The blankets were wrapped tightly around her body, wrapped like a rope around her length, bunched up and awkward; the blankets of a fitful sleep. Her face is hot and red, tears streaking down her face and to her pillow, covered in salted tears. She sniffled and slept restlessly, alone in her mid day nap.

Anjasa was back in the temple, though the edges were hazy and blurred although it were being observed through mild tunnel vision. There were women surrounding her, their faces half hidden. They were outstretching their matching hands to her, begging for her to take them. Numue was the most tempting, her hand so soft and subtle, a pale pink. Her hair was a soft strawberry blonde, pulled back in a loose pony tail. Her dress was a simple robe, a plain blue colour with silver hemming. Her face was the most hidden, but she beckoned in a meek, joyful way.

She was the innocence and passion and the experimentation and the love. She had all the capacity in the world for love, her heart open to all.

But then was Sunia, her hair dyed black and cut short, her body language shy but hard. Her hand was on her hip in a less rehearsed, careless manner. She didn’t beckon. She didn’t beg. She just waited for the inevitable. Sunia was always waiting for the inevitable.

Jenek was bigger than life. She towered among the others, her body broad and strong. At her wings were too matching troll hands, clasping her shoulders possessively as she stood ahead of the crowd. Her voice was so loud, so shrill. What was she saying? It was all garbled, a mix between man and demon. Even through the shroud of darkness, her face was the most visible. Her features were hard and beautiful, her eyes with a dangerous glint of mocking and daring.

Zu’ul faded to the background, looking almost lost, as if she were just trying to be left alone. She didn’t beckon. Her clothes were torn and dirty, revealing her feral form. Her hair was wild and teased. She let out a tiny, almost envious snarl as she stared at the troll hands upon Jenek’s shoulders.

Lalita stood proudly, her clothes just as revealing as Zu’ul’s, but her hair a bright, shiny gold, her clothing rich and expensive. Elegant bangles jingled against her wrists, a chain around her stomach. She beckoned with a teasing, girlish giggle, wiggling her tiny little fingers in a seductive manner.

Rajani was docile, reserved. Her hair was held back in a tight little bun and her actions were cautious and rehearsed. She wore a modest, long robe with no fancy decorations. She was meek, but her finger trailed lovingly along Lalita’s bare arm, then over her stomach, with longing and desire.

Kaesa’s face was the only one that was pronounced and it looked just like hers. Black hair, brushed teasingly over her face. A buzzing energy emitted from her, and her eyes glowed a bright green. She caressed herself before shrugging to Anjasa. She looked over at Jenek with a small movement, then turned back to Anjasa as she leaned in to whisper, her face clear and disturbed, “Goodbye little sister…”

Jenek howled with rage, her face flying into view as she moved to pin Anjasa down. Anjasa tried to dodge but her movements were slow and bulky as though she were moving through water. Jenek pinned her arms down as she sat on her chest, tentacles snaking out of her full lips. The two trolls stood guard at either side of their mistress, watching with a detached interest.

“Summon Jhakar!” Jenek screeched, her words piercing through Anjasa’s ears with a foreign and ghostly pitch like that of a banshee.

Anjasa shook her head in the same slow, water clogged motion, “I can’t let you see,” she whispered, “I can’t let you.” Tears streamed down the frightened rogue’s face as she sucked back her sobs. Jenek’s appearance immediately changed to resemble Anjasa’s own, though younger and with a more deadly, pleased gaze. “Don’t you remember where you came from?” she whispered in the pinned woman’s ear, her voice low and seductive as she licks along the rim.

“Don’t you remember the good times we had? You had no pretenses then. You knew what you were and who you were. Now what are you?” Anjasa winced at the words, blubbering slightly, “I’m Anjasa Vilelight, Chieftess of the Burning Tusk Tribe!”

“What part of that is you and what part is that everyone else?”

The words cut through her heart, causing her to buck in instinctive pain, her stomach tightening into a knot. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, “I’m happy!”

“Then why do you call us back each night?”

“Because!” Anjasa cried out, “I need to keep it all separate!”

Jenek licked her ear once more, suckling the tip slightly, “Do you remember that orc? Did he ever find us after?” Anjasa nodded once. “And what did he do?” she whispered.

“What they all do,” Anjasa poured out quietly through her deep sniffles.

“Jhakar knows us all, Death’s Mate. He knows you. He loves you. He just needs you to open up a little more,” there was a hiss in Anjasa’s ear and she whipped her head away from the sound, looking over to Jenek as her tongue curled into a long, thick pulsing tentacle. Anjasa screamed and the two troll men knelt down to hold her still, covering her mouth with their thick, blue hands.

“You remember this, Anjasa? It wasn’t long ago,” she motioned to Kaesa to step forward into the light, her face soft and devious, “You’d pin them down and taunt them. You did that. Wasn’t so long ago, was it. I bet you still think of it.” Jenek ran her hands over Anjasa’s body, leaning back and behind her as she trailed her fingers up and down, drawing attention to the nudity that suddenly became quite apparent as her heat pressed against Jenek’s fingers.

“You used to love it. But you got soft,” she flicks her eyes to Numue with disdain, then to Lalita, “You weren’t happy with this before. The only time you were happy was when we were together. A big, happy family. Away from it all. The troll,” she hissed, “doesn’t like you soft. He only ever liked you when you,” she licked her cheek with the tentacled tongue, “worshiped him. But look how long that lasted. It could never last. Not for you. You don’t deserve it.”

Jenek scowled and the two troll’s pressed their broad fingers into her mouth, parting her lips and pulling it open. Jenek pressed her throbbing tongue passed the lips, into her mouth and as Anjasa gagged and moaned, the tongue delved deeper, down her throat, probing there as her hands wander down over Anjasa’s stomach, grabbing at her mound angrily before rising up her hand and pressing it roughly to her lower stomach, pressing down.

She sat back up, her tongue recoiled within her own blackened and sticky lips, a small, delicate smile of evil intent lacing her face, “And now you think you can undo what father did to you? He took that part of you to free you. To give you what you need,” another hiss, “It will be the spawn of evil,” she purrs and smiles down at Anjasa, “unless…”

Anjasa’s mouth was still held open by the two troll digits but she struggled to nod.

“Tell me where Jhakar is, dear. That’s all. Tell me where he is.”

Anjasa’s eyes darted open and took a moment to adjust to the light of the midday heat, partially blocked by the drapes. Her face was covered in tears, her body layered in sweat. She panted desperately as she clutched her legs to her in fetal position, rocking as she struggled to put the puzzle back together once more.

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