Hey everyone! Welcome to part 8 of the "Get Off My Farm Punk" Exquisite Corpse, started by @blockurator. What an amazing, crazy story this is... I'm so excited that I get to write the ending! Only... I couldn't tie up all the loose ends in one post, so there will have to be a part 8B... but it's coming soon, I promise :D
In the meantime, here are parts 1 through 7, followed by my entry for today, part 8. To be continued...
Chapter 1 by @blockurator
@blockurator/exquisite-corpse-2-get-off-my-farm-punk-a72c9a1a217a2est
Chapter 2 by @sarez
@sarez/get-off-my-farm-punk-part-2-serial-short-story
Chapter 3 by @quillfire
@quillfire/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-3-the-genre-shakespeare-refused-to-write
Chapter 4 by @ireenchew
@ireenchew/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-four-4f2f1c1f17815est
Chapter 5 by @fromage
@fromage/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-five
Chapter 6 by @dranuvar
@dranuvar/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-six
Chapter 7 by @blueteddy
@blueteddy/exquisite-corpse-get-off-my-farm-punk-chapter-seven
Here is where Part 7 ended:
Quetzalcoatl’s eyes narrowed into slits when he saw who sat on the other side of the desk. “What is the meaning of this? Cihuacoatl said you were dead.”
Tezcatlipoca smiled back at his old friend. As much as he enjoyed his new life, it was thrilling to be recognized for what he truly was. “You can’t blame her for thinking as much old friend, it cost me a good deal of money to stage my death. Now, I heard you were seeking an audience with the prince of hell?”
Quetzal cleared his throat. "Yes. Unfortunately, yes. That is the situation. I have to... er... obtain an audience. To ask Prince Asmodeus. For... help." His voice faltered at the last two words, so that they were barely audible.
Tezcatlipoca craned his head forward, smiling genially: "I'm sorry, I missed that. Ask for... what?"
"Help." Replied Cihuacoatl. "He has to ask Asmodeus for help."
"Ah. I see..." Tezcatlipoca breathed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in front of him. "A risky endeavor, wouldn't you say?"
"It is what must be done", Quetzal countered hotly. "Risk doesn't factor in. I personally find the situation distasteful... demons are not appropriate allies for a god", (here he turned his head and spat scornfully on the floor, at which the greasy haired boy appeared with a bottle of cleaning spray and a cloth to wipe it up), "but that, also, makes no difference. We must restore our pantheon to its former glory. And to a glory greater still. We must show these humans a new meaning of fear."
"Hmmnnn... An interesting perspective." Tezca snapped his fingers and a jaguar appeared, walking on its hind legs. It carried a tray of gold, heaped with assorted delicacies, along with five elegant crystal flutes filled with an incandescent, golden-orange liquid. "You must be famished. Coming back out of the void is hungry work! And you, Cihuacoatl, it has been some time, I assume, since you've tasted the sacred nectar? It will restore your youth, my dear, though I must say your beauty needs no restoration. And you, human. Fromage, was it?" Tezca chuckled gently. "Well, taste this. It is seldom a human gets the opportunity to eat and drink with gods. This one in particular, the yellow one. Here, taste it. Compared to this, all common cheeses are as dust in the mouths of the dead."
Fromage raised his eyebrows, but he lifted the hors d'oeuvre to his lips and bit into it. His eyes closed, eyelids fluttering slightly. "Holy fuck" he murmured.
Quetzal laughed. "It seems our friend likes your hospitality, Tezcatlipoca. Now that you mention it, I myself do feel ravenously hungry. I could eat a small village at one gulp. Pass those over here."
Cihuacoatl lifted one of the flutes delicately in her slender fingers, and sipped, eyes on Quetzalcoatl. As she did, her white hair turned to black and unraveled itself from the bun on the top of her head, cascading over her shoulders in a silken flood. Color came to her cheeks, and clarity to her dark eyes. She smiled at him. Quetzal returned her look as he drank, the pupils of his eyes a luminous, smoldering gold. Then he turned back to Tezcatlipoca.
"This is excellent nectar!" he proclaimed. "Damn good. Where'd you get it? What's the vintage?"
Tezcatlipoca simply smiled. "Every god has his secrets."
"Uh huh... I see how it is. Ok, keep your secrets," replied Quetzalcoatl. "At least these. The liquid I'm after is not nectar but blood. The blood of human sacrifice. We require believers, Tez. We are gods. We are meant to be worshipped."
"There are many varieties of worship", Tezca mused by way of reply. "If it's blood you seek, here, have some." He snapped his fingers again, and a lovely young woman appeared, holding a tray bearing an obsidian blade, and a gold cup. She drew the blade along the palm of her own hand, and let the blood flow into the cup. Then she offered it to Quetzal, who accepted it, and drank.
"Mmmmm... nothing in this world compares to the blood of a virgin", he whispered, his eyes closing and a slow smile spreading across his face, as he leaned his head against the back of his chair.
Tezcatlipoca grinned. "Delicious, isn't she?"
Despite his best efforts to be polite, Fromage looked sick. He put a hand to his mouth.
"Ah", Tezca said, "Our human guest is not feeling well. Here Mr. Fromage, have a drink of nectar, it will set you right again."
Fromage sampled the mysterious drink. Immediately his color returned, and a smile came to his lips. "Remarkable", he murmured. "This is the strangest, most delicious thing I've ever tasted.
"Indeed", said Tezcatlipoca, returning his attention to Quetzalcoatl and Cihuacoatl. "So. Tell me more about this plan of yours."
"It's simple", Cihuacoatl replied. "All we need are the shards of divinity. You have some of those, I believe. At least one. Also the aid of Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, to open The Forbidden Portal. In order to obtain his favor, we will probably need some bargaining chips. Say, Ebenezer Lightwood's hot sister, for instance. And maybe my car, which is honestly worth more than a portal any day."
At this the blood drained from Quetzal's face, and his fingers curled around the arms of his chair. "Clarissa? You would throw her soul into this bargain?", he asked in a voice that trembled ever so slightly.
Cihuacoatl's lovely eyes looked at him sidelong. "Why? Do you find her attractive?"
Quetzal coughed awkwardly. "Umm... ergh, no", he replied, unconvincingly. "Your beauty, Cihua, eclipses all others. As it always has, and always will, until the day the world ends, and all gods disappear. But today is not that day."
"Damn", Fromage muttered. "I gotta see this Lightwood chick."
"Mmmmnnnnn." Cihuacoatl added under her breath. "Me too. I 'gotta' see her burn. Feel her heart beating in my hand. And taste her blood on my lips."
Tezcatlipoca looked round at all three of them. "I see. You are determined to return things to the way they were." He took a sip from his glass (which looked exactly like the others', except that it bore an ideogram of himself carved into the base). He swished the liquid around his mouth, swallowed. "I can't let you do that." he said flatly.
"WHAT?!?!?" blurted Quetzalcoatl, horrified. "What are you saying? You know you need this. Every bit as much as we do!"
Tezcatlipoca smiled indulgently. "No", he replied. "I don't. Why do you think I went to the trouble of faking my own death? As I said before, there is more than one way to be worshipped. Gold is no longer the only currency of power. Nor is blood. That currency these days flies through the clouds. I rule in a new way, one you haven't yet imagined. I have my fill of supplicants, and sacrifices made in my honor. My face graces the covers of magazines, I am interviewed on television, on the internet... but nobody knows who I really am. Therein lies my power. I am a modern day god. I don't need the two of you running around wreaking havoc, lighting people and buildings on fire, wantonly destroying my worshippers. Drawing the wrong kind of attention. To yourselves, and ultimately, to me."
"You can't stop us..." Quetzalcoatl began.
"Ah!", Tezca laughed. "Yes, I knew you'd say that my dear Quetzal. So predictable you are my friend. Some things don't change..."
Cihuacoatl was gazing fixedly at the golden tray. "Wait..." she said slowly, "Who is the fifth drink for?"
Tezcatlipoca opened his mouth to answer her question, but than his eyes moved to look past her shoulder at somebody who was just coming in. "Welcome", he nodded graciously, "Have some nectar."
Everybody turned to look at the new arrival. It was NYPD Homicide Detective Jack Hampton. He looked terminally confused, and frightened. His body was covered with burns, his clothes torn, his eyes wide, his form transparent. Wait... transparent?
"Sorry", Quetzalcoatl said tentatively, "Uhhh... maybe this is rude of me, but may I ask, are you by any chance... dead?"
Hampton shook his head emphatically.
"B'cuz... ya look dead", Quetzal continued.
Hampton grimaced.
"Very dead", agreed Cihua.
The police chief sighed and sank into the last available overstuffed anaconda skin chair. But being phantasmic, he sank all the way past the upholstery and into the chair itself.
"Boy", Quetzal quipped, "Can that guy sink into a chair, or what?!?"
"Ugh. Maybe don't quit your day job, Quetzy. Comedy isn't your strong suit", Fromage muttered.
Quetzalcoatl rounded on him, flickering flames suddenly wreathing his head. "Did you speak, insolent mortal?!"
"Forgive him", Tezcatlipoca laughed. "He's had too much nectar."
"Any amount is too much for the likes of him", grumbled Quetzalcoatl.
"No, I'm still alive", Hampton said suddenly. "According to the heart monitor, anyway."
"Good", Tezcatlipoca nodded. "Then you will live to see your lovely wife again, as long as you do what I ask."
Hampton swallowed. "Which is?"
"A trifling thing. You must cover up the events of the past day."
Hampton's jaw dropped. "That... can't be done", he replied, dazed. "There were multiple explosions, injuries, deaths, a flaming guy with wings" (Here Quetzalcoatl scoffed loudly) "and to top it all off, an Aston fucking Martin. There's no way anyone's keeping this quiet."
"Oh, there are ways", Tezcatlipoca assured him. "For instance, with enough poison, you could kill every single one of the remaining witnesses."
Hampton shook his head, an expression of horror on his face.
"Alternatively, with enough money, you could easily bribe the media to report that it was all a hoax."
Hampton looked baffled at first, then awed. That would have to be a lot of cheddar.
"Or," Tezcatlipoca continued, "you could simply use this:" And he held out a small vial of silvery white powder, that glowed faintly.
Hampton shook his head again, as if he was trying to wake up from a bad dream. "What is it?"
Now it was Cihuacoatl's turn to look horrified. "It's a shard of divinity", she gasped. "You ground it up..."
Tezca laughed. "Yes. I did. It's of more use to me this way, in this particular instance. Worry not, Cihua, you were correct. I have many, many more."
Cihuacoatl blanched, then flushed with anger. "Have you no shame? Is there nothing sacred to you anymore Tez?"
Tezcatlipoca laughed heartily at that. "What is sacred to me is that which has a use. Mr. Hampton's use is to erase the record of your transgressions, Cihua. Mr. Hampton, you will scatter a pinch of this powder at each of the locations where these three", he nodded at Quetzal, Cihua, and Fromage, "wreaked public havoc today. And then you will trace this ideograph, the one on the label, on the ground. The powder's effectiveness will reach to all involved in the incident. If you do this, your life will be restored to you. Are we agreed?"
Hampton just stared at him. At all four of them. Then he nodded numbly.
"Good." Tezcatlipoca nodded. "You are a sacred messenger then." He smiled at the ghostly figure and handed him the vial, which didn't slip through his phantom fingers, but floated along with him as he turned and left the room.
Quetzalcoatl was staring daggers at Tezcatlipoca. "I don't think I like you anymore. You are a coward and a traitor."
"On the contrary my dear Quetzal", Tezcatlipoca replied. "I'm a survivor."
Quetzalcoatl laughed. It was a deep, terrifying laugh. His eyes were on fire. "You won't survive..."
Tezcatlipoca just leaned back in his chair again, eyeing Quetzal with amusement. "Yes, please tell me. Survive?", he murmured.
"You won't survive..." Quetzalcoatl's voice faltered. He looked over at Cihuacoatl, only to see that she was already asleep, nestled in the soft ocean of her hair. Fromage, in the next chair over, was snoring softly. "You won't survive... Survive... this..."
Quetzal's eyelids were way too heavy. The room began to spin. He shifted his gaze to Tezcatlipoca. "You..." he said. "you... you drug..."
And from there it was only a short slide into oblivion.
©2018 Bennett Italia, all rights reserved.
