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Orp…
“I’ll be there soon. Don’t be a baby.” Orp texted Remmy.
In return, their captive friend sent, “I’m starving to death.”
“You are spoiled. There is plenty of food.” Orpiment shook his head. “A grown man your age should be able to make do.”
Remmy gave no response. Orp smiled to himself and then glanced up to see if anyone at the coffee shop had noticed him. He made his face blank. No need to draw attention. There would be plenty of time to enjoy adding a little terror to their captive’s day before he gave him the good news.
Orp had talked the others into letting him bring Remmy to their next gathering. The ex boyfriend was a bit of a superstar amongst their followers. And if he wore his eyepatch, Remmy would have an added layer of mystery.
The man’s willingness to work with them, even while he was chained in a basement, amused Orp to no end. The guy was healing pretty well, and Cary had informed them all that Remmy was regaining strength, so to keep aware in his presence. Orp liked the idea of introducing him to some of the super fans. Particularly the ones that shared his fascinations. Balor had been gathering followers like flies since he had begun posting online in the shadows. He made them believe. But that idiot, Remmy, and his video had been a godsend.
They drew them along, promising them that once they solved the puzzle, the gift would be shared. As if. What world needs an ocean of gods? In truth, he found it disconcerting just how many werewolves there appeared to be in the world. The deeper he dug, the more tendrils he found. Pockets of sightings. Family lore.
A woman in England had mailed Orp a book. The binding had made him sigh with joy. So beautiful. He’d known before he had it tested what it was. His first touch informed him that the material was tanned human skin. He’d lifted the gift to his face and took a sniff of the leather. There was something distinct and familiar. It smelled like their first kill. Cary had wanted to have some of the cover to match with the tissue they had saved from the wolf. They needed time and a community. Followers would protect them with their mass of humanity.
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He would take Remmy to their next meeting. He’d love the fawning and the small scale stardom. They might not have to kill him in the end. He had a useful skill set. He was second only to Orp in his ability to crawl around the bowels of human communication. If he would just believe and join the fold…
*
Balor
Balor looked down at his pretty little wife, passed out again in their bathroom next to a splatter of foamy lemon yellow bile. He had Narcan in the cabinet, but he was growing tired of her. Balor crouched down and lifted her hand, exploring the floppiness of her wrist. He’d probably be a more successful leader if he was single. It was amazing how much of an aphrodisiac power was to some women. Their panties just slithered down their legs and their wallets opened like gaping mouths.
He let her hand fall from his and it smacked against the tile. Only time would tell if she would live to join him at their next gathering in two days. They would have the best attendance ever. Secret handshake, made with the left index finger pressed against the inner corner of your left eye. He laughed at the ridiculous things the rumor mill was sending out about how you could get in.
Orp and his minion Remmy were doing a fantastic job building an online mystique along the underbelly of the world. They were making people salivate. Tell them the population can’t join and then, the silly things, want in. They’d take their money and their skill sets. Balor planned to promise them the world.
The more the crowds grew, the more Balor loved the spectacle of it all. Underneath, with all of their bravado and claims to want to be within the ring of the wheel, most of them would shit their pants when he finally changed in front of them and tore apart their children.
A tiny piece of them felt safe. Most of their fans didn’t really believe. But he was going to make them believe. All they needed was to capture a wolf, videotape its destruction and force its change. He wanted to start there, but eventually, in time. When they knew how to find them. He wanted them in their fragile human shapes. Balor wanted their knowledge.
But, the gathering fans weren’t ready for that show yet. There had been a handful that had shown up with children’s Halloween wolf ears at the last gathering. Oh, how they loved the idea. How they craved being special. Belonging. Believing. He definitely had a cup for them to sip from.
A clear bubble formed at his wife’s lips and her eyes rolled up into her head. He hoped she wouldn’t shit the floor if she died. He doubted the paramedics would clean that up. He’d have to bring someone in. Sad really. Poor girl, and to think she had never touched a drug in her life before they went on their honeymoon.