Hello, my Freaky Darlings,
Here’s a short story for you. I hope you enjoy it.
Tonight, I receive my birthright. It will also be the night my mother takes her final breath.
She says it’s what she wants. She says she’s lived more lifetimes than any of us should ever live. She says she’s ready for the next step in her evolution, but I’m not sure I’m ready for my next step. I mean, would any woman be prepared for any of this?
My mother likes to remind me that we’re not ordinary women, that none of the females in our bloodline have ever been mere mortals and none have ever said no to their inheritance.
I’ll be honest; my mother and I have had our issues over the years. There have been times where I’ve thought about killing her. What woman doesn’t get annoyed with her mother? But that doesn’t mean I actually want to see her die, let alone eat her heart even though she ate her mother’s and would probably eat mine if given the choice.
I understand that it’s tradition and the rewards are beyond imagining, but at what cost? Do I really want to live a thousand years and only give birth once and only to a daughter? What kind of idiot comes up with these rules? To only be allowed to give birth after I’ve lived for nine-hundred of those years? That’s a fucking long time to live on my own. It makes no fucking sense.
Who even wants to live that long? And what about my relationship with Tommy? He wants to have lots of children, and he wants to have them with me, but he’ll be dead soon, and I’m the one who is going to kill him. Mother says that after the ceremony, I’ll be compelled to bite his head off and eat his heart as well. I will apparently do that with every man I fuck from now on. No wonder my relationships with men have always been screwed up. I never had a father figure. Mother always ate them too quickly. Tommy says he wants to stick around for the long haul, although he has no clue what he’s committing to. If he did, he would run away screaming, which he probably should, and I should probably let him. If I really loved him, I would tell him the truth, wouldn’t I?
Mother says coupling with the females in our bloodline is the best sex of any mortal man’s life. That killing them afterwards is actually a kindness since they’ll never be able to get over us and they have such short meaningless lives anyway. Plus, their hearts and brains will keep me young and beautiful for centuries and will prevent me from making the final change before it’s my time.
If I don’t go through with the ceremony tonight, I will revert back to our original, monstrous, form. If I don’t do this a far worse blood-lust will consume me, and the consequences will be dire. Or so Mother says. If I don’t kill Mother tonight and eat her heart she won’t be able to go through the next step in her evolution, so not only will I become some unknown and unspeakable horror, but so will she.
But if no female in our family has ever said no, then how would she know for sure what will happen if I don’t go through with the ceremony tonight?
I’ve asked her that several times over the years, but she’s never really been able to give me a satisfactory answer. She just gives me the same crap about how it is written in the journals of our ancestors, and therefore it must be true. We all keep journals of our long, lonely, walk through the centuries. These journals are passed down from mother to daughter just before the ceremony, so I have no clue what’s written in them. It’s also why I’m documenting my thoughts here for the first time. I’ve never been the keep a diary sort of girl, but now I have to. So not only do I inherit this fucking curse but also a library of old diaries which I’m expected to look after and then hand down to my daughter when the time comes.
It’s just such fucking bullshit.
But … There’s that infernal but that always results in trouble.
The rewards are outstanding, but I’m not entirely sure they’re entirely worth it, even though Mother says they are. I guess the alternative is also far worse.
I really hate my ancestors right now.
Why would they have chosen this fate for any of us and left me with an impossible choice? Why couldn’t I have been born into a typical family?
I now only have a few hours to make a final decision on something I’ve been wrestling with my entire life. The night I’ve been dreading is finally upon me, and I have to make a choice. But I have to make it without all the facts. I have to make it on blind faith and hope that Mother has told me everything.
Mother has also chosen my dress for the ceremony. I have to admit it’s surprisingly beautiful – red silk, ankle-length, with a slit up the thigh and a plunging neckline. Damn sexy actually. Mother, on the other hand, will be naked. Not sure that’s a sight I want to have to deal with or will ever be able to unsee.
Anyway … Mother is calling me. Apparently, there is some or other fucked-up cleansing ritual we both need to go through tonight that involves sacrificing some poor goat, drinking its blood and then eating its entrails. It’s hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, I was contemplating a vegetarian diet. I better go before she decides to sacrifice Tommy. I’ll be back after the ceremony to let you know how or if it went.
I’m back. The whole thing was seriously gross, and I’m covered in blood, literally from head to toe. I think I even have blood in places I didn’t know it was possible to get blood in. It’s ridiculous. At least I now understand why Mother chose a red dress for me.
Speaking of Mother, cutting her heart out was probably the least bad thing that happened tonight. I’m not sure where or how to begin to explain any of it. I’m also not entirely sure how I feel. Suffice it to say; she lied about pretty much everything.
Maybe I should start with Mother and her evolution. It’s definitely not what I thought it would be. Couldn’t she have had the decency to prepare me for that? It’s not like she didn’t have time to tell me what was going to happen, but no, she had to keep it as a surprise. I think I might even have heard her laugh or cackle when I screamed, and she turned into that thing. At least I don’t have to deal with having to go through that particular transformation for a thousand years unless that too was a lie.
I will never be able to unsee her naked flesh splitting open. And the odour. Oh, unholy Goddess, that smell will haunt me forever. Is that what a thousand years of putrification smells like? Is that what I’m going to smell like when my time comes?
And Tommy. Poor, sweet, innocent Tommy. He wasn’t perfect, but he really didn’t deserve to die like that. He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, but Mother lured him here with false promises of a special dinner. How was he to know that he would be on the menu? He didn’t actually taste too bad once I got over the whole idea that I was chowing down on my boyfriend. Plus, in my defence, I just couldn’t help myself. The hunger simply overwhelmed me. I couldn’t help it.
Next time I will know what to expect and will be better prepared. At least I can still eat regular food. I don’t have to eat man-flesh to survive. I will only be compelled to be a man-eater when I’m horny, so I’ll just have to control those urges. I can do that. I can stay away from men. I can survive without getting laid for as long as possible. I can control myself. Really, I can.
Mother is still slithering around downstairs in the ceremonial chamber. I locked her in there – tentacles swishing all over the place. She’s even got barbs on the end of those things. One of them wrapped around my ankle as I was running away from her. It stung like the bloody blazes. At least I know she can still feel pain. She squealed when I sliced off the tentacle that had wrapped itself around my ankle.
I can’t let her loose on the world, not looking like a human-size Cephalopod. Although, I don’t quite understand how she’s still alive without her heart. It was weirdly fascinating watching it beat in my hand before I took my first bite, but then her ribs started growing and changing. Then her skin took on this sickly, pale hue, and her joints got all weird. Then she sprouted those tentacles and shit. It was like watching a scene from The Thing.
I don’t understand how any of this is happening. She was supposed to die and join all the other women in our family in some otherworldly ghost-like realm like Yoda and the Jedis. That’s what she promised me would happen. Did she really lie to me about something that huge? Or did I do something wrong to cause her to change into that monster? Is this my fault? Did I take too long to eat her heart? Did I say the words wrong?
I’ve started searching through my ancestors’ journals, but so far nothing I can find is even remotely helpful, and most of the fucking pages are blank.
I’m sitting here like an idiot writing all this shit down, with a pile of dusty old diaries that have barely been written in strewn across the floor. Why the fuck am I even writing this down? Seriously? What’s the point? Everything she ever told me was a lie.
She’s howling now. I’m not sure if it’s in pain or if she’s laughing at me or if she’s hungry.
And now she’s banging on the door. Mother has surprising muscle control on those tentacles.
I think I just heard the door splinter.
Shit! She moves fast. She’s already out on the street, and all the neighbours are screaming.
I don’t know what to do.
Do I just keep writing all this down in the hopes that someday my daughter, if I live long enough to have one, finds it and somehow magically understands? Or do I do what so many of my ancestors did? Just stay silent and keep the secret? Should I embrace this curse and kill everyone in the area, so they don’t tell anyone else about what happened here?
Oh crap! Someone is filming Mother.
Okay nevermind, Mother ate her before she could upload it on the net.
Fuck it! I don’t really have a choice. I might as well just embrace it. Our family secret is being aired out for all the neighbours to see. I need to do something about that. The rest of the world can’t know about my family or me. Not if I want to live.
I should probably clean up after Mother and put her out of her misery. I saw some pretty heavy-duty weapons downstairs that should do the job. After I’ve dispatched with any of the surviving members and made sure they didn’t take any photos or film anything, I’ll leave town. I always wanted to travel.
Anyway … this will probably be my last entry in here.
To my future daughter, I’m genuinely sorry about the carnage.
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