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Tasìa Del Alma-Gris
1.25 Book One: The Gray Soul

1.25 Book One: The Gray Soul

Tasìa drifted easily into sleep a few hours later. She floated in pleasant dreams for what seemed like days. The swaying patterns in a swirl of mesmerizing colors cast upon her eyelids and not inside her mind.

It occurred to her to wonder, even in her dream state, what did that mean?

She opened her eyes slowly.

The Incubus stood over her. It did not speak. No other time had the creature merely stood still without attempting to seduce her.

She closed her eyes to dream again.

She felt the air fanned gently across her face.

Somewhere in time during her luxurious slumber she asked.

"Do you ever sing? Sing lullabies?"

The Incubus did not respond. Yet, its lips turned from an ample feminine fullness to a thin but strident masculinity.

No movement in the change of shape occurred between the contrasting forms as if the shift in appearance affected the accuracy of her memory instead of the perception of movement upon her eyes.

She wished to sleep but curiosity bent her mind toward thought.

"Why are you here, angel presiding?

"It would serve you well to never think of me as an angel."

Tasìa smiled to this remonstration.

"Au contraire. I know what beastly things angels can be."

It paused for a moment. The Incubus's wings changed course in their flutter.

"Indeed."

"So," Tasìa began to tease, "you are not going to try to kiss me this time?"

"We both know how that would end," it said.

"I ask again, why are you here?"

The colors of its wings sharpened in intensity before it spoke.

"Do you wish to save your kind?"

Tasìa giggled. What an absurd dream she was having. In moments like this she could dream lucidly.

Her exhausted state made her playful as well. Tasìa imagined vertical silver bars forming a cage around the Incubus.

It furrowed its brows in puzzlement at the sight of them.

"My little friend, do you wish harm upon me?"

"No," she answered.

She turned the silver bars into violin bearing cherubs. As they floated around the Incubus, they played sweet melodies and accompaniment.

"Your behavior is strange," it noted.

"You have come to me this evening to ask me an absurd question. Do I wish to save my kind? I want to know, Incubus, how are you feeling?"

"Damaged. To be perfectly honest with you."

Tasìa lay there, wondering. Was this merely a new tactic to lull her into allowing the spores to manifest? She doubted it. For tactical diversions, they brought out the Black-Eyed Ones.

"I'm not typically the altruistic sort, but what you are telling me, I need to hear or I will not get a minute more of restful sleep."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"This creature that you call the Infernal Madré -"

"She is one of your own, correct?"

"No. She invades us. She is what you might call a virus. In the sense of what you would call -"

"A computer virus?"

"Yes. Precisely."

"Interesting as this is, you should be invading Paz's dreams, instead of mine."

"Only you can get to where the Infernal Madré holds court."

"And you say if I do this thing that you are asking of me, I will be saving my species?"

"From annihilation, yes."

Tasìa smiled as she rumpled her fingers through a cherub's blond locks.

"I must admit, for a dream manifestation, this is pretty badass compared to the standard fair that makes me shit myself the moment you kiss me, or caress me down -."

It frowned.

"Your humor often leaves me perplexed, Ms. del Alma-Gris. Unfortunately, this is all too real, for both our kind."

"According to our scientists, you are the projection of an elaborate artificial system. A cluster of functions in a neural network. You are an idea, not real in the sense of having willful being. So, what does it matter to you?"

The Incubus shook its head.

"The difference in an idea and a being is merely a shift in frequency. The degree to which I am willful depends on the density of spore manifestation. In the highest mass accumulation, I am as wanting as you."

Tasìa made the sheets of her cot turn pink in shade, the LED corridor lighting turned a romantic red-tinted glow.

"I would be lying, Incubus, if I denied those sweet nothings you just spoke did not have a certain effect on me."

It chuckled as its head turned away from her.

"I can see you cannot be convinced this is anything more than dream, as such is the state of your exhaustion. Sleep well then Ms. del Alma-Gris. We will speak again, soon."

"Incubus?"

"Yes?"

"How can her ambition be any worse than your own?"

Its hair shifted from long, elegant strands to a bold, patriarchal tumble.

"My Love, you know so little. We were made to cull your species in order to improve it. She wishes to annihilate your species in order to replace it."

With those words it disappeared, and, in spite of its well-wishes, she was left to wonder sleeplessly on matters so frightful as to be beyond her mortal fret.

Tasìa felt as if she had just drifted off to sleep when someone squeezed her toe, awakening her. She opened her eyes with a groan.

It was the morning duty officer, CO Merino Luz.

"Who were you expecting, del Alma-Gris? Your own personal concierge?"

He threw her a handsome smile. She rose up from her cot, and slipped on her socks and shoes.

"Nothing personal, Luz, but I have been expecting you."

Luz shrugged his big shoulders to let her know that he was not offended.

"Go get a cup of coffee. I won't take long."

She glanced up at him as she tied her hair back in a ponytail. He was as calm as always. His nickname was The Cyborg for he abided by the regulations to a T.

In her present predicament, Tasìa thought that was a good thing. The lieutenant knew better than to ask Luz to plant anything on her while he conducted his shakedown; he would have had no qualms about reporting his superior officer.

Incorruptible. A few inmates Tasìa knew offered to exchange sex for favors. He reported them no matter how fetching their profiles.

Tasìa glanced into Kae-Kae's cell as she walked by. An unsettling ten thousand mile stare beset the woman's face.

Tasìa had seen a similar stare on many inmates before who had given up hope, but this one was different.

This stare was akin to that of someone surveying the field of battle in a last stand.

With her curiosity riled, Tasìa stopped and she leaned into the cell.

"Kae-Kae, how are you doing, mi hermana?"

Castro shook her head. The locks of her hair were listless. She was a woman in her late thirties. She usually kept up her appearances even here in prison. Though she was thick in her hips and her haunches, but small in her breasts, Castro's figure was still an attractive one.

Tasìa put a hand on the woman's shoulder. She felt no remorse in executing her vendetta, but she also felt it necessary to seem sympathetic so as to stay above suspicion.

"Come on with me, Kae-Kae. I'll make a cup of coffee for you."

Castro's pupils sharpened their focus. Her eyes darted from the wall she had been staring at and then back to Tasìa. An animal cunning exhibited through and through.

Yet, a tear ran down Castro's cheek.

"I am so sorry, Tasìa. You are the sweetest person I know. I should have not done it. They offered me -"

Tasìa put a hand to her own lips, the other hand waved in front of Castro's face, urging her to stop speaking.

Tasìa realized the woman must have seen Luz walking down the corridor and she knew what was about to go down. That it tugged at the woman's conscience surprised her.

Tasìa pointed to the PA speaker on the ceiling nearby them.

She forced her voice to sound pleasant as she spoke.

"Kae-Kae, come with me. I'll make you a cup of coffee, then we'll get some air and walk the track."