by Scott Baron
Hozark put on a happy smile and forced out a jaunty little whistle. “So, I’d say show me the problem,” he said, sniffing the air. “But I think I can smell it from here,” he said with a laugh.
Her silence clearly indicated that he was the only one amused. With a little shrug, he headed into the resplendent restroom to start his work. And with that, he would move his plan to stage two.
Chapter Five
The smell emanating from the restroom chamber was not as strong as Hozark had anticipated.
He had been meticulous arranging the little dissolving packets he had affixed deep within the pipe system, ensuring their magical bond holding them to the metal would not trigger any alarms. But as for Oxalla’s sense of smell, well, he simply couldn’t be sure just how sensitive it was.
Given her rather sheltered existence, free from the difficulties and unpleasantnesses of normal people’s lives, Hozark had opted for a fairly strong release of smell, but not so much as he might use for a regular city dweller. She would take to her rooms, freshen up, and then, a few hours later, notice a smell.
By that time, there would be a very slight blockage in her private toilet facilities. Simply a sponge-like piece of plant matter, carefully placed, and easily removed, but more than enough to make her call for maintenance.
Or have her aide call, as the case would most certainly be. Actually contacting the help was not the sort of thing Oxalla Slahn did. It was simply beneath her, and she had people for that.
Naturally, the aide would be a trusted person, the one soul allowed to stay close to her at all times, tending to her every need and whim. A thankless job, no doubt, but one that brought with it great power.
And speaking of power, as Hozark walked through the vast suites Oxalla Slahn now occupied, he noted there was no trace of naturally occurring magic. Yes, there were plenty of powered devices in her chambers, but the woman herself, and her aide, were both unpowered beings.
He had expected as much, based on the intelligence the Wampeh Ghalian network of spies had acquired for him during his preparation. But, sometimes, on rare occasion a truly powerful visla could utilize their own power to mask itself, making them appear quite benign, when in fact they were anything but.
Denna Slahn, however, did not seem to be utilizing any such tricks.
“Hey, that’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” Hozark said.
“It is foul, and disgusting, and you will remedy the problem at once,” the aide said, glancing nervously toward the nearby chamber’s closed door.
Her employer was in there. And they would have to pass through her inner sanctum to reach the restroom. The suite had been designed that way on purpose, giving whoever took the main rooms absolute privacy and separation from others, if they so wished.
“Denna Slahn,” the aide said as she quietly knocked on the door. “The repair person has arrived to handle the problem. May I show him through?”
There was no reply for a long moment, then the door slid open. Standing before him in an outfit that simply screamed wealth and power, was the tall woman herself. She glanced at Hozark for a second, her disdain for the mere worker clear in her look. Then, she turned and walked back across the room without a word, leaving the door open.
“Come, quickly,” the assistant said, ushering him through her personal space and into the closed restroom.
Hozark had been mistaken. The smell was actually quite strong, but it seemed that the woman’s aide had managed to cast a very rudimentary blocking spell, containing the majority of the stench to within the room once the door had shut.
Now that it was open, however, the spell was broken. Apparently, this sort of magic was not the woman’s strong suit. But no matter. She wouldn’t have to worry about it much longer.
“Wow. Okay. Now that is something,” Hozark said, playing his innocent Binnik role to the hilt. “I can see why you guys were in such a rush. I’ll get right to it.”
“Do so. And when you complete your task, you are to depart at once. And do not disturb the denna. Is that clear?”
“Yeah, sure. But where will you be?”
“I will be right outside the door. Now, do your job and get out.”
“Sheesh. Fine. I’ll just get to it, then,” he said, feigning mild offense, then shutting the restroom door and loudly spreading out his tools.
He knew the assistant was tempted to stay and watch him work, despite her attitude. The novelty of this resort’s many unusual non-magical systems was fascinating to all who stayed there, including the guests’ staff. Actual pipes to transport waste rather than magic? It was unheard of anywhere but here these days. And it was fascinating.
But there were appearances to be maintained, and class distinctions to uphold. Her kind, even as a servant of a different sort, did not mix with his.
The door to the master chambers shut. He was alone now. And Oxalla Slahn was in the nearby study. Unguarded. Of course, she still possessed her very effective personal protection spell, which he had already seen in action.
That was likely why her guards had felt so comfortable leaving her alone with the pathetic worker so near and only her personal attendant nearby. The man clearly had no weapons, and if he were to be foolish enough to attempt to attack her, a horrible demise would befall him.
It was also the reason her personal guards were stationed outside. Once inside her suites, she had her own protection around her at all times. Denna Slahn was perfectly secure. Or so she believed.
Hozark banged around with his tools for a few minutes, then cracked the door open, peering out into the adjacent room. The aide was there, but her boss was not. She was likely in the next chamber.
Perfect.
“Occlustra hantsa,” he said with the faintest whisper, quietly casting the smallest of muting spells on the far doorway.
It was a tiny bit of magic, and one of the few he was allowed to pull from the work konus provided to him. A simple spell provided to the staff to help them keep the guests from being disturbed whenever they were doing work near an occupied chamber.
And now, it would keep any outside the door from hearing a thing.
Hozark quickly purged his stench spell, making himself fresh and pleasant. He also removed all but a trace of the stink within the restroom, simply flushing the small vial of solvent he had in his case down the pipe. It only took a minute before both the blockage and foul odor packet he had placed were washed away.
He then stepped out into the chamber.
“Hey. Could you show me what exactly the problem was? I’m looking at this thing, but it seems to be working fine.”
“It was most certainly not working fine,” the assistant said. “You smelled it when you arrived.”
“But that cleared as soon as you opened the door. Are you sure the lady didn’t just have some powerful gas or something?”
“You dare?”
“Hey, just a logical question in my line of work. Anyway, I need you to show me exactly where the problem was so I can fix it.”
The woman hesitated.
“Or is it your boss we need to ask?” he added, knowing full well that the aide was not allowed into Oxalla’s private restroom. She would have to fetch her employer.
“One moment,” she said, then crossed to the shut door at the far end of the room.
“Uh, excuse me? Denna Slahn?” she said, gently knocking on the door. “The worker has a question. I apologize for the interruption, but he says it will help him repair the problem with your facilities.”
There was a long silence that hung in the air as he waited. This was the one weak spot in his plan. The woman’s whims. But, hopefully, the allure of the building’s unusual systems would entice even her.
Finally, the door opened.
“You dare disturb me?” she said with a cold stare, yet one that hid a slight curiosity.
The worker needed her? And the unusual systems would be laid bare for her to see their inner workings? She was annoyed, yet
intrigued by the novelty.
Yes, this would work just fine.
“With me,” she said as she strode across the room and into the restroom, her aide in tow.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Denna Slahn,” Hozark said. “But I’m working on the plumbing––that’s the network of pipes in the unit that make the system function––but I can’t seem to see any problem with it. In fact, it seems to be working just fine.”
“It was not working just fine,” she hissed as she eyed the unusual shapes of the pipes he had exposed. “Are your senses so dulled that you could not smell that foul stench?”
“I mean, there’s a little bit of an odor. But that’s natural when I’m working on the pipes. But could you maybe show me exactly where the problem was?”
“It was the whole thing!”
“I just need to know where. Could you point it out?”
The woman’s ire was rising, quickly eclipsing her curiosity. “It was there. There, you fool!” she said, leaning in close, jabbing her finger at the open pipe.
As if on cue––because it was––a great stream of shit and waste water spewed out of the pipe, erupting with geyser force, coating her from head to toe.
“Wha-what in the hells have you––?” she began to shriek, ready to go into a full meltdown.
Hozark didn’t hesitate, delivering a rapid stunning blow to both Oxalla and her aide. He then removed a vial from his work kit and poured a few drops into the ears of each of the women.
It would absorb instantly, leaving no trace, and the poor victims would simply wake with a massive headache in about six hours.
He would be long gone by then.
Oxalla Slahn’s ego, ire, and overconfidence had been the last ingredient Hozark had needed for his plan to work. There was simply no way he could have reached her through her personal protective spell. The bubble around her extended out a full meter, deflecting and destroying anything coming her way.
But it was also tied to its possessor’s will, leaving things she reached for unscathed. And when she had leaned in close to point out the problem to the stupid worker, she had brought him willingly, though unwittingly, into her space.
And now she lay on the hard floor, her clothing, likely worth more than her staff earned in a year, coated with shit.
But that wasn’t enough.
Hozark summoned up more and more feces and filth from the pipes, piling it on top of the unconscious woman, covering her from head to toe. He then pulled up the simplest of spells. One no one thought to prevent the staff from casting. Why would they? What harm could it possibly do?
With a little grin, Hozark uttered the words that cast the backup waste removal spell. The one only to be used when there was a serious time issue at hand that couldn’t wait for manual repair. The one that removed filth and waste and deposited it far across the city in the shit heap stored within an underground chamber.
In a flash, the pile of shit was gone, and with it, Denna Oxalla Slahn. The most guarded woman on the planet.
It was a kidnapping by feces.
Hozark quickly cleaned the rest of the chamber and put everything back into order, leaving no clue as to what had happened. He then placed the aide on a couch in the outer waiting area, staging her to look as if she’d just fallen asleep on duty.
Hozark gathered his tools, did a final check of the rooms, then walked to the front door.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” he said defensively as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
The guards glanced at him curiously.
“Well, it’s all fixed, but boy is she mad. Is your boss always like that?”
No one dared answer.
“I swear, that woman’s got an anger issue. I mean, she said the next person to stick their head inside that door would lose it. She doesn’t mean that literally, does she?”
The guards’ looks made it clear that she very well may have.
“Well, whatever. I’m done here. You all have a lovely evening,” he said, whistling merrily as he casually headed back down the hallway toward the lift disc.
The persona he was playing was false, but the smile on Hozark’s face was not an act. This was likely the first time a kidnapping had been carried out this way.
Snatched by shit.
He was actually kind of proud of himself for that one.
Spirits high from a job well done, Hozark stepped onto the waiting disc and descended to the lower floors, where he would clock out as if nothing had happened at all. Then he would trot off to the hidden poop heap to retrieve his stinky prize.
Chapter Six
Oxalla Slahn woke up with a pounding in her head. It was far worse than when she had overdone it on a few bottles of vintage Sikorian Rislik, though that hadn’t been the really good stuff. But this? This was just miserable.
The pounding of her pulse in her ears was more than annoying. It was downright painful. And the room felt far brighter than it should have been. And the floor didn’t seem right. Wasn’t there a fine rug on the––
Oxalla sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and senses sharp as a surge of adrenaline flooded into her body. Her naked body, she quickly realized. This was most certainly not her suite in the resort. It was a smallish room, sparsely furnished with a table and bed, both firmly attached to the floor, and a door at either end.
It was only then that she noticed the man sitting quietly against the far wall, observing her with a calm stare. He was wearing plain, clean clothes with no identifying markings, but she realized she recognized him.
“You’re that shit cleaner,” she hissed. “What in the hell have you done? And where are my clothes?” she demanded, rising quickly to her feet.
“You really don’t want to do that,” Hozark replied. “I suggest you sit down before you––”
Oxalla felt her legs go weak and the room tilt as she fell back to the ground.
“As I was saying,” he continued, “you should move slowly for the time being. It will take a little while for your equilibrium to return.”
The pale-green woman glared pure hate at him as she realized her situation.
“Coward. You need to drug me to feel like a real man?” she said, spitting at him, though the effort made the room spin a bit more.
“Oh, it was not drugs that rendered you helpless,” he said. “They were merely employed to keep you quiet for a time. You do go on so, and we could not have that.”
There it was again. That damn calm smile creeping onto the edges of his lips. The man was in total control of her, and she knew it. For once, the most feared woman in several systems was at another’s mercy.
“So, what now?” the naked woman asked, barely covering herself with her long arms. “You plan to use me for your gratification, then?”
Hozark stared at her with disquieting silence for a long moment.
“I have no such plans for you, Denna Slahn,” he finally replied.
It was at that moment that he saw the faintest flicker of disappointment in her eyes.
Aah, so that’s how she is, he realized. A powerful woman with a proclivity for domination.
It was in no way uncommon, though it tended to be with consent that those types of power-play scenarios unfolded. But she seemed to prefer it a bit more dangerous than that. And likely rougher, from what he could tell.
But Hozark wasn’t one to kink shame anyone. Lord knew he had seen far, far stranger things in his day. Used people’s secret urges to gain access to targets on more than one occasion, in fact.
“Drink this,” he said, sliding a cup of hot tea to his prisoner.
“What is it? Poison?”
“If I’d wanted you dead, you would be,” he noted. “This is Gorram root. It will help alleviate the negative effects of the compound in your system.”
She stared at the cup a long moment, debating whether or not what he said was true. But she was alive, and at his mercy. Had he wished to do her harm, he could have at any time, yet he cho
se not to. Perhaps, she might be able to swing this situation to her advantage yet.
But she would need a clear head for that.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the offered cup and raising it to her lips.
The fluid was hot and surprisingly sweet, not bitter like she had expected it to be. And, as it made its way to her growling stomach, she realized her head actually did feel better.
Oxalla rose from the floor, slowly, and took a seat on the low bed, making no effort to cover herself.
“So, you drugged me, then stripped me for your own amusement, I see?” she said with a piercing, critical gaze. “What a banal and so very male thing to do.”
Hozark chuckled. “It was for your benefit as well as mine,” he replied. “You were rather, shall we say, unpresentable after our last encounter. I thought a thorough cleaning was in order before we proceeded, for both our sakes.”
“And now?”
“Now we can talk.”
Oxalla stretched her naked body, making a show of it as she leaned back against the surprisingly comfortably warm wall. At least her temporary prison was properly climate controlled. She also noted her little display had not budged her captor in the slightest.
“What? You think you will learn my secrets? Oh, you don’t know how many have tried. But you’ll not get anything from me,” she said with a rebellious little laugh.
Her captor smiled a most unnerving grin. He was confident. Far too confident. And a little twinge of uncertainty settled into her stomach.
“Oh, my dear, but I already have,” he replied, staring deep into her eyes. It was a trick she was fond of herself, but this time, she was the one who looked away.
The shit cleaner––which was obviously not his true profession––rose and retrieved a small box from the shelf formed in the surface of the wall itself. He returned to his seat, then opened it for her to see.
Vials were neatly lined up in a row, their contents carefully arranged by color, some of the liquids gently bubbling against the glass of their containers. The man smiled as she stared at the collection.
