Warning: Rated 'M' for horror-genre violence, adult situations and adult language.
The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
Certain characters have been adapted from 'The Stand,' by Stephen King, and he is the copyright holder of these.
Certain characters are based on 'Hikaru No Go' by Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata. I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
Brief references are made to a character from 'Watership Down,' by Richard Adams, and he is the copyright holder of this character.
Friday
Laying in his bed, Ulrich heard the thump of Odd getting into bed. He heard Kiwi rustle around in the chest drawer a bit, then settle down to sleep too. Soon the chainsaw sound of Odd's snoring filled their room, and Ulrich put his ear plugs in.
This week had been worse than waiting at the dentist's office to have a root canal done! He hadn't heard from his parents at all in weeks and it seemed sometimes like they forgot he even existed. Not that he minded that at times.
Then there was the disaster on Lyoko, thank God Aelita wasn't killed then! Since then, the gang had hardly talked to each other, something Ulrich was almost glad of.
No, that's not true. I wish I could talk to someone, anyone! Even Sissi...
Sissi had approached Ulrich a couple of times during the week, no doubt trying to either worm her way into his affections, or lord over him about some nonsense or another. But when she drew close, she seemed to sense his mood, and turned away.
It even might have helped to trade a couple of small barbs with her, he thought to himself, and drifted to sleep.
Ulrich found himself on a dirt road. It was night, but there was a full moon out. On either side of the road were rows and rows of corn. Off in the distance was a small house with a speck of light coming from it.
Ulrich noticed some movement, and saw a shadow of something draw back into the cornfield. From deep in the back of is mind came a slight glimmer of recognition, so he followed the shape in.
He quickly came into a clearing. There he found two people, a man and a woman. The man was tall, muscular, with brown hair that fell to his shoulders. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt with a denim jacket over the shirt. The man reminded Ulrich vaguely of a cowboy, for the man was wearing cowboy boots and a belt with a big, shiny belt buckle that cowboys sometimes wore.
The woman must have been the shadow he followed because he recognized her.
Yumi!
The Yumi he saw here was a little taller than the Yumi he knew, but her face, hair and build were almost exactly the same. It was like she was a few years older than she was now. She was wearing a wrap-around black dress with short sleeves, a hemline that hit just above the knee, and a neckline that plunged down her front, almost to the belt that held the dress in place. Her face and arms were snow white. It confused Ulrich for a moment until he remembered seeing pictures of geisha girls from Yumi's native Japan. They wore white makeup, and that's what Yumi was wearing. The makeup around her eyes accented them perfectly, the red on her lips made them look like a strawberry, ready to be tasted. There was a black shimmer-like outline that defined the curves of the muscles of her legs, stockings or pantyhose.
Yumi was pressing herself close to the man, almost like she was too afraid to look at him.
Or too ashamed.
The man finally spoke, "Ulrich, hi! Long time no see! So, what do you think?"
"I think I've never laid eyes on you before. What's Yumi doing here?"
"She chose to be here, with me. And let me tell you, it's been great! See how she's matured?"
More like whipped, to me, Ulrich thought to himself.
Before Ulrich could say anything else, the man said, "I hate to be rude, my man, but I'm a little hungry right now. Do you mind? I didn't think so."
With that, he pushed Yumi away. She staggered a step away and cringed.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it, bitch!" the man snarled.
Yumi looked at Ulrich, then back at the man. Something passed between the two, and Yumi lowered her eyes from his. Her hands reached down and began untying the belt holding her dress closed.
"Yumi, what are you doing!" Ulrich tried to walk over to her, but found he couldn't move.
Yumi finished undoing her belt, and let her dress slide off of her shoulders. She stood before both of them, naked except for her stockings, in the middle of the clearing.
Ulrich gasped, not just because this was the first time he ever saw her with out any clothes on (except, sometimes, in his dreams), but also because of the tattoos. Her body was covered with the most intricate tattoos he had ever seen. They covered her entire body, from her neck down to her hips. Not only were the tattoos striking, but their subject matter was too.
Men, women, children, animals, all entwined in sexual positions that seemed all but impossible to perform.
Ulrich pulled his gaze to Yumi's face. That face was like stone, unmoving. But her eyes were filled with shame, embarrassment, regret and longing.
"Get a move on, bitch! You're being rude to our guest!"
Yumi snapped her head back to the man at that, then moved quickly. She stepped back to him, knelt down, and began unbuckling his belt.
"Look, maybe I should leave you two alone..."
"Don't worry about that, Ulrich, this won't take a second, and Yumi doesn't mind at all."
Ulrich didn't care, he just wanted to get out. He tried walking back into the cornfield, but found he still couldn't move.
Yumi had unbuckled the man's belt, and was undoing his jeans. The man had his hands on his hips, clearly impatient with her. She got the jeans undone and pulled them down between his legs.
He was naked underneath.
She then put her hands on his hips, covering his hands, and leaned forward into his rising erection, taking it into her mouth.
Ulrich tried to close his eyes, avert his gaze, anything to block out what he was seeing, but he couldn't move.
She had been working at the man's erection for a few minutes, when he growled, "you know what I want, bitch, now do it!"
Yumi pulled back and turned around, facing away from him and towards Ulrich. She spread her legs a little wider, and lowered her face to the ground. She pressed her face into the dirt as if she was trying to burrow underground, then wrapped her arms around her head.
Seemingly satisfied, the man knelt down behind her, and thrust himself forward into her. She grunted once, then was silent.
The man began working his hips back and forth, pulling her towards his thrust, then pushing her back as he withdrew. He continued this for a while. All the time, his face was like that of a man drinking a cup of coffee while reading the daily newspaper.
Soon, he thrust forward, he gave a grunt, pulled her hips back against him, and held her tight. He held her against him for a few seconds as he spasmed, then pushed her away from him so hard that she sprawled upon the ground in front of him.
"You know, the only thing bad about having Chinese is that an hour later, you're hungry again," the man laughed at his joke, then got up and redid his jeans.
Ulrich could not believe what he had just seen. Aside from what just happened, he couldn't believe the callousness the man showed Yumi. A dish rag got more respect than he showed her! Ulrich looked at Yumi again as she was pulling herself up.
Lying face down in the dirt wore away the makeup on her face and arms. The white makeup was not there to enhance her beauty, it was there to cover her secrets.
Her face was black and blue from being beaten. There were bruises on her arms where hands had gripped her too tightly. She had scrapes, rashes of older scrapes, scars. He could even make out bruises on her body that were masked by the tattoos there. Ulrich even thought one or more of her ribs had been broken, and mended badly.
"What's going on here! How could you do that to her! What right..." Ulrich shouted, but the man interrupted.
"Every right, Ulrich! She chose this. When you weren't there for her, she went elsewhere. When you wouldn't take her, I did. She's happier now than she's ever been in her life, right sweetie?"
Yumi almost started to shake her head no, but at a sharp look from the man she quickly nodded her head yes and smiled.
"I just wanted you to see this. Now get on your way to the other one up at the house. Just remember this: I own her, body and soul, for eternity. And the next time we meet, I will own you just as completely, and I'll use you just as thoroughly, for just as long. Now get out of here."
At that, something pushed Ulrich back out into the cornfield. He tried to run back in, but couldn't. The only thing he could do was turn and walk back out to the road. As he did, he heard the slap! of the man's hand as it came down on Yumi, just another day in her life.
Ulrich walked up the road to the little house with a feeling like he had just been kicked in his gut. He was near sick with the things he just witnessed. What sickened him even more than what he saw was the little part of him that enjoyed watching the show. The part that wanted to join in.
Ulrich soon reached the house. It was small, and looked very old, almost ramshackle. He walked around to the front porch, and there, sitting in a rocking chair, was the oldest woman he had ever seen. She was black, with snow white hair. Her wrinkles spoke not of battles lost against the ravages of time, but of honors lavished in service over the years.
"Come on up and rest a spell, Ulrich. I say, but you've had the roughest time of it." She smiled, a toothless smile, but warm, and motioned him to a rocker next to hers.
He stepped up on to the porch, and sat down next to her. She poured him a glass of lemonade, which was in a pitcher on the table next to her chair, "here, drink this, it'll help you get your strength back."
Ulrich took the glass, and took a sip. The lemonade was cold and sweet. But even through the sweetness, a spike of sourness hit his tongue.
"Thank you, ma'am. But just who are you? Where am I? And who was that son of a bitch I left down in the field!"
"To answer you questions in order, I am Abagail Freemantle, but most folks just call me Mother Abagail. And this is my home. And that 'son of a bitch' you referred to is a personification of all of the evil and wickedness in the world."
"Do you know what he's doing down there? Who he's with? How can you allow something like this to go on!" Ulrich shouted.
"Yes, I know what he'd like you to think he's doing, and with who. I promise you, Ulrich, Yumi is safely asleep at home right this instant. Why this is happening is to show you what the consequence of a bad choice can be on someone you care for."
"What choice put Yumi in that situation!" Ulrich spat back.
"The choice you make every time you don't tell her what's in your heart. The choice she made when she decided you didn't care for her. The example that played out below was extremely harsh, harsher than I would have had you see if it were my choice, but still distinctly possible, and becoming more possible each day."
Calmer now, Ulrich took another sip of his drink. "Why is what Yumi and I feel for each other important to you?"
"Partly because you and she are mortals, and I care for all mortals. Partly because you and she play a somewhat larger role in the Great Struggle than most. And also, because I love you both."
"What do you want me to do, ma'am?" Ulrich asked.
"Between you and Yumi, tell her how you feel, good, bad or indifferent. Choose to let her in."
Abagail continued, "the other thing I want you to do is to prepare. Soon, you and you friends will have to fight a great battle. You all will have to Stand against the thing you met down the road tonight."
"What must I do to prepare?" Ulrich asked.
"When the time comes, you will have what you need. You'd best be running on home now, Ulrich."
Ulrich disappeared from the rocking chair.
Sitting there after he left, the old woman thought to herself, things are starting to get out of hand.
Saturday
Ulrich opened his eyes to Odd sitting bolt upright in his bed.