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7
Ally bally, ally bally bee
Sittin on yer mammyʼs knee
Greetin for a wee bawbee
Tae buy some Coulterʼs Candy
Iʼm here, Marjorie. Iʼm here.
Iʼm f*ckinʼ here, Marjorie. Iʼm here.
Just like we planned, all those years ago.
Rising from the dead.
Are you here, Marjorie?
the dead shall rise the damned will follow you decarabia and her forces pledged fealty to me years ago i am in charge i run the show the dead will rise and the dead will follow you my love i swear –
She was a canvas, and he painted her lips, first. The body. He laughed, and he laughed, and he laughed. Words never came out of his mouth, but the poetry and the music of her glorious, cold body was his canvas. The penultimate canvas. When he touched her body, his fingers ran with blood. The blood of the boiling, hateful sun, the blood of poison that twined up her spine and grew swollen under the silver moon. The body sprawled heavy, the fresh one, lolling – and the stars were her eyes. Monstrous and dexterous, she cast her blackened shawl and depthless eyes over his corpse – his old, wizened, cracked corpse – and the wind was her hands.
He giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Willie wept baith lang and sair
Till he got a penny tae share
Noo heʼs tumblin doon the stair
Tae buy some Coulterʼs Candy
Are you here?
Warm, fresh bodies.
Iʼm with your warm, fresh bodies.
poison thy body poison thy soul and i shall see you again we shall finally be together but you must command the damned you must take the briar by force i am not luciferʼs i am yours macbeth my cursed king my beautiful king scotland is ours and we will take her lecherous body with the force of a thousand swords –
She was his hunger. His will to live; the body. Marjorieʼs body. They said her name was Raven Dunkeld, but he knew it was Marjorie. Her lips were chapped as they would in the winter; her skin yellowing in a haze of the smoke that ripped through them. His talons curled around the flesh of her breasts, and the creaminess of the blood, her life, her essence – it rolled in waves. Waves of thick, black hair. Woven in obsidian, woven in blood. Her supple breasts were agonizingly torturous, pressed up against him. Her body was mangled as Marjorie's was, mottled in the nakedness of the day, and it made him hard.
He giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Poor wee Annie was greetin tae
What could poor auld Mammy dae?
But gie them a penny atween them twae
Tae buy mair Coulterʼs Candy.
I tried to indulge...
With Decarabia, with Angus,
with Macdonwald.
Like you said.
Iʼm hungry, Marjorie.
Iʼm so damn hungry.
Are you here?
and with this kiss, we shall die meu amor with the apothecary of the dreaded and the drugs of the damned, we shall die in this damp and dark place of hell but here i will remain i swear to you here i will remain with the darkness as my paramour and you as my husband...
we are the dead macbeth.
yes.
we are the living.
yes.
we are the conquerors.
yes.
we are the pure blood.
yes.
we are the next thousand years, thee and me. i love you.
She was his alcohol. Everything from her body spilled onto him, coating him in grime smearing him in the ash blond c*m that streaked down his thighs, milking him of the cleanly air and replacing his golden physique with a crust of dried bile and lily-livered vomit. Green, as the pallid grass rotting in the fields. Yellow, as the teeth of a chain smoker before they smother the earth in a grave oʼ gray. He studied the deep crimson of her eyes, raw patches of scraped skin, the wet crevasses of her skin filled with a cement-like paste. When he wasnʼt studying her, he was kissing her – the saliva that gummed her dead, deceased mouth spilling into his mouth.
He giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Oor wee Jeannie wis lookin affa thin
A rickle o banes covered ower wi skin
Noo sheʼs gettin a wee double chin
Sookin Coulterʼs Candy.
One, two, three
Four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine...
Ten!
Iʼm going to find you, amor.
Iʼm going to find you, gràdh.
Ready or not, here I come.
you must say it to me too macbeth. i love you.
She was his sin, Marjorie and the dead girl, his greatest sin, and the temptation to consume, to devour, to succumb to carnality, it was too much. Not enough. He gripped her face as if he were to rip it off, suckling and f*cking and thrusting and crying and laughing, her sunken face deeply entrenched in the throes of darkness that his were painted in. Running his tongue along the blood that caked her skin, the rough, slashed contours licked away the cold, metallic taste and moaned. Deeply, his throat bobbing with songs of sadness, of rushes, of highs. And then, he gave in to his hunger.
He giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Here comes Coulter doon the street
The man the bairns aw like tae meet
His big black bag it hauds a treat
Itʼs full oʼ Coulterʼs Candy.
Did you love me?
I killed for you.
I bled for you.
I sold my body for you.
Did you love me?
you betrayed me you deceived me let the worms be thy chamber maids thy companions in death and the darkness be thy lover that batters you and rape your vile body you foul creature and burns you to the ground as cnut did in his invasion let them i loved you and you betrayed me let scotland burn let the briar this marcella girl let her burn you betrayed me and broke my crown with the seed of luciferʼs b*stards and with isabelleʼs ruinous inheritance.
macbeth please i love you –
i love only our isabelle i love only our scotland i have never loved you burn at the stake bruxa burn i care not for your dark volitions.
She was fire made flesh, and he tasted any slew of violence he could. He chewed her jawbone, shattering his teeth against the jaw, he ran his tongue down her exposed spinal column, he toyed with his wisdom teeth and her vocal cords. He moved to her breastbone, pressing his fingertips plunging into her gaping chest cavity. He gripped onto her exposed ribs, flesh clinging to the bone as a mother's child to a womb, and reached up for pulpy, pink lungs that wallowed out of their carmine cage. The sounds she made were tentative, honey to the ear, and the fluids kept churning out of her.
Tearing into his body. Properly lubricated, he labored onto her, kneeling, keening, and he grabbed her hips. The flesh sliding off of her bones, her spine popping out of her in a sickening crunch, snap. Rubbing the head of his dick on her cold pussy and letting the tightness rip up her entire core from the waist down. He raked his nails down her body. He buried his face in her matted hair and honed in on his desire.
He clamped his teeth around her shoulder and allowed chunks of that greasy flesh detach in his mouth. He tore at her organs and the strings of supple meat, limb by limb. He wrapped his hands around her vertebrae, arching backwards with shorter, faster, pulverizing thrusts until his hipbones were bruised, beaten, battered. The remains of her head bounce up and down, and he labored over his hunger.
Biting at the flaky ribs, hunk of her shoulder clenched around his mouth as her dandruff rained down on his face like snow. He clenched her spine in his right fist and rattled her bones until he broke her down from the inside out. Until her body ripped apart, prying itself apart like two jammed doors. Making a slow, slick, snapping sound. He c*me, forming a puddle on the table in a wicked black, and he caved. Howled. Screamed.
He giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Ally bally, ally bally bee
Sittin on yer mammyʼs knee
Greetin for a wee bawbee
Tae buy some Coulterʼs Candy.
I fought for us.
You fought for nothing.
Give me Marcella.
Give me Shakespeare.
Give me our legacy.
Whisper to me, as you always do.
And Iʼll give you the blood you want.
the dead will wait. i will wait for you meu amor.
wait for your precious lucifer to penetrate you with the fires of hell in thy marriage bed wait for the men that fill your toxic c*nt and your greedy arse to line your pockets you were nothing without me and scotland will be nothing without their king i am the conqueror i am the pure blood i am the dead i am the living i am the next thousand years i will always be the formidable thane macbeth you will be marjorie of león the bankrupt little bitch from whence i plucked you.
i am the fire that burns your skin i am the water that kills your wanton thirst i am o castelo el castillo that stands for centuries the tower of your failed shortcomings the sword that guards thy fortune you are nothing without me you will always be nothing without me my king. remember that.
when the fire eats away at your purged soul bated with the breath of my hunger oh yes sweet marjorie i will remember when you are dust and i am immortal i will remember when i watch your treacherous corpse burn in hell gruoch was my wife you are my tomb.
oh i am going to hell my love the only question is how long it will take me to bring you there with me.
I fought for love.
You fought for empire.
I fought for us.
You fought for revenge.
I will find Marcella as you asked.
I will find Shakespeare.
I will recreate our legacy.
Whisper to me, as you always do.
I long for your voice.
Please forgive me, gràdh.
I am sorry.
I love you.
But she never answered.
She never responded.
She never spoke a word.
And he giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed.
Giggled and laughed,
Singing softly:
Ally bally, ally bally bee
Sittin on yer mammyʼs knee
Greetin for a wee bawbee
Tae buy some Coulterʼs Candy.