Necessarily Evil- Apocalypse

by Shad N Freud

  ∞∞∞

  Inside the mansion, the sound of power tools being used could be heard from the training room, with a small sign affixed to the doors. The sign warned that inside the room was a splash zone and to wear a poncho to avoid getting viscera in hair, clothing, and unmentionable places.

  Marcel poked his head in the door and nearly retched. The floor, walls, and even the ceiling were covered in purple ichor as the woman strapped to the table lay there limply, Carl smoking a cigarette as he constructed a wheel to break the bitch on while he waited for the room to do its job putting the bitch back together. “Well, you’re certainly nothing if not thorough, Carl,” Cenere drawled from Marcel’s shoulder. “How many times-”

  “Thirty-seven. I think she’s getting a little numb to the treatment she’s getting. I’m taking a break while she regenerates. Why did you stop?” Carl asked as he lifted the gore-spattered safety goggles from his eyes, the only green patch of skin showing through the coating of blood and ick that liberally coated the half-orc from head to toe.

  Marcel hooked a thumb over at Zeke and Krang, the lizard looking a little queasy at the sheer volume of filth coating everything in the room. “They felt the darklight eddies in the negative energy subplane from outside the mansion. You’ve clearly been doing a real number on the bitch. Want to tag out for a bit, grab a shower?”

  Carl paused, rubbed his chin, and looked over at Jin. “I don’t suppose you’ve got an alchemy lab in this place, do you?” Carl gestured for everyone to leave the room and left the unconscious Demon Prince to heal on her own. After he closed the door, Jin looked at Carl and nodded. A door under the stairs formed with a nameplate that said “Alchemy Lab.” They made their way into the room, and Jin looked over the ingredients.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Polymorph potion. That way, she thinks I’m the only one torturing her.” He looked over at the other Inquisitors. “One of you has to do the final deed. I can’t, because of the Baneflame. So, should we draw straws to see-”

  “I’ll do it.” Marcel said with fire in his eye. “I call dibs on finishing the bitch off. She robbed you of your family, and me of my grandchild and daughter in law. I never got to meet them, so I figure this is the next best thing. I’ll burn her.”

  Jin nodded as he began gathering ingredients and started the flame under the small pewter cauldron in the transmutation circle engraved into the table. He donned safety goggles as well as a chemical apron, respirator, and a pair of silk gloves with embroidered runes of chemical resistance and heat negation. He began opening jars and pulling out small amounts of various substances as the group watched, using a mortar and pestle to grind a piece of dried dryad bark while the purified water in the cauldron came to a boil. He poured the ground dryad powder into a small ceramic bowl, then proceeded to pull out a salamander scale, and grabbed a small mithril hammer to to break the hard, rock-like piece of skin into crumbles, which he added to the water, raising the acidity while also giving the potion some stability. The powdered dryad caused the mixture to fizz slightly as he unstoppered a jar of roc feather fragments, pulled out two medium sized pieces, and dropped them directly into the mixture. The combination flared out momentarily before Jin reduced the flame to a simmer. He then began slicing up a chameleon’s tail, grinding up displacer beast skin, and chopping up a small cuttlefish.

  “Right. I need a hair, blood, skin, and saliva sample from you, Carl. Since you’re related, I won’t need the usual semen sample,” Jin said as he added the tail slices and stirred counter clockwise twenty-three and a half times, then a quarter stir clockwise before raising the fire level again. He paused and nodded as he grabbed a jar full of beaks from myna birds and dropped one into the cauldron. Camilla watched him work and pointed out that he’d need a drop or two of mandrake essence to ensure the potion would fade within an hour. Jin nodded his thanks and added the essence after the skin.

  “Luckily for us, we were a bit spoiled for choice as to who got to torture the bitch.” Jin smiled as he looked over at Carl. “I really get why you love your mansion. Summoning a room into existence just because it would make your life easier? Jameson sure was a lazy fucker in life, I’m sure, but I can’t really talk shit about the results. Anyways,” Jin said, sliding the remaining viscera off the cutting board into the potion, “it’s a good thing at least one of us has studied temporal incursion theory. So long as the perception of events remains the same, the actual hand doing them? Doesn’t matter. So, Marcel here takes a swig of this swill and burns the bitch. Easy peasy.”

  He opened a jar full of Turritopsis dohrnii, also known as Immortal Jellyfish, polyps and used an eyedropper to extract a few of the jellies, ever so carefully dropping in exactly five of the little guys. He set the cauldron to simmer and removed the protective gear as Camilla slipped past him, gave the potion a sniff, then nodded before adding a dash of salt and pepper.

  Carl looked down at Jin as he grabbed a scalpel, pair of forceps, a syringe, and several vials. “Now, about those samples?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m…ungh, worried…ab-boot…CARL!” Camilla moaned loudly, squeezing Cenere’s head between her thighs as she held onto his horns for dear life. The tielfling glared up at his girlfriend’s face from his position between her thighs, his eyes positively smoldering. Camilla grinned sheepishly as she scratched the base of her skull. “Sorry, lover. Ah know, ah know, na shop talk while foolin' around, but…Carl’s been goin' whole hog on this demon cunt for three days now. 'N' he’s bin getting progressively mair unhinged. Granted, Jin did make enough polymorph potion base that we could all take a turn or two but Carl’s been doin' this a' by his lonesome. It can’t be healthy fur his mental health.”

  Cenere rested his chin on his palm, leaning on an elbow by her left thigh. “Cammy, dear. Sweetie. My little Scotch egg. Carl’s mental health really can’t get much worse, all things considered. This is no doubt cathartic for him. I mean, she did that to his family because of what he’s doing right now. I say we let him go nuts for the next couple days. Besides, do you want to be the one to talk to him about it? He’s a bit too fond of that scalpel if you ask me…”

  ∞∞∞

  Down in the training room, Carl stared intently into Ink’s terrified eyes as he ran the scalpel dipped in verrucotoxin up her right nostril, slicing through the skin and cartilage, and skirting the nasal bones as he slowly cut her nose off with the tainted knife. “You ever hear the one about the dog that was born without a nose? He smelled terrible. You, on the other hand, smell like shit, you filthy bitch.”

  Ink’s eyes twitched in agony, both because of the bad joke and the excruciating pain from the toxin. Carl laughed at the bad joke as he set the scalpel down and picked up the blow torch and pliers. “I’m thinking this tooth necklace is a little light on molars. Open wide, or I’m burning your eyes out again.”

  ∞∞∞

  “…but that’s nothing compared to his new hobby, making necklaces out of teeth,” Cenere said as he leaned forward and captured his lady’s lips. “Besides, at least he’s only torturing a demon. And, it’ll be good practice for when he gets to Hell and gets a job tormenting the damned with something other than his jokes.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about, though. He seems tae enjoy th' torturing a bit too much. Ah mean, I’m all for destroying mah enemies but when is enough, enough? Ah don’t wantae end up unleashing a serial killer on th' world when we get back tae th' the present.”

  Cenere sighed and ran his fingers through his silky blonde hair. “Cammy dear, can we worry about this later? I’m losing wood here.”

  Camilla pouted cutely and crossed her arms under her bare breasts. Cenere smirked, then began tickling her ribs and moved upward as he got himself into a good position, all the while struggling to keep on top while Camilla writhed in laughter under his feather-light fingertips before grabbing her wrists, and pushing her back onto the bed, kissing her hungrily as he thrust himself
inside her.

  ∞∞∞

  Downstairs, a very different kind of writhing was happening in the training room as Carl throttled the demon with her own intestines. Her eyes bulged out of her skull as she asphyxiated, the light in her eyes going out as she died once again. Carl let go, then walked over to the wash basin, and cleaned himself up. He looked over at the body and rolled his eyes as she coughed and began breathing again. “Resilient little bitch, aren’t you? I guess this is partly my fault, after all. I could use a shower and a snack, so I think I’ll let you stew for a bit.” He grabbed the scalpel again and dipped it in the toxin.

  “What in the Gray is wrong with you, you psychopath? What did I ever do to you?”

  Carl smirked infuriatingly as he grabbed her face and looked her in the eye as he used his scalpel to cut off her ears, eliciting yet another bout of screaming. “Ah ah! That would be telling. Besides, I’d hate to ruin the surprise for you. Trust me, you deserve this. This and much more.”

  Carl tossed the ears into the small bin that was filling up with vivisected tissues. Jin had asked Carl to save the bits he was cutting off, as they made for wonderful reagents in alchemy. The blood added a bit of juice to some of the enchantments against chaos the little dragon was weaving for the bracelets he planned on giving everyone in the group to help ward off demons.

  Carl smiled down at the Demon Prince as she whimpered in pain. “Oh, come now! We’ve got another two days or so before I send you back to the cesspool that spawned you! Don’t tell me your throat’s going hoarse already! I haven’t even started the rough stuff yet!” Carl shook his head as he tsk-tsk’d, grabbing battery cables and attaching them to a car battery. He then put the negative terminal on one wrist restraint and held the positive over the right hand for a moment.

  She tried to shake her head, tried to wrest her hand free from the restraints. Carl just laughed, tears sliding down his face in mirth as he attached the positive cable and watched her twitch as electricity coursed through her body, forcing her muscles to spasm uncontrollably. If she’d had anything left in her digestive tract, she likely would have voided her bowels.

  “Be good now! I’m going to go take a shower, burn these clothes, grab a bite to eat…and then, we can get back to business,” Carl said cheerfully as he turned out the light and closed the door, locking it behind him. He strolled up the stairs with a bit of pep in his step and tried to ignore the squelching noise from his shoes. He paused as entered his room, stripping off the sodden clothes and dropping them in a pile on the floor before setting them ablaze with his hand. He then wreathed his entire body with his Baneflame, incinerating the ichor and gore that clung to his skin like a bad suit.

  Afterwards, he stepped into his shower, turning the water to full blast and washing the weariness away as the hot water cascaded down his body. He pondered the way he’d been acting of late, giving in to his bloodlust in such a one-sided way. He conceded that if she had come for him directly, he might have been willing to go easy on her and just have given her the business end of a disruptor round for her troubles. But the little bitch had…

  Carl sobbed as the hot water ran down his back, grateful that the room was soundproofed.

  ∞∞∞

  Sachi and Krang slept fitfully. In Krang’s case, it was due to the fact that he could essentially hear the demon below screaming. In Sachi’s case…well, she’d been having trouble sleeping again. She blamed it on nightmares and Krang wasn’t really willing to pry into her affairs. He did worry about her though, as any dedicated boy-toy would in his position. He sat up as he felt a sharp spike in the negative energy subplane and stared at Sachi as she writhed in her sleep, her face scrunched up in terror.

  He gently shook her awake and stared into her eyes as she looked around the room in fear. “Shhh, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

  Sachi nodded then reached over and grabbed the tall glass of water on her nightstand, the icy water soothing her dry throat. She stared into the beautiful, yet clearly synthetic eyes of her beau with a pained smile. She’d hoped the nightmares were over once she’d left the present, but they seemed to be getting worse, despite her brief respite. Krang’s concern caused her troubled expression to fade and she smiled sweetly at him as she got up to take a shower, her lithe, nude form’s silhouette easy to distinguish from the gloom as she led her man to the bathroom for a late-night shower. And, not having a single faulty circuit in his body, he happily followed.

  An hour later, he gently lay her back on the bed and she fell asleep almost immediately, a satisfied smile on her face as Krang likewise slipped off to sleep.

  ∞∞∞

  Downstairs, Jin was gently snoring as he lay on a pile of gold coins in his gnomish form. A regular bed just didn’t feel as comfortable anymore, no matter how nice the bed. It was a cliché, and he’d be the first to admit it, but it just simply felt better to lay in wealth than comfort. It’s rumored that الموت في الرمال (Almawt fi Alramal), the blue dragon that owned several of the oilfields in Kuwait, slept on large stacks of bearer bonds rather than gold coins. As yet, no one had been foolish enough to verify whether that rumor held water or not, since the last idiot to wake him up ended up being the first course of his breakfast. Jin rolled over, scattering some of the coins in the process.

  ∞∞∞

  In the library, Marcel perused the archaic texts gathering dust. He paused when his finger touched a book bound in demon hide and he pulled the book out, seeing that the book had no title and no external graphic. There was nothing of the sort except for one medium sized wrinkle on the front cover and a clasp that looked like teeth. He stared at the book curiously for a long moment, gently stroking the cover.

  Suddenly, the “wrinkle” opened, revealing a violet eye with the pupil slit like a vipers. The teeth separated and the book opened. The title page was written in some unknown script, and Marcel’s brand flared for a moment, indicating a strong chaotic presence. He dropped the book, which began laughing as the title’s ink shifted, taking the form of Jameson’s face.

  “My my, but somebody found my book!” The book laughed again, and the chaotic signature subsided. “And an Inquisitor no less? Gracious me. Say, what year is it? And, who had the temerity to steal the prototype from old man Wong? Granted, he hasn’t really entered, well, ever…but…wait a moment, something feels a bit off.”

  Marcel cautiously picked the book up and set it on one of the reading tables. The book’s pages flipped back and forth. “Huh. All of my pages are intact, so there’s that. I can feel the Mansion is inhabited by…wait…I feel quite a few gestalts in the mansion…I also feel…is that McG tech? Interesting. And…oh my, that’s a Demon Prince. And…ooh, that half-orc is really giving her the business.”

  Marcel stared at the book, noting the faint mist of darklight rising from the pages. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight…you’re a living record, so to speak, of how Jameson made this mansion?”

  The book closed itself and the eye stared at him half-lidded. “I suppose you could say that. I’m Jameson’s personal notes on the enchantments that created the mansions. This one, the prototype, was what he patterned the others on. All the basic functions, including the training room, were copied directly off of this model. The only things the other mansions have that I don’t are the marble golems he had planned to make, the sentient mechanical butler, Jeeves, and the various food production facilities, like the fisheries, grain and vegetable farms, and the automated livestock pens. Not to mention the time dilation chamber, affectionately referred to as the 'cold storage' room.”

  Something clicked in Marcel’s head. Cold storage. “Could you elaborate on that last one?”

  The book sighed, its singular eye rolling as the book sucked its teeth peevishly. “The ‘cold storage’ room is a massive two-hundred by two hundred by two hundred cubic foot box to store perishable items in. Anything put into the box is subjected to an extreme range of time dilation, from 1:10000 on the
far end-”

  “1:10000?!” Marcel’s eyes bugged out of his skull as he stared at the book. “As in…”

  “Put something in for a day, and it ages twenty-seven point four years. Or, vice versa. Keep something in there for a century, and the object is only subjected to about four days’ worth of wait time. While in there, the passage of time is either shrunk to a fraction of its normal speed, or flies by. And, best of all, the cold storage room is an alternate microplane, isolated from this world.”

  Marcel’s mouth quirked upward into a smile. “Oh, Carl is going to love this when I show him. Let’s keep this between us for now, yeah?”

  The book’s spine hunched upward in an approximation of a shrug. “Suit yourself. Jameson always did like dramatic reveals, after all.”

  ∞∞∞

  Ink screamed as Carl and Marcel played tic-tac-toe on her skin with branding irons. She was currently spread-eagle on a rack of sorts, held tightly in place with meat hooks through her wrists and ankles. So far, according to the tally branded into her ass, Carl was ahead by three. Neither really cared that much about the score, however, as they were simply enjoying burning the bitch with red hot irons. The regeneration field was suspended to keep the brands from fading between turns. Carl pulled an X brand out of the small fire they were using to keep the irons hot and pondered his next move.

  The door to the training room opened, and Zeke looked over at the pair. “Breakfast.”

  The pair nodded and Marcel ignited his hand in Hellfire before he grabbed the red hot iron ball gag from the small fire and shoved it into Ink’s mouth, the sound of her screams muffled as the iron ball seared the inside of her mouth, the chain fastened in place around her head, causing her flesh to sizzle as it cooked, the smell of burnt bacon filling the room.

  Upstairs, Cenere struggled to sit up as the marathon of rough sex he and Camilla had indulged themselves in the night before left both of them looking utterly haggard. It took them ten minutes to get dressed and another ten to stagger down the stairs, their legs like spaghetti noodles as they fought valiantly against gravity with their exhausted legs. Sachi and Krang, on the other hand, were sitting at the table, both with rather sunny dispositions as they dug into their morning meals. Camilla sat down gingerly as Cenere gently pushed her chair in, then took his seat next to her.