Pike’s dragon-monster heaved itself forward, rampaging through the middle of Sheol, jaws set at a questing angle.
Several monsters confronted the dragon-monster with metal clubs and swords, and the dragon-monster batted a few aside, ripped a few to pieces, and cut down several more with a hailstorm of molten metal that it spat at them like bullets from a machine gun.
The molten metal ripped through the bulky chest of one monster, and then tore off the jaw of another. Several bystanders ducked and ran for cover as the dragon-monster spewed bolts of fire in every direction.
Pike moved behind the beast, shadowed by her harpies, firing at anything that moved. She continued grinning with malice as she watched the bystanders of Sheol suffer under her wrath and burn in destruction from the monstrous power of one of their own.
The residents of Sheol ran from Pike as her kill-squad fanned out.
Unlike humans, harpies were blessed with special attributes that served them well when fighting. They were born with extra toes that made them especially fleet of foot, and their short stature and hyperawareness made them challenging targets for Damiana and anyone else who dared to confront them.
There was movement peripherally, and Pike caught sight of Damiana and some of the other monster residents firing at the harpies from all directions. The bullets snapped and bounced off the ground, but the harpies seemed to sense the rounds before they were even fired, slipping right between them, dodging the strafe of bullets.
Charging forward in the wake of her dragon-monster, which moved faster than a creature of its size should be able to, Pike wheeled around a metal shack only to see a monster resident with a crude flame thrower. Pike grabbed one of her harpies and used the creature as a living shield.
The monster fired up the flame thrower, a rope of liquid fire splashing the harpy who bursts into flames. The harpy stumbled forward like a mobile Roman candle, and Pike used the confusion to bring a pistol around and fire a shot that punched a hole through the attacking monster resident’s chest, detonating the fuel reservoir in the flame thrower. A tremendous explosion ensued which sent a fireball spiraling up forty feet into the air.
Fifty yards beyond Pike’s position, roughly smack dab in the middle of Sheol, stood Jer and the rest of his crew: Damiana, Dakota, Max, and the newly in-tow Ambrose. They were frozen in place, looking back, listening to the echo of screams and gunshots, watching the fireball ascend and billow over Sheol and its inhabitants.
“We need to hurry!” Jer shouted.
“Understatement of the century, boss,” Dakota quipped.
Jer glimpsed a blurred form from the corner of his eye and realized it was too late. One of Pike’s harpies charged at them with a pair of swords in hand, cutting its way through the middle of a section of squatter tents.
With a wave of his hand, Jer signaled for everyone to run in the opposite direction.
Max led the way as they dashed between tents and shacks, following a dirt path that wound toward the far side of Sheol.
A series of explosions rocked the space as wild-eyed monster residents ran for cover. Some were shot down mid-sprint by Pike’s harpies, while others were atomized by rockets that screamed through the air and then airburst and blasted apart the ground, leaving six-foot craters.
Jer and the others managed to get far enough away and avoid being cut down. They ducked between a series of pale gray columns that supported a kind of lodge house as bullets ripped through the air.
Jer covered his head as rounds ricocheted off the columns, striking some of the nearby monster residents who collapsed to the ground, their heads and bodies punctured and pulsing fountains of red.
“Fuck!” Jer shouted, cursing himself, worried that he was somehow responsible for Pike and her kill-squad infiltrating Sheol.
There wasn’t time to worry yet, though, or feel guilt. There would be time enough for remorse and reparations. What they needed now was to escape Pike’s rampage of death before getting the chance to feel regret and look back at what they should have done differently.
Caught up in the fog of battle and banners of smoke birthed by the explosions, Jer lost sight of the others. He stumbled into a filthy tent and caught sight of a form seated at the rear in a wooden chair.
It was an older monster with long, white horns that were chipped and deformed. A bubble of blood lingered on the monster’s lips.
Jer could see that the stranger had been hit by one of the bouncing bullets. It entered just above his right eye and blew out the back of his head.
The monster wheezed unexpectedly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. One eye opened, and he lifted his hands to offer something to Jer—A partially rusted machine-pistol. With his last breath, the monster handed over the weapon to Jer who grasped it. Cradled in his hands, the gun felt warm and oily with a faint current emanating from it. He studied the gun and then held it, feeling the weight of the weapon.
Bringing it around, he stepped backward to exit the tent only to see one of Pike’s harpies leering at him from the tent’s opening, holding a pistol.
“Drop the gun,” Jer ordered.
The harpy grinned. “You first, soldier,” the harpy sneered.
Two seconds of silence stretched between them.
Pure reflex—that was the only thing that saved Jer’s life, because before the harpy could get off a shot, Jer brought the machine-pistol up. His finger tugged back on the trigger.
Bullets sprayed in every direction, and one of them ripped off the top of the harpy’s head. The beast whipsawed back out of the tent from another burst out of Jer’s gun as he stood there, shuddering inwardly, choking on jets of smoke from his new weapon.
“I’m not a soldier, asshole,” Jer said, staring down at the harpy’s gory body. “I’m a doctor.”
He reeled outside and that was when he saw the unthinkable. Damiana and Pike’s dragon faced off not more than twenty yards away.
Damiana had just fired out the remaining bullets on her gun which bounced off the dragon-monster’s armor-plated exterior.
Her gun clicked over empty. She sighed. Not fucking good, she thought.
Damiana set her jaw in a look of grim determination and opened her mouth. She trilled an old monster death-march song, one taught to her by an uncle, and then snarled at the dragon, “Come on, big boy!”
She screamed and erupted forward, her claws out. She was going to tear into the dragon with her five-inch long bony protuberances, sharp as the edge on a knife, if she had to. She swung her claws so violently that they made the air sing.
The dragon-monster, unimpressed, swooped down on her, spitting curds of molten metal that whizzed past her head like a swarm of angry bees. The beast thundered forward in what seemed like slow-motion.
In a flourish, Damiana executed a drift-slide under the dragon, reaching up with her claws as the dragon-monster vaulted over her. She waited for the right moment. If she struck too soon, her maneuver wouldn’t work. And then…an opening…
The dragon-monster, confused, disoriented, and unable to find Damian, exposed itself for an instant as it wretched up to get a higher view of the battlefield. The white of its belly, a four-inch spot on the creature’s underside that nature hadn’t seen fit to shield with a slab of scales, became visible.
Damiana threw a hand at the belly. Four of her claws pierced the dragon-monster and its soft, bulbous flesh. A cord of blood jetted from the wound. The dragon-monster panicked; flailed; then flopped onto its side, writhing like a fish on the deck of a boat.
Sensing an opportunity, Damiana threw herself at the dragon-monster, readying to strike a death blow, when the thing regained its footing.
“Fuck!” Damiana shouted. “You don’t scare easy, do you, big fella?”
The dragon-monster flicked an arm that hit Damiana like a baseball bat, sending her flying back through the air. She bounced on the ground hard and rolled over, the breath stolen from her lungs. Clutching her midsection, she groaned.
The dragon was hurt but still deadlier than anything else in Sheol, if not the world. Even though the creature was wounded, the monstrosity moved impressively in full flight, recovering rapidly, tearing toward Damiana before skidding to a stop.
Damiana pushed herself up as the dragon-monster opened its mouth and took aim, ready to shoot her down with a flurry of molten metal when—Gunshots rang out. A burst of small-arms fire filled the air.
Damiana was shocked to see Jer firing at Pike’s fiend with an unusual weapon. He was holding his stethoscope up and launching tiny darts out of the ends and directly at the enemy.
The bullets stitched the dragon-monster’s backside, and even though they didn’t do any real damage, the unexpected blast bought Damiana some time. She rocketed to the right, slashing over a verge that ran between a latticework of shacks, working to circle back to Jer. She screamed for Jer to follow her voice and soon the pair were together again.
“What the fuck do you call that back there?!” Damiana asked.
“Saving your ass,” Jer replied, some heat in his voice.
Damiana grunted.
“I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” Jer said as the two flung themselves into a dead run.
“Where are the others?” Damiana asked.
Before Jer could respond, a sound built overhead. The searing sound of a rocket-propelled grenade roared toward them.
Damiana shoved Jer out of the way.
A concussive blast churned the ground and lifted Jer off his feet. He flew through the side of a tent and slammed into a wooden wall. Stars filled his eyes and his ears rang, but Jer was able to lever himself up. He turned and spotted a small pod of monster children, their faces scarified to runes and strange words carved in their cheeks, hiding in a hole in the ground, barely covered by a section of metal scrap.
Jer placed a finger to his mouth, making sure they stayed quiet and out of sight, and then took off, shouting, trying to draw off whoever fired the rocket. Outside, he stumbled through the bedlam as gunfire echoed and explosions reverberated. Somewhere in the distance he heard the roar of the dragon and the screams of monsters and humans.
Pivoting, he spotted the other end of Sheol, the entrance to another tunnel, and ran for it. Heart in his throat, he caught sight of a form in the distance. Dakota! She was by herself, waving her arms.
Jer ran to her, lungs burning, legs feeling like jelly.
“What happened to you?” Dakota asked.
“A dragon attacked,” Jer said.
Dakota’s eyes widened.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“There’s no time to explain. Where are Max, Ambrose and—”
Dakota shook her head. “We were separated in the attack,” she said. “I was hoping they were with you.”
Jer urged Dakota back into the tunnel. His hope was that Pike and her kill-squad were only after them at the moment and would let up on the rest of Sheol once his crew had escaped. Inside the tunnel, they spotted Damiana and Max.
“Where’s Ambrose?” Jer asked.
“Was hoping he was with you,” Damiana said.
A growl drew their attention to the tunnel entrance.
They turned back and looked, only to see that Pike and her lone remaining harpy, along with her dragon-monster had caught up to them. Jer and the others were cornered. If the dragon unleashed fire now, they’d be burnt alive.
Out of nowhere, a blast rang out from behind Jer. A rocket-propelled grenade slammed into the tunnel roof near the entrance. Pieces of the walls and ceiling crumbled, saving Jer, Dakota, Max, and Damiana from Pike and her kill-squad but trapping them inside with whoever fired the blast.
“Who fired that?” Jer asked.
When no one responded, Jer wheeled around and looked at the source of the rocket-propelled grenade that had put debris between them and Pike’s kill-squad. At the feet of three heavily armed monsters with stun-guns, Damiana, Ambrose, and Max lay motionless.
The armed monsters of unknown origin trained their weapons on Jer. There wasn’t enough time for him to react. The beasts opened fire with projectiles that stunned him, and darkness draped over his eyes.
16
Nightmare Scape
Moments later, the sound of wobbly wheels rumbling over dirt and rocks reached Jer’s ears as he began to wake from being stunned. When he opened his eyes, he glanced to the side and could see that three monsters were pushing three separate gurneys though a dusty corridor lit by washed-out tube lighting.
When he looked up, he thought he saw Evangeline’s piercing and alluring feline eyes staring down at him. He blinked, squinted, and looked again. The monster pushing his gurney wasn’t her at all. A burly bear of a beastnik looked straight ahead as he continued taking Jer deeper into the underground.
With his eyes focused on the cavernous underground ceiling, Jer tried to wrest from the thick straps that restrained him. The gurney came to a stop, and he glanced to the left as a large syringe pierced a vein in his neck, easing him into a haze.
When his eyelids popped open later, a rush of water smashed him backward, blinding his vision temporarily. The restraints, gurney, and monsters pushing him were no longer present, and he was tumbling through a dark tunnel.
He grasped for purchase, but the cavernous walls were too slick. His body continued tumbling through the underground tunnel as the water overtook him without mercy. He bumped against stones and gasped for air, struggling to get above the rushing water as it carried him with relentless fury.
Up ahead, a bright light shone into the tunnel, giving him hope. When he got closer, though, he saw that the source of the light came from a massive open cavern with a sharp drop-off at the edge.
His hands reached out for a hold one more time, but he fell just short, and his body was propelled over the cliff and out into the opening. A hundred feet of space rushed up from below as he descended.
Jer plunged into a massive underground river below, smacking hard and getting swooped under. With all his strength, he pushed up to the surface, sucking in air.
Bobbing up and down above the water surface, he could breathe, but the sides of the river were too far away to reach. He was helpless to fight back against the current, and the waves grew stronger, making his gasps for air more difficult as his body grew weaker.
The river came to a fork up ahead. The path right shone brighter, which worried him. What if was another drop-off, only without a river below to stop his fall? The path left was pitch-black.
He plunged under the water since there was less resistance from the waves on the surface. His legs kicked hard, and his arms thrust forward as he pushed hard to veer left. His body bumped hard off the large rock that divided the two paths, and he flung left.
The current grew rockier for a moment, then began to slow. Another several yards, and the water grew eerily still.
Jer’s feet skidded across the bottom as he emerged into a shallower area. He waded to the side and tried to climb up the rocky walls, but they were water-slicked and smooth. There was no way out.
A moment later, the water rippled behind him. Jer wheeled around, and his eyes widened with surprise as he spotted Evangeline wading toward him.
“Evangeline?” Jer asked. “Is it really you? You’re not a dream, are you?”
She laughed, smiled, and stood up erect, revealing her supple and firm breasts and fully naked body.
“What makes you think you’re not in my dream?” Evangeline asked.
“We have to get out of here,” Jer said as his eyes darted around, searching for an escape.
Evangeline tilted her neck to the side as she reached him. She streaked her claws along the side of his face, sending chills down his back. “Why the rush?” she asked. “It’s so rare that we get a moment.”
The water rippled off to the right, and another monster girl appeared.
Damiana emerged from beneath the water’s surface and strode toward them. She was completely nude as well.
“Sh
e has a point,” Damiana said. “You should take your own advice, doc, and let the stress of it all go away.”
“We don’t have time right now,” Jer argued. “Lives are at stake this very moment. If we don’t do somet—”
“Shh,” Evangeline said and caressed his chest. “Relax. Let go. You’re safe here.”
Damiana stretched her legs up above the water and stroked Jer’s back with her hooves. She then rubbed her firm breasts against his back, massaging his shoulder blades.
Evangeline pressed her breasts to Jer’s chest and slid up and down his body.
Jer knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist much longer as Evangeline and Damiana slid their luscious bodies along his flesh, ripping his clothes off as they began licking his skin from the front and back.
Damiana tugged at Jer’s hair and pulled hard, which caused him to moan as he tried to fight the temptation. She wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed, arousing him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Jer said in a soft voice, barely able to fight it anymore. “This can’t be real. The real you is in danger.”
“Then why are you having such a hard time resisting?” Damiana asked and licked her lips from behind.
Evangeline stroked Jer’s cheeks and then his neck. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, tugging at them gently for a moment before ripping a handful out and grinning.
“That actually feels good,” Jer admitted as the fever dream began to feel more real than anything he’d ever felt before. The sensations all felt overwhelmingly more powerful than he was used to. He knew better, though. He knew that the reason the things of dreams and nightmares had a tendency to feel more real was because the mind was completely focused on the sensory experience without any external sensory distractions. Knowing wasn’t enough to fight it, though. His body began to throb as he became more aroused. His senses were taking over, and he was about to lose himself to the sirens pretending to be his loves.
Monster M.D.: A Monster Girl Harem Mystery Thriller (Monster M.D. ) Page 14
