing. “I knew the first day I set eyes on that girl she would be the death of us all.” With Raven’s vision departing Freya now saw her own image in each chip. The only thing was her images were that of her younger days. Each chunk of splintered reflection had a different pose of Freya. From beaches to mountains, to deserts. Bikini’s, parkas with nothing beneath, all sorts of erotic outfits. “She must know it was I in the taxicab that day at the Salem Towers when I was spying on her.” Freya Blight was a slick one.

“My second life as supermodel Rhea Light is now in jeopardy. Damn! I was looking forward to my photoshoot in Norway.” Her youthful images fading, she only spied upon her current persona. The less than appealing old crone Freya, she whom was a ripe old age of 94 in reality. While yes, she appealed to a 45-year-old version of herself to the everyday public to mask her true guise, she still preferred that hard body 23-year-old in her heart. Tired of seeing shards of her past lives she waved her hands over her mirror and reconstructed it. In doing so the blade of an Angel’s sword stabbed through at her. Decidedly spry she sidestepped its advance and watched it pull back into the mirror and vanish. “She manipulates Angels. Of course, she does ... HERetic!”

Woden still agitated as her back turned to the mirror frightened Freya into sensing a presence behind her. With eyes rolling she sighed heavily. “Please don’t let her visit my home.” Turning slowly, she discovered instead a deep shadow looming over her flashlight beam. A mighty hand with talons reached through her mirror without further breakage and encircled her body holding it tightly. Freya in her shock lost her grip over her flashlight allowing it to fall to the wood floor.

“You mask your devotion to me, Freya Blight. Just as all of your weakling Coven appears to be doing. How is it you side with the outcast over your Lord and Master?”

“I live to serve you, Oh, Darkevil! The girl manipulates what you see.”

“Does she?” His snarl easing. “Perhaps! Prove your loyalty Witch. I have a mission for you.”

“I shall gladly take upon the task.” Released from his grasp his talons shredded her housecoat and nightie upon retreat, her naked body exposed to him. His palm posed as if to crawl upon it, a razor-sharp fingernail was guided upward between her legs. Piercing her vagina with precision the tip tickled her uterus making Freya roll her eyes back at the erotic sensation. In her supermodel persona she would often lay with handsome young men and sup upon their souls to assist feeding her master. That much she kept sacred. These days her true loyalty was waning in favor of a possible wildcard Messiah in Raven Mourn. A mistress of deception Freya could lie without notice.

“I still make you quite wet.”

“Always Milord!”

“Shed your wrinkles and show me your imagination.” He knew of Rhea ... her last name Light, a dead giveaway that she had in a sense betrayed him. “Shine your ... Light!”

“Only a name to entice men Your Majesty. My Light! Your Might!”

“Interesting! Convince me!”

Her flesh tightening, chest lifting to gravity defying perfection she lifts her hands into her long blond hair and rode his talons fingertip, blood weeping from miscalculated stance. Climaxing hard over his uplifting prowess she never once failed to be the seductress. Leaning forward to touch his actual palm she continued her gyrations knowing well that her body would heal from his inflicting razor like nail puncturing internal organs. In his Hamlet style lift she was four feet off the floor. Woden fell silent in his call to arms knowing that Freya had received the biggest arm of all. Watching with fear that the Darkevil would snuff out his own life Woden felt badly for his mistress. Even worse for his lost love now Nameless should the Darkevil turn his grasp upon her.

A second finger rising behind Freya/ Rhea lightly pierced her anus in a nail riding DP. Rhea was screaming bloody murder, her own arms flailing as he ... dare it be said, nailed her. Multiple gore filled orgasms sent her body into chaotic spasm as she collapsed over his palm and kissed the blood flow of his wrist. Echoes of embedded souls were begging for freedom within his bloodstream, never missing a beat. With her respect paid he lowered her to the floor and stood her on her quaking bunny slippers. Freya hopped off; pun intended!

As his arm recoiled back into the mirror and abandoned this dimension his enlarged eye simply peered back at her. Freya falling to her hands and knees bowed. “How may I serve thee?”

“You shall perform a resurrection spell. One that binds those I wish to deploy to your pathetic Earth.”

“Thy will be done! May I ask as to whom? For the spell to synch up with those you wish to be set free, I must know whom to call upon.” She peered up through Rhea’s sweaty Medusa like bangs.

“The SIbliNgS’!” The Children of Sin!

It all made senses now!

The Hector Alonzo Residence! Inhabited by the occult, the good ones ... ehhh? Debatable!

Gwen Alonzo hobbled from the bathroom holding her back. Having to pee every hour on the chime was getting old. Even with her daughter Jody helping her along it was a chore. “Thank you, Honey!” Gwen hugged her only child from the side. Well, her only child to leave the womb. Jody fought hard to resist her own passenger using every ounce of willpower she had to cage her warrior Angel confined to her interior. Ikanunna was fighting viciously one minute, sympathetic the next. Their bondage together absorbing one another’s emotions and characteristics. With Jody being the dominant, she was all that held her bitch back.

“I hope daddy and Brandon are okay.” Jody pouted as her mother took a seat back on the side of the bed. “Not hearing from them is painful.”

“Not as painful as carrying three babies. My worry is how the boys are coping inside the babies. If the babies are feeding off of them, they might not survive like they did in you and I.”

“I wonder if Raven can communicate with them?” Without knowing it the Alonzo girls answered their own question of sorts. Raven’s astral body had monitored the babies progress while the ladies slept. The problem was Raven herself; her physical body at least was too busy to know what her astral side was doing. Strange how that two-timing effort worked. The astral body did not appear to understand her physical realms situation. Heads or tails? Spinning on its side like her pentagram when it was one; not some other design making use of the goat’s lines. Just like Vegas, a crap shoot! A slot machine she was!

“Honey? I think I’ll need you to be the one to go to the funeral home.”

“Do we even need too? With the morgue burning down daddy is already ashes.”

“Honey! We need an urn and a way of respecting who he was when alive. You can keep his ashes here at home over the fireplace or do as you feel appropriate.”

“Will they even be able to distinguish his ashes from everything else?”

“I never thought of that.” Gwen frowned with stress. “That does pose a dilemma.”

“I’ll have Keith look into it seeing as he knew pretty much where daddy’s body was in the morgue during the fire.”

“That is a very promising idea, Sweetie! I think I need to lay back. You go talk to him before he and Heather leave.”

“Okay! I love you mom!” Jody then blew a kiss toward her mother’s belly. “Love you too Daddy and Brandon. It’s going to be weird holding them as babies, if that’s who they are. Do we even know if the babies are them? Seriously, we should have Raven try and communicate with them.”

“Fine!” Gwen gave up, “As long as her help doesn’t get twisted, and I give birth to the Antichrist! Lord help us!” Clenching her teeth Jody took her leave dreading the same. Maybe that was why her inner angel Ikanunna was wanting to kill them. Praying was becoming more fluent as the days went by.

Shuffling downstairs to the basement Jody discovered Heather and Keith up and about, both in the shower together but only in sharing the cascade. It was simply a joint adventure. With the bathroom door wide open Jody simply walked right on in. Technically it was her house now that her father had left it to her in his will.

“Morning guys! Can we talk?”

With both of them seen naked multiple times modesty was the furthest thing from their minds. Keith spoke up first seeing as he was shampooing Heather’s hair. “What’s up, Warrior Princess?”

“Thanks! Mom and I were wondering something. Now that the morgue is gone my dad’s body was incinerated with it. Did you by chance know where his body was last? I mean, how do we bury dad if we don’t even know where his ashes are to claim?”

“I put him in a refrigeration locker the day before we determined the reason for his death. If by chance the lockers kept him cool still it is possible his body remained intact. Obviously, I can’t guarantee that but when I go for my car, I’ll check into it if they let me pass. I’m pretty sure my coroner status will get me through unless Heather’s boss prevents me access until questioned.”

“I’ll get him in Jody.” Heather rinsed her own hair, “At least if he did burn, the locker should still maintain his ashes.”

“Okay! I’m going to the funeral home later to purchase an urn for daddy. I just needed to know if there would be anything to put in it to begin with.”

“Paws crossed Kiddo!” Keith chimed in as he turned Heather so that he could benefit from the warm water. “I’ll try not to be gone long in case Gwen goes into labor. If you’re going out that just means Raven has to be there for her. I’d stay but if I want to keep my position, I have to make an appearance. We need to get ourselves some new cellphones to replace our old ones too. Long day but there really is no choice.”

“I understand.” Speaking of cells Jody’s rang in her hand. Looking at it she bulged her eyes, “Oh, crud! Now Brandon’s dad is calling my cell. We still don’t know how to tell him about Brandon dying. I wonder if Raven can just wipe his mind or something?”

“Don’t go there!” Heather jumped at the question, “Our luck, her luck, something else would happen to him. Let’s keep at least one innocent bystander from going to hell with the rest of us.”

“We don’t know we will.” Keith rolled his eyes. “If all dogs go to Heaven ... shit! I’ll pack light. Speedo?”

“Why? They say cats are demons. Might as well keep your third horn out in the open.” Heather gripped his cock then changed her hormonal mind due to Jody. “Let’s get dressed we have to get moving. Jody? Just ignore this Dale and...”

“What if Dale comes here?” Jody’s eyes bulged. “I think he knows where daddy lived.”

“If he does just don’t answer the door.”

“He will see our cars. There’s no hiding.”

“Not his son’s car though.” Keith added.

“Yeah, but if he sees our cars he won’t leave until we answer. The longer we put him off the harder it’s going to be. How do we explain mom being pregnant? He might presume that it’s Brandon’s kids she’s carrying. That won’t go over well when he saw mom just two weeks ago without a big belly.”

“Just have Gwen hide until he leaves. Tell him your mom and Brandon went to Vegas, I heard that idea brought up.”

“He will know that’s bullshit with my dad dying in the newspaper and all over the local news.”

“Out of ideas, Kid!”

“Me too.” She pouted, “I just feel so bad for Dale. He’s such a nice guy. We’ll figure it out I guess. I just know he’s going to resent us for hiding.”

“Any more than his son dying due to demonic possession a day after your dad? I hate to say it Heather, but Jody might be right. Maybe we need to see if Raven can fix this.”

“I might have a better idea.” Heather dried herself before tossing her towel at Keith. “I did just meet another of Raven’s grandmothers. I’d rather someone with experience deal with Dale.”

“Not the worst idea! Can we trust her though?” Keith dabbed at his scrotum.

“It’s worth a shot. The antique store Saffron worked at is right across the street from the morgue. I’ll walk over after I drop you for your car and handle Chief Americ.”

“Thank you, Guys! I know that would take a huge strain off of mom.”

“We can only try.”

Jody dared to hug them. Naked or not!

Having drawn a bubblebath for herself in competing for hot water, Raven Mourn crawled into the tub and settled back. Wincing at her back getting a twinge she sat forward and reached behind her as if inspecting her pentagrams marking along her lower spine. “Owww! Not only does my mark hurt today my asshole is sore. What did I do?” Her dream had long abandoned her of being DPd in her endless slumber. Deity Poked! We won’t refresh your memory if hers is long gone too. It was downright ugly! Father! Discarded Son! Missing Holy gHOST!

After lifting up in the water she noticed the tub becoming red. Touching her spine again she brought back fingers that were pink giving her the assumption she was definitely bleeding. Knowing it was inevitable she sat back and just dealt with the knowledge. Added tension she felt something poke at her shoulders. Unable to reach it she again sat up and searched the water behind her. “How did you get in my bathwater?” She discovered a white, well, pink feather now that it had been soaked in a bloody baptism.

Once again settling in she held the feather out in front of her and pondered what it meant. “We don’t have a bird. So, how did you get in ... Jody or Gwen’s angel connection? I don’t think either of them has taken any bath since we met, just showers. Well, the hot tub but that’s in the backyard.” A sudden vision of the bones in the hot tub she started to consider she needed to clean those out of there. A second vision brought on the reality that they flushed down the tub through a pentagram portal. “Did I do that?” Puzzled by the vision she simply just did not know what to make of the imagery. Later she would realize her vision was reality, that only left the how. Shrugging at herself she tried to relax while it was still hot.

After a lengthy soak she closed her eyes and sighed heavily, torn between napping and awareness. Touching her clit out of need she fingered her cunt and suddenly lost sight of reality yet again. It was as if her brain sealed off behind one of her unexpected barriers. More visions entered her thoughts, ones that she didn’t recognize immediately. The girl Dahlia chained up naked and spread-eagle moaning and laughing, skeletons tormenting her holes as she was fisted by lengthy arms, clear up to their elbows, their ulna and radius bones lost inside the girl. How was she accepting this? Why would she do it? Who was instigating such punishment? How could she be enjoying it?