Staroz pushed his way through the throng of cheering and jeering lishas. The square between the Bloody Gate and the meat market was host to a stormy sea of drunken spectators, broken only by several impromptu wrestling rings. By squeezing past the bigger lishas and shoving past the smaller ones, he eventually got to the side-lines of the loudest ring.
The two lishas’ muscles bulged as their claws dug into each
others’ scales, their foreheads locked together. The tight circle of riotous spectators
ebbed and flowed as the wrestlers pushed and pulled and swung each other
around. The lisha next to Staroz was so absorbed in the fight that he didn’t
notice Staroz taking his flagon, downing the beer and slipping it back into his
hand.
One of the wrestlers ran out of stamina and was thrown onto
the ground with a painful crack, and the crowd erupted with joy. None were as
happy as the young hurum woman jumping up and down on an upturned crate on the
side-lines. She was rather curvaceous, Staroz’s achingly empty stomach begged
him for her. Panting, the victor exchanged a few quiet words with her, picked
her up and walked into the crowd with her in his arms. Staroz couldn’t pretend to
himself that he wasn’t a bit envious, but he knew that they were going to use
orokosa. He fancied his chances as a contender, but that wasn’t the prize he
was after. As the next hurum stepped onto the crate and several lishas rushed
forward and jostled for the opportunity to compete, he slipped away.
Although a bit more subdued, the market was still even more
thick with lishas and hurums than usual, so thick that it was hard to get
anywhere without pushing through cliques eating, drinking, laughing, singing
together. The voluptuous woman atop her column had attracted a throng of
admirers, around which bellowing hawkers sold gourds of orokosa at inflated
prices. Staroz’s attention was drawn to a whirlpool of lishas and hurums.
“Come and receive the charity of the Ikarkur Lurush!” a
hurum woman standing on a crate in the centre was calling, “Have a good time
tonight on the Ikarkur Lurush!”
Once Staroz shoved his way to her, she handed him a single
oro leaf.
“Is that all?” he said, “That ain’t even enough to get half
a manky steak”
Her beady eyes glared at him for a moment, before turning to
other supplicants. The colossal lisha next to her trained his eyes on him, so he
stuffed the leaf in his pocket and slunk away.
At the edge of the market, near the road that led up to the
Rush, a lisha with golden scales wearing a black toga and holding a flaming
torch stood on a stone slab.
“This festival is a mockery of the hallowed rituals of our
forefathers! Just as on Zemyz, just as in Parua, just as in a myriad of places
across the world, we the lishas of this island would hold sacred games once
every generation, and with the blessing of our Father the Sun, the worthiest
would devour and digest the comeliest hurums. But, with the construction of
this cesspit they call Kurush, the sacred games have been made ‘safe’ and
‘fun’, and their purpose, their sanctity have been removed, discarded and
forgotten”
Most of the lishas and hurums shuffling past gave him a
baffled look or ignored him completely, but as soon as he heard the words
‘devour and digest’, Staroz joined the handful of lishas standing at his feet.
“Hurums are not our equals. They are not our brothers and
sisters. How do I know this? Just look at them. They’re puny, they’re weak,
they’re docile, they’re constantly thinking about breeding. And the taste of a
hurum on your tongue is the most divine pleasure there is. They are like ganas,
hapas and the other animals the Sun has given us dominion over. Many of them
even want to be eaten, what is that if not a sign that that is their role in
life?
“But why, then, does Shakresh insist that they are our
equals? Why does he say the Sun commands that we treat them as siblings? It is
a lie, a despicable lie cooked up by the hurums which has spread even amongst
the most respectable lishas. They are a cunning, conniving lot, and Shakresh is
a damned fool for swallowing their falsehoods. Do not let them deceive you!”
sparks fell from his torch as he trembled with passion, “Kurush is crumbling
because it is built on this lie, and the more it crumbles the more the lie is
exposed. Dare to see the truth, and we shall bring the righteous order back to
our island!”
Staroz punched the air with a cheer, and was surprised that
no-one else around did too. The preacher continued his sermon, but he was
drowned out by the sound of horns growing closer. The procession was
approaching from the docks, and with it the invigorated jubilation of the
crowd. Lishas in polished bronze armour cleared the way and pushed revellers
away from the Sapphire priestesses twirling and drumming in their spotless
white and blue dresses.
The focus of the frenzy was a pyramid of straw being carried
on a litter by four strapping hurum men, seated at the pinnacle of which was
the idol of Sapesh swallowing Galka, said to have been carved from one of the
branches of the Talking Tree itself. Even from a distance it was clear that the
wood was chipped in several places, and it had been soaked in olive oil so many
times to try and preserve it that it looked more like coal. Yet the faces of
the couple who first tried orokosa were strikingly detailed, as if the carver
had been there to see it happen.
As the procession made its way back up the hill, Staroz joined
the gaggle of lishas and hurums keeping pace with it, gawping at the
priestesses. He had to keep wiping drool from his chin, but he dragged himself
away once they reached the high market. The procession continued towards the
Sapphire Temple where the idol would be interred for another year. Suddenly
Staroz felt very out of place. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in
this part of Kurush. All the lishas and hurums around were wearing dazzlingly
colourful clothes and sparkling necklaces. Staroz was wearing the cleaner one
of his two plain, frayed tunics. He used to have a gold ring, but he had given
it to his landlord last month in lieu of rent.
As the excitement of the procession began to fizzle out, a
party of lishas and hurums drifted into a beer hall on the edge of the market
that was bursting with noise. Without thinking Staroz followed them, but a
gigantic jade-scaled lisha blocked the doorway and looked down at him.
“What’s the problem?” said Staroz
“What do you think?” said the bouncer
“Can I go in?”
“What do you think?”
“Yes?”
“Fuck off”
“You fuck off!”
The bouncer raised a fist, and Staroz backed away with his
hands up. He loitered around until the bouncer was distracted with more
patrons, then slipped down the alleyway alongside the beer hall. There were
lishas and hurums drinking on the roof, but no way for him to climb up there. At
the back door, he picked up an empty box and strode into a kitchen clogged with
smoke.
“Delivery of-“
“Yeah yeah, put it on the side”, said a hurum man with his
back turned, clobbering steaks with a cleaver
“Come on, I’ve got six waiting”, said a voice through a hole
in the wall
“If you’ve got time to complain you’ve got time to help me,
you lazy shitstain!”
Staroz tossed the empty box onto the floor. That was easier
than he’d expected. He made his way to the hall itself, where his nostrils were
assaulted with a dizzying mix of beer, food and sweat. A lutist and a flutist were
playing an peppy tune in the corner which could hardly be heard over the din of
a hundred conversations. He snaked his way between the minglers and the
cliques, scouting for potential prey.
There were plenty of prospects – these rich hurums seemed to
want to show off as much skin as possible, presumably to attract someone to
hump. What weird, horny little creatures, thought Staroz, either they don’t
know or they don’t care that they are only making themselves more appetising to
the lishas around them. The aggressively heady whiff of sweaty hurums made his
stomach grumble impatiently, and it was only thanks to the impenetrable
cacophony of the place that no-one heard it.
He was ignored by most of the revellers, except for an
occasional look of faint disgust. He wasn’t going to find any success there, so
he decided to go up to the roof. As soon as his head reached the cool night
air, his eyes were drawn to a young, tanned hurum woman with short, scruffy
hair on the other side of the rooftop. Her silky, scanty top flaunted a slender
belly that looked as soft as bread dough. There’s no way a hurum that looks
that mouth-watering doesn’t want to be eaten, thought Staroz, I’m not going to
be able to stop thinking about her until she’s in my stomach. She’s the one.
A hurum man with a chiselled chin was talking earnestly at
her, but she seemed more interested in her drink. Then she caught Staroz
leering at her, and the briefest of smirks flashed across her mousey face. She
made her apologies to the man, and walked towards Staroz. His mind frantically
struggled to assemble a sentence, any sentence that made any sense, as the
vision of beauty came closer, their eyes locked onto each other’s, only for her
to walk past him and descend the stairs. He croaked, took a deep breath and
followed her.
She joined the back of the throng clamouring for food from
the bar. He stood right behind her and leant down.
“Please tell me you’re on the menu”
She looked round and up at him with a mischievous smile, “I’m
afraid not. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m here for the grub,” said Staroz with a grin, “what we got
in the Ekuan quarter ain’t nothing like what you got up here”
“That so? I take it you don’t mean the steaks. Are you the
kind of guy who likes their food with a bit more… flavour?”
He whispered in her ear, “You look absolutely fucking
delicious. You’re going to be my dinner, there’s no way I’m letting you get
away”
They both started breathing heavily. He savoured her sweet aroma,
she must have been wearing a fragrance made of fruit and berries.
“Misha!”
A petite hurum woman ran up to them, her hair quivering like
a frightened animal. A golden-scaled lisha woman wearing a pure white tunic and
several necklaces followed closely and calmly behind.
“This lisha wants to eat me!” she squeaked, her face frozen
in panic
“Calm down Ninura, trust me, everything’s fine,” said Misha,
“Lishas might look a bit scary, but I’ve never met one more dangerous than a
seagull. You were excited earlier, you’ve wanted to try it for a while, right? And
tonight’s a great opportunity! I’m sorry, it’s her first time”
“Don’t worry about it,” said the lisha, laying a hand on
Ninura’s shoulder, making her jump, “can’t blame a meal for being nervous when
it’s mealtime”
Staroz soured. Two’s company, four’s a couple of witnesses. The
lisha woman was so composed that she was unreadable. He couldn’t risk dining on
Misha with her around, but the idea of not dining on her at all was
unthinkable.
“Who’s hungry?” said Misha
“I’m famished!” said the lisha woman
“Well if you want us for dinner, you’ll have to catch us
first!”
Misha grabbed Ninura’s hand and they bolted into the crowd.
Without a moment’s hesitation Staroz followed, but thanks to their size they
ducked and weaved between the partiers and quickly slipped out of sight. Staroz
roared with frustration and shoved lishas and hurums out of his way, creating a
path for himself through the sea of debauchery by force. He kept going until he
burst through the entrance, making the bouncer jump. There was no sign of them
on the street.
The lisha woman was close behind, “Where would they go? The
market? Another beer hall?”
Staroz trusted his instinct and dived into the same alleyway
he had gone down minutes before. He passed the back entrance to the beer hall
and went deeper into the backstreets. They were surrounded by the sounds of
chatter, laughter and music, but they grew more and more distant. Soon the only
light there was came from the moon.
They arrived at a junction. The alley on the right had a
puddle and some wet footprints on the ground, and Staroz could smell the
faintest trace of fruit.
“I’ll go right, you go left”
“I’m not falling for that”, she said as they both ran down
the right alley
They turned a corner, and Misha and Ninura were just ahead
catching their breath. Staroz’s stomach leapt for joy. He pushed past Ninura,
slipped his hands under Misha’s arms and curled his fingers around her chest,
gripping her firmly so that she couldn’t run off again.
“You look starving”, said Misha, looking up at him forlornly,
her chest heaving
His head almost directly above hers, he leant down and slowly
led the tip of his tongue from her collar up her neck and across her cheek. A
soothing warmth instantly coursed throughout his body. Rich hurums taste so
fucking amazing, he thought, like a fine, tender steak with a sprinkle of spice
and a dollop of melting butter.
He lifted her off the ground and pinned her up against the
alley wall so that he could taste her belly. Slender as she was, there was
nevertheless so much meat between her hips and her ribs to savour, and it was
so soft and sweet it felt more like cake than meat. She squirmed and gasped as
the tip of his tongue explored her bellybutton. He was so absorbed in the
experience that he was jolted out of it by a loud squeak – next to them, Ninura
was also being licked all over by the lisha woman.
Misha reached under her top and took off a gourd tied around
her neck.
“You ready for dinner?” she asked breathlessly
Staroz had to decide. He could play it safe, use orokosa
tonight, and try and get her alone tomorrow night. But he knew that wasn’t
going to happen. He hadn’t eaten anything for days. His body and soul were
aflame with desire, he needed a good meal, and he needed it to be her, and he
needed it to be right now. In one swift movement, he snatched the gourd in his
jaws and tossed it down the alleyway.
“What the fuck?”
“This is what you really want, isn’t it?” said Staroz, a
vicious grin spreading across his face, “Go on, admit it”
“Of course not! I don’t want to die!” said Misha, a shiver
of fear in her voice, “If you’re that hungry, I’ll buy you dinner, the fattest
steak in the market”
“That would be nowhere near as tasty as you”
Misha turned to the lisha woman, “Get this bastard off of me!”
She looked coolly at Staroz, “Why would I deprive a lisha of
a well-earned meal?”
“Ninura, they want to eat us! I mean, actually eat us!”
“Calm down,” said Staroz, “you’re meant to be eaten. Why
else would you be so weak and delicious? This is the whatchamacallit, the
righteous order. Just let it happen”
Despite her struggling to free herself, he took hold of one
of her skinny legs, shoved her foot down his throat, then took hold of the
other which was franticly kicking his chest and forced it into his mouth as
well. As she slid down, he turned her around so that he could taste her belly
one last time. His body glowed with pleasure as he sedately chewed on her warm,
tender flesh, his tongue busily savouring her rich flavour, his nostrils
drenched in her fruity fragrance. Hurums really are the best food there is, he
thought as he groaned in ecstasy. He barely noticed as she writhed between his
jaws and desperately tried to pry herself from the tight grip of his hands
around her chest.
“Help! Somebody help! You fucking bastard! The Sun will
roast you alive for this!”
He moved his hands upwards, forcing her arms together, until
all he held were her wrists. Then he gulped and gulped, more and more of her
disappearing down his throat as she screamed in fury. Once her hands were in
his mouth, he let go, clamped his jaws shut and swallowed. Her warm body
slipped down into his gut. There is nothing more satisfying than the feeling of
a hurum in your stomach, he thought, everything feels right with the world.
Some lishas spend years meditating to achieve inner peace, why bother when you
can just eat hurums?
“Please!” Ninura wailed, tears flowing down her face as she
was chewed upon, “Please!”
She was swallowed with a terrified yelp, and calm returned
to the alleyway. The lisha woman sighed as though all of her cares had been
wiped away.
“Fuck me I needed that,” she said, “good job on finding
them”
“It’s not the first time I’ve hunted rich hurums”
“You looking for work? My boss would appreciate your skills”
“Sure. The name’s Staroz”
“Lydda. Ah, we should wait here a while, at least until they
settle down”
She patted her bulging belly. Staroz could feel Misha
wriggling wildly and hear her muffled screams as his stomach gratefully churned
her. She kicked him in the liver, making him wince. That was a meal to
remember, he thought, just as scrumptious as that girl I caught in the
warehouse. I’m already looking forward to the next one.
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall
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