Daughters of Le Fey Part 33

This is the story I've been editing. I reached the end of the work in progress and I've had inspiration to continue the story.

Thank you for following me as I edited it. I hope you'll continue to follow as I now enter the writing stage.

The links to the previous episodes are all listed in this Post. Please feel free to catch up there, then, Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

All images are from Google Free to use search

On with the story.

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The first-born demon took one of the woman’s breasts and started suckling. The other two realised what their brother was doing and scrambled to get to the other breast. The younger, weaker and less agile spawn lost out and though it tried to find a way in, its brothers pushed it back. It screamed in impotent fury, trying again and again to gain access to sustenance, but until one or the other was sated, it wouldn’t get a look-in, it was far too weak to fight them off.

At last, the first-born spawn let go of the breast it suckled from and fell away from its mother in a lethargic flop. It fell to sleep instantly and Katherine watched in amazement as it grew.

A few minutes later, the creature woke and looked around. It saw its brothers sucking and knocked the smaller one away from the breast it had used before.

The mewling of the smallest demon-spawn dwindled into intermittent snores as it too fell asleep. The middle demon followed its lead soon after and also let go of its ‘mother’ and went to sleep. Both grew fast, though not as fast as their elder brother.

A routine soon developed whereby the oldest fed and grew fastest and the other two had no chance of catching it up, especially as it would also keep both brothers away from their ‘mother’ because it realised it would not be sated by draining just one breast.

Speech developed soon after the second sleep and though it was basic, Katherine understood their meaning as they talked, argued and bickered.

The elder demon fell into a deep slumber and the middle brother looked at it as it suckled. It leaned over and kicked its younger brother who squawked in protest.

“Lookit, lookit,” it said.

“Naw, leave me be. Hungry!”

“Lookit!” the middle one said again. It dropped from its mother and scuttled across to the fireplace. It took up a knobbly log and gave a few practice swings with it.

The youngest looked on, still suckling, but interested in the middle one’s theory.

“Bash, bash!” the middle one said, miming the act of smashing in the head of their older brother.
The younger one nodded but didn’t mover from its ‘mother’s breast.

“LOOKIT!” the middle one screeched.

The older demon twitched in its sleep at the noise and the middle one flinched. It scuttled back to the old crone and kicked its brother to get it to leave off suckling and help.

Reluctantly, the youngest one followed to the woodpile and chose a small stick. The middle one knocked it from its hand and gave it a bigger, heftier weapon to use.

Katherine watched in horrified fixation as the two creatures crept up on their older sibling.

A noise from outside alerted Katherine to someone approaching and she tried to keep every aspect of the hovel, its occupants and the entrance in equal view.

The fire had gone out and the hovel grew chilly. White smoke drifted up the chimney. Katherine heard voices and listened to them. She couldn’t decipher who spoke, or how many there were but she realised there were a great deal of townspeople come to find ‘The Witch’.

The miniature demons had organised themselves to beat their brother to death, they had begun raining blows upon it as it slept when the entrance opened up and torches were thrust inside to light the room.

The woman lay at death’s door but lifted a hand to try to protect her spawn. The creatures didn’t take any notice of the intrusion, two were screeching in murderous fury and the other in pain and rage. The one taking the beating at last managed to scramble to its feet. One arm hung broken and useless at its side and it disarmed the smaller sibling and swatted it hard with the log. The creature sailed through the air to land at the feet of one of the men.

The man looked at the creature and his mouth turned down in disgust. He stamped on the creature which burst like a swollen, rotting carcass, spraying black and clotted blood and stinking offal across the feet of the man and his companions.

“Dear Lord!” one of the others cried out. “What in God’s name is that?” The man didn’t indicate to the morass at their feet, he pointed to the crone.

She lay on the birthing bed, drained of almost all life-force, a skeleton swathed in skin.

“She wasn’t that thin yesterday!” one of the men said in shock.

“She looks like the neighbour’s cow did when we found her after she died and we couldn’t find her for months.” Another said.

“But she was alive this morning. I saw her at the execution,” the first said.

“As did I,” another and another man said.