Hallon Seed Day 02

The only button left was one at the shoulder near Mark. "Wait," he said. He was still very uncomfortable about this. Julia looked at him, expectantly, but there was only a silence which Mark's thoughts had failed to fill with words.

"Mark." Julia started to say something, but stopped.

The demon turned toward him, held his face in its hands and looked Mark directly in the eye.

"This form is as a statue hewn from stone. Pottery molded from clay. I have witnessed and created more death, carnage, and depravity than you can imagine, and have delighted in all of it." It paused for a second. "I am not a child."

It waited a moment more, then released Mark's face and proceeded to unfasten the remaining button itself. Mark resisted the urge to look away, knowing that he must face this reality head-on.

The garment dropped to reveal the naked body. It was completely hairless, but had small, yet distinct breasts. Mark felt like he was staring at a fourteen year old girl. This is not a child, he repeated in his mind. The body was noticeably dirty, but still far cleaner than the hands and feet.

"How's the water," Julia asked.

Mark observed that steam was no longer rising from the water. He dipped a finger in and out quickly. It did not burn him. He put is hand in and moved it around.

"It's still kinda hot, but it's not going to scald you."

"Go ahead and see if it's alright for you," Julia said to the demon. It stepped out of the fallen garment and over to the tub. It dipped a toe and winced a little, but slowly eased in its whole foot, then the other. "Okay, then?"

"Yes," said the demon. "Thank you."

Julia picked up a rag and the bar of soap and walked over. She wet and lathered the rag, and began wiping down the small body. When the demon had acclimated to the temperature of the water, it sat down in the tub.

Mark watched Julia smiling and offering little instructions. Soon, even the demon began to enjoy the bath. It apparently had not been cleaned in over a century. Even a demon in human skin might appreciate the feeling.

"Close your eyes," Julia instructed, and when the demon complied, she squeezed the soaked rag out over the demon's head. "This might take some time," Julia laughed. "Get us something to dip water with," she said to Mark.

He stood and went up to the kitchen. The disposable cup was still on the counter, and he was reminded of what he would invariably have to do again, at some point. He took the cup and returned. Julia's smile waned just for a second, when she saw what he had chosen, but she took it and repeatedly scooped up soapy water and dumped it over the demon's head.

Julia lathered her hands and ran the bar over the shorter, much more manageable head of black hair, set the bar aside, and then dug in with her fingers to massage the demon's scalp thoroughly.

"Oh," Julia said, surprised. She ran her thumbs over two spots on the demon's head. She moved hair aside and looked closer. "Are you kidding me," she said, overjoyed by whatever it was she saw. "Do you seriously have little horns?"

"Yes," the demon replied, with less excitement.

"Look at this," she looked to Mark. "She actually has little nubbly horns." She looked back at the object of her joy. "That's so freakin' adorable."

Mark leaned over for a better view and, even though they were hard to make out clearly, being the same color as the hair, he did see little bumps about one inch high and about one and a half inches in diameter at the base.

Julia began pouring cupfuls of the brown soapy water over the demon's lathered hair.

"You're going to need more clean water and a towel," Mark realized.

"Yes we will," Julia continuing to enjoy herself. Mark stood, picked up the large pot and the pail, and left to gather what they needed.

He decided to only warm the water, instead of boiling it, and he found a towel of his own in the jeep. He dipped the pail into the heating pot, and brought it and the towel down, and then returned for the pot itself.

Julia instructed the demon to sit on its knees and hang its head over the pot of clean water, and then she used the cup to collect and pour it over the demon's soapy head. When the hair was as rinsed as that water was going to get it, she collected from the pail and rinsed it further.

"Stand up and let's scrub those feet," Julia said, happily. The demon obeyed. "We'll take care of those nails when your dried off," she added.

"Okay," the demon said, sounding just like a happy little girl, momentarily set Mark on edge, but he pushed it out of his mind.

"Oh, hey, Mark," Julia said. "Bring down one of the camping chairs for her to sit in while I do her nails."

Mark ascended the stairs, yet again, unsure about Julia's behavior in all of this. She seemed to be more successfully accepting the demon's non-human status than he was, and yet she was treating it like she was having a fun time babysitting a child. Maybe she was just doing a better job of compartmentalizing, at the moment.

He folded up her chair, brought it down, and unfolded it again in a convenient spot.

Satisfied that the demon had been adequately washed, she had it step one foot at a time into the remaining pail water to rinse its feet. She dried its hair enough to keep it from dripping and then wrapped the towel around the demon's body, and instructed it to sit in the chair.

Julia held the demon's feet, looking at the awful toenails. "My goodness, the state of these." She shook her head and sighed, before resolving to clean them up as well.

Mark took the opportunity to go ahead and start disposing of the bath water. He filled the pail and started back toward the stairs.

"You may dispose of it on the floor in the center of the room, if you wish," the demon said, pointing that direction.

Mark paused and looked. "Uh, okay. Thank you." That seemed odd.

"That is where Phillip always disposed of the water," the demon added.

So, Phillip used to bathe her, then? That lent some credibility to the demon's claims. It could also be a lie to serve that very purpose. Mark dumped the water there, regardless, and it all drained between the floorboards, splattering onto the dirt below.

Mark sat back down near the demon, and decided to get more information.

"How often do you need to be... fed?"

"Once a day is sufficient, when I am not starving. That is why I wanted more from you." The demon looked him in the eye. "I... apologize for my behavior."

Mark just nodded his acceptance. He wanted to ask some good questions. He needed questions that might potentially allow him to catch the demon in a lie. How arrogant is that, he laughed, internally. Hoping to outsmart a demon who may well be older than all of humankind.

How many intricate plans can someone develop during a century of solitude, just waiting for a foolish mortal to happen by?

"Do you sleep?"

"I CAN sleep. My body does not require it. My mind..." The demon's eyes wandered a moment and then returned to Mark's. "It is better if I do sleep, although my dreams are often... unpleasant."

Marked looked over to the nest in the corner. "What did that used to be? Your bed, I mean."

"That was once a mattress. When Phillip never returned, and I was left in darkness, in both anger at him, and in order to keep myself occupied, I dragged that mattress from its place, and proceeded to tear it to pieces. I then tore those pieces into smaller pieces. And then picked apart those smaller pieces, thread by thread."

"When there were no more pieces, I plucked the hairs from my head. I counted them. I have 149,763. I had hoped that the number would be different the second time, but it was not. I had hoped that I might eventually forget how many there were, but I later discovered that I do not forget anything."

"I will forever remember everything that I have, and will ever, experience in this form, Mark." A tear rolled down the demon's face, but its flat expression did not change.

"How can you bear that," Julia asked, somberly.

"One learns." The demon looked down at the freshly manicured toes on its right foot. "To focus on the good. However little of it there may be."

Mark was finding it more difficult to doubt this creature. Difficult, but not impossible. He decided to try a more direct approach, to see what would happen.

"Are you lying to us?"

"Mark," Julia disapproved.

"I understand your doubt." The demon looked at him again. "I also suspect that you know that is a foolish question. I will not insult you with an answer."

Yeah, that didn't help at all. Back to basic knowledge.

"Do you know why knowledge of your name was erased from your memory?"

"I do not know that either, but it does seem that there would be no reason to do that unless it was of some importance. Phillip had mentioned having books of demonology. Perhaps they might be of assistance."

"I saw some in the study," Mark said. "I'll look them over, tomorrow. See if I can find anything."

The demon turned its blank expression to Julia working on its fingernails.

"I'm going to be done with this pretty soon," Julia informed. "I would love to have a shower, later."

"Wouldn't mind one myself," replied Mark. There was a silence, and then Julia kicked his foot. "Oh, right." Mark stood up, grabbed the pot and pail, and trudged once more up the stairs, hearing Julia ask a question of her own.

"So, do you ever need to piss or shit?"

"I do not."

"You're lucky on that."

"I suppose that is true."

Mark shook his head and laughed quietly, walking out of earshot. She really is something, he thought. As he left the back door and headed to the water pump, he also thought, I'm going to be doing this a lot more, aren't I?

He set more water to boil, and Julia poked her head through the door again.

"You didn't happen to bring a tank top that you don't mind sacrificing, did you?"

"No. I don't wear tank tops."

"Hmm," she replied and headed toward the front door.

Marked picked up the camping shower box up off the floor and looked it over for instructions. They looked pretty simple, so he went back out to find a good spot to hang it up. As luck would have it, there was a large hook bolted into the house's overhang, which was part of the main structure, so he felt confident that it would easily bear the weight of the water bag.

It was right outside the back door, so he would not have to carry it far, and was above some paving stones, so there was no concern about standing in mud.

Mark did other little preparatory things, occasionally seeing Julia rush by, one direction or another, apparently trying to make the demon feel more comfortable.

He filled the shower bag, happy in the knowledge that he would get to use it later.

"Come help me move this shelf," Julia said, suddenly behind him.

Mark turned around, confused and curious. She was already headed back down to the basement, so he just followed.

"I want to either move it to the other side of the room or just break it down completely and haul it out," Julia said, looking at the dilapidated unit from various angles.

The demon was still sitting in the canvas camping chair, but was now dressed in a pair of small shorts and a shirt that had been cut open along the top and reaffixed with ties of material strips cut from the bottom of the shirt. The demon's nails were cut short and filed, and looked good, apart from some slight discoloration.

The demon sat with a blank expression, just watching Mark and Julia. Mark, half amused, half disturbed, noted that the creature looked even more like a normal young teenager.

"What was on this shelf, anyway," Mark asked the demon.

"Various instruments of torture," it replied, flatly.

Mark and Julia were silent and motionless for a moment, a bit shocked by the revelation, and perhaps a little by the tone in which it was delivered.

"Okay, this is going out," Julia decided. "Break it, take it out, and use it for firewood." Mark offered no disagreement.

After some time and effort, it was cleared away, along with the disgusting nest of hair and thread. Julia swept the floor. The fire in the trough, inexplicably continued to burn bright. Marked stepped away, on occasion, to attend to the boiling water.

"Now comes the hard part," Julia said, with hands on hips, looking at him.

"Say what?" That sounded terribly ominous to Mark, considering everything he'd done already.

"We need to get the mattress from the bedroom and bring it down here." Emphasized the two locations by pointing.

Mark's shoulder's dropped with his jaw. "Wha...?"

"I'll go clean it off," Julia said, walking past him and up the steps.

"Fuck me," Mark said to himself, suddenly feeling much more exhausted.

Julia gone, Mark looked at the demon staring back. All of this was starting to feel like much more trouble than it was worth, given that the demon could still possibly be pure evil.

"And what are your feelings about all this?"

The demon's eyes wandered in thought for a moment, and then returned to Mark's. "I greatly appreciate everything that you and Julia are doing for me."

"You certainly don't look it," Mark accused. He wanted to add that it looked like the demon had just considered what would be the most strategic answer as opposed to the honest one, but he chose to keep that to himself.

The demon opened its mouth to speak, but said nothing a moment. "My joy is the reason I am here. I am... afraid."

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier," Mark noted.

"I came very close. I let my guard down," the demon replied.

Mark offered no response of any kind. He just looked at the demon's eyes for some change. Seeing nothing, he just walked away. He did not want to judge the creature unfairly, but everything it had offered seemed very convenient. Or just true.

Better to err on the side of hope, he supposed. And Julia seemed to be benefitting greatly from the opportunity to help this thing. He figured that alone made it worthwhile. If it helped her heal, then he didn't want to stand in the way.

But carrying that giant lumpy mattress down two flights of stairs? For fuck's sake... Maybe it'll fall apart and spare him the trouble.

It did neither. It ripped a little, in a few places, but Mark was astonished that it survived the trip. They placed the mattress on the floor, using the wall between the stairs and the corner, where the nest had been, as a headboard.

"Okay, so where are we sleeping, now," Mark asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Here," Julia answered, to Mark's surprise. She stepped over to him and put her hands on his chest. Looking him in the eyes. "We're not leaving her alone." She raised herself onto her toes, gave him a kiss, and then headed back upstairs.

He considered the possibility that she had been hypnotized, or something like that, by the creature, but he had to admit, that none of her choices had truly surprised him. This was all exactly what she would have done anyway.

He went up to help her carry down the makeshift bedcovers and put them back in their previous arrangement.

"The shower is ready, by the way," Mark mentioned, after the bed was made.

"That's excellent news." Julia wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know you've done so much, today. Do you want first go?"

"No, you go ahead. I just want to sit down a while." He rubbed up and down her arms.

"Okay." She gave him another quick kiss. "See you in a bit." She parted from him and left.

The demon was now laying in the middle of the still-made bed, just staring at the ceiling. Mark sat in the canvas camping chair and relaxed, letting the relief wash over him. His legs and his back thanked him.

After a few minutes, he decided to prepare some food for Julia. He went up to the kitchen and started rummaging through the provisions box. A sound like rain caught his attention, so he looked toward the windowed door outside. Through the time-browned doily curtain he saw the vague shape of Julia in motion.

He was drawn to her. The knowledge that she was just on the other side of that door, naked. He stared as he pushed off his shoes with his toes and pulled his shirt over his head. He unfastened his jeans and left everything on the floor where it landed, then slowly moved toward her.

Every step made his view clearer. Her back was to him. Sound was his nemesis, defeated only by care and time, and then there was all of her. Her fingers in her hair. His hands on her waist startled her, but his lips on her neck calmed her. She froze and wavered for an instant.

She turned her face to him and found his lips. She turned her body to his and pushed her fingertips outward along his ribs to hold him. She inhaled deeply as she found the will to break from him.

She pick up the bar of soap, that waited nearby, and then moved it across the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his arms. He stood motionless as she picked up the soaked rag and walked around behind him and wet his skin. The bar of soap moved over his back.

For a moment he she pulled away, but he waited, and then felt the soapy softness of the rag move across him. She moved slowly, smoothly, almost like a meditation. Across his buttocks, down his legs and back up, diverting just short of his growing erection. Up his stomach and chest from behind, she traveled every inch of him... almost.

Back down to the crease of his thighs. Even the space behind his scrotum. He began to ache for the feel of her where she had not yet been.

She moved to his side, and he raised a hand to the back of her head, holding her face in the frame of his arm. Pressing her forehead to the side of his mouth, he offered a half-kiss and open-mouthed breathes as a plea, and she granted his request.

He moaned against her as the cloth wrapped around and along his rigid length. Back and forth. It felt as if it were trying to steal his breath.

Her palm was suddenly on his buttock, and the length of her index finger wedged along his crevice. A little deeper. I little further under, until she feathered against the base of his scrotum.

"Oh, my god, Julia." He held her now to steady himself, as the cloth moved faster, bringing him closer to the edge. She moved her head down slightly and bit gently into his flexed bicep.

With perfect timing, her hand beneath gripped, as if she had total control, and perhaps she did. As if rolls of thunder to accompany the sound of rain, his grunts verberated, and were soon followed by streaks of white through the air.

"Julia," he breathed, at the first opportunity. She guided him forward, into the falling water, and he released her. She pushed the rag up his body to his face and head, and he held his eyes closed for her.

When she had rinsed him, she turn the water off, and stood before him. She looked into his eyes a moment, and then embraced him tightly.

"Thank you, Mark," her words vibrating against his chest. "Thank you for everything."

His attention was divided between her words and her lower belly pressed against his still half-erect penis, but he did notice that she said his name. The last time, he was uncertain, but this time he could rest assured that it was truly him to whom she was grateful, and so he returned the embrace fully.

She used the towel, which had dried the demon, to dry them both, and then they went back inside. She hung the wet towel up near the stove, and then he watched her walk naked to the foot of the stairs, presumably to go to the bedroom for some clean clothes.

Once she was out of view, he followed to do the same, and to reacquire the view. Her buttocks alternated up and down with each step. Though mostly hidden in shadow, her mound peeked in and out of view. Mesmerized, he followed.

As she entered the room, she glanced back at him and smiled. Again, she was momentarily out of view, but his patience held. She was squat on her toes, at her duffle bag. His heart twisted at the view of her from behind. Her legs spread wide, exposing her mound with its lips parted. He longed for that morning sun to beam through. Alas, it was nearing dark.