Losing My Religion

Elspeth fell to her knees once again, this time directly in front of Jocasta. She leaned forward and inhaled deeply, shuddering once again as the drug sent another surge of pleasure through her brain. Jocasta normally reveled in this part of the ritual above all others, loving the discoveries of just how a new priestess could pleasure her in new ways, but all Elspeth's tongue made her think about was just how much she would miss Meredith.

Poor Meredith. Why hadn't Jocasta cried, when she buried Meredith's body in an unmarked grave? Why did she want to cry now, when all she could think about then was how good it was that Meredith had given so much of herself to the Goddess? Why did it seem so unfair now that Meredith was gone forever while the Goddess stayed young and undiminished? The Goddess was the Goddess and accidents happened. That had comforted her then, why didn't it comfort her now?

All devotion flowed to the Goddess. Jocasta clung to that thought. If the Goddess demanded all of Meredith's gifts, then Meredith's duty was to serve. All devotion flowed to the Goddess.

But all life didn't flow from the Goddess, her traitor thoughts spat back. Not to Meredith, it didn't.

Jocasta cried out with a passion she didn't feel, pretending release simply to stop Elspeth from bringing these memories to the fore. The other sisters took Elspeth into their arms, then, washing her body with soft cloths and warm water to clear away all the mud and blood from her body. Elspeth shook and trembled as they washed every inch of her, but all Jocasta could think about was that this part of the ritual served nothing but the sensitive nose of the Goddess. She hated having animal blood tracked into Her chambers.

Finally, Elspeth was washed and cleaned and stood before her, mewling slightly with pleasure. Between the drugs and the hands all over her body, Jocasta suspected she'd come at least once. "It is time, Elspeth," Jocasta said, taking a heavy iron key on a chain from the stand. "You and I will journey together to meet the Goddess. I will bring you into Her presence for your true investment, to begin your true service to her." She hung the chain around Elspeth's neck. "You are not a High Priestess yet, Elspeth. But by the time your sisters look upon you again, you will be." She took Elspeth by the hand and led her to the inner door.

She unlocked it with her own key--Elspeth would use her key in future journeys to meet the Goddess, but this first time, it was Jocasta's duty to lead her. Like a cow to the slaughterhouse, she thought, no longer even surprised by her own blasphemies. She felt no joy this time, no passion. She felt nothing but shame and sorrow as she closed the door behind them.

They walked in silence down the dimly-lit passage, with only a few widely spaced torches to guide them. Jocasta felt like every step took an eternity. She couldn't explain it; all she wanted to do was turn around and run back through the door, back to the brighter lights of the ritual chamber and from there out to daylight. But why would she fear the Goddess? She loved the Goddess. She always loved the Goddess. She couldn't not love the Goddess.

"It's just a chemical, you dumb bitch."

The same words again, the same voice. This time, without distractions, it seemed even clearer in her mind. She could almost see him, standing there in the rain, the blood on his hand mingling with the trickles of water. Had he known he was going to die, then? He must have. She could still hear it in his voice, years later.

She had killed him, then. She must have. She wished she could remember why. In the broader sense, of course, it was because he had displeased the Goddess, but--

Jocasta suddenly felt her gorge rise at the realization that she had killed people simply because they displeased the Goddess. She looked down at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. She'd known, she'd always known, but this was the first time she'd really thought about it and it sickened her. The Goddess had made her a murderer. She'd killed Bert, she'd killed Donald--

"Why didn't you run?" she whispered under her breath.

She didn't even realize she'd said it out loud until Elspeth said, in confused tones, "Priestess?"

Jocasta blinked in the dim light. She'd forgotten Elspeth was even there. "Nothing, nothing," she muttered irritably.

But it wasn't nothing. She knew why Donald hadn't run. He'd wanted to save her. He'd known damn well just how many accidents there were, just how careless the Goddess was, and he wasn't going to run away without trying to take her with him. So he'd told her his plans, and she'd stabbed him in the shoulder with a bronze knife.

"Oh God, Jo, snap out of it," he'd said, knowing full well that she wouldn't. "It's just a chemical, you dumb bitch. She bites you, it gets into your bloodstream through her saliva, and suddenly you can't think of anything but how happy she makes you. But it's not real, not like what we've got. It's just a fucking chemical, it isn't love. Love is buying someone chocolates and flowers, not gutting some poor bastard like a fish because he knows too much. She's not a goddess, Jo. She's a parasite--"

Jocasta hadn't given him the chance to say anything else.

She stopped. They were inside the Inner Sanctum now, past the final set of doors that the Goddess had left open for them and into Her private chambers. She'd walked right in without thinking about it, and even now the years of habit and ritual were telling her to bring Elspeth to the altar to await the Goddess, and to douse the torches, and to let Her--oh, God, she was about to let it drink Elspeth's blood--

"Run," she whispered.

"Wh-what?" Elspeth said, bewildered by the sudden change of events.

"Run," Jocasta said louder, more urgently. "Run now, before it gets here, oh God, we've both of us got to run--"

The torches went out. The doors slammed shut with a boom. Jocasta heard as much as felt the breeze whip past her as the Goddess came into the room.

"Darling Jocasta," whispered the voice in the darkness, "what's wrong? It's not like you to forget the ritual." The voice was honey-sweet in her ears, but Jocasta knew that it had heard every word she'd said. She felt fear, chilling her down to the marrow.

"I--I know what you are," she cried out wildly into the shadows. But the word wouldn't come out. Her throat closed up with terror and she could only think it over and over in a panicky chant in her mind. vampire vampire vampire vampire

"Oh, Jocasta," it said. "This is my fault, my love, my pet, my own." She couldn't see it, but she knew it could see her as bright as day in the pitch darkness. "I've been neglecting you. You have been away too long, Jocasta. I've given you so many duties and tasks and errands that you've forgotten me." Jocasta heard a brief sliver of a scream that broke off into a long, low moan of pleasure, and she knew that it must have found Elspeth. Jocasta wasn't sure whether she hoped the girl survived or not. Would death be better than the life she had been brought into?

"Please," Jocasta whimpered, "I'm begging you, I...I promise I won't tell anyone." The words sounded foolish in her ears. She knew that she should be begging for a quick and merciful death, but she'd never wanted to live so bad.

"Oh, I know, sweetest girl, sweetest pet...I know you won't." The voice was terrifyingly close now, but Jocasta couldn't move. Fear rooted her to the spot. "I'm so sorry, dearest. This is my fault...but I'm hungry enough to fix it easily."

For an instant, there was pain. Jocasta felt the fangs sink into her thigh, and it hurt for just the barest moment before she felt the lips sucking away at the tiny wound, the wound so close to her...her cunt. Jocasta bucked forward with pleasure, all her nerves alive with sudden and languorous bliss as she felt the Goddess suckling at her body. It felt so good, like an orgasm that never stopped, like a dream she never had to wake from, and her fear melted away in that glorious eternal instant.

That was the best part. She'd been so frightened, she couldn't remember what she was afraid of but the Goddess took all the fear away and Jocasta was so grateful that she wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees and worship this wonderful, eternal being that had taken all her cares and worries away. She would do anything for Her to keep feeling this way forever, free of all doubt and fear and uncertainty. She felt an utter devotion spreading through her body to the blessed creature that had held her and made her safe, and she wished she could worship Her forever as a supplicant, as a priestess...

Then Jocasta remembered that she was Her priestess, and She came again and again at the thought.

Afterwards, Jocasta lay there for a long moment, cuddled up to her Goddess' stolen warmth. Elspeth lay on the other side of them, recovering from her own gift--Jocasta was more used to service, but the Goddess had drunk deeper of her than She had from Elspeth. Neither one of them felt like moving, and the Goddess sighed happily as She curled up to them.

"I love You," Jocasta whispered.

"It's not love," a voice seemed to whisper in her hear. But Jocasta ignored it.

THE END