††† Come Little Children †††

[The Black Orchid]

††† Parental and NSFW Advisory †††
††† Scenes will contain Violence of a graphic nature, Foul Language and Adult Content. †††
††† You've been warned. †††

†††††††††††††††††††† A Memory ††††††††††††††††††††

She pulls her robe on as she sits on the edge of the bed. There are welts and bite marks marring her usually flawless, though tattooed, flesh. Her hair is down and mussed up. She goes to pull the robe up over her shoulder and a hand reaches out to stop the motion.

She turns to look at the man over her shoulder and smiles darkly as rough fingers play over one of the welts. Only to see it dance down to linger over one of the bite marks.

A soft purr sounds from the woman as she feels the caress of the man's fingers along her flesh.

“Admiring your work?”, she asks softly.

The man simply growls lowly as his hand retreats from her flesh. As he moves out of the bed, it shakes the robe down a bit. Only to reveal a tattoo of a black Japanese dragon that winds its way up her back. There are other tattoos inked upon her flesh. But it's the dragon that makes him take notice.

“Which do you find more pleasing? The sting of the gun as it's biting into your flesh.. Or the sensation of my teeth sinking into what's mine?”, his voice carried over from the window.

She turned to face him more now. Her head tilted slightly to the left as she looks at his back. His own back was an inked up mural of the past. Her gaze went from one scene to the next. A nightmare landscape of children screaming out in pain. Or horror. One could never really tell which. Unless you knew the man himself.

“You know the answer to that. Though, I must say I have a hard time determining which I like more. The sting of your teeth sinking into my flesh. Or the way your nails rip into it.”, she smiles in an almost serene way. “Both are a pleasure.”

The man grunts in acceptance of her words as she finally stands and heads toward the bathroom.

After a few moments, the sound of the shower being turned on is heard. The man turns away from the window and stalks towards the bathroom.

As he opens the door, steam rolls from the bathroom itself. He doesn't bother closing the door all the way, but the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back can be heard. And then the sounds start all over again.

The sighs. The moans. The groans. The cries of pleasure....

†††††††††††††††††††† The Present ††††††††††††††††††††

She blinks.

Pushing the memory from her mind, she turns and continues her walk through the forest.

She's barefoot as she walks through the forest. The black dress she wore drug on the ground gathering up dead leaves, bits of twigs and dirt. This didn't seem to bother the Priestess. But neither did the sounds of various screams and growls that seemed to dance their way through the forest itself.

Unlike the others, she had no fear of walking through the forest. She knew what lurked here. She knew and still, she walked. The forest had become her sanctuary. The peace she found here couldn't be described.

Not with a word. Not even with a sound. It was.. A feeling.

One she couldn't.. No, wouldn't.. allow you to feel. Even if you begged.

As she walked, she'd catch glimpses of shadows dancing their way into the light. Only to spin away any time she attempted to turn and look at them straight on. The laughter that spilled and danced along the forests floor sounded like that of children. Only, it wasn't the type of laughter one would think a child's laugh should sound like.

When one thinks of a child's laugh, they envision children dancing in a circle at a circus. Enjoying cotton candy or dancing around a clown. They envision children playing on a playground. Spinning on the Merry-Go-Round as it spins faster and faster.

When one thinks of a child's laugh, they envision children jumping up and down in front of the ice cream truck as it makes its daily stop. Or they envision children playing in their front yards with their childhood friends or siblings.

But that wasn't the sound that slipped along the forest floor. No, the sound that danced about Maiko's feet as she walked was of children laughing at the darkness that played with them. The giggles rang out as the shadows slipped in and out of her peripheral vision.

A dark, yet tender, smile formed as she moved deeper through the forest.

She walked for what seemed like an hour until she came to a pond. The sound of the water bubbling up from underneath left a lot to be desired. It bubbled and gurgled as if it were being strangled. Waves of black sludge licked at the shore of the pond as she approached.

As she stood there, there came the sight of the water rippling out. As if someone, or something, were walking on it. Once it hit the center of the pond, it stopped. She tilted her head slightly as she watched the water ripple and dance towards the shore.

But the sound of the water is what drew her. The serene sounds of screams and haunting giggles of children mixed with the sounds of the pond had her slipping down to sit just before the waters edge.

She curled her legs up under the dress and leaned to the right with her palm against the forest floor. She let her cheek rest against her shoulder as she sat there.

She'd find the peace she was seeking. Just by sitting by the pond. Even if she didn't enter the pond itself.

From off in the distance came the scream of some animal as it wondered too close to the forest's edge and got caught. A smile formed at that thought. And the thought itself had her closing her eyes and visualizing the animal being ripped to shreds and torn asunder.

She stayed that way for a good while. Just listening to the forest and all she had to say. She listened to the trees groan as a wind kicked up the dead leaves. She listened to the wind itself. Whistling through the twisted and gnarling branches as it spun and wove its way through. As if it were trying to rush through the very forest itself to get through the other side.

As she started to laugh, softly, something else entirely caught her attention. The water in the pond began to ripple once more. As if something landed in the middle once more and, instead of walking this time, began to run.

Not away from her, as one might believe, but towards her. The splashes got harder and harder the faster the thing ran. But once it reached the pond's edge, it disappeared entirely.

She narrowed her eyes slightly and moved to stand. She wasn't afraid of anything in the forest. The creatures knew better than to touch the Priestess of the Dark Father. They were more afraid of him then of the Priestess herself.

It took less time for her to reach the forests edge on her way back than it did to reach the pond itself. As she stepped from the darkness of the forest itself, something exploded behind her.

As she turned around to look behind her, she noticed that the same black sludge that covered the pond, was now covering the trees of the forest itself.

A dark brow lifted up inquisitively as she looked from one tree to the next. A smirk formed as she turned to head back into the compound.

Once she was back within the gates of the compound, she made her way to her own cabin. Her hand reached out to open the door and there, in the middle of the front room, was two men. Each standing with their backs to her. Their heads bowed down as if in prayer. But their arms.. Their arms were held aloft. Strung up by ropes that hooked into the ceiling.

From the back, the two mean looked lean. Muscular. Hair as black as the night sky. They were about the same height. Their upper bodies were bare. Sweat glistened off their backs as they stood there. And they made no sound at all.

She walked into the room and stood there. Looking at them, if only for a few moments, before moving off to the side to a table that was housed up against one of the walls. On the table was a cane. A bamboo cane.

She picked up the can and tested it a few times against the palm of her hand. Listening to how it whistled through the air as she swung it. And then listened to how it sounded as it cracked against the flesh of the palm of her hand.

Another serene smile formed as she turned to look at the two men before her.

“Are you ready, My Sons?”, she asked quietly.

“It is as...”, one said.

“...Mother wishes.”, finished the second.

Their voices were almost as serene as the Priestess' was. As if they looked forward to whatever punishment she was about to mete out to them.

And she walked around them, each, a time or two before the sound of the cane whistling through the air was heard...

†††††††††††††††††††† Come Little Children ††††††††††††††††††††

As the first sound of the cane connecting with flesh was heard, the Priestess began to hum softly. It was a haunting lullaby. The sound of two more strikes against flesh could be heard as she began to sing softly...

Come little children..
I'll take thee away into a land
of enchantment.

Come little children..
The time's come to play.
Here in my garden of shadows.

“Vincent Jones...

...That name...

Should mean something.

Shouldn't it?”

The camera seemed to follow the Priestess as she walked. Though, the faces of the two men had yet to be revealed. Yet, the Priestess raised her arm up above her head and swung it down in an arc. The cane smacked against the back of the second male, and the Priestess shuddered in delight.

Follow sweet children..
I'll show thee the way
Through all the pain and
the sorrows.

Weep not poor children...
For life is this way
Murdering Beauty and
Passions.

“You started your career off in the UWA rather.. Impressively, Mister Jones. Six wins and only two losses. One of those wins being the North American Title that you happened to win from Kyle Travis.

Impressive, indeed, Mister Jones.

But what of the man? What can a man such as yourself mean to someone...

Like me?

What makes you think you are even worthy of my... attentions? What do you, a man who likes to use brute force to make a statement rather than the finesse of breaking the mind, have that the others don't?

What is is that makes you... special? Because from where I'm standing, you're not even worthy of being accused of being a thug. You're nothing more than a dirty ghetto rat whose only purpose is to be caged up like an animal and sold to the nearest black market to have your twitchy little nose cut off despite your face.”

She stopped to look up at one of the men that hung from the velvet ropes. She lifted a hand up to caress the man's face. The look of pure love, if one would call it that, filled her eyes and masked her face.

“Do you wish me to stop, Child?”, she asked the man tenderly.

“Please, Mother..May we...”, the first started.

“...have some more?”, the second finished.

“As you wish, my Sons.”, she purred.

Stepping away from the men, she began to hum again. Softly. Hauntingly.

Hush now dear children..
It must be this way
Too weary of life and
the quiet.

Rest now my children..
For soon we'll away
Into the calm and
the quiet.

A few more whistles of the cane were coupled with it smacking against their flesh. More along their backs than anywhere else. She never allowed herself to get too carried away.

“We watched what you did, Mister Jones. Beating down Fraser Freeman. And with such a.. crude.. weapon. Really, Mister Jones. A baseball bat? Is that really the best you have to offer?

Showing your lack of.. breeding. Your lack of.. artistry.

Your lack...”

The word was permeated with the sound of a crack of cane against flesh.

“...of finesse.”

She laughed softly. Reaching a hand up to let her fingers dance along the flesh that had finally spilled it's very essence.

The man before her shuddered in delight as her fingers ran along the opened wound. Only to have her step forward and place a tender kiss against the mark of the Priestess left by the cane's bite.

“Your crude and rudimentary ways aren't without their.. charm, however.

Though, how does a man, who is nothing more than a little boy with mommy issues, come to be the North American Champion?

It wasn't by talent alone, Mister Jones.

It was by sheer..”

A smack of cane to flesh.

“...dumb...”

Another smack.

“...luck.”

It was the Priestess who shuddered this time as the cane bit into the flesh of the second man, this time.

“Come Monday Night Mayhem, you will find out what I am the chosen High Priestess to the Messiah of Destruction.

You will come to know, first hand, why we are to be feared.

You will come to know why you, too, Mister Jones..”

She swung the cane once more.

“...Will break.”

She resumes her humming. Which shifted into that soft singing of hers.

As she hummed and sang, she moved to each man and untied their ropes. Their arms dropped down. And then they each fell to their knees before the Priestess.

Their heads lifted up to reveal the faces of Ramiel and Ananiel. The Bene Elohim twins.

She leaned down to kiss both of their foreheads and stood before them.

Come little children..
I'll take thee away into a land
of enchantment.

Come little children..
The time's come to play
Here in my garden
of shadows...

And the scene fades.