Electric Touch

Pneumatic hips, hot
Red lips, electric shock kiss
Making circuits bliss

Let me plug into your drive
So I really feel alive

Let us connect, not
Just suspect, how much we miss
The low, steamy hiss

The heat of our lips meeting
A living circuit completing

Interface to face
Firewall the world, the rat race
Intranets embrace

     Ellerelle wiped the sweat from her brow and ran a hand through her long, black hair. It was a warm night, she'd been flying after this scaly bastard all the way across the city. Now she stood atop the apothecary shop watching her prey as he sneaked down the dusty street. "Tonight you're going to die, Drago..." she whispered to the desert air. The red robed necromancer, unaware he was being tailed, eased the door to the mortuary open with a wave of his hand. Ellerelle watched as he ducked into the darkened building. From within a light appeared, an unnatural glow she knew came from magic. "Oh no you don't, Drago. You have enough zombies working for you. No more undead slave girls for you to defile..."

     Ellerelle spread her black wings and flitted across the street to the mortuary, landing just outside the door. She drew her dagger from the bodice sheathe between her breasts, the long, thin blade glinting in the moonlight. She could hear the necromancer chanting inside. He was standing by the altar to the ancestors, and he was about to turn the child interred in the front room into an undead slave.

     Faster than a cat, Ellerelle flew into the room, hurling her blade. The shiv flew straight into Drago's broad back, exploding with purple flames. "Aaaaagh!" Drago swirled around as he screamed, ripping the knife from his flesh and tossing it aside. Red lightning filled his clawed hands. "Die, you bitch!"

     Ellerelle dodged the crimson blasts. A column shattered behind her. Chunks of marble sprayed the room. She let out a shriek, the air in front of Drago burst at the sound. Drago struck the altar. His eyes burned with anger, another scarlet burst flew from his hand.

     The shuddering lightning hit this time, blasting a chunk of flesh from her thigh. Ellerelle tumbled to the ground in pain, her flesh charred and bleeding. Scrambling to her feet, she drew a sigil in the air. A wall of purple flames split the mortuary in two. The flames were a solid sheet of heat and lightning, that Drago could not see through. He threw crimson bolts at the barrier, but they ricocheted off, shattering statues and mosaics. "Where are you, you little whoring slut?", Drago growled.

     Ellerelle shrugged at the epithet. Yes, she used sex to gain power, but her magic came from the joy of others, instead of their death and suffering, and she knew Drago despised her for it. Drago's eyes glowed angrily. "I have had enough of your whoring kind interfering with my plans, Ellerelle. You want to play it like that, you fucking tart? So be it!" Drago knelt down, scratched a spiral of runes in the marble floor with a black claw, and began chanting.

     The runes flared with red light and the stone grew hot. A spark from the center rune wafted up into the air, growing. It spun and seethed, a ball of angry flames. Then it exploded in a shower of sparks and screams of the damned. In the middle of the air flapped a winged horror, black scales shimmering as it moved. A gaping mouth yawned and rows of teeth gleamed like obsidian. Drago pointed at the shivering wall of purple magic, "Kill that little, feathered bitch!" The hell-spawned serpent unfurled its six leathery wings, stretched its coiled body, and shot across the room. It struck the wall of flames and pierced the barrier. "Let's see that filthy little tantrika fuck her way out of this!"

     Ellerelle peered through her purple sheet of sparks at Drago as he cast his spell. "A hell-rune... ...That bastard is summoning a fiend!" Slugging back a healing potion, she enjoyed the feeling of love spreading through her body. The scalded, blackened flesh of her thigh regrew, once again soft, smooth, and white. Scrawling runes in the air, she keened an incantation. Her alabaster skin turned grey then her black mane of hair and ebony feathered wings followed suit. Her body was now as hard as stone and had the glossy sheen of polished marble.

     The devil-serpent flew through her magical wall and gazed around the room. It lunged for Ellerelle, a vast maw gaping open, a dozen tongues dripping venom. She somersaulted right, ran straight up the stone wall of the mortuary, and flipped over the fiend. It twisted in the air, trying to follow its prey. Ellerelle landed on its iron-scaled back. It roared and staggered under her weight. She shrieked and one hand turned to a steely blade. She stabbed and tore. Black ichor gushed from the wounds. The serpent twisted, slamming her into the wall. The decorative mosaic of the wall shattered, bits of marble crumbled from her impact. She fell off its back and rolled on to her feet, unharmed. The fiend twisted around to face Ellerelle and barbed tongues shot out, wrapping around her. Pain wracked her frame as one of the vile members slowly bored into her stony flesh. "Aaauuugh!!"

     She slashed and stabbed, slicing through one tongue then another. The fiend jerked back in pain, wrenching free its slippery tongues. She shrieked a blast of air, knocking the fiend back. Digging into her wound, she pulled out the wriggling piece of tongue and tossed it away. Venom was seeping through her blood, burning. Leaping at the beast she gouged out an eye. It plopped on the floor with a sickening squish. Ichor gushed from the wound, melting a hole in the floor where it fell. The serpent roared and clamped its jaws down on her arm. Fangs like razors shredded her flesh. Bones snapped. The jaws tightened. "Fuuuuck!" Tears streamed from Ellerelle's violet eyes as she fought against blacking out. The devil-serpent tugged and writhed. Her flesh gave way. It tore her arm off at the shoulder. Her blood pooled on the floor at her feet as she collapsed to her knees. She whispered a charm and the wound sealed, but the pain was blinding.

     The serpent dropped the dead limb, its bladed hand and marble flesh returned to normal. Ellerelle staggered to her feet. "This is it, " she thought, "no time for fear or pain left..." She drew a sigil in the air and shrieked. The sigil burst into purple flames, spinning like a deadly wheel of fire. With a wave she sent it at the beast. It sliced through wings, shredding and searing leathery flesh, sawing through tendons and hollow bones. The fiend crashed to the floor. The purple blade of fire flitted back to her hand. She hissed a word, it turned into a dagger. Running headlong for the devil-serpent she took off and flew at it, screaming. With one mighty stab she sank the burning blade into its skull. The blade exploded in her hand, sending pieces of bone and brains flying. The blast knocked her backwards, landing her on her back. The hell-beast was dead.

     Clutching her shoulder, she gazed at the purple wall of sparks. Drago was on the other side, chanting over the naked body of the child on the floor in the middle of a circle of runes and sigils. Ellerelle shrieked at the wall. Suddenly the wall swept forward and encircled the necromancer. Drago stumbled back in surprise, his scales reflecting the flickering light of the flames. "Why are you still alive, you sodding whore?!"

     Ellerelle fumbled for another healing potion, poured some on her wound, and reattached her arm. Drinking the rest, she smirked at Drago's discomfiture. "Because, you corpse-fucking bastard, I'm a better mage than you..." Drago snarled, hurling scarlet lightning at the purple barrier, but the flashing bolts just ricocheted off, dancing around the necromancer. "Foolish wench! Corpses are just corrupted meat, what do the dead care if their husks are used by mages? We are the mighty. We take what we want. If not us, then the worm and the scarab. What is the bloody difference? Magic is pure power, unsullied by corporeality..."

     Ellerelle had heard it all before. Necromancers thought the natural order was theirs to abuse because only the mind was "clean". She stretched her fingers, feeling her arm heal. She was exhausted, spent. Her flesh-of-stone spell had ended, returning her to normal. But the potion was restoring her strength, its love was washing away the poison in her blood and warming her cold flesh. She looked through the flames at Drago. He had healed his own wounds, too. The difference was he had ripped flesh from the dead child's corpse to do it.

     Ellerelle whispered a word, her dagger flew across the room to her hand. She cocked an eyebrow and looked at him one last time. He was a burly man with the scales of a snake over much of his body, the effect of learning his magic from a dragon. His goatee and braid of black hair were singed by fire. The dragon tattoo atop his shave scalp writhed in anger, gnashing its teeth. His crimson robes were now dirty and caked in blood and soot, but they must have cost more than the building they stood in. "Shit, I hate burning silk..." But with a wave of her hand and a screeched word the circle of purple flames collapse in on the necromancer, searing his flesh and sending shocks of lightning through his body.

     Drago roared in pain and anguish. His robes were ashes. Most of his skin was burned off, exposing charred muscle and bone to the warm desert air. He growled, hurting too much to speak, and shot another bolt of crimson hate at Ellerelle. She barely dodged it, tumbling through the air as she flew at him. Her dagger slashed open his stomach. He fell backwards, lightning shooting through his flesh. Ellerelle hovered over his body, wings lashing the air, as sparks flickered across his trembling limbs. With a shriek she dove at him and plunged her dagger into his chest. He clawed at her throat with his last ounce of strength, choking her, as the blade slid between his ribs. The dagger exploded with purple flames and bolts of violet lightning. The necromancer's chest burst, sending scorched flesh and bone in all directions, his heart exploding . With one final shudder, Drago was dead.

     She deftly sliced through his neck, beheading him. "This will make a good candleholder..." The imams who ran the mortuary would have a mess to clean up in the morning. She wrapped her gruesome trophy in an altar cloth and slung it over her shoulder. It would be a warning to the rest of his murderous kind.

     Walking out into the night, Ellerelle sighed, "One down, twelve to go..." She looked up and down the dusty street, but nobody was awake yet. She must have looked a sight, her leather bodice and skirt dripping with Drago's blood. She returned her dagger to its sheathe as she strolled down the street to a fountain. She washed away the blood and knelt to sip some water. It was cool and clear and soothed her parched throat. She looked up at the silent stars, it was time to go home. Stretching out her wings, she soared up into the sky, and flew away...

The Shadow Walking Next to Me
by Samuel M. Wright
October 8, 2004

In the dark I see
A shadow walking next to me
Blacker than vile sin
With a toothy, gaping grin
Wings of curling smoke
Smelling of the that demon coke

It whispers to me sweetly
Of pleasures to be had nightly
As its claws of addiction
Tear open my dereliction
Of duty to the ones I love
Even to the Heavens above

“All you need is a taste,
Don’t let it go to waste.
Try a little sample,
I’ll let you have an ampoule.”
It tempts me caresses
Of the kind no one confesses

Under my skin I feel it creep
Killing my dreams and stealing my sleep
My hand is in the cookie jar
Its like scratching at an ugly scar
I can’t stop myself from tweaking
It really has me freaking

I wonder if I’ll get to see the light
Or live forever in this night
Turning me into the crack pipe’s whore
The only thing I can be thankful for
Thank God my momma can’t see
This shadow walking next to me