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He struggled on the floor and made a gurgling noise at the back of his throat, his arms and legs flailing weakly from beneath the towel.
Krial smacked the floor with the tip of his walking stick, making sharp crack noises. The noise reverberated around the space and he hummed a tune, wheezing, rasping groan from his aged and decrepit throat.
We guards hummed in return, a deep tune in the style of the ceremony we’d been taught, rehearsed, and practiced a thousand times before.
Krial spoke in a deep, guttural voice, the forgotten words of his ancient native tongue that even the translator implants buried in our arms couldn’t understand. He waved a single arm, making an arc meant to represent the entirety of the universe, but as weak as he was, he could only do it with a single arm and not both as it was meant to be performed.
As we came to the climax of the song, he reached up for the clasp at his shoulder and let his dressing fall to the ground, revealing the hideous and haggard shape of his aged form. His legs were skinny and weak, his skin hanging like soggy bread. His strength was all but gone. His bones were visible, poking at the thick skin of his body, straining at his flesh like tentpoles beneath too little fabric.
Then our humming came to a halt and a twisting wrenching sensation overtook my stomach and I could barely bring myself to watch.
The other guards looked on, not one, not even Tus, glancing at me as Krial dropped to his hands and knees and crawled toward the infant in a halting, disgusting manner, twisting his arms to use his palms to carry him forward. His shriveled penis swung to and fro, limp and useless.
The baby cried and screamed from the confines of his silk pillow. He kicked and flailed as if sensing what was about to happen. He shoved the towel free from about his body, his soft, pink flesh still a little red from passing through his mother.
Krial bent over the child and placed his hands on either side of it. He sucked, breathing in.
The infant really went for it now, screeching as Krial sucked the lifeforce from the child.
The matter of time and space shimmered as he pulled the youth from the child right before us, like dark magic.
Krial’s bones first snapped, cracking into place, and returned to its original strong and youthful position. His skin turned a healthy flesh color similar to that of the young child that he gorged on.
The baby flailed his flabby little arms, defenseless against the onslaught, unable even to smack the creature across the face.
As Krial became younger, his years passed to the child. Its skin turned pallid and grey, and what little hair he had on his head turned white, then fell limply to its skull and slipped to the ground.
Its harsh cry shifted from the youthful spear of anger to the wheezy groan the old man had sung with earlier. His face turned sallow and thin and even his movements altered, turning sharp and lacking their earlier dexterous smoothness.
Krial would sup until his body could take no more. He pulled his head up and sucked smaller amounts now, leaving the child with no more than a handful of hours remaining of its life. He wouldn’t have left even that if he didn’t have to, but not doing so was to suck too deeply, to feast too fully, and giving in to his greed would only backfire.
Krial got to his feet and peered at his hands, now strong and powerful, the way he had been when I first met him all those years ago. He placed his hands on his head and felt at the warm glow of his flesh and the power that had returned to him. His cock had elongated and stood hard and proud.
He stood upright and his body was muscular. He grinned and refused to look upon the shriveled form of the baby he had just destroyed.
“Dispose of it,” he said.
He glanced at me before turning and wrapping his arm around Annas, to lead her to his bed chamber and celebrate the way he always did when his youth had been returned to him.
I left the point of my star and approached the little pink cushion. I looked upon the tiny shriveled grey shape and could have wept. The possibility and promise of a new lifetime had been stolen, leaving approaching death and sickness in its wake.
“I’ll do it,” Tus said.
I was relieved he offered. I wasn’t sure I could do it. And that, by itself, was the reason I knew it had to be me that did it. It was a test handed down by Krial. To prove my loyalty.
“No,” I said hollowly. “Krial gave me the order. I’ll do it.”
It would be my final disgrace.
Tus looked at me with concern but nodded his head.
I bent down to pick up the poor child that lay weak and forgotten on the floor.
My child.
He no longer reached up for me, no longer looked at me. I doubted he could even see me with the cataracts in his eyes and the bedsores wrapped like lovers around his limbs.
I maintained control as I passed through the outer doors and heard Annas’ scream as Krial tore into her with his youthful vigor.
