The Necromancer’s Bride

I left the jar of slime in his laboratory and we both pretend not to notice it sitting there. Or maybe Meremon really doesn’t notice it, wrapped up in his work as he is.

One morning I wake to cramping pain across my abdomen and I know my bleeding has come. The pain is particularly bad this month and I have to drag myself out of bed, shaking and clammy. I can’t manage even to dress and I sink back down onto the mattress, thinking only of curling up in the dark around the pain, my arms clutched over my belly.

Filax shuffles into the room a few hours later. I watch him through slitted eyes as he hovers uncertainly. A few minutes later he leaves me alone.

I fall into a doze and wake to find someone standing over me. Not Filax, but Meremon.

“Are you ill?”

I nod. “I will be all right soon.”

He pulls my arms away from my belly and rolls me onto my back. “Is it your stomach? Did you eat something in the laboratory you weren’t supposed to? You must be careful, deliciae. There are many poisons.” He places his palm flat against my belly, feeling gently.

I push him away, aware that I’m only wearing my thin chemise. “It’s not poison. This is normal. You know. For women.”

Meremon frowns deeper and I feel myself blush scarlet. If I have to explain the menses to a grown man I will hurl myself out of the window.

A moment later he slips his hands beneath me and picks me up in his arms. He carries me down the stairs while I stare at him, bewildered.

“What are you doing? Put me down and let me sleep, will you?”

He ignores me and I start to struggle. “Don’t be so agitated, my Rhona. Ah, but you are in pain, aren’t you? I shall help you relax. Soporus.”

Instantly a feeling of heaviness comes over my limbs and I sag against him. He carries me into his laboratory and lays me out on one of his long workbenches where he performs his strange experiments.

I’ve become one of his experiments.

My limbs are weighed down by an invisible force and I can barely move. Meremon busies himself around me, clearing the space and placing his rolled up cloak beneath my head.

“Why do you torture me?” I whisper through numb lips.

He strokes my hair back from my face. “I do not torture you. On the contrary I hate to see you suffer. You shouldn’t accept being in pain like this. I don’t accept it.”

Why must he be so loving as he’s being so strange? I have wanted this so badly and it’s not fair that the tenderness I’ve craved comes from a man like him. I’m too weak not to be moved by him.

Shameful tears prickle in my eyes. Meremon sees them and kisses my brow, his long hair brushing my cheek. “I tasted your tears. I know what those people did to you and I wish I could have stopped them. You will know no more loneliness, my Rhona. No more sadness and dark nights. I have you now.”

He takes hold of my chemise and it melts as he pulls it asunder, exposing my breasts. His eyes drink their loving fill of me. “I’ve taken you away from those who don’t deserve you and I will treasure you all your days.”

“You’re cruel,” I whisper, and my eyes blur with more tears both from his sweet words and hungry eyes.

“How am I cruel? I want only to give you pleasure.” He squeezes my left breast and takes it into his mouth, sucking slowly. My nipple pebbles in his cold mouth and I feel the exquisite strokes of his tongue. Everything feels over-sensitized and I can’t move, only breathe.

Meremon undoes my drawers, spotted with blood, and tugs them down my legs. He spreads my legs and looks at me and I turn my face away. How can he look at me so adoringly in this state? Or at all? What is pretty or lovely about it? I expect him to touch me there but instead he turns away and picks up a jar, examining its contents. Something large and alive is flopping about in the bottom.

“What is that?” I whisper hoarsely, my eyes wide.

“It is Hirudo immanis. The monstrous leech.” Meremon tips it out onto his palm and it’s fleshy and off-white and the thickness of three men’s fingers. “But don’t let the name frighten you. It will not hurt you.”

He turns briskly to me. Or rather, my parted legs, and approaches me with the writhing creature. Its mouth parts are rows of pulsating teeth and I realize he means to put it on me. Put it in me.

“No—Meremon—that’s—ah—” I try to squirm away but his enchantment is too strong. I feel the creature wriggle against my sex and then, scenting blood, begin to burrow inside me. I let out a high moan and squeeze my eyes shut. Why is he doing this? The leech’s flexible body squeezes through my tight entrance and pulsates against my inner walls.