At The Lombardy Hotel- Part 3

Author: Audacity

How To Use Your Special Skills
To Get A Head In Your Job!

For Tim, watching a Light Bearer’s kind eyes curdle in their skulls till they looked and smelled like a rancid, spoiled milk and rotten egg soufflé wasn’t even the worst of it. Their dead tongues inevitably turning black however, always reminded Tim of a chow chow dog he’d had as a kid; “his name was Chipper” he’d recall.

And he would remember in that moment that he had loved Chipper very much. And had cried into his beautiful dead fur as he lay on a metal table in the vet’s office, after getting a special treat of an injection that his mother INSISTED had been a form of mercy. But as Tim cried into Chipper’s fur all those years ago now, Chipper’s body already stiffening into rigor mortis, his skin turning clammy and cold, the giving of Chipper’s “special shot” hadn’t felt like some kind of mercy to 9 year old Tim…it felt like he’d just murdered his best friend. And in that moment, he hated his mother for it. And despite his most logical superego thinking, in the recesses of his subconscious mind Tim never really forgave her for it. Ever.

This was merely a fleeting thought that flew by in seconds in his actual head. But it was there. As was an extremely minute, blink and you miss it, fleeting feeling of loss. Then as quickly as it came it was gone, and he’d snap back to the present goings on in front of him. And what a sight those goings on always were.

The Light Bearers’ pitch black tongues would start flapping around on their chins and jaws as their energy poured out into him. Their jaws expanding past breaking, leaving strings of sinew ribboning out of their mouths on both side. Like the streamers they used to put on the handlebars of kid’s bikes. Lovely colors of various hues, blue, silver metallic, orange, green; they’d always look so pretty blowing in the breeze as some kid pedaled like her life depended on it. But the sinew streamers blowing in the breeze of the Light Bearer’s exiting essence, well these streamers of meat were always bright red. And not nearly as cheerful.

Once their essence was nearly sucked out, the absence of it left the Light Bearer’s meat suit shriveled up and husked out like a corn cob, turned inward like a dead flower: blackened and empty.

Then in their last desperate breath before he swallowed their essence down, their bowels and bladders let it all go. And they gave up the ghost.

The stench of these husked out dead flowers, mingled with the feces and urine they always expelled after their essence had flowed out and into him, was stomach churningly horrific. The Night Manager had told Tim he’d get used to the ghastly stench. But Tim never did, even after 8 years.

But their husked out bodies, which had been raped and drugged and ravished by The Managers before the ceremony as was necessary to turn their light into dark energy mana for him to swallow down, really did some rocking and rolling before it would lay still forever more. And the mana conversion itself? Well, it was a dreadful sight indeed.

Once Tim mentally latched onto the Light Bearers consciousness, the naked sacrifice’s organs would begin liquifying and leaking out of their rectum, urethras, even their mammary glands if applicable. It poured out of every orrafice BUT their eyes; which instead did that curdling thing in their skull. And has it converted to darkness and liquified, all of it would flow into Tim through his open mouth and down his throat into his own churning organs, blood and stomach acid. His body converting it into mana for the dark dirty Lamashtu. But first it had to pass over his taste buds. And wanting to regurgitate but helpless to do anything but swallow, the Light Bearer’s organ, blood, bone, and soul essence would flow into his mouth, a dark torrent of sickly sweet and repugnant liquified meat that made his eyes run with water, and his head swim with the sheet horror of what he was ingesting.

But the largest payload of mana was always from the females. And for Lamashtu, it was all females, all the time.

In the female sacrifices that they all called fem sacs for short, there’d be a sudden explosion of immensely overflowing and plopping globs of dark mana that always fell from their tunnels. As in the tunnel from which nearly all human life spills forth- the uterus, womb, and vagina. Then it would all flow into his body through his mouth.

But unfortunately for Tim, not even THIS was the worst it could get. More on that in in a minute though.

So, where were we? Oh, ok. Let’s review what happens after Tim swallows a Light Bearers essence down…and what makes him, and those like him, different. However, there is one caveat to an ability like Tim’s: it is not some ability that can be taught or achieved through hard work, obsessive prayer to either the dark or the light, deep magik or studious study. No. The only way to possess this ability, is by divine ordnance.

You see, Tim is one of a very few select human beings throughout all of recorded time, that were born to be in the service of an honest to goodness (or badness) deity. It’s Tim (and the few like him) out of the whole human race, that contain within them a power so rare, that it’s largely remained hidden, hushed and completely unknown by the commonplace of humanity. All made possible by a very special pact that the was made, a very, very long time ago. But more on that in a minute.

Because it was Tim, specifically HIS organs and rare special energy and essence that really, did the work that made him, and all of them really, all of the Swallowers and both dark and light converters, the big bucks. You see, he was born special. More special than most. And for better or worse, that special made him chosen. And has mentioned

Because once Tim had swallowed down the entire essence from the Light Bearer, it was his innards that would churn the essence into mana: an absorbable food fit for a deity. In his case, the dark deity Lamashtu. Then once the pain had been swallowed and converted internally by Tim, he’d proceed with locking his lips to Lamashtu’s beak, as he’d helplessly regurgitate the dark mana into the stinking, dark black, gaping maw. He would then become helpless as Lamashtu sucked it out of him like a fucking vacuum with 454 horse power. Afterwards, he’d sleep for two days. Nightmares of the feeding playing over and over in his broken souled brain, yet helpless to wake himself and escape them.

Viewing the remains and knowing he caused all of that, well that hurt Tim’s conscience a bit. But even that was far from the worst of it.

Because the worst of it, the “worst of all” of it…were the pregnant ones. Because if the fem sac was pregnant, the fetus flowed out of their vagina completely in tact. And that was a horror unlike any other.

Because it had never drawn breath, the fetus energy had never become polluted like it is in all living people. Therefore it didn’t need to be converted into the mana to be absorbed. It could be absorbed whole. And Tim had to swallow it whole, bones and all.

When the dead fetus poured into him through his mouth, and he felt the forever stillborn limbs and cranium pass over his tongue and taste buds, it always tasted like butter. And he’d immediately remember his own mother making him scrambled eggs with buttered toast as a child. And it was a sickening, nauseating, head swimming sensation. Yet he couldn’t help but get hungry and salivate from the memory. Which disgusted him to the point of self hatred. And sometimes swallowing the fetus whole left hair stuck in his teeth…if the baby had been blessed with a full head of hair…the stuck hair was like a residual reminder of a life that could have been, but never was. He’d floss it out and then gag and vomit. Sometimes, he’d accidentally swallow the hair. And he’d feel another part of himself die.

And if an unborn fetus were involved in the mana feeding, Lamashtu was so disgustingly greedy for it. For a heaping portion of the fetus special, she’d actually grip both is arms in her talons, cutting into his flesh. Screeching with pleasure and joy, as she consumed her absolute favorite meal like it was the fucking last supper.

These were the moments Tim often thought about going back to college. And getting a real job. Cause even with a useless degree he’d probably end up never using, that would still be better than this soul killing work he’d settled down into. After all, fetus swallowing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

The fetus swallowing and regurgitating were also the moments he really contemplated just killing hinself.

But he knew that quitting wasn’t an option. At least if he wanted to continue to go on living. And even if he committed suicide, they’d just find some way to bring him back. Because the ugly truth was: You don’t quit and end God feeding. It ends you. Because even attempting to do so would result in you becoming the dead feed, or the brought back indentured servant. And for your enslavement, you could kiss that great paycheck goodbye.

So day after day, Tim went to work. Feeding Lamashtu, his assigned deity. He did concede though, that converting a human’s blindingly bright essence into mana then allowing it to enter into him was livable he guessed. But when it flowed out of him in a foul smelling explosion of pain and emptying, thick black and smelling of sulfur, suffering and death that left him sick snd nauseas for days, it was suicide worthy. Yet still somehow, he trudged on.

You may be wondering why it’s like this. Who created this fucked up system of checks and balances? Why did people like Tim even exist? Who essentially decided to turn human beings into food for the gods? And more importantly, WHY? It’s a long guarded secret that might as well be myth. But as hard as it is to believe, unfortunately it’s the truth. A truth I’d be risking everything to tell you. But I do value the importance of setting a record straight. And the fact that truth dies the minute it stops being recognized as the truth.

Let me sit and contemplate it awhile. I’ll get back to you.

In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this: Never tell anyone God bless you. You have no idea just how stupid what you’re saying actually is.

*Thanks for your patience in waiting for this installment. I apologize for any typos, bad grammar or fucked up editing. I have a lot going on right now. Not as much as “Tim”, but a lot 🤣 Hopefully despite its short comings, you’ll enjoy it. It’s a wicked little read and I’m having a lot of fun writing it. Cheers all.

This is a work of fiction and an original horror chapter play by the author, told in 6 parts. Any similarities to actual persons living or dead, or any other written works of any medium is merely coincidental.