Chương 187: Birdie

Tender. Juicy. Divine. The firm delicacy slid over Nyxala's tongue. Slathered in sweet, iron-dense gravy, the firm meat melted over her taste-buds. It filled her mouth, but she felt no discomfort. Tender and lean, her meal slid from her back row of teeth, shredding easily on their sharp edges. Nyxala tilted back her head. She had a mind for nothing but the exquisite flavour. Even as the thick lump of flesh slid into her throat, all she could think about was the pleasant scraping of bone at the back of her mouth.

She enjoyed the way it resisted the tight compress of her esophagus all the way to her stomach. Never before had she eaten something that held her in such rapture. The taste, the scent, the touch. Nyxala felt every moment as it struck her stomach, and was feasted upon by the tendrils within. They picked around the bone until skin, fat, muscle and tendon were stripped clean. Then, they set upon the bone. It was all such a divine experience, that she forgot to be disgusted with herself…

until she saw the man beneath her, terrified. Most of his arm was missing. Lost down her throat. When she finally comprehended that she'd eaten human, and relished in it, she wasn't sure whether to be disgusted in herself because she'd bit him when so many other options were available… or disgusted because, now that she knew the taste, she would try it again. No matter how wrong it was, Prong had been delicious. Nyxala licked her lips and stepped towards the imbecile. Because of him, none in this room would live.

Not only had he unveiled her mutations, but also attempted to stab her in the back when his boss called for peace. If he was allowed to act like that, then it didn't matter that Lysyra trusted Judge. The rest in the room couldn't be allowed to live with what they knew. He scrambled to his feet. The fear in his eyes screamed his advanced state of flight. Nyxala didn't allow him to get away that easily; she took the opportunity to whack him with her tail. Two of the guards at the side rushed in.

At first, because of the way they kept their eyes on her as they ran, she thought they were coming to fight. Instead, they grabbed Prong and began dragging him away. Too lost in her gluttony, she'd missed Judge's order to have him carted away. She didn't miss the way he dismissed Prong.

"I never thought you this much a fool." Judge's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, before he turned to her and bowed his head.

"I apologise on behalf of the Refuge. Prong's actions bring shame to us all, and are certainly not to the standards we uphold ourselves. I'll will make sure he cannot speak of today."

"No." Nyxala barely let Judge speak before she turned to the three trying to slither away with what they knew.

"None of you are to leave." Under the weight of her five eyes, the two guards only metres from the door into the Refuge — and spilling her secrets to all — halted. They struggled against Prong's thrashing, yet it still looked like their hands would twitch to their weapons on a moment's notice. Both sets of eyes found Judge. The older man's reluctant nod was the only reason no more blood was spilt. He gestured to the corner.

"Make sure he doesn't bleed out… or further add fuel to the fire." Nyxala watched them carefully. Now that her mutations were all revealed, she didn't bother to hide them. Her tail scraped along the ground behind her. Wings and tentacles slipped out from her robe, and brushed her cloak back until it was little more than a cape. Maybe it was unnecessary to unveil more than they'd already seen, but she wanted the speed to strike any one of the witnesses down before they could run to spread the word.

Honestly, she should cut them all down right where they stood. It was the safest option.

"I understand your concerns, Nyxala, but please rest assured that my word remains," Judge said.

"None here shall speak of your mutations, nor your very presence."

"And what worth is your word?" Nyxala snarled.

"When you asked for peace, one of yours attacked me. What's to say no one else here will forgo your word?"

"Because they listen to me. They know that without the Refuge, they are doomed to eternal damnation at the hand of the cults."

"They are here because they weren't good enough for the cults," Nyxala said.

"Don't tell me there aren't some that would take this opportunity to slip into one of the cult's good graces." She knew just how valuable she was… but Nyxala wasn't so inclined to announce that to all the Cultless that might not yet understand.

"Even if some of mine would be tempted by the poisoned tongue, there are only two entrances. I will keep them contained for their safety, and yours." Judge gestured to the intercom.

"If you don't believe my words, then listen to those you know." He flicked a small, mechanical lever and stepped out of the way.

"Lysyra?" She waited for the reply before continuing.

"I'm going to slaughter everyone here."

"What? No. Why?" Lysyra's warbled voice broke from the panel.

"Please don't. What happened?"

"They saw," Nyxala growled.

"Why didn't you tell me they had a ritual that could suppress my concealer?" The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. She didn't care to kill those not of the cult. Given they were victims of the cults as much as she had been, there had been no reason for her to despise them. Now, they would have to die out of necessity. Nyxala was in no mood for Lysyra's usual impishness, and the girl could tell.

"I… I just didn't want to have to come in person." Even through the distortion, Lysyra's voice was clearly panicked.

"I didn't think there would be a problem. They don't deserve to die." Nyxala clenched her jaw, and she saw Judge's head shake as it fell within his hand.

"Well then, you better get here before I decide that my secrecy is more important than the lives of those you care about."

"What? Physically?" Nyxala flicked the switch and cut the connection without an answer. Either the girl stopped hiding herself away from the world and fixed this problem herself, or she would have to deal with the consequences of Nyxala's choice. Turning back to Judge, she offered the only ultimatums she could think of that would solve this stand-off without bloodshed. Well, more than Prong's.

"You have two options. Either Invow to me, or give me control over the ritual that strips name abilities." Judge's eyes hardened and his otherwise calming, neutral expression was replaced with a frown.

"To ask such in response to pleas of peace is nothing if not insulting." Judge interlaced his fingers, letting his hands hang at his stomach.

"Surely I don't need to explain why I shall consider neither such options. If you insist, then a fight is inevitable. Do not believe just because your mutations are unaffected by the ritual space, that you are untouchable. Your name is as bound as any other. We have our ways." Nyxala's wings flaunted themselves with a shiver of feathers.

"I could kill everyone in this room in a matter of seconds."

"We are but individuals in a collective. If I die, there are thousands that shall take my place."

"Then you would condemn thousands to die."

"Not willingly." Judge glared.

"Threats like yours must be responded in kind, regardless the cost. My life means nothing, but I am not unaware of my position. What you ask for poses a greater danger to the Cultless than whatever slaughter you attempt to enact. We all must do what is necessary to survive." Nyxala returned his glare. Where every other guard in the room had flinched from her gaze, Judge held strong.

"Then let me kill just those here." She could hear how many jostled their guns at her words.

"And you can make sure nobody else finds out."

"Prong, you had the right to strike. He assaulted you." Judge waved his arms over the gathered guards that were listening in on the debate that may result rather detrimentally for their mortality.

"But let me be clear: you will not be harming any other Cultless without consequences. Not while they remain within the Refuge's care." Once again, his face softened to the kindly visage he first held.

"Does solving this peacefully remain an impossibility?" So long as Nyxala had no assurances of secrecy, then yes. Her wings spread wide, spines rose, and claws extended. Judge held no evolution, but the way he stood with such indomitable confidence despite the danger she posed made her wary of whatever he may be hiding. He would be first. Nyxala bared her teeth, and let out the most intimidating growl she was capable. It didn't sound remotely human.

Then, in the room ready to erupt from tension, a forgotten sacrifice gasped. Nyxala barely stopped herself from lunging at Judge's neck as the young adult rolled over and puked whatever was left of that fluid that once preserved him. He coughed a few times and looked around the room at all the faces with eyes for him alone. He bawled. Like a lost toddler, the grown adult descended into a fit of sobs. He wailed muffled, incomprehensible words that might have been combinations lost in each other, or nonsense.

His mutated chest was buff enough to make any Bodytwister envious, and yet he curled up on himself and refused to move despite his gaze flickering between everyone in the room with fear. Nyxala widened her eyes and checked his soul again. Before, she'd just checked to see he was unevolved, but had missed something obvious. The boy had no additive. Just the cursed base name.

'Boy' really was more apt than 'man' in this situation. He'd never had his naming ceremony. Whatever the Worshippers had done to him, they'd taken the boy long before he was an adult, and by his infantile reaction to the world around him, he'd never been given the chance for his mental faculties to develop.

"Shhh, child. It's alright." Judge crouched before the sacrifice as if Nyxala posed no danger.

"You are safe. We are here to help you." And… there went any hope to speak with him about his mutations. Even if he was smart enough to talk, there was no chance he knew enough about the changes that twisted his body to provide her anything worth the effort. The best she was going to get from him was what she'd already gleamed. His name was thin, and held nowhere near as much corruption as she did. But, comparing him to herself was probably unfair. His own soul was a well she couldn't perceive through.

Would opening his name create a Dark Star? Would it unleash more mutations? Now that the boy was unlikely to be able to tell her his own experiences, these were the only questions she could ask… yet they were both just as likely to kill him. Unlike her, his name looked fragile. It took Judge a minute of soothing words to calm the boy. Nyxala waited, not about to murder him when this was the entire reason she'd brought the sacrifice here.

Well, it had originally been so he'd have somewhere safe for him, but childcare worked too. It was just a matter of time to see whether the others here would live. And if anyone would take the boy in after Nyxala slaughtered so many of their brethren.

"How will you deal with the Madness?" Nyxala asked.

"Not a problem here." Judge didn't turn from rubbing the oversized child's back. The boy was now much calmer, and looked around at his surroundings with curiosity.

"The ritual stops Madness from manifesting. So long as he stays here, will be fine." The sacrifice giggled, his uncomprehending eyes following the raised platform above the armoury where many guards were murmuring amongst themselves about what Nyxala and Judge had been talking about. It seemed not everyone was happy to turn their attention from Nyxala as Judge. Well then, no wonder Lysyra had recommended this place.

"You better hope Ly͚sy͚rã is persuasive." Judge chuckled.

"Then I guess we're already safe. Little Lys always gets what she wants."

"Little birdie," the former sacrifice babbled. For some inexplicable reason, Nyxala's blood ran cold.

"Don't be hungry, there's a worm right there." The shaved crown of horns on the boys head suddenly rippled. They pushed outwards, and another row burst from his skull, spilling blood and broken skin everywhere. The boy didn't seem to notice. Nyxala barely had the time to follow the boy's gaze before a harrowing scream ripped through the armoury. Up on the platform, a guard clutched his neck. There was nothing seemingly wrong. No blood. No wound. And yet the man leaned on the rail, screaming death.

Then, there was the sound of shattering bone. Nyxala watched as something pushed out at the man's chest. The outline of a worm squirming its way down lower in the man's torso. The guard's agonised screams only ceased when his chest erupted. But this wasn't the worm escaping. Something Nyxala couldn't see was chomping deep, pointed bites out of him. In only moments from the start of the screams, the guard fell dead, yet his chest remained the soil through which a beak dug.

Nyxala's eyes fell back on the boy, who watched with innocent glee.

"The worm couldn't hide from you, birdie!" The boy was already Mad. Apparently Judge was wrong; the ritual did not stop the manifestation of Madness. His head turned, meeting her eyes.

"Birdie," he yelled, delighted.

"I found another."