Win a Night out with a Well-Known Paranoiac

Barry Andrews and his sense of humour...

( cut for insane length. he talks like an auctioneer in this song )

Rebekah and Mephistopheles

I have to say I've never officially introduced Rebekah and Mephistopheles. As I lay in bed (yes, I'm kinda sick) watching Total Recall, the hammer of inspiration knocked my head off. After reattaching it, I scrambled in here to the computer and this is what I wrote.

 

They enjoyed the barracks so much more in the days of the First Great War.  The blood and piss and the heady sense of apocalyptic paranoia and psychotic breaks.  Men broke like kewpie dolls from the inside out but, when their insides were ripped out by rusty bayonettes, Rebekah was always a little disappointed fine porcelain didn’t spill out instead.  Barracks these days were office jobs for the most part and the mean were pre-medicated to they’d leave the war addicted to the high of the medication instead of addicted to any perversion that would keep him from screaming out into the inky night because he’d just been visisted by his eviscerated buddy from last year’s tour of duty in Germany.

Or take Vietnam for instance, when mankind first began to really explore the connection between physical and mental horror and the complete meltdown that so often happened when the two were intermingled.  Only a handful of men weren’t diagnosed with PTSD after having their spirits pissed on by their “great leaders.”  These men were great men indeed, for they proved beyond a shadow of a doubt to have no soul whatsoever.  They could say, do, or have to done to them anything and they may show physical distress or a certain distaste for the occasional activity, but they slept like babes swaddled in granny’s knit blanket every night without one bit of issue taken with the activities of the day.

These were the men and women that easily embraced the Way of the Beast.  Sought it out, they did, having heard in back alleys of the shithole town in which they were stationed or sitting in the galley eating the swill afforded them by the what was told to them was the greatest nation on Earth.  And these were the men and women Rebekah and her beautiful mate Mephistopheles hunted, tortured, ate alive, and left for dead on an almost nightly basis.  It was a shame that the Muslims were being blamed for a spat of gruesome murders throughout the war-torn desert streets of Iraq but no…  Rebekah and Mephistopheles are gorging on the blood of the soulless and enjoyed the fact that they were actually saving more lives than they were taking.

They found four of the Soulless alone in their rec room joking about the days of Abu Graib and the games they played with the bodies stretched too far and the sacrilege they made these unfortunate people suffer.  “And what’s so funny,” one of the soulless said.  “He had no idea of what was going on.  He just wanted to find his wife in son.  Well bow to the East 22.5 times, take this broom stick up your arse and proclaim yourself a Catholic priest, and I’ll putcha out of your misery.”

The room rang with laughter, the kind that makes you want to make it the cackling of the damned.  And so Rebekah did.  With Mephistopheles, they entered the rec room and opened each throat before anyone could even really move.  Drinking the blood they needed, they then opened the viscera to play a kind of ring-a-round the rosie with the jar-head’s bowels.  They left the room bloody, happy, and pleased with the fact that the four marines still had a few more minutes of sentience to realise that their bowels were tied in a knot in the middle of the room and they were slowly bleeding out after having been visited by what the locals called Jinn.

The more blood there was, the more justice.  At least Kelat thought so.  Mephistopheles had to say he agreed.  He adored his beloved Rebekah and made it a habit to agree with her on matters, especially important matters of the blood.

Chapters

The names of the chapters so far in The Augury of Gideon.

• The Haunted Angel


• The Shroud and the Jewel


• The Dhampir


• The Dreams of Madness


• Remembrance


• The Persistent Spirit


• Kids These Days

The binding theme to all of these is that the spirit of Faust moves through the narrative. My revelation the other night was that he would be the one to bring the players to the field and they would be the ones to resurrect him as Kallum McCreary.

My word count for the day 3047. Total word count for Augury is currently 14627.
I am obsessed.