Chapter Twelve: Holy Mother
The Maternal Bible: Chapter Ninety-three, Page Two-hundred:
In the end-times, the angels will come from the heavens to join the resplendent hordes of divinity, the harbingers will come in white robes, and a champion will be selected from the mortals. The devil will raise his horde, and a champion of deception will rival that of God. The battle will rage in the heavens as it does on earth, and the cataclysm will break the very pillars of existence. All will fall, or all will rise. There is only one enemy, and he is not the Unholy Father.
Part One: Cataclysm
ANGELA
The world had fallen away. There was only his consuming lips and tasting tongue, his pressing chest and rubbing crotch, his exploring hands and squeezing fingers. I gave myself wholly to him, and would've consummated the act without a second thought, but Brandon had the wherewithal to pick me up, and avoid disaster. It had taken him considerable force to separate us, though it felt like most of that force had been exerted on himself. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild with desire, a desire that had already imprisoned me.
"Take a deep breath," he said, his blue eyes an inch from mine, his lips brushing me as he spoke. I was standing in his tree, and there was a woman beside me. She was curvaceous, but not vulgarly so; her breasts sloped gracefully from her chest before standing proudly to shadow her flat belly, and her glutes rounded succulently from her thin waist, perched above the smiling crease of her thighs. She had strawberry-blonde hair and freckled pale skin, but both were a bioluminescent blue in the ethereal light. That woman was me, but I wasn't her. Not yet. I took the air from Brandon's mouth, and my heart decelerated. He reached behind me, and carefully touched his fingers to the nape of my neck. I felt a pleasant pressure there, then an odd invasion. It crept up my spine, filtered through the base of my skull, and seeped cold euphoria into my brain, lowering my heartrate even more, making me languid and accepting.
"You drugged me," I giggled.
"I did," Brandon smiled, tugging gently on the vine that had just imbedded itself into my nervous system.
"You didn't need to do that to get what you want," I grinned, biting my lip and shifting my naked hips for him. Brandon couldn't stop himself from grabbing those hips, and forcing my body against him. I moaned my need into his voracious kiss, lifted one leg and wrapped it behind him, undulating my crotch against his. He balled his fists into my hair, and tore my face away. I gasped desperately, mouthing for his oral caress, staring drunkenly into his wild eyes. He forced his gaze away before he lost himself again, and he touched my chest, my belly, and my back. Glowing vines snaked up my body, and penetrated me where his touch had signaled. They pushed into my belly, meandered beneath the flesh, and attached themselves to my vitals. There was no pain, as the first vine had taken it all, and I only stared in fascination as I was invaded. I didn't know why it turned me on.
"Are you ready?" Brandon whispered.
"Do it," I breathed. The last vine pushed through my sternum, and stuck into my heart. Diamond became a part of the tree, and I became nothing once again. I floated out of the body that had been my home for the past three days, and when I looked down at it, I felt a sense of loss. Diamond's body had been a wonder to occupy, and her mind, even more so. I would miss her. Then I connected eyes with Brandon, and all the melancholy left me. I didn't even register the horror of being bodiless. I only saw him as I floated down, and took what was mine. My ethereal hands slid through the lengths of my arms, my ethereal feet dropped into my new heels, and my ethereal eyes focused behind my new retinas. I took my first breath, and drummed my first heartbeat. Feeling surged into me, the blood pumping through my veins, delivering life to muscles that contracted beneath the flesh, the flesh singing with sensation. The vines that preserved the vessel withdrew, and I stumbled forward, and landed into Brandon's arms. I smelled him with my nose, felt him with my skin, and when I turned my face upward, I tasted him with my tongue. I was sloppy, unpracticed with my new mouth, but I soon recovered those old instincts, and the memories of the flesh came roaring back. I knew this body. I'd walked in it for ten years. It was older now, and there were differences, but this was mine. I blinked back my first tears, and I expressed my gratitude, my euphoria, and my love with all the passion I could bring.
"Holy shit," I gasped, "I don't have a dick anymore."
"Those are your first words?" Brandon laughed into my mouth.
"If you suddenly lost your penis, what would you say?" I laughed back.
"I'd just go looking for it," Brandon sniggered. "It's been all over town; someone's bound to know where it is."
"You slut," I bit his grinning lip.
"Oh, here it is," Brandon chuckled, pushing his crotch between my legs, "I left it in my sister."
"Oh... fuck," I hissed, breathing heavily.
"What?" Brandon asked.
"We're goddamn rednecks!" I exclaimed. "All those city people who used to call us sister-fucking-cow-tippers were right!"
"When you're a god, it's just 'keeping the bloodline pure,'" Brandon laughed, undoing his belt.
"No," I whispered on his lips. I pulled his face away so that I could look at it. The soft glow of the bioluminescence played across his features, painting his pointed nose, pronounced chin and high cheeks with a blue tinge, and exaggerating the color of his eyes. I ran my hand through his strawberry-blonde hair, marveling at the texture of it. God, he looked like me.
"What?" Brandon asked.
"Don't try to sugarcoat what we're about to do," I whispered, staring intently into his eyes. "It's wrong on so many levels, Brandon."
"Angela, if you—"
"And that's what makes it so fucking hot!" I gasped, pulling his face to mine. "Dearest brother, I want you to dump a hot load in my box. Let's make retarded babies."
"Goddamn it, Angela," Brandon groaned.
"Someone tune the banjo; the Sorenson twins are about to fuck," I snickered, and jumped on his crotch, causing the both of us to tumble onto the couch with me landing straddling his lap.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Branon growled.
"I'm talking dirty, don't you like it?" I giggled, fumbling between his legs to get his pants down.
"Your dirty-talk is just as good as your pickup lines," Brandon said, ripping his belt off.
