The Offering

"The hunt is everything. I am nothing without it."
Number 43 sat in the hollow of the building, looking upwards into the sprawl. Senses were at their height, picking up every scent, shading, tone, flavor and texture of the night.
Lights shone in the night, men pleaded for their lives, babies cried for their mother's milk. The city of Mort lived its dank, tortured life, knowing that death even awaited it, someday.
Suddenly, olfactory senses registered a contact.
Eyes detected a specific movement.
Ears picked up a breathing pattern.
Skin and hairs detected displacement of air.
The tongue tasted the salty tang of sweat.
"The sacred prey! Goddess, I pray thee, let me be ready!"
Number 43 waited for a count of ten and then proceeded after the shape that passed a moment ago. Success was now in the hands of The Goddess.

Dr. Karl Ehlen walked briskly in the pouring rain. The collar of his jacket was hiked up around his neck, in a vain attempt to keep the rain from going down his back. As he walked, he held a cell phone up to his right ear.
"Damned beast. Whose idea was it for us to try to create that…that…thing?"
A sudden slip on the edge of a curb, caused him to twist at a weird angle. The turn caused him to grit his teeth and vent another expletive.
"Fuck, Kelsey! Why did the beast charge at me that way?"
He placed his left hand on his right side, applying some pressure, but being somewhat gentle about it, as if he favored the area.
"If I had been a little slower, the damn thing would have gored me! I'd rather work on stormers. They will do what you tell them to do and they don't have any fucking horns! Bad enough that it sliced me open with it!"
Earlier, he was taking some readings on a creature that they were working on. This was to be a new pleasure animal. Something like the altered canines and felines.
He had voted for the mini-dragon. Those were cool. The sat on your shoulder, flew around and you could train them to fetch and carry things. There were other creatures being considered. Monkeys, birds, snakes and even some small, yellow weird rat-creature that someone called a "pikachu."
"How did that stuck-up, frigid, bitch Hargreaves won out. I don't know how. It isn't like she's sleeping with the boss or for that matter, anyone at all. And what did she choose? A fucking Unicorn, for Slayer's sake!"
He quickly rounded a corner and kept right on talking.
"Hell, she's always trying to bust my nuts over some dumb shit. I was sitting at morning break trying to eat some breakfast. I had just gotten the butter on my toast and was about to take a bite, when she came in and started complaining about the steroid levels in the tank. McCarty was supposed to handle that, not me. But who did the bitch come and find? Yup, that's right. Fucking cunts are all the same!"
Dr. Elhen suddenly looked up and found himself in a blind alley.
"Dammit, Kelsey! Talking to you got me screwed up and I made a wrong turn. Now on top of everything else, I'm wounded, wet and not I'm lost! Fuck me!"
He heard a noise behind him.
"Kelsey, I've gotta go. I think that there may be trouble…"
He turned around and looked the way that he came and saw;
"…but that is the kind of trouble that I can handle!"
A woman stood at the mouth of the alley. She wore a black, tight-fitting mesh outfit. She had unkempt, wild, bright red hair, a heart-shaped face, with large, green eyes, a button nose and a set of full, red lips. She wore dark blue, knee-high boots and carried a pouch over her left shoulder.
However what made Ehlen stand up and take notice was the fact that she had the longest, most shapely legs that he'd ever seen that led up to what men like him called "breeding hips." Then there was the fact that she had a pair of large, lush, full, breasts that easily rivaled any fashion model or pin-up girl that he'd ever seen on Free-Vee. The outfit was very low cut, showing an expanse of tit-meat for his hungry eyes. Then she shifted her stance and he saw that the outfit was also crotchless.
"Yeah, Kelsey. I'm going to have to call you back. Heh, heh, heh."
He then turned off the phone, placed it into his pocket and then began to walk forward.

Number 43 kept up with the prey for several blocks. Attention was given to the area ahead, waiting for the prey to make it to a safe spot. The roar of the thunder and the voice of the rain would mask any screams that come forth.
Detection was not a problem as the fool kept up an incessant chatter on the talking box in his hand. He couldn't even keep his feet under his path, as he slipped on the road. 43 just continued and maintained a reasonable distance from the man.
After the second time he slipped, the hunter offered praise to The Goddess, that the sacred prey hadn't fallen and killed himself. That would be an unforgivable sin, to allow the prey to fall beyond grace.
Number 43 saw the man round a corner and then knew that the time was close. Soon the prey would be in a place where it could be sacrificed to The Goddess.
Moments later, sure enough the prey entered a dead end. This was the place, the time!
The hunter entered behind the prey and stopped to take in the view.
The prey wasn't sickly looking at all. In fact the scent of the beast was about it…and blood. It had been wounded, fighting a beast, but apparently, he had won! Yes, this would be a worthy one to take to The Goddess.
This prey was chosen because of his intelligence. Others had been taken for certain traits; strength, skill at arms, sensitivity, whatever was required by The Goddess.
Number 43 was suddenly aroused. The prey had turned around and had noticed its presence.
The excitement had begun to trigger the appropriate responses in its' body. The scent had begun to flow from the special places. Soon the trial would begin.

"Hey there. How are you. What's a girl like you doing here?"
Ehlen noticed that a slightly wild expression had come over the girl's face.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you…my name is Karl. What's you name?"
He took several steps closer to the girl. He wasn’t going to let this one get away. A woman dressed like that in the street meant one thing…and he was going to make sure he got it. His anti-disease implant was working, so he could have all the fun he wanted. He didn't give a damn about a contraceptive, that was the woman's problem, in his opinion.
As he took another step, his nose was suddenly filled with a strange, heady, musky scent. He closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment. Then he noticed that his organ began to swell intensely. He'd never been this hard before in his life…he knew that he had to have this woman at any cost!
He stepped closer to her and reached out to touch her and….

Number 43 saw the prey reach forward and knew that it was time.
With a speed borne of a natural predator, the hunter pounced on the prey, pinning it to the ground. At once, the prey's outer coverings were ripped away and discarded.
Number 43 at once, squatted down over the prey and began to perform what The Goddess demanded of it…the sacred rite.

Elhen couldn't believe what had just happened!
The girl was riding him in the alley and all he could do was take it. He couldn't move…well almost couldn't move and the wet concrete and debris was pressing into his back. He reached upwards and took the pair of pendulous breasts in his hands. This only caused the girl to ride him faster.
He could hardly wait to tell Kelsey what had happened. She was still riding him hard when she began to touch his neck…something was going on and then…he couldn't breathe. Something was choking him. He tried to speak but nothing would come out. She kept right on riding him.
"Akk…k…ca…n..t b…b…reathe…he…l…lp!"
He felt himself spiraling into a white, burning light, leaving everything behind as he….

Number 43 had wrapped the holy cord around the prey's neck and had begun the final part of the rite. The prey began to buck wildly underneath the hunter, his violence only spurring number 43 to increase the motion and tighten the holy cord.
Moments later, Number 43 felt that it had the tribute safe inside. The final act of the rite was all that remained to be performed.
Reaching into the pouch at its' side, Number 43 pulled out what appeared to be the hilt of a sword. Pressing a stud on the side, caused a strange displacement to form in the air from the end of the hilt to about three feet away.
With a swift motion, Number 43 swept the hilt at the sacred prey's head. The displacement passed through his neck, cleanly separating his head from the body. The hunter then repeated the action at the sacred organ, also cutting it cleanly from the body. The hunter then took both of these trophies and placed them in the bag at its side.
Number 43 then looked to the sky over Mort. Despite the rain, the moon shone through the sky, adding an unearthly light to the rainy skyscape. This was a good night. Number 43 prayed to The Goddess that the other hunters would have as much success as it did this night. If the offering took, then this would be its last hunt for a while.
Number 43 was glad that it was a good one….

"HEED THE WORD OF THE BROTHER!"
Comments to Beryl Turner
Freelancer for hire and Chairman of the El Lefé Cartel.
Fiction, technical writing, and Game-Related writing my speciality. I also swing a mean sword and I'm a damn good shot, to boot.
www.enteract.com/~milenko/cartel.html
www.chicagogamecon.org

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