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Fractured Memories

Part 2

By

Dustin Feyder

Commissioned by

Dodish

Just for arguments sake I want to say I am not from a poor family, the Lovecraft's are a respected lot, my father was a respected poet, my grandmother worked for a concert and stage company and I myself am an artist of sorts, I clean and repair damaged artifacts for the county museum. Many would say the Lovecraft's are rich. Now let me tell you, there is a fine line that divides the rich form the wealthy, you can lose riches. Have too much fun over a weekend, get attacked to fast cars and fast women and your riches will be gone before you know it. Wealth is something else altogether.

Wealth builds cities, shapes cultures. Wealth is the cornerstone of governments and communities. When you have real wealth you can lose that, the people around you won't let you. Even if you lose the money society will remember your name and doors will open for you that won't open for people that are only rich. If your name happens to start with something like; Dutch, Barron, or Czar, you will find that there will always be work for you to do and people that will offer to take care of you.

The Ashcroft's are in the latter category and I never would have known it. I knew the name, everyone has seen it somewhere but it is so omnipresent in many of our lives and you wouldn't associate it with a person, it's more like a place and a thing: the Ashcroft library, hospital, museum. Grew up on Ashcroft street. Meeting someone with that name seemed trivial.

Samur is the owner and operator of Ashcroft Vineyard and Winery and the fourth largest distribution center in the world (as far as I know anyway). The Vineyard is where I am now. Samur takes me out to the barn, she interduces me to her prize winning astro, it is a beast of burden a bird green in color with a rainbow tail weighs about 900lbs, his name is Grimm. Samur takes me on a ride, shows me the compound.

Truth be known I should have been able to work this out back when we were kids, the clues where there but I thought it was all miscommunications and misunderstandings of the usage of words, phrases like "my family grows wine" sounds insane taken out of contexts.

I have never ridden a bird before, I end up needing to in front of Samur, I sit on her lap laying forward onto the back of the peacock looking beast, she rests forward onto me as we run across the vineyard. Samur has under her command a village worth of employs; men to pick fruit, men to sort it, men to peal fruits and man to grind them, a facility to wash the produce and at last a place to barley age the nectars that will become the most widely consumed wine in the country.

Samur is happy to talk at lengths about the wines that are bottled at her vineyard. She tells me how the cheap and sweat wines are made for daily needs and how that is different form the dark bitter wines that are only sipped by the most sophisticated coinsures. I must confess yesterday I would never have imagined what I am getting to see today.

After a long ride, we return Grimm to his coop and walk back to the main house. Samur takes me to the dining room and interduces me to two of her retainers. The first is a man named Griswold, he is in charge of Samur's dietary needs, the second is a woman named Vidal, her job seems to be meeting any needs not related to eating or working out.

Griswold is a happy fellow, he offers to ready a meal for the two of us and is more than happy to attempt a feline recipe that might be more to my pallet to me then what he is accustomed to prepping. I assure him that I am adventurous and ready to try anything he is willing to place on a plate for me.

This possibly loos phrasing end up getting me a plate piled high with what looks like grilled spiders with lobster claws, a boiled snake, and a thick yellow soup that I never could place the flavor of. I might have thought this a tasteless joke till Samur reaches over the table to take some of my fried spiders for herself.

After dinner, I walk around the house, I am shown a privet theater, an indoor swimming pool, I am given a bedroom. From there it is off to the basement, and that is where thing start getting... of color let's say. Somewhere in the maze of a basement we come to a door with a red spotlight cast on it.

The red door is pushed open to reveal a well-lit room with an oversized bed and a collection of toys I dare not descried today. There are lights on the wall the spell out the words 'Dungeon Master', a small bar is off in the corner and a table with seating for two. Samur's teeth find my shoulder and one hand reaches around me in a lewd way, I suffer a small bite then her fangs move up my neck and around one of my ears, his an airy voice she whispers to me "and this is my game room." Something gets pushed into my lower back, it is rubbery, not hard but stiff.

The color must have started to melt form my face as once more I feel confused and overwhelmed. Samur is so commanding, so needing, some confident. What am I to do? Her is a woman that is everything I can ever want and yet I can hardly find the words to speak. Why am I afraid? What is that she is holding agents my back? "do you want to play a game?" she breaths the phrase into my ear.

"what game?" I galp

Samur walks into the game room and closes the door, hidden behind it is a wooden target board, she picks up from the table in the room a par of dirk. "every throw knives before?"

"Once or twice."

"let me see" Samur hands off the short blades. I may have exaggerated my ability to throw knives. With my first throw I fail to even hit the door with my next I hit the target with the blunt end and bounce it off.

Samur picks up the knives next, she throws like a wimp, not a one of her throws landing. Something feels wrong, did she miss because she doesn't know how to throw knives or did she miss because I missed?

I pick up the knives and try again. I don't do much better. Samur hands me the knife to try again then jokes with me, her tails flicking about "do you like gambling?"

"I have been known to flip a few cards."

"I make you a bet. You get two more throws, my next one will be closer."

I saw her throw, I know she can't do this, I think. So I take the bet "what is on the table?"

"I want a pet."

"A pet?"

She pulls a dog caller from under the bar "I want you to be my pet."

"what if you miss?" I know sounds stubbed, I know this is a bad idea but I am feeling good about myself.

Playfully Samur clips the caller around herself "you get to be the master."

Suddenly my balls take charge. I know I can do this, I wined up and throw my first knife. Bullseye! Too bad it was handle first. Second throw I cut the lower right corner off the target. That is worth something right?

Samur smiles brightly, her eyes narrow and as she picks up the knifes she leans forth and sticks her tail high in the air mocking me, forcing me to look at her tail. She looks over her shoulder as she stands back up and scandalously comments "A true killer I see. Where you just playing with me with your first throw?" Samur's hands draw up her body calling attention to her sharp hips.

She walks up alongside me one foot slightly in front of the other as she turns to face the target. A quick twist of the hips and her left arm swings out in ridge-hand two fingers on one side of the knives handle and her thumb on the other side. her throw isn't good, it isn't masterful, it is downright artful. Like some sort of an assassin stepping off the canvas of a middle age poem the knife strikes the target cutting the horizon perfectly.

I mutter "that can't be."

Samur clearly hears me as she brings her other hand up and slaps her shoulder lunching an underhanded throw from her right side slinging the other knife into the dart board just under her first knife the two of their handles crossing in a 'T' shape.

Samur turns her eyes to me with a uneven grin on her face. She takes off the caller she is wearing and wraps her arms over my shoulders clipping it around my neck. I can only assume that if you have the sort of money that the Ashcroft have you can afford to spend time doing things like learning how to throw knifes. Samur smirks darkly "It now looks as if I should own you."