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Natalie Scatoriccio never considered herself to be a particularly lucky person. Sure, she was on a team that was headed to Nationals–that is, before the plane taking her there decided to make a crash-landing into the middle of nowhere–but the small sense of satisfaction that she gained from such an achievement never quite satisfied the ache in her soul. In truth, Nat could not help but feel as though her small triumphs in life could not make up for the severe presence of misfortune which clouded her every waking moment.
When the plane crashed, Natalie knew that her life as she knew it had officially ended. She remembers the events of that day in such clarity that she wonders if her life even existed before the plane went down. She remembers it all. The heat of the flames licking the back of her knees as she stumbled through the rubble. The lingering metal debris in the air infiltrating her mouth in such a way that for a second she felt she would taste it forever. The smell of burning flesh and the sights that accompanied it. The small experience of relief that she felt, knowing that the tragedies which characterized her life thus far now paled in comparison to the future to come. For a split second, Nat felt as though she had finally escaped the nightmarish haze of her early life. When the plane crashed, her father’s anger splintered away into the Wilderness, making friends with the trees and cradling the dead alongside them.When the plane crashed, Natalie Scatoriccio was finally free.
After the plane crashed, a lot of things in Nat’s life changed in ways she had never anticipated. For the first time, Natalie found herself undeniably in love. Although she had never before considered the idea of getting involved with her coach’s kin, she quickly became captivated by Travis Martinez and the subtle sadness that seemed to linger in his presence. Nat admired his doe-like eyes, which seemed to attempt to harden whenever he gazed at her. She grew to cherish Travis’ guardedness, the hesitancy that accompanied his attempts at opening up to her. What drew her in even more, however, was the complexity of his rough exterior; she felt a thrill in his temperament and relished the ease with which she could set him off. Yet, it was Travis’ softness that truly made Natalie fall in love with him. Sure, she found herself drawn to the grittiness of his words and the fire behind them, but it was his vulnerability that captivated her in the deepest way. She noticed the tremble in his voice, and the way his pointer finger quivered whenever it rested on the trigger of their hunting rifle. Every time she ran her fingers through his hair, she appreciated how his heart would pump just a little bit faster. Those moments of intimacy transformed their connection, weaving a tapestry of affection that both thrilled and terrified her.
Losing Travis’ companionship was a mortifying ordeal. For weeks now Nat could feel Travis’ absence. Sure, he was still around–yet to join the dead in their eternal salvation–but the two were not talking and that was almost worse. To know that Travis no longer wished to be in her company was a blow to Natalie’s ego that she was simply not prepared for. While she knew that saving herself over Javi would have consequences, Natalie never dared imagine that Travis would dispel her from his life to the extent that he had. But that's besides the point. Now that she had been crowned “queen” by Lottie, Nat found her hands full, burdened with the weight of her new responsibilities. The luxury of dwelling on the lingering aftertaste of a failed romance was a privilege she could no longer afford. No, Natalie had to pull it together and embrace her role, just as Lottie had done at the beginning of this newfound hell.
Despite all of this, Natalie still longed for the softness in Travis’ touch. She longed for the life she had before Lottie had crowned her queen, so much so that she envied the freedom Lottie now experienced in her resignation from regality. With all of her free time, Nat could not help but notice the interest Lottie had taken in Travis. Truthfully speaking, it was not Natalie fixating on the two’s relationship, but rather the obvious adoration woven into their interactions. The way Lottie looked at Travis as though he held the sun in his hands. The look of reverence in Travis’ eyes when he set his sights on Lottie. The way the two seemed so comfortable in existing as their own fucked-up selves infront of one another. Natalie longed to share in their connection. But this longing was to no avail, she felt, for there was no room for such a lonely queen to sit within the peasant’s nest and feast upon their shared intensities. Nonetheless, Nat had to fight back the pang of hurt she felt every time she watched Travis wander into the woods with Lottie by his side.
She could only guess what it was they were doing alone together for such long stretches of time. Did they touch each other, weaving their fingers together like intertwined roots seeking nourishment? Were they participating in acts of worship? Or were they engaging in acts of heresy, as she suspected, defying a God who had once been a close companion but whose presence had now faded into something ethereal, her hair a wild and outgrown heap upon her head? Perhaps they conspired against her, a secret alliance forged in shadows, their laughter echoing like the distant chime of bells that no longer rang for her. Maybe they hated her. Hated the power she was now forced to wield. Perhaps Natalie would never know.
It's not like she was jealous–no, Nat would never allow herself to let Lottie and Travis’ newfound closeness get to her–but she felt left out in a weird sort of way. When she watched the two walk away from the encampment together, Nat felt as though her ribs were being ripped out of her body and shoved down her throat, each piercing a new hole in the back of her neck. To put it simply, Nat’s distance from the two–and the curiosity which followed it–was agonizing.
It is perhaps these feelings of agony which led Nat to drag her feet, now perpetually bruised and swollen in her falling-apart shoes, away from the comfort of her tent to the clearing Travis and Lottie had disappeared into only mere minutes ago. No one else on the team seemed to care about the two’s whereabouts whenever they wandered off. Who is to say that they would care if Natalie wandered off too? After all, Nat’s authority was beginning to wane and she knew it was only a matter of time before the team dethroned her. Perhaps her walking away would go unnoticed amidst everyone’s rising discontent for her.
After a walk nearing about twenty minutes—if Nat is correct, that is—Natalie finds Travis and Lottie adorning similar white dresses and laying in a patch of grass beneath a weeping willow tree. The sight is surreal, almost ethereal, as if they’ve stepped out of a different reality entirely. When they spot her, Lottie waves and rises from her spot. Travis stays behind, giving Natalie a wide-eyed look, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else—perhaps longing.
“Natalie.” Lottie’s eyebrows are raised ever so slightly when she says Natalie’s name, but the slight tilt of her mouth shows that the girl’s shock is not fueled by displeasure.
“Hello Lottie,” Nat sucks in a breath, adjusting her gaze to where Travis lays in the grass. Beautiful, she thinks, pondering why it is that she has never been so worthy as to see Travis in such a state before now. There he lay, in all his flushed-out glory, like a fawn left discarded by its mother at the conclusion of a terribly successful hunt. Natalie wonders if Travis has always looked this frail and defenseless. She concludes that the Wilderness must do this to everyone. After all, she is sure she looks much the same these days.
In her study of Travis, Natalie almost fails to notice the fullness of Lottie’s pockets.
“What do you have there?”
Lottie looks down at her pockets, pulling out a small blackberry, its dark surface glistening with moisture, an alluring contrast to the soft white of her dress.
“Berries. You see, Travis and I have discovered that these little things carry very powerful hallucinogenic properties. The Wilderness uses them as a way to communicate with us. We have been holding rituals with them, and our insights have been plentiful.” As Lottie says this, Travis lifts his head and gives an encouraging smile in Natalie’s direction, his eyes sparkling with an almost childlike wonder. “I see,” Natalie says hesitantly, “well I will leave you to it.” She cannot shake the feeling that she is interrupting an intimate moment between the two, an unspoken connection that hums in the air around them.
“Oh, well we were just about to begin the ritual. I am sure I speak for the both of us when I say we would love for you to join us.” As she says this, Lottie takes two steps toward Natalie, her hand extended out in the girl’s direction. The invitation is both thrilling and terrifying, a tug-of-war between curiosity and caution. Natalie detects a shiver as it runs down her spine, electrifying her senses. She reminds herself of her past stance as a staunch heretic and wonders if submitting herself to Lottie now would be a crime against her personal convictions.
Yet, as the weight of the moment settles around her, she feels an inexplicable pull—an urge to break free from her self-imposed shackles. She decides she is too far gone at this point to stand against whatever allure Lottie is presenting to her. So, Natalie takes her hand, sensing the warmth radiating from Lottie’s touch, grounding her in this surreal space.
Lottie offers her a soft smile, radiant and full of promise, as she leads Natalie to the patch of grass where Travis is resting. The world seems to fall away, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of the Wilderness whispering secrets they could only hope to understand. In that moment, the complexities of their camp dynamics fade, leaving only this strange, sacred triangle, poised on the brink of something transformative.
When they reach Travis, Lottie releases Natalie’s hand and gets on her knees, resting her forehead against the denim of Natalie’s ripped jeans. She begins to whisper a prayer to herself, and for once Natalie is not compelled to laugh at Lottie ritualistic behaviors. It is at this moment Natalie feels the most saint-like she has ever felt in her life. She reminds herself that this is just Lottie being Lottie and that she should not allow herself to dwell on the feelings of power the other girl is presenting to her, but she cannot help but fall victim to the gentle caress of Lottie’s hands against the backs of her thighs. And so Natalie puts her mind at ease and rejoices in the worship Lottie is so willingly performing for her. In any other situation, Natalie would be caught off-guard. Perhaps even worried that Lottie’s physical affections would turn sexual. But Natalie knows that Lottie has no interest in the pleasures of the body. No, Lottie is far too preoccupied with the pleasures of the soul. Lottie places a kiss on her stomach.
“I shall prepare you now.” Lottie rises from her knees and pulls out a small blackberry from her pocket. “Close your eyes.” Natalie cannot fathom what forces may have possessed her to listen to Lottie in such resignation, but she lets her eyelids close and parts her lips in anticipation.
Lottie takes a bite from the berry–just large enough to expose the pink juices waiting inside of it. She then presses the gash against Natalie’s tips, smothering the berrie’s blood all over her mouth until it is stained a deep magenta. Lottie hums in satisfaction, before putting both hands on Natalie’s shoulders and urging her to sink down to the ground. Natalie follows the physical instruction gladly, keeping her eyes closed as she falls to her knees before Lottie. Once on her knees, Natlie feels Lottie move away. She experiences an unfamiliar pang of disappointment at the loss of Lottie’s touch. Natalie questions where this desire for the other girl has come from all of sudden. She concludes that it must have always been present, but that it was simply lying dormant until it was time to be revealed. She hears the distinct sounds of rustling next to her.
“Open your eyes, Natalie.” Lottie’s voice pulls her out of her haze, and Natlie opens her eyes quickly. She feels mildly dizzy. When she finally finds it in herself to focus her eyes, Natalie looks to her left, letting out a light gasp at the scene before her.
Next to her, Travis is adorning the same magenta color on his lips (at least she assumes it is the same color, if the pigment resting on Lottie’s fingertips means anything). His eyes are blown out and glossy, almost as though he is in a trance. When Travis finally lifts his eyes to meet her’s, Natalie feels a shiver run down her spine. Travis offers her a dopey smile in return, he cheeks growing red at her obvious adoration.
“Natalie,” he breathes out, “you look wonderful.” Natalie feels herself tremble at the sound of his voice.
Fuck, she thinks, what have I gotten myself into?
“Now to commence this ritual, we must seal our souls with a kiss. Only through this method can we promise one another protection in our journey to new insights.” Lottie bends over, placing her face in the space between Travis and Natalie’s heads. She looks at Travis and tilts her head in a silent question. Travis enthusiastically nods his head, closing his eyes in preparation for Lottie’s touch. Natalie watches in anticipation as Lottie joins the two on her knees, cupping Travis’ face in her hands. Lottie leans in, ghosting her lips atop his. Travis opens his mouth ever so slightly and tilts his head into Lottie so that their lips finally touch. The act is one of worship, Natalie is sure of it. Travis shrinks down when he kisses Lottie, almost as though he is urging her to take power over him. Lottie gladly accepts this submission, smiling into the kiss in a way that makes Natalie’s head spin.
Once the two depart, Lottie turns her head towards Natalie, who gulps before whimpering out a soft “please.” Lottie gladly accepts the invitation. When Natalie kisses Lottie, it mirrors an act of submission. Natalie feels as though she is a lowly princess, not yet comfortable in her duties, who has called upon a goddess for her divine intellect. The kiss is prophetic. It is doomed. It is as if Natalie is offering her soul to Lottie in a sacrificial act. And Natalie loves it. She does not take more than Lottie offers her, but she gladly shares in Lottie’s sour taste and the sharpness of her teeth. When Lottie pulls away, it feels like a rejection. But it is not. Natalie knows that, for Lottie presses a kiss to the bridge of Natalie’s nose and smiles at her.
“You must finish the ceremony. I will watch.” Lottie leans back so she is sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, her chin resting in the gap between them. She looks up at Travis and Natalie, as though she is resigning to a lowly place. Natalie looks at Travis, afraid of his rejection, but the rejection never comes. Travis, wide-eyed and hungry, pushes himself towards Natalie, and the two kiss with a fervor Natalie has never experienced in her life. The kiss is not submissive and doting like their shared kisses with Lottie, but aggressive, as if they are fighting for dominance. The kiss is all teeth and bitterness and blood, and Natalie feels her face flush, embarrassed at the hunger growing in her stomach. Travis must feel the same, for he grabs a fistful of Natalie’s hair in his left hand and pushes her head closer to his. In defiance of this dominant act, Natalie pushes herself forward, craning her neck so that she is on top of him. She dives as deep into his mouth as she can and Travis makes a hungry sort of sound in the back of his throat.
While the two continue to devour one another, Lottie removes herself from the shade of the tree, a sense of purpose guiding her steps. She scans the field, her eyes bright as they find a sunspot in the grass—a perfect, golden patch that beckons her closer. Moving toward it, Lottie lays flat on her back and lets out a blissful sigh, her body sinking into the warmth of the earth. She extends both arms out, parallel to her head, as though mimicking the wings of a divine being. In that moment, she looks like an angel, haloed by sunlight and ethereal in her serenity.
Once Natalie and Travis separate, the world around them seems to hold its breath. A string of saliva connects their mouths, a tangible reminder of their shared moment. They turn their attention to the angel laying in the grass a few feet away from them.
“Gather,” Lottie whispers softly, her voice delicate yet commanding. At once, Travis and Natalie surge into action, crawling towards her on their hands and knees. They move with an instinctive eagerness, behaving like devoted followers, willing themselves to do anything to please their leader. When they reach her, Natalie lays to Lottie’s left, while Travis settles to her right. The trio forms a circle of warmth and trust, their heads resting on Lottie’s outstretched arms, feeling her calming presence envelop them.
Lottie sighs in contentment, and her eyes flutter closed, a serene smile gracing her lips. Following her lead, Travis and Natalie close their eyes, surrendering to the tranquility of the moment. As they drift into slumber, their breaths sync, creating a rhythm that resonates with the heartbeat of the Wilderness around them.
When Natalie awakens, she feels the sun’s gentle caress on her skin, drawing her from her dreams. She raises herself from the grass and gazes down upon Lottie, the angel, with her revenant follower, Travis, nestled close. In this moment, a sense of profound connection washes over her, as if they are bound by an invisible thread of shared experience.
Leaning forward, Natalie presses a tender kiss to Lottie’s forehead. Then, she smooths her hand over Travis’ hair, detecting the softness beneath her fingertips and the warmth of his breath where it lands on her arm.
“Pretty baby,” she whispers, her voice a blend of affection and bittersweet longing, savoring the tranquility of the moment.
With a soft smile lingering on her lips, Natalie takes a step back, allowing the warmth of the sun to wash over her. In that instant, she experiences a shift within herself—an awakening. The bond they’ve created, fragile yet resilient, fills her with a sense of belonging. As she turns to walk away, the sunbeams shimmer around her like a golden halo, illuminating her path forward. She takes one last look at the two where they lay in the grass and smiles softly to herself. At this moment, perhaps Natalie Scatoriccio can finally consider herself lucky.