; ; Fuck. Miss Zemanova was going to give her a really hard time for ; walking in late, so she might as well face the music, so to speak. She ; jogged into the building and up the stairs, book in hand.
; ; The sound of the other girls’ singing almost made her stop again in ; the hall, but she steeled herself and gently pushed open the heavy ; wooden door to the classroom.
; ; Predictably, Miss Z didn’t even give her an inch of slack. She ; waved angrily to the girls to stop and turned to face Sofia, who eyed ; her desk across the room.
; ; "And to what do we owe the pleasure, Sofia?" She rested her hand on ; her hip and awaited a reply, blond eyebrows arched.
; ; "Sorry," Sofia replied breezily. "Forgot my book and had to go back." ; She slid into her seat and gave an insincerely apologetic ; smile. Still, in the pit of her stomach was a queasy deja ; vu. Something about someone else being late, maybe last week. But she ; pushed the feeling away in the face of the immediate threat.
; ; Miss Z smiled, because Sofia had shown no outward sign of ; intimidation. "Yes, you’re quite the forgetful little thing as of ; late. Wandering around the campus with a lost look on that pinched ; face." Sofia didn’t really like or know where Miss Z was going with ; this, but she kept her expression politely attentive. "And while your ; performance on the midterm was adequate, you’ll do well not to ; forget there is still half a term to go."
; ; Adequate… Sofia could sing this crap in her sleep! Why they ; wouldn’t let her test out of all these ear-training courses ; entirely was beyond her. It was like they wanted her to go through ; these endless hours of singing in sleepy classrooms for some other ; reason. Regarding the stern teacher in front of her desk, she simply ; smiled again, hoping to cut the public flogging short.
; ; Miss Z looked around the room. "Girls, Line Forty-Two, from the ; beginning. And three. Four."
; ; Sofia jumped in without cracking her book, staring at Miss Z. To show ; that she didn’t need this course or lessons from this ; goose-stepping teacher. It wasn’t the wisest move, but Sofia rarely ; backed down from a confrontation. So she let loose her robust soprano, ; stepping through the exercise with assurance, adding a touch of ; vibrato at the end of the line as a little "fuck you".
; ; The girls were now silent, waiting for instruction, but Miss Z was ; just staring down at Sofia, and after a moment chairs began to creak ; awkwardly.
; ; "Line Forty-Three," said Miss Z, planting her palms on Sofia’s ; desk. "And three. Four." Then she began to sing with the class, eyes ; never leaving Sofia’s. Her voice was much louder and she matched ; Sofia’s manner perfectly, even imitating the cheeky vibrato at the ; end of the line. Sofia wanted to crack a smile because this was a ; really stupid show to put on in front of the whole class, but better ; judgement prevailed.
; ; "Line Forty-Four. Three. Four." It looked like Miss Z was going to ; teach the whole class from Sofia’s desk, giving back every ounce of ; shit Sofia dished out. Until next year, if need be. And then the ; strange thing happened, the way it did each time: all the voices in ; the room pulled together, merging under the teacher’s. Sofia knew ; she was still singing from the physical sensation, but she couldn’t ; pick her own voice out of the choir anymore. She finally broke Miss ; Z’s gaze, looking at her desk. Her fingers crept to her book as she ; considered finally opening up to the right page and putting a stop to ; her smart-assed memorization routine, but stern hands gripped her ; wrists and put them back. Then one hand slipped under her chin and ; slowly, assuredly raised her head up. Miss Z had started this little ; game and she was going to finish it.
; ; They finished the week’s exercises in record time, and were made to ; start over. Sofia blinked frequently, but couldn’t break Miss ; Z’s gaze. Those cold, hard blue eyes both challenged and teased, ; saying "Look into my eyes and I will make a meal of you."
; ; It was on the second exercise that all the other voices in the room ; became inaudible, replaced by Miss Z’s precise alto and a curious ; rushing noise. It was harder and harder to concentrate — Sofia ; couldn’t even tell if she was hitting the right notes, and the ; rushing, rumbling sound became more like a sensation. It was the ; feeling and sound of travelling; the sound of falling into Miss Z’s ; eyes. And the sound of Sofia’s blood rushing through her veins.
; ; She lost track of the exercises, of everything, even the proximity of ; her teacher as frightening waves of dizziness assaulted her. And that ; wasn’t the only thing. The sound of her blood made her feel… ; engorged. She felt swollen, in her lips and behind her bra and in her ; clit, which was a hard pebble underneath her desk. The dizziness ; increased along with the swelling, and Sofia thought that she moaned, ; only she was pretty sure she was still singing somewhere and the last ; clear memory she had was of being sorry for ever drawing the ire of ; Miss Zemanova, because that memory shattered into hundreds of pieces ; of memories of the last six weeks, just as her head fell forward and
; ; In the dream she’s trying to free her wrists, but she’s chained ; to a cold stone wall. It’s dark, and she can only see the outlines ; of the many female figures in front of her. She feels a cold swipe ; across her belly, and looks down to see a line of red paint. Before ; she can look up again, many fingers dabbed with paint begin to cross ; her skin. She’s trying to tell them to stop because the sensations ; are flattening her, inside her head. And they’re stoking her, ; between her legs, pushing her to a climax she doesn’t want, because ; then she’ll slip into another dream instead of waking up wherever ; she just was, where her real self is in some kind of trouble. They ; don’t stop painting and she knows with dismal clarity that she’s ; going to cum and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. She sucks ; air in a series of incremental, freezing gasps as everything finally ; breaks loose, and her walls clench painfully. The wash of ecstasy ; feels bad and wrong somehow, like all the paint on her body is ; draining out of her sex onto the cold floor and
; ; all of the girls collected their books and shuffled out of the room, ; pointedly ignoring Sofia as she realized she was sitting there at her ; desk. Just as she began to look around the room for Miss Z, she felt a ; tight, slightly friendly squeeze around her shoulders. "Run along, ; Sofia. You don’t want to be late for your next class." The squeeze ; became a bewildering caress of the back of her neck, and Sofia jumped ; up and hurried out of the room. ;
; ; Something bad was definitely going on here; she was aware of it again ; today. Sometimes it got pushed back, and she went for days without ; really knowing where she was or what she was doing. At times she’d ; almost feel normal, just going through the routine of classes and ; practicing and such, but then she would realize she didn’t feel ; anything except a gauzy haze shutting out the extremes of ; emotion. Like the time her parents, horrified with her Goth tendency ; toward the melancholy, put her on Prozac for a summer instead of ; simply remembering what it was like when they were teenagers. Only ; this was much, much stronger.
; ; Walking into the dining hall today, she could remember enough to know ; she needed to get out of there. And she knew damn well that she’d ; better not attract too much attention doing it. Sofia also knew she ; needed help.
; ; After loading up with the merely adequate dorm food at the serving ; line, she carefully circled the dining room, searching for a friendly ; face. Those were in short supply lately and Sofia was starting to ; figure out why. All of the younger students were going through ; whatever-it-was that was happening to her, but they reacted ; differently. Some had yielded almost instantly to the invasive forces ; at work — these were easy to spot because they looked almost like ; department store mannequins, blankly chewing and swallowing. Others ; were slowly being broken down (like herself?), and in the face of the ; invisible influence at work they were retreating inward. These girls ; were sullen and withdrawn, not seeing that the problem wasn’t ; personal. A few resisted strongly and openly, but Sofia was sure that ; their number was dwindling.
; ; Then there was Bebel, who was always there for her. Sweet, sunny ; Bebel, who laughed easily and was generous with hugs. Only Sofia ; didn’t trust her anymore because sometimes when they were alone in ; their room together, she could feel Bebel looking at her while her ; back was turned. And it wasn’t a nice look. Bebel was one of them.
; ; As Sofia scanned the dining hall, she finally spotted a girl eating by ; herself in the corner, shooting wary glances here and there. In this ; roomful of glazed expressions, she might as well have been wearing a ; t-shirt that said "potential ally." Sofia wandered casually up to her ; table and asked, "This seat taken?"
; ; The disheveled, short haired blond was much smaller than Sofia - a ; frightened, messy little art school pixie. She looked her up and down ; skittishly, but to Sofia’s relief, she nodded her head at the seat.
; ; Sofia seated herself and eagerly tore into her food, such as it ; was. She was nervous, so she diverted her attention to eating before ; sussing out her potential comrade. After clearing half of her plate ; she looked up to see the other girl staring at her. "What?" she said ; around a mouthful of bread and cheese.
; ; "Most of them don’t seem to be very hungry," the girl said softly, ; looking around the hall. Sofia opened her mouth again but before she ; could speak, the girl pointed to herself and said, "Anja."
; ; "Sofia." She decided to cut to the chase. "You having dreams?"
; ; Anja nodded once, then dipped her eyes to her plate.
; ; Sofia leaned forward, encouraged. "What the fuck is happening around ; here?" she whispered.
; ; Anja started to answer, but quickly resumed eating as a dining room ; attendant brushed by. When the old lady had passed, she leaned forward ; slightly. "I don’t know… I just know that I can’t remember ; what they’re doing to me. To us. And whenever I try to call my ; parents, the line’s conveniently disconnected."
; ; Sofia kicked herself for not even thinking to try to call home. She ; must’ve been farther gone than she suspected. "I want to get out of ; here."
; ; "None of the students seem to leave, even the older ones. Whenever I ; get to the gate something happens, and the next thing I know I’m ; back in my room." Anja put down her fork to dab at her eyes with her ; napkin.
; ; "There has to be a way," Sofia whispered. "Tonight let’s meet up ; and —"
; ; "Oh!" Anja choked. She nearly knocked her glass over as she jumped ; up. "I have to go." And before Sofia could call after her, she heard a ; familiar voice.
; ; "Making new friends?" Bebel asked, fingers brushing against her hair ; as she slipped up behind her.
; ; Sofia was proud of herself for not leaping out of her skin. Tucking ; some hair behind one ear she shrugged, "Just chatting. Have a sit."
; ; Her lovely roommate slid into Anja’s vacant seat with catlike ; grace, eyeing Sofia expectantly. "Trading stories about the witches?"
; ; Sofia laughed at her. "Babs. Are you jealous?"
; ; Bebel’s eyes briefly flicked across the room. Clearly she ; was. Jealous, and something else. "Don’t be silly, I just want you ; to be happy here. So many of the new students… well, they can’t ; take the pressure."
; ; "I’ll see you at juries. Then we’ll see who can take pressure." ; Sofia was pretty sure that’s how she’d answer if she really were ; at a normal music school.
; ; Bebel seemed delighted. "There’s my dark little violista." ;
; ; Things had gone from bad to worse in quartet rehearsals. Miss Z may ; have got the best of Sofia in sight-singing class, but she resigned to ; die before she let Lewellyn push her around, so poor Miranda and Reese ; - more run down and tired each week - had to suffer through many tense ; hours punctuated with elaborate insults.
; ; Today they were reading something new, written by the head Musicology ; professor. It was kind of an indulgence really; they were even ; recording a run-through for her later in the week. Unlike most of her ; fellow students, Sofia was game for almost anything modern, but this ; piece looked like a real challenge. It was reminiscent of Penderecki, ; but even more concerned with textures and washes of sound. From ; Sofia’s reading habits, she could see that the score was organized ; by numerological principles. It was pretty arcane stuff that made her ; roll her eyes when she first looked it over.
; ; Lewellyn wasted no time baiting Sofia. "My my, Wednesday finally wore ; something besides black today." To which Sofia replied by sticking out ; her tongue. So she felt like looking sexy today, what about it? ; She’d almost forgotten that she packed the little burgundy velvet ; dress until she found it in the back of her closet that morning. It ; was exciting to doll up a little, even if there wasn’t a boy to be ; found for miles.
; ; The odd thing was, things began to go pretty smoothly once they ; started reading the new material. Sure there were a few train wrecks ; during the first movement while they adjusted to the unusual notation ; (the professor had even sprinkled a little glitter over the pages!), ; but Lewellyn was unusually charitable about starting over.
; ; Sofia was so engrossed in her part that she didn’t have time to ; scan the room as often as she usually did. When she did look up, she ; noticed that Reese and Miranda looked a little pale. At first she ; thought it was the ancient fluorescent lighting, but compared to them ; Lewellyn looked positively pink. Curiously, they were playing with a ; lot more oomph than usual, even though they seemed so tired and ; withdrawn.
; ; She didn’t have much of a chance to think about it, though. The ; second movement was very demanding, full of note choices and other ; decisions left up to her. So instead of merely reading down some sheet ; music, she had to improvise based on what the others were doing. It ; was draining to concentrate this much, but the piece was very lovely ; in the dark, menacing way Sofia liked best. She tried to follow the ; others, but she lagged behind. That’s when she realized something.
; ; Miranda and Reese weren’t listening to her at all. That had to be ; what was bogging things down: there was no interplay between them and ; her. And though she couldn’t look up from the music, she knew ; Lewellyn well enough to know she was smirking as she teased with her ; note choices, deliberately following her in close intervals at times, ; drawing her along in octaves at others. Soon Sofia found she was ; following Lewellyn’s lead.
; ; Then she noticed that Miranda and Reese were playing to Lewellyn, ; too. And it hit her — this piece wasn’t about four individuals ; contributing to a whole, it was about three following one. Threes and ; ones littered the score, and sensing this caused Sofia to actually ; droop forward a bit, either toward the page or toward Lewellyn.
; ; As they segued into the third movement a massive head rush overtook ; her. Stars sparkled at the edge of her vision, blurring into the ; glitter on the music. Weakly she noted that it was getting harder to ; draw her bow. Risking a glance during a long and particularly ; dissonant chord, she saw that Miranda and Reese were blinking sleepily ; over their music stands. Lewellyn was flushed, sitting up very ; straight. Her eyes met Sofia’s, then danced down to her music and ; back to hers, beckoning Sofia’s attention to the task at ; hand. Sofia took a deep breath and arched her back, her dress suddenly ; tight and uncomfortable. Grimly she realized that Lewellyn was somehow ; feeding on her, and on the other girls, but it took all her strength ; to simply sit and play, so she gave in and looked back to the music.
; ; Slowly, the rhythmless sheets of sound gave way to meter, and the pace ; quickened. As it did, Sofia felt her energy return. Only it felt ; different: metallic and bitter. It was purely a physical energy, ; because it did nothing to clear her head. Without looking up again, ; she knew that Lewellyn was staring intently at her, chasing her along ; the fretboard in minor seconds. The ending sounded positively eerie, ; as though there was an entire orchestra of strange instruments in the ; room rather than a quartet. Sofia heard brittle scraping and rattling ; and heavy chains. And lustful cries and howling. Her chin was sore ; from its tight grip on her viola and her legs were squeezed tightly ; together. Inexplicably, a gust of wind seemed to blow through the ; stuffy room, making her dress flap against her thighs. Rapt, she tore ; through her final measures with complete abandon, nearly breaking a ; string as their final, sustained chord cluster rang out. But rather ; than ending together, Lewellyn had a brief solo that seemed to commit ; the whole leering finale to the earth.
; ; Breathing heavily, Sofia lowered her instrument, only to be startled ; by a loud whack! Miranda’s cello had crashed to the floor and was ; now being joined by Reese, who spilled out of her chair with a ; sigh. Before Sofia knew what she was doing, she jumped from her seat, ; stepped over Reese, swatted away the music stand in front of Lewellyn ; and eagerly pressed her mouth to the green-eyed quartet leader’s. ;
; ; Sofia paced in the dark little stone passageway, shivering. The shit ; had really hit the fan at this so-called school and it was time to ; leave. Anja, who’d agreed to meet her here at two in the morning, ; was late.
; ; After quartet rehearsal the other day (or whatever you wanted to call ; it), and after she finally tore herself away from Lewellyn’s ; powerful charms, she sat in a courtyard for hours. Chain-smoking on a ; stone bench in chilly drizzle, she tried to get her head together, but ; clarity wouldn’t come. Why had she just locked lips (and a few ; other things) with another girl? A girl she couldn’t stand?
; ; By Sunday she wasn’t much better off, but she had avoided Bebel and ; Lewellyn all weekend and she was clear on one thing — get the hell ; out of this place or end up like poor, red-haired ; Hannah. Unfortunately, thoughts of escape were interspersed with ; images of Lewellyn, and Sofia’s breathing quickened at the thought ; of their bodies straining to press together, and the smell of ; Lewellyn’s breath, the taste of her mouth… This strong ; attraction to Evil Bitch didn’t seem right at all, but that ; didn’t make it any less powerful.
; ; Sofia put out a hand to the cold wall to steady herself. Her other ; shaking fingers tapped a cigarette out of the carton in a jittery but ; practiced motion, and she lit it greedily, hiding the flame to keep ; her cover of darkness. Where the hell was Anja? She squeezed her eyes ; shut, trying not to think of doing this by herself.
; ; Noises on the steps leading down to the passageway. Sofia ; instinctively crouched, clenching her fists, but a thin veil of fog ; parted to reveal Anja, white with fear and walking quickly toward her.
; ; "Did anyone see you?" Sofia whispered, her voice swallowed up in the ; late night quiet.
; ; Anja locked eyes with her. "I’m not sure, I…" Her eyelids ; fluttered and she appeared to listen for something.
; ; Sofia reached out to grip Anja’s comically huge fur coat. "Hey. Did ; anyone see you?"
; ; Anja seemed to snap out of it upon being touched. "I think they know, ; Sofia. I don’t think they followed me but I don’t think they ; need to. Please let’s go!" She was running on fumes — it’d ; obviously taken everything she had to get herself here.
; ; Sofia relented. "Okay kid. Let’s do it. Just like we planned." She ; steered Anja around in front of her, indicating that she was to lead, ; and the tiny girl surged forward. They were in a series of rarely used ; sunken passageways behind the equipment storage buildings, thus ; unlikely to encounter anyone. These same stone corridors led to a ; locked iron gate that looked easy to climb.
; ; Anja had obviously made it this far more than once. "This is where ; something usually happens," she said mournfully, shivering and eyeing ; the gate suspiciously.
; ; "This is where we get off this ride," Sofia replied softly as she ; scrambled up the gate, which made a quiet, rusty protest. At this ; hour, it might as well have been a burglar alarm, so she quickly ; reached down for Anja’s hand from the top. "Make it fast!"
; ; Anja hesitated, gripping herself. She moaned a little, wrestling with ; something unseen. "Please don’t make me do this!" she cried.
; ; "Shut up," Sofia hissed down to her, "and grab my hand."
; ; Anja wiped her nose and sniffed. "I wasn’t talking to you." Then ; she grasped Sofia’s hand and wrestled her way to the top of the ; gate.
; ; Getting down the other side was as easy as dropping ungracefully to ; the cobblestones, and Sofia didn’t take the time to register the ; dull pain of her unlimber calf muscles before hauling ass into a dark ; clearing, jerking Anja along behind her. She didn’t stop until they ; entered the adjoining forest, and only then because it was so dark she ; couldn’t see three inches in front of her. She turned to say ; something to Anja, noticed that the other girl was staring back at the ; Conservatory. "Hey. We’re almost there. I checked these woods out ; from the bell tower this afternoon and there’s a clearing real ; close by. Which leads to the road. Anja?"
; ; The other girl was still turned away from her, shaking in the cold.
; ; Sofia tugged experimentally on her sleeve. "Podemos nós sair, por ; favor?" She wasn’t sure why she lapsed into the feeble Portuguese ; she’d learned around Bebel these last few weeks, but Anja flinched, ; spun around and slipped by her, plunging into the dark woods. "Hey! ; Hold up!" Reaching out to keep from running into trees and branches, ; Sofia tried to follow.
; ; To her surprise, she found herself on a path with Anja barely visible ; a few meters off. In another moment they were in the clearing, and the ; moonlight swirling through the fog seemed like mid day after the dark ; little forest. Sofia tried to catch up to her comrade, who was running ; full tilt now and clutching her head. Sofia, wheezing from too many ; cigarettes, eventually began to narrow the gap. Anja seemed to be ; repeating broken phrases to herself as she ran, clearly deranged from ; the fear and adrenaline.
; ; "Anja," Sofia gasped as she tried to grab the little girl’s ; hood. "Hey stop!"
; ; "Don’t make me!" Anja was yelling. "I won’t do it!"
; ; "Goddamit!" Sofia breathed. "Stop! You’re! Gonna stop! For me ; right! Now!" Sofia lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Anja, ; struggling to a halt. The other girl was close to ; hyperventilating. "Hey, kid," she tried to soothe. "Everything’s ; cool. I think we huh!"
; ; A sharp pain sparkled in her abdomen as Anja whirled around and ; stepped away. Sofia looked down to see a little rip in her coat and ; the pullover beneath it. Then she looked up to see a long thorn in ; Anja’s hand. Her expression was anguished and her jaw worked ; wordlessly — she seemed apologetic in the grips of her fit. But ; Sofia clearly had other things to worry about, because everything ; around her seemed to recede at a sickening speed as she sank to her ; knees in the damp grass.
; ; Then the strangest sound reached her ears, like a long, slow organ ; tone. It took her a moment to realize that it was the bell in the ; tower at the Conservatory, and she was hallucinating; hearing it ; slowed down as she spilled to the ground. She rolled onto her back ; with the last muscle control she could muster as she realized that the ; bell was an alarm — "escaped initiates!"
; ; She saw Anja standing over her, looking off into the distance with her ; head cocked to one side. Witless. Sofia finally realized that her only ; ally had been fighting silent commands this whole time. That she’d ; already been consumed by the school and would never escape with ; her. Neither would Sofia, for that matter: she’d just lie here in ; the frost waiting for someone like Bebel or Miss Zemanova to come and ; collect her. Presently, she realized that Anja was speaking to ; someone. To her, it seemed.
; ; "…didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry and they’re ; coming for me now. Have you ever seen the Headmistress? No one ; has. They were too strong for me and I’m so sorry." Her tone ; shifted and Sofia could tell she was answering her controller ; then. "Yes ma’am. I shouldn’t have strayed from the road. The ; long road. I’ll find my way back."
; ; Anja curtsied and stepped over Sofia, who drifted into sleep. ;
; ; In the dream she was naked, kneeling in a forest clearing, regarded by ; silent cats before a spinning goblet. But that was the dream, and ; although Sofia remembered little about what was happening to her, she ; knew she was awake. Awake and naked in a forest clearing, kneeling ; with her wrists bound behind her back. And the cats were actually ; other women, Sofia realized with a giddiness that came from a week of ; being plied with herbs and concoctions, in teas and salves and ; pills. She was so delirious from the drugs in her system that she ; failed to notice the harsh winter chill on her skin. She was also ; woozy from the loss of roughly one pint of blood, most of which spun ; in the goblet in the air before her, suspended by a single violin ; string.
; ; Some of that blood darkened the lips of the women around her, who had ; sipped from the goblet before suspending it in front of Sofia and ; cruelly mesmerizing her with it. Now true colors were revealed, and it ; made perfect sense to see Bebel in black robes and with stained lips, ; chanting softly and forcing her to keep looking back to the ; goblet. Her roommate had been in charge of the strange proceedings of ; the last week, which took her out of the classroom and into ; frightening altars and basements. In these places she’d been bound, ; entranced, then pleasured. Repeatedly. She hadn’t been alone since ; the night she tried to escape. She remembered very little now, as the ; swaying crystal and blood took her deeper and deeper into herself.
; ; "Release yourself to us, young initiate," Bebel was imploring, very ; near her right ear. The other women continued to chant, now led by ; Miss Zemanova.
; ; Sofia made an attempt to close her eyes, and succeeded only in ; blurring the bright moonlit sparkles of the crystal somewhat. "Why ; don’t you take your witch-perv friends and piss off? Roomie."
; ; Bebel laughed musically. Not at all witch-like. The chanting continued ; around them. "That’s why you were chosen, Sofia. You’ve turned ; out to be strong. Not at all like your disappointing friends."
; ; Hannah and Anja. "What did you do to them?" Sofia asked softly.
; ; "We showed them so much, yet they resisted," Bebel said ; regretfully. "We have many secrets here. Secrets we’ve kept for a ; long time." She licked her lips near Sofia’s ear, making her ; shudder. "Hannah didn’t make the grade, so I’m afraid she’s ; no longer with us. Anja will be… rehabilitated."
; ; "What about me?"
; ; "That depends."
; ; "On what?" Sofia slurred. "On how long you and your pals want to take ; turns drilling me with strap-ons?"
; ; "It depends," Bebel said, her voice dipping, "on whether or not you ; submit to the Order. Which is why we’re here. You’re almost ; ready to meet the Headmistress." She rose from Sofia’s side and ; took her place in the circle. "Concentrate on your lifeblood, ; initiate."
; ; How heavy-handed, Sofia thought bleakly. My life, hanging by a ; thread. Or a string, as the case may be…
; ; Miss Zemanova and the other witches shifted the rhythm of their ; chanting, which immediately sucked at Sofia’s will. As she faded, ; she realized that they had allowed her to surface from her trance ; momentarily to plead her case to Bebel. Her resistance had been handed ; to her to examine, then locked away again where she couldn’t touch ; it.
; ; The rhythm of the voices began to get to her then, coaxing her body ; into betraying her. She sat up straighter as she began to tighten, to ; moisten and to swell. Waves of sensation assaulted her as her body ; sang its anticipation of impending contact with other bodies. Dark, ; perfect bodies that would ravish her on the cold ground, in the ; moonlight. Sofia’s head drooped forward, and her breath steamed ; over her bosom as the first hands began to touch her from all sides. ;
; ; "It’s time for you to meet someone."
; ; A light streamed into the dark, smelly basement from a door at the top ; of the stairs. It made Sofia wince and shift in her bonds against the ; stone wall. Paint, in different degrees of dryness, irritated her ; skin. Just about every hole in her body except her skin pores ached ; from penetration. It had been a long week.
; ; Someone was coming down the steps, but Sofia was too exhausted to ; focus her eyes. She’d become so accustomed to the constant assault ; that she longed for touch in its absence. The longing was like the ; dull ringing in her ears, or the pink and green splotches in her ; peripheral vision.
; ; Bebel had filled her senses for most of the day, overwhelming her (not ; too difficult as of late) when she wasn’t chanting to her. Sofia ; would’ve felt quite satisfied if she weren’t tied up in a ; basement, covered in ritualistic paint made from God knew what. She ; knew that she could leave this room if she’d yield to them, but she ; wouldn’t do that. She wished this unwanted visitor would leave her ; alone with her sweet-scented Mistress. Or was that ‘roommate’?
; ; A familiar voice answered the question that danced drunkenly in ; Sofia’s head. "Bebel is none of those things to you, ; child. She’s only here to show you the way."
; ; "Who?" Sofia began, frowning. "Who…" The woman in front of her was ; wearing a hooded cloak. That voice sounded awfully young to be calling ; her "child".
; ; Then Bebel leaned in to kiss her, making her dizzy. "It’s time to ; meet the Headmistress, initiate."
; ; Sofia craned her neck forward to sustain the kiss, and moaned in ; complaint when Bebel stepped away. Then she gasped sharply when she ; saw that the other woman had pulled the hood away from her face.
; ; "Lewellyn! You… You crazy bitch!" Sofia marveled.
; ; Her comely quartet leader smiled brightly at her. "Guilty as charged, ; Wednesday."
; ; This was simply too outrageous for Sofia to bear. The smoke and ; mirrors from the last two weeks fell away. For a moment, they’d ; almost had her thinking she was being slowly consumed by a real coven ; of witches. But this was just silly. They had to be deluded weirdos ; playing out a sick fantasy, like her friend Dustin who thought he was ; a vampire. He’d even bought a coffin! "Lewellyn… Come off ; it. Let me down."
; ; Lewellyn was still smiling, but she was showing her teeth a little too ; much. "Poor little Goth girl. Dressing in black, but clinging to her ; tiny world to the last." Then she leaned in close, inhaling the scent ; of Sofia’s painted, ravished body. "Let go, Sofia! It’s time to ; surrender to me in the darkness you’ve only been able to dream ; about, ‘til now!"
; ; Uncertainty mixed with the trance and the drugs, making Sofia feel ; nauseous. "Get real," she said unconvincingly.
; ; "Oh, I’m very real, my dear. And much older than you think. I ; founded this school long ago to strengthen my coven." Lewellyn reached ; out and began to stroke Sofia absently. "I like to stay connected to ; the world, and if I borrow enough energy from you children then I can ; masquerade as one of you, wandering the halls of this conservatory and ; looking for the most vibrant candidates. And I’ve had my eye on you ; since you auditioned for us last summer, you delicious, dark-haired ; thing." Her fingers were becoming bolder, kneading Sofia’s flesh ; hungrily. "I made sure that Bebel would keep you on the path. And when ; she couldn’t do that alone, I stepped in myself."
; ; Sofia dizzily recalled quartet rehearsals. Playing music with this ; witch while she fed off her, flushed and pink. She swallowed. "Please ; let me go."
; ; Lewellyn brushed her arms back and the cloak slid gracefully away from ; her impossibly lithe form. Naked except for the leather pants she ; always wore to rehearsals, she leaned in and nuzzled against Sofia, ; who forgot about the cold stone behind her and the ropes around her ; wrists as her muscles tightened and she saw stars. Lewellyn kissed her ; deeply. "Join me," she whispered into her mouth, and warm fog drifted ; into Sofia’s mind.
; ; Sofia jerked against the ropes in climax, wishing she could wrap her ; arms and legs around the jasmine-scented witch. At the same time she ; made one last try to break free. Then something broke inside her.
; ; Licking her lips, she murmured, "I yield, Headmistress Lewellyn." ;
; ; Of particular interest to this reviewer was Sofia Eaton’s ; performance during Penderecki’s Quartet for Viola and ; Orchestra. The young soloist seemed to hold the audience in thrall ; while under the spell of the music herself. At the end of the piece, ; as she held the final, elegant high tone while the orchestra imitated ; her, she also seemed to ensnare the orchestra with her charms. Overall ; a very compelling performance and I’ll watch Ms. Eaton’s future ; with interest. There’s a rumor floating around that she has already ; been offered tenure at the Nouskova Conservatory…
; ; FIN