Auctorial Abscondences in Opusculum

Chimera Child Part One: Confusion

You couldn't tell that it was morning until my door swung inward. Pale yellow light flooded in, and I woke with a gasp as it splashed against my face. I lifted a knee, pulled myself up by it, feeling the sheets fall loosely down. In the doorway stood a Social Acolyte, dressed in the order's mystical garb. I couldn't see their face against the light.

"The Beast demands another sacrifice," they said in a low tone of voice, as though the Beast was in the room with us, sleeping.

"Oh, is it Tuesday again already?" I asked.

"It's 11 on a Tuesday," they replied, and I finally was awake enough to recognise the voice, or at least the words, "Get up and join us at the table."

The door shut with a soft thud, usually my only contribution to the morning's rumblings. But it was Tuesday. Slowly, dragging myself through the junk on my floor, I walked to the closet. Something black on top, something long to cover my hairy legs, who cares socks, and my whitest trainers. Gotta look my best.

I didn't look in the mirror, but I saw an image of myself there anyway. Saw myself running a straightener through my hair, saw hints of makeup and mascara underneath two blue eyes. I smiled. Maybe once that was me. Turning to catch the reflection's light eye, I was met with only mine. One blue, one green.

Everyone else had had breakfast already, but Michelle was still sitting at the table, sketching something on a thousand sheets of paper. There was a faint ring of condensation on the table next to my seat, as there was at every place except mine. Michelle saw me looking.

"New kids," she said, "I tried to tell them."

I put one arm on the table, "It's okay Chelle, you don't have to do that anymore."

"But I know you don't like it when they sit there," she protested. I didn't argue. I didn't ask where else the new kids could have sat. I didn't meet her eyes.

The rules of the Beast were simple. Every month, usually on a Tuesday, a sacrifice must be made. A child from our group offered up and killed. Down the hall, I heard a Social Acolyte explain the rules to the new kids as they got them dressed into their best clothes.

Michelle was drawing a castle, with high spires and towering walls. She was a good drawer. I smiled, half of my face at her talent, half at the image. As if we lived in a fairytale.

Soon enough the table was full. I looked around at the faces.