Page 83 of He Who Sleeps

Chapter 29

“Jesus, has he beenin here all night?” Emerson looked up from his notes to see Rix smirking at him. “You realize Jack has that sexy as fuck woman tied to your bed right now, right?”

“And you’re not up there?” he asked his friend.

Kendrix snorted. “You know that ain’t my scene...though itisyours.”

It was, and it was just fucking tough noogies that he wasn’t involved. “Well, it’s good they are keeping her busy. We gotta talk.” He looked to Finn and Easton. “Shit hit the fan.”

"That sounds serious." Finn sobered immediately and pulled up a chair. "What's going on?"

Emerson nodded to the books and the packet on the table. “Read the letter,” he offered to Finn as Rix started looking at the books.

Finn scanned the paper and then handed it to Easton, his lips drawing a thin line. "Summarize the rest of it for me," he said, eyes fixed on Emerson.

“Well, you know how we have been talking about how things aren’t right?” Rix looked up to him and then to Finn. “They aren’t. Dad’s journal I found was only the tip of the iceberg. These there...” he laid hands on the two journals to his right, “have information...” He swallowed, trying not to get choked up, “Information on how things before they died were different and what my father saw as wrong due to our own rites.”

“What do you mean?” Rix asked. “This book reads like stereo instructions.”

“Well that book, brother, details how having a single female for a group to worship with brings not only favor, but abundance...and independence.”

Rix frowned. “Something we think we have but don’t...but our fathers...”

“The Elders they had were more hands off, and allowed for the different options of faith.”

“Options of faith?”

Emerson nodded. “Our mothers were an option. Petra is anoption. Blood sacrifices are an option. Anoption.”

"Emerson, get your shit together," Finn sighed. "Stop waffling and get to the point. What do you mean by 'an option'?"

“Sorry, Finn, this is fucking crazy to me.” He swallowed. “These were options. Killing all year is an option. He Who Sleeps would rather...varied energy, but his favorite is feminine.”

“We knew that, that’s why we sacrifice a woman...”

“We didn’thaveto. We could have had since the beginning what we have with Petra now. Our fathers, remember seeing that they tried to find a woman for all of them? And failed? But they all found women to marry, have children with...and perform personal rites with.” He looked to them. “Their large sacrifice was blood, but the rest of the year, it was sex. And the veils...they aren’t as heavy as we have been led to believe through the year. He watches...he savors what we do.” He sighed. “And I think that because we have been all but starving him of variety he stopped speaking to us.”

“What? I have never...”

“Nor I. But my father details here how He sent my mother to him...how He sent all our mothers to them.”

"You're waffling again." Finn held up a hand to pause him. "Let me get this straight; our fathers were feeding the God all year round by gathering energy from our mothers? That's always been an option? We could have been feeding Him all year round with Petra since day one?"

He nodded. “Yes, individually and because it’s Petra, as a group. The energy we raised last night...the spike when Easton touched her...” He shook his head. “But we have been led to believe that blood is what He craves, andonlywhat he craves. Why?”

“Control,” Rix said. “Fuck.”

Emerson nodded. “This journal, it shows how our fathers were led to our mothers, after the attempt to find a central female failed. My father writes that each of them were given visions through dreams of our mothers, and followed the feeling to find them in waking life.” He picked up the book closest. “And this book? It tells of why and how females born to our order are kept separate, as not to create bonds...because they serve a purpose, too. To become mothers, and in some cases a central female for a group. They were never to be sacrificed; they are the feminine divine for He Who Sleeps.”

"Wait," Easton spoke up for the first time. "You're saying that Petra might be...one of us? She was raised in an orphanage."

Emerson shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible. We need to ask her about where she was raised again, about what happened the night she found us.” He sighed. “Each of our mothers were of the blood, raised elsewhere. My father says my mother, Francine,” he chuckled. “I never knew her name,” he said absently. “Says she was raised on a commune outside San Francisco. Finn, your mother Daphne was raised in an artist collective in Canada.” He looked up. “Each of the mothers were raised in alternative societies. Rix, your mother Kimber, she was an orphan.” He looked to Easton. “And I don’t think you being brought in was an accident.”

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