Eternal Flame

From the Journal of Victoria St. Christopher:

September 5th, 1879

I have decided to begin this log of my thoughts and experiences now, as we begin our journeys overland through Africa, rather than during the period whilst we were at sea, for two reasons; the first being that sea voyages are commonplace now, and unworthy of note in a historical journal; and the second, that Father has needed me terribly much during the sea voyages, for they do tax him so. Oh, I almost wept to hear the sailors as they made their japes about Father having worse sea legs than a woman--and woman, I might add, is far nicer than the terms they used for me. Sailors dislike having a woman on their boat, Mr. S_____ said. They fear it brings bad luck. "They fear." "They dislike." Oh, the man vexes me so, and vexes me more in the fact that he shields his opposition to me behind the words of others! I know full well that he would prefer that Father travel without me; he thinks that it is unwomanly of me to travel to the wilds of Africa. Well, let him think what he will! I am of age in another week, and this is the Modern Era, is it not? Father needs me to look after him, ever since Mother died, and I cannot do that from our rooms in London. Besides... the chance to see Mount Umbalakata, the Mountain of Light and Darkness... it is a chance that no woman has ever, in her life, had. And very few men at that... the mountain is deep in the remote fastness of the jungle, and those few that have returned have done so in a delirium, speaking of "tunnels of black glass" and "blue flames". But I have no fear; I feel certain that Father and the expedition are up to the task. And if they do not feel the same way about me, well... I shall simply have to convince them of the fact!

October 13th, 1879

I must confess, Dear Reader, that I did something today quite wanton, indeed brazen... as I am sure you understand, the wilds of Africa are now in the beginnings of summer, quite a contrast to the pea-soupers of London this time of year; the heat of the jungle, even in this early summer, is almost intolerable... especially in the clothing I brought with me. So, whilst the expedition slept, I stole into the baggage tent, and made away with an outfit belonging to Mr. S_____! Certainly, he was vexed... he threatened to remove it from me by force, the brute! But Father calmed all worries, and the redoubtable Mr. S_____ was unable to recover his garments. They are certainly much cooler, even if I do feel a trifle exposed in such clothing.

The weather is not the only trial we must endure; indeed, we are beset with a veritable plague of ills. Three of the bearers have taken ill after mosquito bites; they manage, but we did have to leave some of the less essential equipment behind. And the local tribesmen, the Kumbol, have been... actually, they have been seen very little. But we know they are following us. They leave their heathen images in the camp, tied on cords of primitive leather. Father is curious, but I find myself merely repulsed by the hideousness of the carven idols!

November 4th, 1879

Guy Fawkes day tomorrow, Dear Reader, and me with not a bonfire in sight! We have begun our ascent of Mount Umbalakata, and already we have reached to a height wherein the heat of the African summer dissipates in the thin air. At nights, we huddle around what little fire we can make burn in this rarefied atmosphere; even the arm of Mr. S_____ is welcome, when one is this cold! Needless to say, I have already returned his outfit and returned to my own clothing; however, I find that it is still not enough to keep out the wind. The climb is arduous, made even moreso by the confounded lack of air, but not dangerous... indeed, it almost seems as though we have been following some sort of path! Father is thrilled; already he is speculating that this might once have been a place of worship for the Kumbol. We have not seen them at all, though, since ascending the mountain; if it ever was a place of worship, it has since become taboo for them.

I cannot blame them. The mountain offers up a sense of vastness all out of proportion to its size... it seems almost as though it menaces the landscape around it. Mr. S_____ laughs at my feelings; he calls them "hysterical." I do believe he expects me to faint! I will press on, if only to show him up.

November 7th, 1879

We have discovered it! The rocky path we followed did, indeed, lead into the interior of the mountain... and now, we understand the meaning behind the ravings of the madmen who returned from this place. The walls are of basalt, it seems, but polished to a mirror finish by what can only be human hand; Father is now convinced that the Kumbol have made this place for some purpose, although we have yet to find any idols or images to cement our conviction to the proof.

Father is also mapping out the structure of the tunnels, which seems quite convoluted; without his guidance, I feel certain we would quickly become lost, as Mr. S_____ has no sense of direction, and nor do I. The cold, I fear, has not noticeably abated within the caves, as much as we might wish it to; the lack of a wind, though, does help somewhat. I still wish for a warm fire and the comforts of home... but next to the thrill of discovery that awaits us, I find myself less and less caring of the chill, and warmed more and more within by the fires of curiosity.

November 8th, 1879

I am now warmed both within and without, Dear Reader, and the story behind it is most curious. During the evening, our fires dimmed completely; when we awoke, almost numbed with cold, we made an amazing discovery... there was a slight bluish sheen to the walls, a flickering light that could not have been reflected from the outside of the caverns, for it was a moonless night; nor, indeed, from our own extinguished bonfire. Fascinated, we decided to investigate the source of the mysterious illumination. Mr. S_____ led the way, as his eyes had adjusted best to the light; Father went in the rear, using a dark lantern that he might draw his maps without obscuring our will o' the wisp, and that we might not be drawn into the caverns with no means of knowing how we might make our safe exit.

I know not how long we walked, but as we wound our way through the passages, time seemed to lose all meaning. The flicker of the light seemed to draw us ever onwards, beckoning with a voice unheard, and making our legs walk will-they-or-nill-they towards it. I cannot speak for Mr. S____, but I felt almost a... a communion with the flame, as though I were being prepared to receive secrets of such import that they would take one's breath away. Father says he noticed nothing, when I spoke to him in confidence; yet, if he was mapping rather than staring at the flames, that is to be expected.

Eventually, we came into a round chamber, perhaps twenty feet in diameter; the center of the chamber was occupied by a round pit five feet across. Dancing in the pit itself was a vast blue flame, the size of a man, issuing forth from the depths of the fissure in the center of the room; the warmth it gave off was a great comfit to our chilled bones, and I must confess I felt a warmth deeper than any mere raising of the temperature could explain. (Forgive me, Dear Reader, for expressing such vulgar thoughts, but I feel that everything of import must be committed to paper.)

The flame danced in the eyes of all present, but I fear that I was affected most of all... perhaps Mr. S_____ was right, and something of weakness is present in the woman's nature after all, for I walked towards the flames without the least bit of concern, as though certain that they could do me no harm. Luckily, Mr. S_____ managed to recover his own senses enough to snatch me away, and stepped between myself and the azure radiance to keep me from a further entrancement.

We have decided to make camp, here in the chamber. Father believes the flame to issue from some source of natural gas; he suspects it was ignited ages ago, and has maintained itself on its own fuel ever since. The very thought astounds us all, and we look forward to a confirmation of the fact.

November 9th, 1879

I am beginning to worry.

As I stated in my previous entry, we made camp in the Chamber of the Blue Flame (I do not know why, but I feel it necessary now to capitalize the words); the others, for their part, had little trouble sleeping, despite the brightness of the fire... indeed, they were possessed with a curious lethargy... but for myself, I could not sleep for some time. The flame seemed to draw at me with a powerful pull; if Dr. Mesmer is, indeed, correct on his theories of "animal magnetism", I imagine that this is what it must feel like. Scarcely could I close my eyes, before they opened once again to gaze on the flames, as they flickered, dancing and beckoning, rising and falling, their effects mirrored on the wall of the chamber, so that I felt I was within the flames... I felt the warmth rising, as though the very center of my womanhood was being consumed by the flames, and I thought I cried out, but it seemed the only sound I could hear was the gentle hiss of the flames...

Eventually, I suppose, I must have slept, for what follows in my memory could have been naught but a dream. I remember rising to my feet and pulling my clothing off like a shameless trollop, touching the appendages of my womanhood in a brazen frenzy of lust. I remember moaning like a gale, but none of the men awoke or even stirred... (Of course, Father never would. He has always been the soundest of sleepers!) The flames beckoned me further, and I moved towards them; this time, Mr. S_____ slept like the dead, and none could stop me as I stepped into the pit.

From there, the dream becomes stranger yet. I remember a sensation of weightlessness, and as I looked down, I noticed that the heat of the flames was buoying me up above the bottomless depths; yet, strangely enough, I felt no pain and the flames did not scorch me. Indeed, it was the exact opposite; everywhere the flames touched my body, I felt an electric tingling of pleasure; every nerve, every fibre of my being cried out with the most exquisite delight that I could scarce keep hold of my senses. Within the ecstasy, though, I heard a voice; female, yet unlike anything I had ever heard.

Welcome, woman-child, it said, and it seemed that the mere emanations of its voice set up resonances of pleasure throughout my body. I am Katamisumba. I greet you; at last, the eons of waiting are over. I did not know what it was talking about, and I confess I did not care; all I wished was that I continue to feel this pleasure, which was the only thing I cared for in all the world. At that moment, had Father been attacked by a tiger, I fear that I would not have lifted a finger to stop it.

All these ages, all these slaves, and yet... and yet, none have been foolish enough to bring a woman to me. Even the Kumbol, when I held them fast to my will, resisted me enough to send their women away to safety. But now the waiting is over. I shall be free of this place. You shall be my vessel, and through you, I shall have all that is... I wanted to scream out my agreement, that I would gladly be her vessel, if only I could continue to feel this way... perhaps I did, in the dream, but the voice was all I listened to.

I remember crawling from the flames, utterly spent... then I remember no more until waking. But when I woke, the dampness of my womanhood told me that whether dream or reality, it had some hold upon my soul...

November 10th, 1879

As I look upon yesterday's entry, Dear Reader, I wish-- oh, how I wish!-- that I could again dismiss the events of the previous evening as naught but a dream... but sad to say, now, I feel as though I have been confronted with the grim reality of the words that dream-voice has spoken to me, and I find myself in despair for my immortal soul.

Perhaps you see these words as hyperbole, the fearful rantings of a weak and foolish woman; yet, Dear Reader, once I set forth the events of today, you will understand that I have been drawn into the net of something far more vast and terrible than Father or I could have imagined. This Katamisumba has a hold on me, and I fear that I cannot break it.

Father spent most of the day testing the substance of the azure flame, scraping at the edges of the pit to obtain samples of soot that would, he felt certain, establish just how long the fires had burned within these walls. He seemed unaffected by the dancing lights of the fire; perhaps it was his near-sightedness that kept him from falling under whatever spell the flickering radiance cast.

For myself, I found that the flame was more than a fascination, now; indeed, it felt as though the flames burned within my breast, though not with the intensity that they issued forth from the pit. I found myself gazing into space at times, and during those times, it felt as though the ghosts of the rapture I had felt during the dream were brushing up against me once more. I kept hearing a voice on the dimmest edge of hearing, whispering half-heard commands to me, and it was all I could do to keep my hands from rubbing shamelessly at my body once more...

Eventually, I found myself speaking with Mr. S_____. I found some pretext to step into a side tunnel with him; in truth, he seemed far less contentious than he had in previous days. It seemed as though his wits had been dulled, perhaps, as I led him off into the demi-darkness lit only by the reflections of the blue flame.

I thought I was acting of my own volition, I remember, even then... but when he turned to face me, I found myself possessed of a notion that I had never conceived of before. I knew that he had been nothing but an arrogant male, and that he held no regard for my intellect or skills; and yet, I knew, I was now the vessel of a power that saw him as little more than a slave, an object for my pleasure. It was then that I decided to demonstrate this power to him, and as such, I bade him look in my eyes.

"See," I said, my voice taking on the same strange tones as the voice I had heard in my dream, "how the dancing light of the flame is reflected in my eyes." I knew in the back of my head that this was a lie; the flames within my eyes were no mere reflection, but a piece of the sapphire radiance itself! But I continued, calmly. "Watch as they dance and flicker, flicker and dance... they rise, then fall, then rise again, over... and over... drawing you deeper into their warmth... deeper... and deeper... warmer... and warmer... do you feel the warmth?"

In truth, I suspect Mr. S_____ was already half in thrall to Katamisumba, merely from gazing upon her all day as the other men had done. In any event, his eyes were half-lidded and his voice was thick with sleep as he responded, "Yesss... I see... I feel..."

I smiled. I shudder to imagine the cruelty in my expression, but my voice was filled with syrupy kindness as I said, "Wonderful! Now, as you feel the warmth, feel it spreading... spreading through your body... it makes you tired, and lazy, warm, and weak, and the heat spreads, and you feel hotter, and hotter, and weaker, and weaker, and now your clothing, feels so hot, so confining, you can't stand to be so hot, to have that hot hot clothing on your weak, tired, relaxed and lazy body... take off the clothing now..." The fire within me rose, redoubling in intensity, and I knew I had to remove my own clothing as well, even as he stripped down to nothing eagerly. I looked down at his manhood without any fear or shame; indeed, it felt right to do so, as though I was simply evaluating a prize of mine that I was soon to take ownership of... it was hard and erect, and he gasped in arousal and pleasure as I took it in my hand...

"Now," I said, "you feel the heat making you even weaker, weaker still..." he was unsteady on his feet now, and his eyes were tightly shut... "lie back on the floor, and feel the heat even there as you feel the warmth engulf you--" I almost choked on these last words as I slipped his manhood inside myself, feeling an instant of pain as my maidenhead was broken, but not caring even a single bit as I ravished myself on him, rearing up, and bucking down, and feeling the blue flame pass through me into him as we both gasped out our pleasure, and as his self was obliterated by the power of Katamisumba...

And then I found myself moving on, and seducing another of the party, and then another, until I was spent. Thankfully, my Father was not one of the ones I was compelled to enslave; I could not bear to think of that. But I am certain that Katamisumba has no compunctions about using me as it will, and I confess that my pleasure at being a part of its machinations grows with each passing minute, overwhelming my will to resist.

I prayed to the Lord, but if He heard, He did not answer.

November 11th, 1879

This will be my last entry. If it is found, I beg that you, Dear Reader, take heed of the words therein and flee Mount Umbalakata. No joy of discovery could possibly be worth the pain and loss that has followed our travels; no words can express the sorrow and shame I feel now, for I know that I have been responsible for that most heinous of crimes; patricide.

It began as I finished my, or rather Katamisumba's, enslavement of the expedition; by the time I was finished, all of the group save Father were her eternal slaves. They had no will of their own, but only obeyed my commands, like the golems of legend. It was then that Katamisumba made my decision for me; we would leave this place, and proceed down the mountain, there to begin the greater enslavement of the weak and foolish men... and to bring more women into the fold as her vessels and appendages.

Forgive me. I notice her idioms creeping into my own writings. My time must be very short, then, and I shall try to proceed apace. The obstacle to our progress was simply thus: we had no way of knowing how to leave this place. Katamisumba did not know; indeed, the whole of the labyrinth had been constructed as a trap for her by those whose names I am not allowed to know. We could not follow out our guide in; the light led us to Katamisumba, but not away. And, as I have stated, none of us had any sense of direction save Father.

That left only him. I feel sure, now, that Katamisumba was waiting until she had a firmer grasp on me to enslave him; I struggled mightily against her will, but in the end, I did as she was bade and approached him. :"Father," I said, "please look at my eyes. Something's wrong with them." I blush at the base deceit in my voice, even now!

Father looked, but again, the strangest of things occurred. He was not ensnared by the azure flames. I suspect now that he had a single-minded devotion to science that made everything else--Katamisumba, Mother, even me--pale alongside it. He waved off the strange light as a reflection of the fires, and returned to his work.

I almost wept for joy, but Katamisumba's fury grew within me. I felt the flames rise, but these were not the same fires that had made Mr. S_____ and the others a pawn of Her will... instead, I felt my hands roar with burning wrath, the crucibles of purification. I felt them wrap around Father's head, grasping at his temples, and I was forced to watch as...

No. I will spare you the description, though I cannot spare it of myself. Suffice it to say that Father was dead, and I snatched away the map from his smouldering body. But sorrow lent me strength, and I used it to flee the caverns before I was forced to call on my mindless slaves to follow me; Katamisumba may keep their wills from them, but they will rot within the caverns without serving Her will, that I swear!

Father was a scientist, and he passed on his ways of thinking to me; thus it is, I realize that Katamisumba's control decreases with distance, and increases with time. Sadly, the former is limited, while the latter is not; I could flee to the ends of the earth, but She would still own me again, soon enough. Hence it is that I take a single step, and plunge a distance that, though small, will separate me from Her forever; the Lord will forgive, I am sure, for I end my life not from despair nor shame, but as a sacrifice that the world might remain free of Her control. I shall leave this journal at the entrance to the cavern, that any who find it may be warned away...