Bloodline: The Cult of Anubis (Pt. III)

The transformation that took place that first night had been terrifying. He had thrashed in bed, sweating, eaten with chills. The rotten blood from the well had been the day’s only sustenance. He lay on a bed of burlap and straw in the transformation chamber. It was more of a cell than a bedroom; thick doors, barred windows.

Outside he saw the globe of the moon, staring in, flaunting her freedom. His jaw hurt, his bones ached. And then it happened. His hands turned into claws, his teeth grew out, his body covered with hair. He started howling in terror, but soon, he was howling for the sheer joy of it. Trumpeting animal bellows leapt unbidden from his newly muscled throat. He shrieked at the moon, gnawed at the burlap covering and tore gaping scratches into the clay walls. He’d never felt so strange – or so alive!

That first time had been incredible. He now knew why he’d been locked up. The power of Anubis was not to be trifled with. Indeed, the daily meditations of the priests were more about learning to control the demon in their veins than they were an act of piety...

* * *

Two years after his initiation, he was itching to see the outside world again. The brotherhood rarely let any of the priests travel – particularly not those who had recently become members. Their jobs were to advise the Pharoah (may the god-man be blessed forever!) in matters of spiritual significance – and regularly tend the well. Most of all, they lived to carry the blood of Anubis and keep it from being spilled into the world – or poured into the hands of their enemies.

One chill spring afternoon, Qatil decided it was time for some fresh air. Most of the brotherhood were planting the grain used to feed the huge flock of goats required for the feeding of the 40. He had feigned deep meditation when asked to join them. Feeling it would be better to let him commune with the deity, they had passed on without molesting him.

Qatil often remembered the young prostitute from his initiation – though her temple was a few blocks away and kept vigorously separated from that of Anubis.

But… it could be reached, if one was clever. Qatil was young, lonely, and bored. Seeking out a friend seemed like a good idea. Even if the penalty for discovery was death. Seeing the passive nature of most of the priests, he could hardly believe they’d want to slay him. Brother Jatot had even broken the vow of silence during the Days of Ra without receiving more than a passing rebuke.

He slipped out of the tanned skins that were the garb of his order and put on his old civilian clothing. Better not to draw attention.

Quietly, he made his way up the stairs that led to the roof. There was a ladder there for the lighting of the great torch. He snagged it, and casually walked down the street, taking it to the outer wall which overlooked the women’s courtyard. There they waited for travelers, collecting “donations” for the temple. He climbed cautiously and looked down into the courtyard, not daring to simply walk in as the travelers did. Too much chance of being recognized. One fat and lazy whore fanned herself and lay against the fountain. A couple other women were emerging from one of the “service” booths with a rich-looking merchant.

Then he heard a woman cry out. "Stop it! Stop it!” The other prostitutes looked uncomfortable but didn’t help. Could it be the one he’d spent the night with before his transformation? The girl was obviously begrieved. In an instant, he was down in the square. The cries came from a booth at the end of the row. He hesitated, questioning himself. Then another cry pulled him forward. He burst in, finding a half nude woman trying to shield herself against the blows of a lean-faced man with a riding crop. He took another slash at her. “Submit, slave!”

It was the woman he knew!

Suddenly, her assailant realized he wasn’t the only man in the tent. He turned on Qatil. With sick horror, Qatil saw the man bore the belt of the priesthood – he was the girl’s owner!

“Have a problem with my property management skills?” the man snarled, “Or are you having a hard time waiting your turn?”

Qatil didn’t answer. Assaulting another priest was forbidden.

The man struck him with the crop. “Answer, fool!”

The pain snapped something inside him. The beast blood rose. He transformed. The priest cried out in horror as the girl cowered further back against the wall.

“Anubis!”

With a lunge, Qatil tore out his ribcage and feasted on his still-beating heart. The woman, horrified, tried to run past him. He caught her in his iron grip and clapped a paw over her young features. “Silence, woman! Tonight you are free!”
She nodded, fear still flashing through her eyes. Qatil knew how horrifying a transformation could be. Especially when it was accompanied by eviscerations. He threw her over his shoulder and bounded out into the courtyard. The fat whore came alive and screamed as he approached. Ignoring her, he charged for the gate. In the confusion, he was able to tear off past the market and into the vast fields of grain. When he was sure they hadn’t been followed, he finally paused. The adrenaline was wearing off. Soon he’d just be plain old Qatil again.

The girl now seemed more curious than scared. Though not certain of her safety, she was at least not in his stomach as of yet – and for a girl that had spent her life in a state of near-constant abuse, that was good enough.

He looked at his hands – there were paws no longer. Claws were now just fingernails. He looked up. The girl had noticed.

“You’re no longer a beast.”

He grinned, hoping his incisors had also retracted. “Yeah. Just plain old Qatil now.”

She looked at him, a question in her eyes. “You look familiar.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. You once told me I was a better ride than your camel. Two humps, remember?"

He shook his head. “That couldn’t have been me.”

“Hmm… wait. I know! You’re the one with the mole shaped like a diamond. Right here.” She pointed at her left buttock.

“No.”

“You have a twin, though, right?”

“No. I was an only child.”

Her eyes looked upwards, towards the sky. She seemed lost in thought. “Who and where… who and where. I’ll get it. Just give me a moment.”

With a snap of her fingers, she tried again. “You eat lots of oysters?”

“No.”

“By Ra, I give up then!”

He was a bit hurt. Maybe she’d remember if he brought up that night. “We were together once.”

“I knew it! You bit me right on the –“

“No! NO NO NO! Listen, I was going to be a priest, and you were mine for the last night before my vow. I told you that you weren’t just a whore, you were a person. And you thanked me for being gentle and sweet!”

Her laugh was unexpected. She rocked back to the grass, holding her gut. “HA!”

“What?”

“I tell that to ALL the guys!”

Qatil was not amused. The reality of what he’d done was sinking in. He had left the brotherhood, killed a priest, and freed a temple prostitute.

Though he didn’t know it, soon he would do something much worse.