𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑜𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠 🌘 (holyrites) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2020-11-01 23:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | luna olmos |
WHO Luna Olmos
WHEN October 31st
WHAT Surely this is enough to prove yourself to a God.
WARNINGS animal cruelty, blood, and some Halloween spooks
It was nearing 9pm on Halloween night, and above Luna the moon was full and bright even through the canopy of trees. Earlier in the year she had pictured that this night would bring some sort of amazing costume party, but it was funny how the Fates decided to have things go. (Not that she'd yet met the Fates, capital F.) There was a list and there was a plan and, by god, Luna was ready to tick some things off. Step One was collecting a vehicle. Luna had done her googling the night before and reserved a Nissan NV200 – a name that meant nothing to her, but in the picture it was a silver van that boasted plenty of cargo space. Once she had it back at the apartment, Luna needed three trips downstairs to bring everything she needed, and she pushed it all into the back, hard up against the front seats. Luna blew her breath out at the hair that had fallen over her face and then tied it up into a messy top knot. Her whole look today was casual – faded blue jeans, plain black hoodie, comfortable sneakers – and it felt a little blasphemous to be so un-goth on this, the gothest day of the year. Halloween would have to forgive her. She was on a mission. It was a two-hour drive to her first location, and Luna let music keep her company. She’d never driven this far out of the city, and she watched as the landscape became more and more rural, trees and fields taking the place of cement and crowded streets. She was getting anxious and fidgety as she got closer to the farm, her GPS leading the way. It sounded confident about the direction, even if Luna didn’t feel it, and when she pulled up outside the house at Brigg’s Farm, Luna sat in the car for a little longer to consider what she was doing. Maybe this was the time to turn around and go home. Maybe this was the chance to forget this whole idea. But she’d come so far, and every day working on getting back in Hermes’ good graces was another day that made her desperate for it to happen. Everything Luna had ever let go of had claw marks on it, and she wasn’t about to stop clawing now. She got out of the car and headed for the house. There was an American flag flying from the porch, a confederate flag beside it. The man who answered looked at her with distrustful interest and she said, through the screen door, “Hi, I’m Luna. I spoke to a Jeremy on the phone?” The door opened and the guy came outside with a nod. “Yeah, hey, I’m Jeremy.” He held out his hand and Luna shook it, making herself smile as though this was all about to be very normal, and she didn’t feel weird about it. “So you’re looking to buy one of the goats?” “That’s right.” He considered her and Luna waited for a follow up question, but none came. Instead he waved that she should follow him, and started making his way down the side of the house. She could already hear (and smell) the goats before she saw them. But, wow, there really were a lot of goats here. She watched them frolicking about behind fences, all different colours and sizes. “I’d be selling you one of the year-old ones.” Jeremy pointed to a couple by the fence that were similar in size. “That’s usually the oldest you want to go for the most tender meat. You slaughtering this yourself?” Luna nodded, watching the goats. “You done this a lot?” Luna shook her head and looked at him. “No, this will be my first time,” she said. “But my husband has been doing it for years, and he’s going to teach me. I’m trying to be more self-sufficient,” she added, in an undertone. “Sick of the government trying to tell me my business.” It was a play based on nothing more than him being a rural farmer with a confederate flag, but from his nod she thought it might have been a correct guess. “It’s all gonna be fucking socialism if they get their way.” “Exactly,” Luna agreed. “You have any slaughtering tips, as a professional?” “Yeah,” he said, opening the gate and letting her in with the goats. He grabbed a passing one and held it close. “I can give you a few pointers to watch out for.” And Luna listened carefully to each pointer Jeremy gave, some of them things she’d already read about in her studying up for this, and a few things she hadn’t thought of yet. It was useful to see him point to parts of the goat when he explained, a wriggling moving animal more instructive than still pictures. Afterwards Luna gave him the money, and Jeremy gave her the goat – a white and black patchy thing with big soulful eyes. Luna put him into the back of the van where she’d spread out a tarp and climbed in with him. “Hi,” she said, feeding him pieces of carrot from the flat of her hand. “I’m really sorry about this. But… I guess if it wasn’t me, it would just be someone else.” She scratched him behind the ear and watched him munch for a bit. She’d make sure she did it well. A part of her thought maybe she should give him a name, but the larger part of her was sensible enough to know that was a terrible idea. You didn’t name animals you were going to kill. That was surely the first thing they taught you working on an animal farm. Getting attached wouldn’t be helpful. The cabin she’d rented was a further two and a half hours drive, and very much out of the way. It was usually only available in the summer and spring, but had Luna offered them double their usual price and they were happy to break their usual rules for her. The forest was still green and dense, mostly pines and spruce, their needles crunching underfoot as Luna carried things to the porch of the cabin. It felt strange and freeing to think that she was so far from anyone else, and completely alone. She woods reminded her a little of Colorado, but she pushed that thought away. Michele wasn’t allowed to intrude on this night. This night was her own and – soon – Hermes’. She threw her backpack onto the bed and went outside to focus on the more important things. On a large fallen log, cut in half – clearly dragged into the small clearing to act as a seat - Luna started setting out candles and bowls of food and bottles of alcohol. She brought Goat over to the porch and tied him onto one of the posts with a long length of rope, so he could still move around. Then she dumped the hay bale near him, and watched him start to chew at it. Goat was settled, time for everything else. As she set up the altar properly, she began her praying out loud. “Hermes, draw near, and to my prayer incline, messenger of Zeus, and Maia's son divine; prefect of contests, ruler of mankind, with heart almighty, and a prudent mind.” She started stacking wood into the fire barrel already waiting, and adding fire lighters beneath the logs. “Celestial messenger of various skill, whose powerful arts could watchful Argos kill. With winged feet 'tis thine through air to course, O friend of man, and prophet of discourse.” Goat chewed on hay and watched her thoughtfully. “Great life-supporter, to rejoice is thine in arts gymnastic, and in fraud divine. With power endued all language to explain, of care the loosener, and the source of gain. Whose hand contains of blameless peace the rod, Korykion, blessed, profitable God.” From the porch she gathered more candles to set up on the altar. “Of various speech, whose aid in works we find, and in necessities to mortal kind. Dire weapon of the tongue, which men revere, be present, Hermes, and thy suppliant hear.” She repeated the prayer over and over, as she got everything prepared. Then, when it was, she stopped praying and went inside to get changed and eat something. The sun was beginning to set, and within the deep trees darkness was coming with speed. Luna raised her hands to the moon, firelight and moonlight and candlelight bathing her, her dark hair down and loosen, her long sleeved gown in lace of the purest white. “Iō Hermes!” She called, eyes fixed to the bright full moon for a moment. Her voice felt swallowed up by the forest. “Iō Hermes!” She turned to face the altar and began to speak. She didn’t yell her next words, but she spoke them loud as though to an audience. As though she were high priestess leading an entire coven tonight. “Hermes, draw near, and my plain prayer hear! Hear me, swift god, o you of the winged sandals! Hear me, bright god, o you holding the kerykeon! Hear me, sly god, o you of thieves and robbers! Hear me, wise god, o you leading men, spirits, and gods!” Into the fire Luna began to gently place the fine foods that were for Hermes – expensive and delicious things, items he’d asked her to bring him in the past, things that she knew he enjoyed. She committed them to the flames and felt, as she did it, a connection to people thousands of years ago that she had never met. “Gracious lord Hermes, guide and traveler! Born of beautiful Maia and almighty Zeus, destined for great works, child of mighty Mount Kyllene, scheming and knowing from the crib!” Ancient people had made these prayers, although the words were different, although the gifts were different. They, too, had committed sacrifice to the flames for their lord, for the Chthonic Hermes who dwelled at the edges of worlds. The thought felt overwhelming to Luna as she prayed, but it was the most wonderful kind of overwhelming. It was like a silver cord that ran through her body and stretched back through time and space. “I call upon your many names, great god; hear me, and answer in kind!” She began to slowly pour a stream of very expensive whiskey into the flames, watching them dance with it. “Athanatos, Aglaos, Kydimos, Krateros! Pompaios, Diaktoros, Angelos, Mastērios! Klepsiphrōn, Mēkhaniōtēs, Polytropos, Euskopos! Kharidōtēs, Poneomenos, Eriounēs, Khrysorrhapis!” Feeling breathless, Luna walked over to Goat in the little flower crown she’d made for him. She brought him over in front of the altar, leading him with gentle kindness. Then she knelt down and looked at him. Goat seemed very uninterested in everything that was happening and he leaned his head to try and eat one of the pastries on the altar that was just at goat height. “You’ve been a good boy,” Luna whispered to him, and then she leaned down and kissed his head. She steadied him between her knees like the Jeremy had showed her and picked up the sharp knife from the altar. “Hermes I call! To wretched souls the leader of the way, when Fate decrees, to regions void of day! Hermes, I call! Thine is the wand which causes sleep to fly, or lulls to slumberous rest the weary eye! Hermes, I call! Upon this offered sacrifice now attend, and let all things come to their happy end!” Luna drew the blade across Goat’s throat, pressing hard and swift. She didn’t want to cause any more pain than she had to, and she didn’t want to get it wrong. She continued repeating the list of Hermes’ titles, until they blurred on her tongue, until they felt like an electric shock in her brain. She held Goat until he was dead and it was difficult to see the altar before her, her eyes as blurred with tears as her words. Then she stood, holding the goat aloft to the view of the moon. “Iō Hermes! Iō Hermes! Iō Hermes!” Luna could feel blood trickling down her arms, beneath the sleeves of her white dress. Her heart was thundering and she felt dizzy – both strong and weak at the same time. She cast Goat’s body into the roaring flames and stepped back, continuing to speak the Homeric Hymn to Hermes, focusing all her intent as she watched the flames. The smell of burning fur was not pleasant, but Luna ignored it. She focused only on her prayer. She focused only on how much she loved Hermes. How much she wanted to be there with him. How much she wished to serve again. She let the fire burn down and by the time she went into the cabin, Luna was utterly exhausted. She managed a quick shower before changing into the warm pajamas Tinsel had gifted her and falling so heavily into bed she felt like her limbs had flipped an off switch. Sleep came quickly and fully. When Luna woke again sometime in the night, it was with the strongest feeling that something had woken her. In the darkness of the room she sat up, remembering – as the moonlight exposed strange and unknown shapes – that she was in the rental cabin. There was no movement in the room, and the sounds she could hear came from outside. Night birds, insects, wind in the trees. But that sense lingered, growing stronger as sleep fell further away from her, and she realised there was a light ringing in her ears, as though she’d been listening to loud music all night. She worried, momentarily, that she had some sort of ear infection starting, but there was the strong sense within her that the ringing didn’t belong to her. The ringing, although within, was external. So Luna got out of bed, walking quietly across the room and pulling open the door to look out. That full moon was still bright, even brighter now after seeing nothing but darkness for so long. There was still a little red glow coming from the fire, and Luna half slipped into her shoes – standing on the backs of them like her parents had always hated – and took the first two steps across the wooden porch to the stairs. The noise she heard could have been the wind passing suddenly through the trees, and the identical sound that followed it – along with a very loud crack of a stick – made her look up towards the trees that lay beneath the moon, as the ringing in her ears grew louder. And that was when she saw it, the top of its head looming just above the height of that canopy. The moment between seeing it and understanding what she was seeing seemed to stretch and twist. It was as white as bone, because it was bone. An enormous skull moving forward through the branches and, attached to it, the rest of what one would expect to see under a skull, although its ghoulish body was more obscured by the trees. Luna tried to understand the scale of it among the trees, and thought it must have been almost thirty feet tall. When the face of the skull turned towards the altar, Luna saw it clearly. Gaping holes for eyes and nose, teeth framing the frightful gap that was its mouth. A face taller than she was. A face that saw even without eyes. Luna had put her hand slowly over her mouth, afraid she might scream if she didn’t, and took a silent step backwards. The skeleton stepped out into the small clearing, and she saw that it was hunched as it moved. Taller than thirty foot. Bones and bones and bones, all animated with some terrifying spark. Luna took another step backwards, moving as quietly as she could, not wanting to alert it to her presence. The ringing in her ears was like a metal wheel whining right beside her head, and when Luna felt the edge of the doorway behind her she grabbed hold of it, desperately thankful for something solid. She didn’t dare to close the door once she was inside, sure it would draw the creature’s attention. Instead she crept across the room and tried to ignore the sounds of crunching undergrowth outside, tried to ignore the ringing, and the after image of the skeleton hunched over her altar. Luna got to the bathroom and closed the door behind her quietly, locking it. As though, somehow, a tiny lock would stop something like that. There was no way it could fit in the house, but Luna could picture one long skeletal arm bursting through the cabin and grabbing hold of her. She climbed into the old bathtub and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed around it. Even that thin layer hiding her felt safer than not having it. Luna sat crouched in the bathtub, listening desperately for any sign of what was happening outside. She thought she would hear its footsteps, but perhaps that was the wind. Eventually, though, the ringing in her ears receded and then finally stopped entirely. Luna spent the rest of the night in the bath, falling asleep curled up in the bottom. When morning came – with light and safety – Luna went outside to look around. The altar was scattered, as though something had swept it aside. Slightly shaking, Luna packed her things and drove back to the city. |