WTF RATING: 5/5.Warning for everything. Do not read if you are weak of stomach or weak of anything. Seriously, turn back now.
Are you turning?
You got nobody to blame except yourself. And me.
And fucking, fucking Fortunato.
Staggering back, Fortunato pulled his shirt open and saw that the long, shallow cut across his chest had already stopped bleeding, would not even need stitches. He slammed the door to the hallway and walked across the room to kick out the plug of the phonograph. And then, in the strangled silence, he turned to face the dead [17- or 18-year-old] boy.
The power rippled and surged inside him. He could see the blood of the women on the dead boy’s hands, see the trail of blood that led from the crude pentagram on the floor, see the tracks where the boy had stood, the shadows where the women had died, and there, faintly, as if it had been somehow erased, the marks left by something else.
Lines of power still lingered inside the pentagram, like heat waves shimmering off a highway in the desert. Fortunato ground his hands into fists, felt cool sweat trickle down his chest. What had really happened here? Had the boy somehow conjured a demon? Or had the boy’s madness just been a tool in something vastly larger, something infinitely worse than a few random killings?
The boy could have told him, but the boy was dead…
He turned to go again, and again he couldn’t leave the room.
You have the power, he told himself. Can you walk away from here, knowing you have the power, refusing to use it?
Sweat ran down his face and arms.
The power was in the yod, the rasa, the sperm. Incredible power, more than he knew how to control yet. Enough to bring the dead back to life.
No, he though. I can’t do it. Not just because the thought made him sick to his stomach, but because he knew it would change him. It would be the point of no return, the point where he gave up being completely human.
But the power had already changed him. He had already seen things that those without it would never understand. Power corrupts, he’d been told, but now he saw how naive that was. Power enlightens. Power transforms.
He unfastened the dead boy’s belt, unzipped the bell-bottomed jeans, and pulled them off. The boy had craped[sic] and pissed in them when he died, and the smell made Fortunato wince. He threw the jeans into a corner and rolled the dead boy onto his stomach.
I can’t do this, Fortunato though. But he was already hard, and the tears rolled down his face as he knelt between the dead boy’s legs.
Scene break and THANK GOD FOR THAT.
He came almost immediately. It left him weak, weaker than he’d thought possible. He crawled away, pulling his pants back up, sick and disgusted and exhausted.
The dead boy began to twitch. …
“Look at me,” he said to the dead boy.
The dead boy’s hands clawed at the floor, gouging out bloody splinters. Slowly he pulled himself onto his hands and knees, and then lurched clumsily onto his feet. He turned and looked at Fortunato with empty eyes.
The eyes were horrible. They had that death was nothingness, that even a few seconds of it had been too much.
“Talk to me,” Fortunato said. Not anger anymore, but the memory of anger, kept him going. “Goddamn your white ass, talk to me. Tell me what this means. Tell me why.”
The dead boy stared at Fortunato. For an instant something flickered there, and the dead boy said “TIAMAT.” The word was whispered, but perfectly clear. Then the dead boy smiled. With both hands he reached up to his own throat and ripped it bloodily out through the skin of his neck and then, while Fortunato watched, tore it in half.
Yep. A single word of shitty foreshadowing (that actually refers to a space monster summoned by Egyptian Masons who get magic from raping people, because sure). That is what you buy with corpserape.
-“The Long, Dark Night of Fortunato,” by Lewis Shiner, in Wild Cards I. That’s right. The first fucking volume. They ledwith this. This is one of the origin stories that the whole team, George R. R. Martin included, thought, “This will make a great way to introduce these surely-to-become-beloved characters.”