“Sayemontess- The Death of a Loved One.” #ReedsyHoliday

“Sayemontess- The Death of a Loved One.” 

Trigger Warning: this short story contains Strong Violent Content and Gore, Sexual Content, Nudity, Harrowing Situations, and Suspence.

As Sonja blared Maria Callas’s, “Tosca, Act II: Vissi d’ arte,” she took to the stage at Sayemontess. It was located in the beautiful rose-filled courtyard that had wonderfully creative statues of sweet cherubims. This was where all of the events would take place- from public humiliations, plays, executions, and so forth. Fun stuff. 

“Richard,” said Sonja, and everyone clapped in remembrance. “Because of sweet Richard, God rest his soul at the young age of nineteen, we can raise our glasses, and we can feast in celebration of his life. One year later, and we haven’t forgotten you.” The beautiful women toasted and took a moment of silence before they ate. Some of the women had slaved away in the kitchen all day preparing for the feast. They created perfect table-scapes with garlands, pine cones, candles, and their finest china. They even had fresh oysters that the women had collected the previous day.

Richard, who would have turned twenty today, sang opera obsessively. He obsessed over, “Tosca, Act II: Vissi d’ arte,” in his final days where he sang himself to death right on the stage. He spent so much time there singing passionately while the women swooned. Even the men swooned back in the day. They could not wait to see him naked, and they could not wait to hear him singing in the showers- which is where he sounded the best.

———

Life was not long for those in Sayemontess, and after Richard, that poor bedfellow, had died, they were at a significant loss. Jacob had been banished, and our men, wait!

———

What was that that was being heard by Sonja? Could she believe her ears? She quickly turned off the music. It was them! It was our men! The men continued singing as they approached. They all longed to rest at Sayemontess. They had followed the song home in the darkness without torches. For miles and miles, they walked in worn-out, junky shoes, and rarely could they bathe. Oh, they could not wait to take nice, hot, steamy showers together at Sayemontess. Most of the men had horrible, brutal injuries, but they sang proudly as they continued onward, and as they reached the song’s climax, they, two-by-two, approached the bridge to Sayemontess. They mostly came from the southern gates where they were held captive. Only a few men returned from the west gate. At least they had survived. They could all celebrate together. They could celebrate Richard, and the men’s return to Sayemontess. Maybe there would now be hope of producing multiple heirs to the throne- even if Sonja was not the one to conceive.

———

The two uninjured men, Benji and Thornton, were in for a long, hot night. Pleasure. Lots of pleasure! Bring reproduction, please God! Sonja thought. The beautiful Sonja had never looked so radiant. She was thrilled to have her men back. They were her men now that she was their new leader.

Men were helping men as they had now reached safety back at Sayemontess. The tallest, and most breathtaking castle that had been abandoned for nearly two bleak centuries. When our people took it over, it was such a blessing to us all. One woman, Lee, wrote about it in short stories. 

As Benji, and Thornton washed up together, they looked forward to their reward for surviving unscathed, and for doing whatever they could to protect Sayemontess. They made out in the showers knowing very well that they would soon be sharing their beds with three dozen beautiful women. The two men shaved their bodies as best as they could. It was important that they manscaped for some of the beautiful women had a protracted case of pubic lice. Where Benji could not reach, Thornton would shave that area, and vice versa. They were both fit, and they knew exactly what to do to Sonja, and the other women. They had contained their semen for the past year in waiting for this moment. Perhaps they could be the ones to produce heirs to the throne.

From the stage, Samantha sang, “The Bristol Christ,” by Brenda Wootton with the Four Lanes Male Choir. She sang it with a few improvisations that made the song hers, and hers alone until the end of time for it was never sung again. At least, not in Sayemontess. She dedicated her song to sweet Richard. The people of Sayemontess fell in love with her song, and Sonja noticed this when Samantha’s audience joined in. She became outraged, and overwhelmed with jealousy, and she snapped right before Samantha sang the last few enthralling lyrics. Sonja screamed from her chamber’s balcony so loudly- the balcony shook. She said,

“To the stocks! For all of the twelve days of Christmas! No food! Let her body eat her own fat. It’s too bad for you, Samantha, as tomorrow shall be the coldest day of the year. I can sense it. Strip her bare, and lock her out of my sight!” 

The women did as instructed with smiles on their faces. So easily they would turn on one another. If they did not, then most of them feared they would end up in the stocks, or worse. Samantha cried tears of sadness for the first time in her life as the cold rain hit her naked body. She had laughed at people who had gone through this before her, but they had been humiliated during the warmer months. She was the first to be locked in the stocks during the freezing months at Sayemontess.

———

Brutal. This was brutal, thought Samantha, but no one cared what she thought anymore. She broke down, and was so embarrassed being stripped bare, and locked in the stocks. She urinated on herself so many times that her thighs froze together, and she became thirsty. Now, she could only let out a little trickle if she tried with all of her might. At least it was raining. She could open her mouth and have some relief from her thirst.

The mosquitoes, and no-see-ums relentlessly bit at her tender flesh. Samantha had been their best meal in days. Her hands, at least, were free, so she could slap at the dreaded mosquitoes, but once the no-see-ums made their way into her lower orifices, she could not help but scratch away at herself like a crazy woman. She was tough, though. She did not scream until she saw the skunk, who wanted to spray away all up in her face as he was overjoyed with having found a brand-new playmate! Skunks are playful creatures. They just want to have fun. So, he “played,” and sprayed for hours- off and on- all through the night! Soon, Samantha could hardly breathe during the skunk's torment. She knew she would never be able to sing again, and this broke her heart.

"Please! Leave me be!" screamed Samantha as the skunk scratched at her bare stomach and giggled a deranged and feral giggle, oh, and what is this? Another wave of mosquitoes and no-see-ums just dying for a bite?

———

Samantha froze to death the next morning, and no one seemed to care. The skunk made off with her eyeballs. He liked that one was blue, and one was green. “The Bristol Christ,” was never sang again at Sayemontess. In fact, it had already been forgotten. The focus was now on Sonja, and her special voice. And it had better be special. No faults. No breaks. Perfectly sing the song from start to finish, or it was off to the gallows. The pressure. The pressure was too much. 

———

As the rats gnawed on Samantha’s frost bit extremities, Sonja shot her from her balcony with a flaming arrow. She heard a strange noise coming from the building, but she did not care. She leaned in over the edge of the balcony to watch ice-covered Samantha, go up in flames. The rats scurried away- some with singed tails and fur.

———

All Samantha did was sing, but this was Sayemontess. Remember- life is short in Sayemontess. So, you do not mess with the top dog. No, you don’t.

———

“Be careful what you wish for.” muttered Sonja under her breath. 

Samantha had wanted fame amongst the beautiful people, but in Sayemontess, only Sonja would be the focus of attention now. Samantha? Samantha who?

That noise from the building. What was that noise? It was so freezing cold out, and Sonja just wanted to have sex on the balcony. She had already set it up for Benji and Thornton, and the girls. Then, thank God, in walked Benji and Thornton in their royal blue robes.

The two heart-throbs met Sonja on the balcony that could not hold their weight, but they ignored the groans coming from the building. As thrusting was engaged against the balcony's rail, the more fragile their ground became. Then what happened next was crazy, and meant for, yawn, well, another day. Goodnight.