A Mouth Full

An internal revelation about myself threw me into that dark pit tunnel earlier. It was a punch in the gut, that shook my faith in myself and my perception of how far I’ve come and how free I really am.

And made a few other things wretchedly clear.

I knew if I stayed awake, I would go in mental circles. Each revolution digging me deeper and deeper in self-pity and hate. Time for a nap. If for nothing else, to remove myself from the physical markers that I wanted to cut out of me.

Nathaniel was waiting for me to slip between. Now in shades of dark brown and gray, the impossibly large spider clung to the far wall of my room and mocked my obvious pain. If only I knew my place in the world, he said. If only I bowed to my betters that had been placed above me.

I’m sure in some book somewhere, some author has recorded a few key rules for dealing with animals. “Don’t challenge a predator in its lair.” “Don’t poke a wounded predator.” “When considering strike range, a safe boundary is at least double what you know the animal can reach.” “Bitches will fuck you up.”

Somehow, I don’t think Nathaniel has read those books.

I’m sure he doesn’t consider humans to be animals.

I’m still too fresh from being reminded I am.

When I stopped myself and regained sentience, one of his spider legs was bending the wrong way and the another had been stabbed through by an unusual dagger still in my hand. He was pinned to the wall by that dagger, and my free hand was crushing his hat over his face. I could feel his lips moving through the molded material.

I couldn’t hear anything though. My ears were still ringing from berserker fury. In realizing what I had almost done, I wondered why I stopped myself. As I remembered a friend’s advice not to give in to bloodlust, my hearing returned. “Damn savage! Is this why the angels do not enter! On hearing the truth you would beat it into submission! They were right! No amount of better blood will ever breed a better negro. How dare you assault me! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM!” His other legs were trying to push my hand off his face, and trying to pull the dagger free. His insults, quite mild considering the era he lived in, did not drive me to anger. They reminded me of an unpleasant truth, and of why I needed to go to the Boneyard.

But there was no chance I would dare to leave him unattended. While still a decapitated head with giant spider legs sprouting from it, he is no longer the adorably bright orange tarantula I first saw him as.

His transformation has made him into a dark brown and grey wolf spider. A friend noted Benefé’s presence had kept Nathaniel in better spirits. With that tempering influence gone, Nathaniel would show his true nature. An aristocratic man of Victorian England? Entitled as fuck and cruel to any he feels lesser than him. And by “any”, I mean “everyone else”.

I still needed to go to the Boneyard, but my reason had changed. I’ll deal with my own personal shit later. I have a request to ask the Ravens. Up until now, I could not force any dead to move on. All I could do was offer to assist as I did Benefé, or offer to take them to the Boneyard as I did La Señorita Muerte and her infant. If they refuse, I can do naught else.

But Nathaniel has crossed a line with me. I wanted to ask the Ravens if I may bring him at will. Though it would be hard for me to justify the request other than “He’s a shitty roommate.”.

“My hat! For God’s sake, woman! At least leave my hat in peace! It was a gift! The last I have!” Oh, why did I fall for it?

Leaving the dagger pinning one leg to the wall, I removed his hat to pop it out back into shape. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him frantically try to remove the dagger from his leg. Or at the least, pull his leg through the dagger. But I know what that dagger is, and who made it. It’s going nowhere until I release it. And what it has pinned is going nowhere until I release it.

Hat popped back into shape, I consider placing it on the table to taunt him. I look up to his dead face to begin to speak.

And received a face full of rank, oily, chunky vomit.

Bastard.

I grab a handful of shadows and stuff them into his mouth stopping the flow at once. From a hanging cobweb (made by normal spiders), I grab a line of silk. Twisting it in my fingers to make something otherworldly of it, I tie Nathaniel’s mouth shut. He can scramble at it all he likes, but he won’t be able to pull the silk off, or pull the shadows out of his mouth.

A quick flaring burned the putrescence off of me. I was not affected by it, nor did I have any lingering residue. But I was pissed.

“Nathan. That was quite improper of you. Naughty boy. If you are the example of civilized men that we ‘lesser things’ are supposed to look up to, no wonder my world has gone to shit.”

“mmMM? MMMHMMHHM!” Nathan stopped scrambling at the dagger and the silk. His glare made me laugh.

“So, Nathan. Now you’re going to take your place and listen to me.” He flailed reaching for my face. I placed the top hat on the table out of his reach. Snapping off the broken spider leg, I turned it around and impaled the leg opposite the dagger. He is now stretched out across my wall by two legs, at such tension he is unable to use the position as leverage to pry himself free.

“Remember I said I had enough of your shit? Remember I said I do not owe you a damn thing? Remember I said I was Queen Bitch of this house, and you agreed? The only thing keeping me from destroying you now is I feel the Boneyard calling.” I started to leave the room, but turned around and looked at the mounted spider.

“If I had known you’d make a good trophy, I’d have mounted you on the wall long before now. But then again, you’re just another dipshit. I’m sure I’ll find something better in time.” He tried to cry out through the shadow-gag, but all I heard were angry hums.

A step backwards, a turn in mid-air, and I’m falling through worlds. Arriving at the Boneyard, I find myself in a curious mix of fledging and shroud. I checked the pyres in my care, then sought a raven.

My intent being to ask a raven for the Ravens, the masters of this place. But as fast as I formed the desire in my head, a great number of ravens began to arrive and settle on the bone piles around me. Larger and larger the ravens that arrived were, until they were such size that had never been recorded on Earth, not even in the fossil records.

I felt a peck on my shoulder and turned to see a raven standing eye to eye with me. It was standing on the ground. It shook itself with intentional flair and stared at me. I ducked my head in respect, wishing I knew more about bird body language.

It shook itself again, and lowered itself so again I was eye to eye. Now, I understand. I’m not to hide my gaze, I’m to meet its own. I stand up straight and return stare for stare.

Who? No word was formed but the understanding shook me through.

“Nathan.”, I said, before realizing verbal language was nearly useless here. I called to mind the image of him as I left him, pinned to my bedroom wall. Him.

Why? Well, shit. Just how do I say “He’s a shitty roommate, tried to dominate me, and vomited on me as a last resort?” in thought-speak? I broke gaze trying to think of how I was going to put the images together. The Raven Lord cawwed loudly at me to get my attention again. I locked my gaze with its own and opened my memories to its perusal.

Show us. My body jolted as the Raven begins to search through what I’ve experienced. Show us. He vomits on me as I lift my face to look at him. Show us. Nathan is watching over me as I’m fitting. Show us. Benefé’s passing. Show us. Benefé’s death from the boy’s point of view. Show us. Nathan’s intense mourning the day of the boy’s death, and the personally dragging and dumping of the boy’s body into a river the day after. Show us. Nathan’s death pieced together from his memory. Show us. Nathan’s death based on the lies he has told me and he tells himself. Show us. The change in Nathan after Benefé’s passing. Show us. Nathan’s dialog during my berserker blackout. Enough.

Bring him to us.

No flame touches him.

Bring him, as he is, to us.

This, you are to do.

[Raven].

There is a flurry of wings and noise as the multitude of ravens launch themselves into the ever gray sky. I come to my senses and find I had fallen first to my knees, then on my side during the interrogation.

I pulled myself up off the ground, shook off the dirt and fully fledged in the process. Only now do I notice I’m missing a feather. I laugh as I remember where I left it. The strange dagger pinning Nathan to the wall. Even though I am able to jump from Boneyard to my room with much-practiced ease, I use the pinning feather as a beacon instead.

The moment my feet left the ground of the Boneyard, I arrived in my room. But I was not in mere feather cloak and street clothes now. The Ravens had given me a task, a task I shall do, in the method that I was bidden to do.

Nathan started to hum vulgarities through the shadow gag until his dead eyes looked at me and realized what stood before him. The shroud wrapped around me as a long, loose shift. The cloak hung free off my back, but was fused to my arms in a way that reminded one of representations of Ma’at. My face was covered by my deathmask. My fingers ended in talons.

He whimpered.

“You have been asked for. Come along peacefully, or come along in pieces. You choose as you will.” Without waiting for an answer, I pulled his detached leg from the wall. As I placed it in my traveling satchel, Nathan began to claw and scratch at me. With one hand, I grabbed his soggy face and slammed his head against the wall a few times. The house shook, but the wall held. His determination, did not.

I pulled the dagger free, snapped it into feather form, and tucked it back into place on me. Grabbing him by his hair, I pulled his spider legs from his head. Placing the now complaining head on the table next to his hat, I gathered up the fallen legs (all ten of them, though 2 were used solely to keep his hat on his head), and tucked them into the satchel. I tucked his immobile head into his hat, and placed both into the satchel.

Returning to the Boneyard only took the desire to do so. When I arrived, I found myself surrounded by Ravens and Boneburners. Ravenwoman was among them, but she made no attempt at familiarity or recognition. The other Boneburners, I do not know, but they all regarded me as one of them. We all wore feathers, shrouds, and masks. I saw men among the Boneburners. For some reason, I was surprised.

I approached the largest of the Ravens. I bowed in respect, but returned to a standing position. I looked at it, but did not stare until bidden to. (See, I can be taught.) The Raven regarded me coolly, then cawed and stared at my satchel.

First I removed Nathan’s detached spider legs and held them aloft. The Raven cawed in laughter and nodded. A multitude of smaller ravens (but still larger than an eagle) suddenly mobbed me and removed the legs from my grip. They tore the legs apart at the joints and played with them before dumping the shredded and useless appendages into a nearby pyre.

The Raven nodded again, and stared at the satchel once more. I pulled free the inverted top hat, still holding Nathan’s inverted head. I pulled Nathan’s head free from the hat by his hair. I presented it in a high grip to the Raven.

Nathan cried through the shadow gag. It was clear he did not want to be here. The other Boneburners whispered between themselves and the other ravens perched with them.

The Raven stared in my eyes. Burn the hat. I threw the hat into a bonefire with precision. Remove the gag. I reached up, snapped the binding silk, and pulled the shadows free from Nathan’s mouth.

“I will not surrender! I did not surrender to those dogs in Germany, and I will not surrender to whatever demon you are! I am a good Christian man, fully baptized and sealed from your unholy powers! I may be dead, but I am not yours!”

Those watching fell silent as Nathan made his verbal stand. After he spoke, there was only the sound of the ever burning fires. Then all was crushed by the weight of the multitude of rolling laughter. Raven and Boneburner alike were shaking their heads and running out of breath. I wasn’t surprised to hear Nathan’s rebuttal of his arrival.

The Raven Lord wasn’t laughing.

[Raven], you should have come sooner.

[Benefé] was handled correctly.

[This bastard], wasn’t.

Give him to me.

I came forward and offered Nathan’s head with formality. The Raven Lord took him from my hands and unceremoniously dropped him on the ground. I took a few steps back, but felt I hadn’t been dismissed yet so remained standing facing the Raven Lord.

The Raven Lord braced Nathan’s corpse gray head with one foot, and quickly pulled out Nathan’s left eye. Once free of the head, the Raven Lord snipped the optic nerve and swallowed the eye at once. Nathan’s screaming brought the laughter to a halt. I did not look to see the facial expressions of the other Boneburners, but I had the feeling there were many a smug and applauding grin.

The Raven Lord reached down and removed Nathan’s other eye in the same way. Nathan ceased screaming and began hurling obscenities and empty threats. He cursed the day I returned to the house. He cursed the day I was able to see him. He cursed furiously at the many chances he had to “bring [me] into his influence”. He mocked Horatio for not being able to bring me to my knees in servitude as had been his plan. And he cursed at “Satan’s flying pecker, sent by God to mock [Nathan’s] few sins”.

The Raven Lord looked down at Nathan, then looked up at me. He looked down at Nathan, and adjusted his footing so that a talon of his other foot was hooked into Nathan’s jaw.

The Raven Lord looked up at me once more to make sure I was watching. I was. Intensely. I knew what was coming. To be honest, I was looking forward to it. He suddenly stabbed his beak down, and in one smooth tug and pull, wrenched Nathan’s tongue free of his mouth.

He threw the macabre flesh towards me. It landed at my feet.

Eat.

I was not looking forward to that part. I bent down and picked up the squirming black flesh. It did not smell like chicken. My human taste buds led a physical revolt and refused the morsel.

I heard snickers from those watching. I felt the determined stare of the Raven Lord. This was both punishment and boon. I have to get this down somehow.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When among Ravens…

I threw the tongue up into the air and jumped after it. In mid jump, I transformed myself into a raven and caught it. Landing on the bonedust ground, I ripped and tore into the black and purple flesh, swallowing pieces with corvid glee. Where in human form I would have been utterly revolted, as a raven, this was a damn fine piece of meat. Yum.

The meal complete, I transformed back into Weaver Boneburner. The Raven Lord, still clutching Nathan’s now silent head, was observing me coolly.

Who said you could not take [dead spirits without their consent]? I answered with an image of Ravenwoman. The Raven Lord squawked in dismissal.

You are [Raven].

Take what you want.

Listen to your instinct.

You know more than you think.

The Raven Lord stared at me intently, piercing its words deep past my doubts and fears. It blinked, and clapped its beak at me, breaking the connection. My audience was done. Nathan was no more my concern.

I cocked my head then bowed slightly. As I turned to walk away, the Raven Lord began stripping the flesh off Nathan’s head. Some pieces it flung to other ravens and boneburners. Mostly it ate as it stripped. I thought of my own meal, and wondered what am I continuing to transform into.

I left the Boneyard, and woke up in my room. The scent of burning spider legs followed me to the Waking, reminding me of grilled lobster.

I’m hungry.

Make of that, what you may, while I raid the refrigerator.