Sunken Sins

[Niamh Sionnaigh]

Timeless moment under the waves. A life lived without breathing, participating and mimicking the chitters and clicks of her fellows but always holding herself apart.

They murdered her. Swallowed her life and made her watch as her son was torn apart and devoured. Sacrificed to the frigid depths.

She didn't believe. Couldn't believe. Wouldn't believe.

Her greatest sin plain in her unbeating heart.

Unknown to everyone save herself, until, for there is always an until, the High Priestess returned from parlay. Years kept her from them, a story told by the wool and silk she wore, when she found them under the waves.

Her eyes shone, fangs opalescent and gleaming, humming, clicking. Sucking in water to expel it in gulps.

an alliance. hunting rights along the waterways. and an inclusion within the domain

Wool sodden, silks flowing, hair floating. Hisses and clicks.

sharing of power. lessons learned. and she would reward the faithful by teaching them how to open their eyes...

Those gleaming eyes swept over her drowned kin, stopping at her. And tore right through her.

Flesh tears. Shucking away from the monstrous truth that lay beneath.

Hackles raised, and in a subhuman hiss, water bubbling forth from parted lips.

heretic!

It didn't even take a moment. There was no hesitancy as her drowned kin turned on her, claws growing, fangs gleaming.

Sharks in the water.

They chased her.

Bloodied her.

...but didn't let her die.

No. She wasn't worthy enough for them to kill. To drown twice. So they left her for the sun.

...only she was found by a Shepard tending his flock.

[Niamh Sionnaigh]

She found by a Father and not the sun.

Her world was narrow for all it's unending vastness.

She woke the next night, or maybe not. It might have been a sennight, a fortnight. Longer. She didn't know.

But it was to the Father's palm, sliced open. Dripping life upon her face. Oh how she hungered. To reach forwsrd, test the cold metal that bound her to a wooden chair, to flick her tongue up and catch the ruby droplets as they fell.

She wasn't Embraced yesterday, and kept her mouth shut. The fleeting sensation to joy wasn't worth the gut wrenching disappointment as it turn to salt water upon her tongue, gagging and unable to swallow it down.

The Priest seemed remorseful, but hard. She was a demon that wouldn't die. Living this false life as her loved ones continue to rest uneasily. It wasn't hard for him to project that mien.

He told her very plainly that he and his fellows hunted monsters like her, and he knew how to hurt them, and keep them from death.

He told her in that measured tone that he wanted names, holdings, safe houses...everything she couldn't give him about the waterless world he was concerned about.

To her shame, she realized she didn't want to die. Somehow always knowing, but know when faced with dealth twice over she realized she wanted to live...even if it was this half life she hated.

And so, haltingly, she told them about the waterways. The serpentine paths traveled, and the closest ritual sites to the coast.

With each truth spoken more sins were added to her heart.

[Niamh Sionnaigh]

She'd been found in the back of that church, hands still bounds by the hand cuffs, already having broken the wooden chair the Priest tied her to.


They saw her naked as a newborn, blood died to her matter hair, her nose, cheeks and lips. Staining everything but not her teeth.


A kindred with pink stained hair wild and unkempt, grabbed the cuffs, flexed and broke the metal from her wrists.


The pink haired women "Sindy with an 's'" asked how she found herself 'buck ass nude' in a hunter's bolt hole.


She shook her head not wanting to say...to admit...instead she asked what year it was. She had long lost track of the difference between days and nights, for the nights are never ending, and under the waves there are no seasons.


"Torpor, huh?"


A voice, accent rough and unfamiliar said but didn't really ask. Not Sindy, s or otherwise, a man. Burly and tattooed, hair lank, smelling like shit and vinegar, and looting like he favored time in the gutter.


Warily she nodded, silently adding one more lie to her burdens.


"Well, fuck." The hulking mass of manure cursed, while Sindy with an 's' grinned, "Welcome to the new millennium."


If her heart could stutter it would.


Well fuck, indeed.