The Empty by Thom Reese Read Free Book Online Page B

small slot in the cage, the man said. “You embarrassed Wilhelm last night. He’s been storming around the place ever since, cursing you and promising to kill you the first chance he gets. Don’t worry. You’ve made him more money in one night than he normally sees in a week. He won’t be harming you again, I’ll promise you that.” Then the little man leaned forward with a sly wink. “Only next time, please wait till I’m nearby before you piss on the big buffoon. I’d really liked to have seen that.”
    * * * *
     
    The days fell into a dull routine. The little man, whose name Dolnaraq learned was Oskar, would bring food and chat for a few minutes about the happenings of the day. The cat became a permanent resident of the cage. It ran off from time to time, sometimes returning with a slain rat or sparrow clasped tightly within its jaws, but always it nestled beside Dolnaraq in the long cool nights. Dolnaraq had never understood the human propensity to keep pets, but he did find a certain comfort in having the curious little thing around.
    After several days, each of which featured daily “performances” offering Dolnaraq up as a spectacle before an amused and skeptical audience, the carnival moved on to yet another village. Dolnaraq was agitated and restless. He had not been allowed out of his cage since capture and his muscles grew stiff and weak. Though Oskar would reach in with a rake each day and pull away waste, often slipping new straw into the space, and sometimes dousing offensive stains with water, the cage still became rank with the odors of Dolnaraq’s own existence. After moving on to yet another town and yet another week’s performances, Dolnaraq felt a familiar withering from within. It was rapidly approaching the time for another infusion. He now spent his days curled in a ball at the center of his cage, shivering and gasping, his skin becoming nearly transparent and taking on a bluish tone.
    “You are ill, my friend. What is wrong?” asked Oskar one brisk morning as he set Dolnaraq’s food dish aside and gazed in at his charge.
    Dolnaraq’s heavy eyes fluttered open. He stared at the concerned face just five feet away and knew he had not the energy to traverse the space. “Essence,” he moaned in a hushed growl. “Essence.”
    Oskar’s eyes widened. Dolnaraq had yet to speak since capture. “Why, you are full of surprises, aren’t you?” The man moved closer, right up against the cold metal bars, probably for the first time since Dolnaraq had swiped at him. “What is that you’re saying, now?”
    “Essence,” moaned Dolnaraq. At the sound, the cat purred and leaned against the feeble reyaqc’s stomach as if to lend support.
    “I’m sorry, my young friend. I do not understand,” said Oskar.
    Dolnaraq didn’t know where the energy came from, perhaps sheer survival instinct alone, but in that moment he leapt forward catching the startled handler at the base of the skull, pulling him forward, and drawing deeply from him. Oskar stared questioningly into Dolnaraq’s vacant white eyes, a look of fear and perplexity creasing his genial features. The caretaker’s green eyes, normally so lively and bright, became dull and hazy. His jaw went slack. His form twitched then lurched. Dolnaraq released the limp figure, allowing the man to slump into a heap beside the cage. He then retreated into a corner, Oskar’s essence burning as it raced through his body, renewing, reshaping, rebuilding.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The rabbit was deft, agile, swift of foot, and Tresset was burdened with an ever-depleted form. Several weeks now, and still he felt the effects of the tainted essence. No sores could be seen—none besides the self-inflicted scratches as Tresset continually scraped rocks against his skin in an effort to purge his system—but still, the taint remained. It had become a part of him, a piece of his makeup. And so Tresset had come to despair his existence.
    The reyaqc