179: She Who Bears Witness

There is one (1) previously published artwork, five NEW (5) colored and one (1) black & white artworks for DISCIPLE members. Sign up & log in to view to images by visiting our secret fine dining establishment. For more details on membership tiers, ways to support the site and how to purchase comics/collections, click here. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. 


Welcome fellow diners. This update, we revisit the lore of the Tales of the Vanished of old, an expansion of an older artwork. We have scenes that took place in the 19th century, post World War 2, and throughout the decades preceding the millennium. This update takes place in 2006, at the height of Zagotovshchik's ascendancy in the Circle, before the Diarchy. Four unwilling women, fighting each other for survival, with only one who would emerge as a survivor, and the loser becoming the feast. That is the trial and ancient ritual of the Lua Mater.


The pretty dark haired girl with the braids bore witness to her own demise. Her head serving as a trophy that hung on the wall bore witness to the horrific proceeding, a ritual feast that had endured since Roman times. A young girl who knew enough of the streets to grow tough enough to be a worthy fighter in the end, succumbed to a fighter more capable than herself, and in the presence of the diners, the Osnovatel, the Founder, the feast is set.

Lua Mater Satania missed the days when she fought in the arena herself, once a young girl herself fighting for her life, not unlike the one who she was about to devour. Time and time again, she survived the many dozens of battles, each moment on a knife's edge, any moment of carelessness would mean life or death.

But for over a decade, she endured, she survived, and ultimately during the latter years before she was inducted into the Inner Circle, she had even partook on the flesh of the vanquished, a rare pleasure she didn't realize she actually relished. Once she was regarded as deer, as quarry, now she was a senior and integral member of the Circle, an organization that rarely invites the one with the Flesh of Fem to join their ranks. But she earned that trust, through cruelty and that equal lust for that flesh. For every victory, she grew in confidence, in skill, and ferociousness, until her final fight, the one that almost did her in, the one who would forced her retirement from the ring and evolution from potential prey to one of the loyal high-ranking members of the Society. The ultimate betrayer of her own gender.

Female members of the Circle had been few and far between, one whom she knew and befriended had been The Consort. Satania had been bestowed the Matronship of the Theodate Dance Conservatory in Chicago, the Consort had the Island with The Financier.


And here, in Club Asterion Chicago, a secret feast was about to be served. The flesh of the vanquished. The girl with the braids had been the youngest among the 4 fighters, young and tough, but ultimately naive, she had fleeting thoughts of being her mentor if she had been victorious mostly because she reminded Satania of herself in her youth. But sometimes fate frowns on the fair and now she bears witness to her own violation of her delicious corpse.

A pity. She would've made a fine student.





Bonus preview sketches:

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