Copyright © 2020 Wet Leaf Press
RADLEY’S LABYRINTH FOR HORNY MONSTERS First Edition
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
ISBN: 978-1949654028 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1949654035 (paperback)
Written by Annabelle Hawthorne
Published by Wet Leaf Press
www.wetleafpress.com
Cover Design by 100Covers.com
Interior Design by FormattedBooks.com
This book is for the freaks
the geeks
and the outcasts
Contents
The View from Up Here
The Library
Planting the Seeds
New Castle
Man in the Mirror
A Series of Unfortunate Events
The Labyrinth
Memories and Minotaurs
Caught in the Trap
Finding the Center
The Worst Place on Earth
The Coming Storm
In the Eye of the Storm
Bigger on the Inside
Afterword
About the Author
THE VIEW FROM UP HERE
In all the time Mike had been alive, he’d never had much need for home repair. Any issues inside of the house had been fixable with a quick call to the landlord, and the worst he had ever dealt with was a dishwasher that had backed up onto his kitchen floor.
However, now there was no landlord to call, no problem that could be fixed with the push of a button. It was his house, his problem, and right now, the front of his home was a wreck. The planking had been torn up from the wraparound porch and the railing destroyed when a psychotic witch named Sarah had hurled Abella across the yard and into the decking. The roof above it had begun to sag, though it was quickly shored up by spare wood that Tink had found. Luckily Abella was crazy strong, and Mike had mostly supervised the reinstallation of the support beams, watching the gargoyle lift the roof up high enough while Tink properly replaced the busted wood, standing on a ladder while Mike handed her tools.
The little goblin was the picture of home improvement efficiency. By the time he had returned from the greenhouse last week, she had already ordered almost everything they needed to fix the front of his damaged home. Each day brought with it a new shipment of supplies, and Tink made the time to show Mike how to help her.
The bushes had been pulled up, and the trellis beneath had been removed, the delicate wood having been shattered by Abella’s impact. Tink had found a new trellis online, declaring the Magic Screen the best invention known to man. It was supposed to arrive next week, with instructions to leave it at the bottom of the driveway. Mike was no longer taking any chances with deliveries, especially not after Sarah had ended up nearly killing him disguised as a delivery person.
Tink was busy taking measurements, making several notes in a small journal Mike had bought for her. She wore a pair of overalls and a white tank top, both purchased in the “little miss” section of a store for tweens in the mall. The goblin was a whiz on the sewing machine—she had taken in the sides and adjusted the legs so that the clothes were a perfect fit. Her hair had been pulled back into a bright-red ponytail, revealing both of her horns and a pencil tucked behind each ear, with yet another in her mouth. Making a note to herself, she set down the pencil she’d been writing with, measured another gap, then pulled the pencil from between her lips to write down her findings. She wore an ankle brace now, her foot still not well enough to be walked on. It had been a struggle to make the little goblin take it easy around the house for a couple of days, but Mike had told her it was human law that a wife needed to let her husband care for her.
A big stickler for following the law, Tink had acquiesced. It was the same reason they were married, in fact. Shortly after moving in, she had started a territorial dispute with him, and he had married her to keep her from being kicked out of the house as the loser. Consummating the marriage had been far more fun than expected, and Tink didn’t seem to mind the sexual relationships he had with the other women of the house.
“Excuse me?”
Mike turned around to see a young man holding a box on the front walk.
“Mr. Radley?”
“That’s me.” Mike cautiously approached the man, then signed for the package. The delivery driver waited patiently, taking no notice of the little green woman fixing the porch. Mike even looked back to make sure she was there, marveling at how the magical geas protected his home. Unless invited inside, nobody would see the magical creatures that lived within.
“Your house is so cool,” the driver remarked, taking the paperwork back. “When I was a kid, my friends and I used to dare each other to ring the bell. We all thought it was haunted, but none of us ever had the guts to actually make it to the door.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I dunno. Weird stuff always seemed to happen around here. I know this will sound stupid, you know, kids and all, but one time my friend Jacob said he made it onto the porch. He was going to hit the bell when we heard this woman scream bloody murder at him, so he bolted. I think it was probably a rabbit under the porch or something. I hear they can scream like people.”
“No, it’s a ghost. She’s a screamer. Does that shit all the time.”
The delivery driver’s eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. Mike waited several breaths and then winked at him.
“Oh, shit, you had me. You actually had me. Felt like I was ten all over again. Have a good day, man!” He waved, jogging back to his car and driving away. Mike looked at the porch swing, Cecilia rocking gently back and forth with a smirk on her face. The banshee was sort of like a ghost, but she was definitely a screamer.
Mike brought the box inside, then carefully unpacked its contents. Satisfied everything was there, he quickly organized the items on the kitchen table. He scooped up the first bundle and walked out the back door of the house into the garden.
The garden area was built like a courtyard. The exterior wall of the garage was to the left, and the wooden siding transformed at the corner into a stone wall that surrounded the property, save for the wrought iron gate that gave access to the forest behind the house. In the middle of the yard was a large fountain, and standing in it was the nymph, Naia. She had summoned tiny spheres of water that bounced across the surface of the fountain, currently being chased by a pair of determined squirrels. Tossing her greenish-blue hair over one shoulder, Naia winked at him.
“Hello, lover,” she said, the skirt of her white gown floating on the water’s surface.
“Naia.” He had discovered the nymph his first night in the house, a sexual encounter in his bathtub that had swapped a small piece of their souls, binding him to the house as its Caretaker.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the small bundle he was holding.
“A couple of things.” He handed her a catalog. “First, here are some flowers I thought we could plant by the fountain along with some pots for them to go in. I brought you the catalog so that we could pick them out together.”
“I love flowers!” Naia hopped up and down, her breasts jiggling pleasantly beneath her gown.
“I also bought you this.” He held u
p a small jewelry box. Opening the lid revealed a small pendant on a silver chain. “It isn’t anything special, but it reminded me of you.”
“For me?” Naia stared at it, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“Yeah.” Mike picked up the chain and showed her the pendant. In the sun’s light, it reflected several different colors. “This is abalone jewelry; it’s made from a shell.”
“It’s beautiful!” Naia turned around, lifting up her hair. Mike fastened the necklace around her neck, then took in her scent while leaning against her.
She raised the pendant to inspect it. “I love it.”
“I hoped you would.” Mike kissed her on the neck. The fountain swelled with water, briefly overflowing on every side.
“Remind me to thank you properly later.” Naia pressed her ass into him. “I’m afraid if I thank you now, Tink will get angry that you are avoiding work.”
“You’re one-thousand-percent correct,” Mike said, remembering Tink had bitten him yesterday for surfing the internet on his phone instead of bringing her a box of screws from the garage. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Naia blew him a kiss, and he walked back through the house to the kitchen, grabbing a couple more items on his way through. On the front deck, he turned right and made his way to the porch swing. Cecilia wore a pretty white dress with simple black shoes, and her sightless white eyes stared out into eternity.
“You brought me something?” Cecilia asked.
“I did.” Mike held up the large cushion. “Well, it’s more for me.” Kneeling beside the swing, he detached the old, ratty seat cushion from it. Cecilia vanished when he pulled it away and reappeared on top of the new one once he had it tied in place. “This way, I can sit and visit with you for a little longer. The old one was starting to hurt my back.”
“Oh, to be alive,” the banshee said, touching the new cushion with ethereal fingers. “Sit with me tonight?”
“You can count on it.” The first time Mike had met Cecilia, she had scared the crap out of him. Now he spent his evenings visiting with her in one way or another. Mike sat on the new cushion, then swung the swing a few times. “Oh man, that is so much better.”
“I’m glad.” Cecilia faded from sight, but the swing kept moving even after Mike got up. Walking into the yard, he looked up at the roof. “Abella?”
The gargoyle appeared in the sky, circling briefly before touching down. Her wings closed around her body, forming a hooded cloak. “Yes?”
Mike handed her an iPad. “I got this for you. It has access to Prime Video, Netflix, and Hulu.”
“Are those magic words?” Abella asked, inspecting the screen in her hands. Mike had purchased a protective case for it, the kind that was meant for little kids. He figured the extra-wide handles would keep Abella from accidentally cracking the screen. She touched one of the app icons on the tablet, her eyes growing wide as the screen flashed when the app opened.
“No. Let me show you.” Mike instructed her in the usage of the tablet. Abella didn’t need sleep so spent her hours watching TV through the back window of the house. She stared in fascination as Mike explained how to bring up the different shows and movies with the touch of a finger.
“This little screen is like magic,” the gargoyle declared, holding it up against the sky.
“And you can take it anywhere. Just don’t let it get wet, and if that little battery picture in the corner gets empty, I can plug it in for you.” Mike suspected this would happen most nights—the thing only had a battery life of ten hours, and it might be worth it to have Tink build Abella a docking station.
Back in the kitchen, Mike looked at the rest of the package’s contents. He had ordered a few power tools for Tink—the little goblin was doing most of her work by hand, and he knew that she could work a lot faster with a few extra modern conveniences.
The last item was in a small jewelry box. As he picked it up, he ran his fingers over the top, wondering if he would even see her. Shaking his head, he stuck the box in a kitchen drawer that contained a bunch of keys, scissors, and tape.
A thud on the wall brought his attention to the giant collection of vines that had framed the window looking out into the back. Smiling, he walked to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a plate with a five-pound roll of raw beef that had defrosted overnight. He unwrapped it, then tossed the plastic in the trash can beneath the sink.
After opening the kitchen window, he handed the meat to the hungry vines that waited, then watched them drag away their snack. Ever since the Mandragora had eaten the witch last week, the plant had been very docile with him, acting like a puppy dog that followed him around whenever he was out back. The vines would slither around him like snakes, eagerly awaiting a gentle pat or even a rub. Mike felt ridiculous scratching a leafy vine as thick as his wrist, but the plant seemed to like it.
Mike grabbed a pair of orange sodas from the fridge and some plated sandwiches he had made earlier. After walking out front, he approached the goblin from behind. She was bent over, trying to get a stubborn board to lie where she wanted it. He gave her butt a playful slap, which caused her to drop the board on the deck with a clatter.
“Break time,” he announced.
Tink looked at him, then back at the board, apparently coming to a decision over what was truly important to her. Licking her lips, she followed Mike to the front steps of the house. He handed her some lunch, and she sat next to him with her sandwich clutched in her little hands.
“This one extra good,” Tink told him, mustard leaking from her sandwich. For whatever reason, she had developed an obsession with trying mustard on all her food: eggs, chicken, toast, it didn’t matter. As she licked mustard off her fingers, Mike couldn’t help but smile at the cute picture before him.
“Thought you would like it.” Mike bit into his own sandwich, then took a drink of his soda. “Looks like we still have some work to do out here.”
“Maybe finish tomorrow,” Tink informed him, peeling the crust off her sandwich and using it to scoop up the extra mustard that had covered her plate. “Then figure out goggles.”
“That’s right. We need to get those back.” While chasing the haunted doll, Jenny, through the house last week, Mike and Tink had run across a Labyrinth and its resident Minotaur. Tink had lost her magical goggles while escaping and reminded Mike on a daily basis that they were super important to her. However, she also saw the wisdom in letting Mike heal from the wounds he had sustained from a fight with a witch and a fire elemental so had taken to repairing the damage that Sarah had done.
“Stupid cow-fuck,” Tink muttered under her breath. Her vocabulary was the result of a brain injury she had sustained decades past, but she was a genius when it came to repairing the house.
Mike gave Tink an affectionate squeeze. “We’ll find a way to make it right, I promise.”
They already had a basic map of the Labyrinth, though giant sections of it were incomplete. Now he needed to figure out how to convince the Minotaur to give her the goggles back. They finished their meals, and he took Tink inside to survey the collection of tools he had purchased. Tink was fascinated by the cordless drill, her eyes fixated on the spinning metal bit. It hadn’t been plugged in long, so disappointment registered in her face when the spinning slowed to a crawl.
“Give it some time,” Mike informed her, handing her the staple gun. “You can use this to reattach the trellis when it arrives. Do you want me to show you how—”
Tink pushed the stapler into the table, squeezing out several small staples into the old wood.
“Tink like this one,” she announced, firing staples through the air. “No more squished fingers.”
“You got it.” Mike picked up the spare hammer he had purchased for himself. All Tink’s tools were smaller than normal due to the size of her hands, making it difficult for him to help her without developing a cramp through the back
of his hand and wrist.
“We go work now!” Tink exclaimed, gathering up in her arms some of the hardware they would need. Mike followed her toward the front door, picking up all the stuff she dropped on the way. Stepping out onto the front porch, Mike nearly ran into Tink, who had come to a stop.
“Hello, Mr. Radley.” Wearing a plain dress with her hair twisted in a long braid was Elizabeth from the Historical Preservation Society. The last time Mike had seen her, she had been in the company of her daughter, Sarah. “I was wondering if I may have a word with you.”
“You can talk from there,” Mike told her, looking down at Tink, who skulked away down the porch. Elizabeth paid the goblin no attention. Mike hoped his guess was correct and that Elizabeth still couldn’t see her.
“It appears that you had some trouble,” Elizabeth said, walking along the yard. She stood next to the collapsed railing. “You do understand that there is a process for approving renovations, yes? To preserve the historical integrity of the house.”
“Considering that a member of your society caused this damage, I suggest we stop playing make believe.” Mike crossed his arms. “You and I both know that the value of this house has nothing to do with how old it is.”
“How did you do it?” Elizabeth took a step toward the porch. “An elemental, a succubus, and a witch. Any of those things would present a challenge, but somehow you surpassed them.”
“And I will continue to do so.” Mike waved his hand at the house. “I know that you’re not just after the magic in the home but the magical creatures inside. They have power and are tools to be used, right? Well, to me, they’re family. How many times have your people tried to bust in here? How many times have you failed? No matter what you send at me, I will never part with this place. No matter who you send, we will stop them,” he said evenly, hoping she couldn’t hear the nerves in his voice.
Elizabeth smiled. “You certainly are feeling bold, Mr. Radley. Not many men who enjoy living would dare speak to me in that manner.”
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