Sisters of the Mist

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Sisters of the Mist Page 28

by Eric Wilder


  “Because they’re not.”

  “Then what the hell are they?” he asked.

  “Mercenary trolls, giants, and ogres,” she said. “Don’t even look at those dudes sideways. They’re so mean they’d kill their own mothers.”

  “How many are there?” he asked.

  “Don’t know for sure. At least two dozen.”

  Sister Gertrude’s guards did look dangerous. Though not as big as the Swamp Monsters, they all bore spears and swords and looked as if they knew how to use them. J.P. pinched Guinevere’s ass.

  “Let’s go find that beautiful nun. You up for a threesome?”

  “Now you’re speaking my language, baby,” she said. “You had me believing for a minute I’d drawn a dud for the biggest party of the year.”

  “Don’t you worry sweet thing. I got big plans for you tonight.”

  Guinevere and J.P. negotiated their way through the wild party. An armed troll stopped them at the base of the stairs. He let them pass when Guinevere showed him the doubloon.

  Up the stairs, the giant chandeliers were missing, replaced by candles that left the halls in smoke, flickering shadows on the walls, general dimness, and the hallway chilly. Noise from the party below had died away before they reached the third floor of the castle.

  “Sister Gertrude keeps all her sex slaves on this floor. Desire is her favorite. When customers aren’t drooling all over her, the old bat’s usually in her cell using and abusing the one she considers her prize possession.”

  “I’ve never seen Sister Gertrude. What does she look like?

  “Big, and I don’t mean fat. Probably seven feet tall.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No, I’m not. The only thing short about Sister Gertrude is her temper. She backed down a troll once. Lifted him off the ground by the neck, and then squeezed his jugular till his eyes bulged.”

  “She killed a troll?”

  “Threw him against the wall and cracked his head open, though she stopped short of killing him.”

  “Sounds pretty mean,” J.P. said.

  “Mean, big, and ugly, though she pays well. No one that works for her ever wants to leave.” She giggled. “She’s also a witch, and a harpy, and would probably turn us into toads if we ever tried.”

  “I thought she was a Catholic nun. I also have it on good authority that she’s human.”

  “My ass! She’s no more human than the trolls and ogres, and no more a nun that I am. Nun of the Devil, maybe. She likes mocking the church. She’s not religious, I promise you.”

  “What the hell’s a harpy?”

  “You won’t believe me if I tell you,” she said.

  “Try me.”

  “When Sister Gertrude angers, she transforms into her real persona.”

  “Which is?”

  “A monster with the face of a woman and body of a raptor, with talons so sharp and deadly, she can claw you to pieces with them while she pecks out your eyes with her beak.”

  “You’re shittin’ me!”

  “Don’t ever piss her off, or you’ll find out for yourself.”

  “I met Bat Girl at High Rollers,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Bat Girl and I are besties. She’ll be at the party when she gets off work.”

  “She told me,” J.P. said.

  “Maybe we can all have a good time together.”

  “Maybe.”

  Guinevere stopped in front of a wooden door with a tiny viewing slot. “This is Desire’s room.”

  “You got a key?” he asked.

  She smiled and showed him the key to the cell on the gold chain she wore around her neck.

  “Master key for all the cells,” she said. “Sister Gertrude and I are the only two people that have one.”

  The heavy wooden door pushed open with a groan, light from a dozen candles scattered around the room greeting them when they entered. The only furniture was a bed and J.P. could see someone was in it. Touching her shoulder, he shook it gently.

  “Desire, is that you?”

  When she turned over and stared into his eyes, her appearance startled him. J.P. had never met the young woman, though had seen her picture many times on various magazine covers. She was widely considered one of the most beautiful women in the world.

  He stepped back in shock, barely able to hear her when she asked, “Do I know you?”

  “I’m J.P.,” he said. “A friend of Wyatt’s.”

  “Wyatt?”

  “Wyatt Thomas.”

  Desire extended her hand. “Please come closer. I can’t see you.”

  J.P. took her hand and bent close enough to her that she could see his face. As Wyatt had said, her hair had gone completely white. Her cheeks were gaunt, skin pale. There were vampire marks on her neck. Her bare arms were raw from recent bindings. Her voice was weak, and he had a hard time hearing her, even when he drew close. One of the candles in a holder on the wall sputtered and went out.

  “Wyatt, is that you?” she asked.

  “I’m J.P.,” he said.

  She sank back into her pillow, tears appearing in her eyes.

  “I thought for a moment . . .”

  Guinevere was watching their exchange intently. J.P. stood and grabbed her hand.

  “Change of plans,” he said. “You got me to thinking about you, me, Desire, and Bat Girl. Let’s wait till she gets here. All this smoke is getting to me, and right now, I need a breath of fresh air. Can you take me outside for a bit?”

  “Guests aren’t allowed outside the castle walls,” Guinevere said.

  “You told me my wish was your command. Nothing I’d like better right now than to get into that slinky little dress of yours right in front of the main gate and do it with a bunch of those ugly trolls and ogres watching us.”

  Guinevere’s smile reappeared. “That does sound kinky. I’ve wanted to have sex with a troll since I arrived here.”

  “Hell yeah,” he said. “If there’s a guard at the front gate, I’ll invite him to join us.” There was a cord, whips, and other sexual paraphernalia lying on the floor beside the bed. Grabbing a rope, he said, “Lead the way.”

  “There’s a secret passage,” she said. “We can get to the front door through it without having to make our way back through the crowds. It’s dark so we’ll need candles.”

  They grabbed burning candles, finding the secret passage behind a tapestry hanging on the wall in the hallway. A mouse scurried under their feet when they entered the darkened passageway.

  “It’s narrow, damp, and slippery,” she said. “So watch your step. You’ll be no fun with a broken leg.”

  The tunnel smelled of must, mold, and candle smoke. The air was stale. Something sounding like a high-pitched scream echoed through the dark passageway.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “Bats,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

  “I’ll bet you will,” he said, pinching her ass again.

  “Better watch it,” she said. “Or I may have to have you right here in the dark on this damp stone floor.”

  “If we don’t get to where we’re going pretty soon, I’ll take you up on it.”

  The tunnel became steeper as it spiraled downward. At least there were steps. They finally reached level ground and Guinevere began searching for the exit.

  “It’s been a while since the last time I took this tunnel. Can’t quite remember where the exit door lever is.”

  J.P. was getting antsy when a door in the wall slid open. They were quickly outside the castle, and it was dark.

  “We girls rarely come out here,” she said. “When we do, we usually go through the castle’s main entrance.”

  “Where is that?” he asked.

  “Around the corner. The barracks and mess hall for the soldiers are beyond the main entrance.”

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “You taking medicine?”

  “Just wondering how much long
er before midnight.”

  “Another hour or so,” she said. “You’ll know because there’s always a big fireworks display.”

  “Then we better get on with it. Where are the guards located?”

  “Those turrets on either side of the front gate to the castle,” she said.

  “How many men?”

  “Don’t know,” she said. “Why?”

  “One of them is all we need. I don’t want to invite their whole crew.”

  “Volmak, the officer in command, is a friend of mine,” she said. “He and I’ve been planning to get naked together for a while. I’ll see if he’ll send the others inside for a break.”

  “You think he will?”

  “Baby, he may not be human, but he’s definitely a male. If I can get him alone for a minute or so, I’ll have him eating out of my hands.”

  “You’re getting me excited thinking about you getting him excited,” J.P. said.

  J.P. stayed in the shadows as she ascended the stairs to one of the turrets. He needed a weapon. The only thing he could find was an oak barrel stave. Like a baseball bat, he swung it once to gauge its heft. Satisfied that he could do some damage with it, he hid it behind his back.

  Before many minutes had passed, four soldiers descended from the turrets. They didn’t see him in the shadows, pressed against the castle wall, as they disappeared around the corner. Guinevere soon exited the turret, leading Volmak, a big troll by the hand. He met them with a big smile.

  “Pleased to meet you. You speak English?”

  Volmak stood several inches taller than J.P. and looked as solid as the walls of the castle. His frowning expression never changed when he grunted and nodded that he understood.

  “Good, since I’m the one paying for this fantasy, I want you to strip this pretty girl naked, tie her arms and legs with this rope, and then put her over your knees. Think you can handle it?”

  Volmak grunted before ripping the emerald dress right off Guinevere’s body. She was ecstatic when he grabbed her braided hair, holding her with it as he secured the rope around her arms and legs.

  “Stuff something in her mouth so she can’t squeal, and then give that pretty little bottom of hers a good spanking.”

  Volmak grunted as he bent her over his knees and began spanking her. J.P. was behind them. Pulling the barrel stave from the shadows, he used it to take a full swing at the troll’s big head.

  Chapter 38

  When J.P. crashed the barrel stave into the back of Volmak’s head, he quickly realized the blow had barely fazed him. He nailed him again when he turned, this time swinging with his legs set, and with the full weight of his body. When the troll didn’t fall, J.P. thought he was in trouble. He wasn’t.

  Volmak’s eyes closed and he toppled over backward, onto the ground. Guinevere struggled as J.P. retrieved the key to Desire’s room from her neck, patting her bare butt as he did.

  “Sweet thing, leaving you here is just about the hardest thing I ever done, though right now I got bigger fish to fry.”

  After a quick look around to see if anyone had witnessed the incident, he left Guinevere bound on the ground as he sprinted to the front gate, found the big crank that opened it and began turning it furiously. When the drawbridge hit the ground on the other side of the moat with a thud, he ran across it, a candle in his hand, and began shouting.

  “Rory, Barzoom, the gate’s open. Hurry up!”

  As he gazed into the darkness, the clouds parted as a full, yellow, Halloween moon began illuminating the plain between the castle and the trees. Figures began to emerge from the shadows. It was Rory, and the Swamp Monsters followed closely by Wyatt, Abba, Slick, and Lucky.

  Rory was in full Scottish battle regalia, Aila, his big broadsword, in his hand.

  “Whoa,” he said. “They can’t go in there like that. Where are their weapons?”

  “They fight with staffs,” Rory said

  The Swamp Monsters were dancing up and down, pounding their wooden staffs into the dirt, and making high-pitched unearthly sounds as they stoked themselves for the ensuing battle.

  “Sister Gertrude has her own army. I promise you they ain’t gonna drop their weapons and run,” J.P. said.

  “Contain your fears, or they will fell you before the first blow is ever struck. I am ready to fight to the death, and so are these fine lads.”

  “All right then,” J.P. said. “Let’s get across the moat before someone raises the drawbridge and closes the gate on us.”

  The thundering herd followed J.P. into the castle’s courtyard.

  “The entrance to the castle is around the corner,” J.P. said. “There’s a big costume party on the ground floor, most of the participants too drunk or drugged to put up any resistance. Sister Gertrude has about two dozen armed trolls and ogres that you’ll have to fight your way through before you can get into the basement.”

  “How will we find it?” Rory asked.

  “There’s a staircase that winds up to the upper floors, and down to the basement. There are guards at the stairs. You can’t miss it. What about the dogs?”

  “Slick and Lucky will come with me,” Rory said. “I have a feeling deep in my soul that I will need them before midnight arrives.”

  J.P. knelt down and gave Lucky a hug. Lucky licked him and wagged his tail when he said, “Take care of that big Scot, you hear?”

  Rory shook his hand, and then turned to the Swamp Monsters, issuing a Scottish war cry. Barzoom and the others began their eerie wailing, and then followed Rory and the two dogs to the castle’s entrance.

  “Do you know where to find Desire?” I asked.

  “There’s a secret passage we can take to the cell where they keep her. Wyatt . . .”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Don’t flip out because you ain’t gonna recognize her.”

  “What have they done?” Abba asked.

  “Everything except take her very soul,” J.P. said. “And I’m not so sure they haven’t accomplished that as well.”

  “Can we get in once we get there?” Abba asked.

  “I got a key to the door,” J.P. said. “We’ll have to find some candles first because the passageway is pitch dark.”

  We found candles in holders on the wall in the hallway leading to the passage. A secret door cloaked behind a tapestry opened after J.P. had manipulated a hidden lever.

  “There are bats and rats in this passageway. Try not to freak totally out,” J.P. said.

  “I hear them,” Abba said. “This place is creepy as hell.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” J.P. said.

  Abba’s assessment of the secret passageway was right on point. It was dark, dank, and musty. Bats flew past our heads, Abba’s hands held high to keep them from getting tangled in her hair.

  “Thank God!” she said when we’d finally exited into the flickering light of the third-floor hallway.

  She and J.P. entered after opening the door to Desire’s cell. I waited in the hallway, not knowing after hearing J.P.’s description if I could take seeing the woman that had once filled the large void in my heart. J.P. and Abba were at her bedside, and my feet finally began to move.

  I wondered if Desire would recognize me. She sat up in bed, dispelling those doubts when she clasped her willowy arms around my neck. Like a frightened child embracing their mother, she held on, as if ending the grip would be her death.

  When I stroked my hand through her wild hair, I wondered what horrors she’d endured, and if she would ever be the same again. That was assuming we would succeed in rescuing her. I had only a moment to ponder my thoughts as Sister Gertrude walked through the door.

  The huge woman dressed in nun’s garb glared at me. When she pointed and spoke, I realized it was an expression of pure hatred.

  “You!” she said. “Release my precious doll.”

  As Desire tightened her grip, I felt every rib in her wasted body. She couldn’t stop trembling as her tears dampened my neck. Sister Gert
rude’s face contorted into an even uglier frown. When she bowed her head and raised her arms, her habit disappeared in a puff of smoke. For only a moment, she stood naked until her human body began to transform.

  Unable to believe their eyes, Abba and J.P. backed against the wall as Sister Gertrude’s arms became wings, her face, and body morphing into the beak and talons of a giant raptor. With Desire’s arms still clutching my neck, I could barely move as the giant bird with the face of a monstrous woman shrieked and attacked. I had but a split second to respond to the creature’s assault.

  Out of nowhere, Exethelon appeared in my hand. As the enraged harpy charged toward Desire and me, the magic dagger flew from my grasp, burying itself deeply into her heart.

  ***

  Sister Gertrude’s Swiss Army met Rory and the Swamp Monsters with instant resistance as they entered the castle. Guests began screaming, pulling on their clothes and trying to flee. The well-trained cadre of trolls, giants, and ogres had no such inclination, raising their weapons and attacking the intruders.

  As the ballroom rapidly became a noisy battleground, the masquerade party dissolved into a chaotic scene of mass hysteria. It was quickly apparent the under-armed Swamp Monsters were at an extreme disadvantage.

  After what seemed an eternity of intense combat, Rory, the dogs, and the Swamp Monsters were no closer to the entrance to the basement than when the battle had begun. Slick and Lucky crouched with their fangs bared, protecting Rory as he continued to swing his big sword.

  Even armed with only broad staffs, the overmatched Swamp Monsters were holding their own against the fierce attack of trolls and ogres. Bodies lay bleeding on the castle floor, including two of the Swamp Monsters. It wasn’t going well when the second wave of Swiss Army soldiers came streaming through the front door of the castle. Barzoom had fought his way to Rory’s side.

  “Holy Mother of Christ!” Rory said. “It is almost midnight, and I have to make it to the basement. Can you open a path for me?”

  Barzoom nodded and began swinging his broad staff with redoubled intensity. Trolls and ogres dropped in his wake as he began clearing a path to the stairs leading to the basement. Rory was by his side, the two dogs guarding their rear. Against greater odds, they somehow made it to the stairs. Rory clutched Barzoom’s big wrist before descending the circular stairway into the castle’s basement.

 

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