Not My Fantasy

by Sam Hall

  “We need to be protected; we need to be able to all go at the same time.”

  “No one left behind,” Tess said.

  “Though something that would waste these motherfuckers would be top of my list,” I said.

  “Got it,” Flea said with a nod. “A T-Rex that shoots lasers out of its eyes, packing machine guns and missile launchers.”

  “Yeah, I mean, we’d need someone to be manning those guns and–”

  Flea’s brown eyes met mine, “I’ve got this, Ash. Now get on with assigning everyone else.”

  “Tess, you’re on—”

  “Magic, magicians, magical gear. Consider me magic girl.”

  “OK, well then, Natty, you’re on physical combat. Any kind of kick-ass skill, be it hand to hand or weapon, we need it.”

  “No problems. I know just what we need to take these pricks down. It’ll be the Culling all over again.”

  “I still can’t believe you can read those,” I said as he helped himself to a pile of comics.

  “Universal language translator, all library books have it. Now. . . .” and he flicked his paw towards my pile of books.

  An hour later we were starting to develop a very concise list of books, films and other media that Tess would consume before going to bed. We wanted to flood her brain with as many possibly useful sources to try and activate the curse in a way that would get us out. She would re-read or view the most relevant sections, to prioritise some of the flood of information, just in case it responded to the last thing she read, not just what she’d read in the day. I’d torn up some slips of spare paper we found on the writing desk and we settled down to bookmarking like fiends. We were so deep in it, we all jumped when someone knocked on the door moments later.

  “W-T-F?” I hissed at Tess.

  “I know you are in there, ladies, so open the bloody door before I kick it in,” came a muffled Mellors.

  Natty got up, warily twisting the knob, only for Mellors and several grim-faced officers to burst into the room. He looked down at the mess of books everywhere, brow wrinkling, muzzle curling in disgust. “I won’t bother asking what you are doing, because right now you will cease. You are required in the dining hall.”

  “What for?” I said.

  “For the evening meal. His Highness is on the mend, no thanks to you, and wishes you present for some reason, so present you will be. Get to your feet.”

  “We need to dress, to get cleaned up . . .,” I said.

  “You will go as you are, you will be conciliatory and polite, or I’ll carve your heads from your shoulders myself. Have I made myself clear?”

  Tess jerked herself to her feet, wiping her hands on her grass-stained dress, “C’mon, let’s just go.”

  “Not your men. After the incident today with your man, none will be allowed in the presence of His Highness again. I advocated for the instant slaughter of all there, but His Highness said no. So, ladies, get your bizarrely smooth arses out this door and down into the main dining room right now.”

  Everyone was already seated by the time we arrived. Usually the men would rise as we entered the room, but instead, they fixed us with a steely stare. His Highness sat at the far end of the table, looking pale and drawn, his torso swathed in white bandages. He smiled when we entered, gesturing to the only seats empty, those either side of him, but it was more of a slow, sly thing than one of true welcome. Tess sat down, her eyes not moving from her plate whereas mine flicked around the room, wondering what the fuck was going to go down. “So, how did you ladies enjoy the day’s hunting?”

  The question hung heavily in the air, both of us looking at each other, trying to work out what to say and who would say it. Finally, Tess sighed, “I was repelled by it. The blood, the screaming . . .” She visibly shook, as if re-experiencing the horror. “I never . . . I never want to go through something like that again.”

  “I feel quite the same, at least on the last part,” the prince said, patting his bandages. “Now, as for tomorrow–”

  “What’s the point?” Tess snapped. The air in the room went very still, I could almost hear the whistle of twenty different intakes of breath happening simultaneously. “Why consult or confer with us? If I don’t like what you’ve planned, can I refuse to go? Can I do something else? Can I leave? We have to do what you want, or your thug there will rip out our throats with his teeth, so why bother telling us what you have in mind? We are slaves to your pleasure.” Tess’s words were spat like acid, destroying the already frosty mood in the room. I watched her take one long breath, then another, as if fighting to get enough oxygen.

  “My pleasure? Milady Pendragon, if it were all about my pleasure, you would be on your knees, under the table, sucking my dick until I came all over your pretty little mouth,” he leaned in closer, to reinforce his point, but I could see the tremor in his torso as he did so. “No? Not to your liking? Well, let’s hope tonight's menu is better suited.” He gestured to one of the footmen who opened the two large gilt and white doors, letting in a stream of servants. I’d steeled myself for tonight, knowing we were going to have to try and eat the poor bloody harpies’ breasts when served to us. I’d just prayed that it would be all unrecognisable once it had been through the kitchen. I was wrong.

  A white plate was placed in front of me and on it, a whole breast, minus the nipple was placed before me. The skin had been cooked to a golden brown, bubbling to form a crackling layer, similar to pork. Despite this, I could see the darker ring of the areole at the top. A red fruity smelling sauce had been swirled around it and a small red berry added to the top, a garnish to resemble a nipple. “Mm, smells delicious,” the prince said. “Tell Cookie she has outdone herself.” The footman nodded, sketching a quick bow before leaving the room.

  My gut roiled as the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic filled the room. I swallowed hard, grabbing the goblet of water in front of me and swigging it down, trying to wash the bile forming in my mouth. When I looked across at Tess, she was similarly ashen. “You’re not eating?” the prince asked me. I shook my head. “But you must.” I could hear the order of authority in his tone, so I picked up a bread roll and ripped off a small piece, bringing it to my lips. "No," he said, "you don't want to fill up on that and ruin your appetite. Now eat!"

  I picked up the cutlery in my shaking hands, moving my hands, my arms into the customary position, ready to cut it when Tess said, "I'm going to be sick!" One of the footmen grabbed an ice bucket from the centre of the table, dumping out its contents and placing it in front of her just in time.

  "Take it away," the prince said between gritted teeth as soon as she was finished. He waved a hand through the air, "You're almost enough to put me off my meal. Remove the ladies' plates. They are, apparently, not hungry." That wasn't true, we hadn't eaten since breakfast, but my stomach made it clear I'd be following Tess's example if I gave it a go. We were left to sit there, dully staring at the table as the furries ate. "Ah, now for the main course," the prince said, licking his lips. The footmen removed all the plates before resetting the table, then in it came.

  "Oh, God," I wasn't sure which of us had whimpered it, but it may well have been both of us simultaneously. In on a massive silver platter, so big that several footmen were required to carry it in, was a very red, very well-basted Knox. My hand went to my mouth, to stop the words, the cries and the disgust from pouring out as well as anything else I'd eaten today. He was positioned like a suckling pig, head and all, his whole body cooked and stretched out on the platter. Fruit garnishes surrounded him, his skin scored, so as to cook more crisply. I was on my feet before I even knew it.

  "Sit down!" the prince barked, but I just backed away, as far from the table as I could go. The officers began to turn, look to the prince for cues as to what to do if I bolted. "Sit down, both of you!"

  "No, no, no," Tess said, shaking her head, unable to look away.

  "You don't like hunting or roast pinky? Milady Pendragon, I regret to inform you I d
on't believe ours will be a love match. No, instead, I think I have quite a different use for you, for you and your sister. Cross, Regan, take the 'ladies' back to their room."

  "You do not wish their company tonight, sire?" Mellors asked, idly toying with his glass.

  "What I have planned can't be done on an empty stomach. Let us enjoy what Lady McKinnon's father has so thoughtfully gifted us, and then in the morning, I will enjoy his daughters."

  "And their men?"

  "Gump's man will need to be returned to him. We need that relationship, but the others can take the place of his comrade on the table tomorrow. Roast two nights in a row, gentleman, we should rejoice." Steely paws wrapped themselves around my arm, jerking me towards the exit. "Enjoy your last night together, ladies," the prince said, saluting us with his glass before reaching over and prying a finger from the corpse and chewing on it with enthusiasm.

  "Ash!" Tess gasped as we were escorted out.

  "Not now," I growled.

  "Say what you like, ladies," one of them said, “there's nothing worth hiding now. You'll be warming the prince's bed and then his cook fire when he's done with you." They both chuckled at that.

  "Though he may give us a turn. He does that sometimes," the other furry said. "It's a perverse pleasure, fucking a pinky. All that hairless skin, everything out in the open. Almost enough to give you the willies, almost.”

  39

  When we got back, Tess dove for the pile of recommendations and began reading like a fiend. I filled Natty and Flea in on the events before attacking my own. A grim silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of pages being turned. At some point in the night, after many hours, Tess stopped, rubbing at her eyes and groaned. "My eyes feel like they're hanging out of my head and I'm starting to skip words. Didn't you say Gabe brought drugs over with him? Would he have some speed?"

  "Seriously? You want to start experimenting with illicit drugs the night before we're all raped and killed?"

  "No, but there's no coffee and the words are all starting to blur together. What if I miss something? Only read the 'ands' and the 'buts' and none of the action."

  "That wouldn't be possible–"

  "What if I'm mixing up the words as I'm reading them and somehow stuff up the curse?"

  "I don't–"

  "Oh, my God–" she said and then stopped, fighting to force another word out as her chest began to heave.

  "Oh, Tess," I said as Flea moved to take her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest and he patted her shoulder as the tears came. "We can only do our best," I said. "It worked last night, let’s assume it'll work again."

  "But what if–?"

  "Don't ‘what if.’ Magic is at least part belief. We've just got to believe it will happen. We'll deal with ‘what if’ when it comes." I'd already scoped the windows out in the room. They were too high to shimmy down from, but they were plenty high enough for us to fling ourselves to our death from if we needed to. I sure as fuck wasn't going to warm the prince's bed again. "Let's quickly prioritise the books again, do one last quick skim read and try for some sleep. If we don't sleep, the curse won't work, OK?"

  We crawled into bed an hour or so later. As I curled myself around Gabe, I was struck by our predicament. I was facing down all possible horrors tomorrow, but I did so with people I loved. I reared up, looking down at Gabe's beautiful still form. We'd never really had a conversation about our relationship, about exclusivity, about what we meant to each other. We just always seemed to be around, except for work, coming together like two magnets pulled by an inexorable force. I stroked the side of his poor battered face and felt that tight ache inside my chest. I needed to; I needed to talk to him about this, us, all of it if I had a chance. Floating by wasn't going to cut it anymore, not when it could all get so easily ripped away.

  I slept lightly, waking for a moment to the sounds of Tess and Flea quietly making love. I smiled, any pleasure we could take today was worth it and then I rolled back into sleep.

  I woke up early in the morning, to find everyone standing around my bed, staring at me. "What?" I asked. "Didn't it work?" Everyone just stared, eyes wide.

  "Go and have a look in the mirror," Tess said finally. So, I did. I went into the bathroom, lit a candle and there in the soft flickering light was someone else altogether. I still had light-coloured hair, but now it was a dizzying array of shades, from platinum to ash blonde, instead of my usual mouse brown. It swished in a great fluid tail as I turned, left and right. Usually, at this time of day, my hair looked like a bloody rat's nest. I'd gone to bed in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Now I was dressed in an olive green tank, stretched tight over my curse-enhanced bust, a flak jacket over the top, a pair of army pants, body armour and big, black, shit-kicking boots. My hands went automatically to one of the top pockets of my jacket, unbuttoning it and pulling out something long and thick. A cigar? I thought as I put it to my lips. I didn't smoke, and it certainly wouldn't be cigars if I did, but I watched my hands pull a big metal lighter from my pocket and light it as if another person was performing the actions. A strange sense of calm settled in my chest as I inhaled. I should have been coughing and spluttering, but instead, I watched my reflection, eyes narrowed. I had no idea of what was going on here, but right now, I liked it.

  I was even more pleased when I walked into the bedroom. On every wall were artefacts, potions, wands and weapons–so many weapons. I moved automatically, sticking knives in my boots and strapping them to my arms and back, shoving pistols down the back of my pants, slinging the straps of rifles across my body along with a bandolier. Grenades bulged in my pockets. I turned around and grinned at the others, "We're going to waste these motherfuckers."

  "Yes, I can see that," Tess said with a nervous smile. "We need a plan, this is not what we were expecting. I thought we’d raise an army and instead, we got . . . stuff. Here, I was looking through what we have and I think this will be useful." She passed me a bottle of opalescent blue liquid. I cocked an eyebrow at it. "It's a healing potion, for Gabe."

  "Right, right," I said. "Why don't you give it to him and then we can get this show on the road? The prince's men will be here any minute to take the first of us. We need to be ready."

  "Ash, it's Gabe. You said you’d been painting him with that healing stuff for days. Don't you want to give it to him?" she asked.

  "Hmm? Yeah, I guess, but I need you guys armed and ready. We're gonna need to test some of the magic shit there. No idea what it will do and I don't want any surprises when we go into battle. Bad enough we have untried soldiers."

  "We're not . . . y'know what, it doesn't matter," Tess said, wandering over to the loot. I didn't move until I was satisfied they were all arming themselves with everything we had. They'd need it if we were going to make it. While their weapon tech was pathetic here, the prince's men didn't rely on anything mechanical to make the kills for them. They were all speed, accuracy and killing frenzy, which we severely lacked. I looked over my shoulder speculatively at the bottles on the wall. Maybe there were some berserker potions or something. I knelt beside the injured man, scanning his body for signs of illness. Had to be a head injury of some sort because while his body was a mess of yellowing bruises, there was nothing there that looked like it was enough to keep him unconscious. I held the cigar between my fingers and pulled the bottle's cork with my teeth. I gave the swirling liquid a quick sniff, smelt herbal or some shit and then pried the man's lips open, pouring a few drops in. I waited, looking for some sort of signs there was a change to his vitals, then shrugged when it was apparent there wasn't. I wrapped one arm around his chest, hauling him into a semi-sitting position to try and prevent choking and poured a bit more in, massaging his throat to encourage him to swallow.

  "We might need to leave him," I said. I watched the shocked expressions spread through the group without comment. Soldiers never liked to abandon one of their own, but we were severely outnumbered, if not outgunned, so reality needed to be f
aced sooner rather than later.

  "We have other items here, other stuff that may help him."

  "And I'm not saying we shouldn't try it, but in the end, the mission is to get the most people free and clear as possible."

  "The mission is to get everyone home, safe and sound!" Tess snapped.

  I took a deep drag from the cigar, then exhaled a cloud of smoke. "So, the mission is to get everyone home, safe and sound," I said. “So let's start testing what we have here. I guess we should be watching for drug interactions, though how the hell you do that with this shit," I picked up a swirling-green crystal ball, "I have no idea."

  "Natty, do you want to give me a hand?" Tess asked, shooting the cervine creature a look. I got there was some kind of subtext here, but right now, I needed to get my eye on the prize.

  "Flea, they said they would be here for one of us girls early. It's about 0700 right now, so they have to be along soon. They're going to underestimate us due to their inherent prejudices against humans and the fact they're coming for women, so I reckon we let them in, disarm and immobilise them, then neutralise," I said.

  "Right, so what are you thinking, these?" He held up a pair of handcuffs.

  I shook my head and picked up a pair of pistols, screwing on the silencers that came with them. "These. We don't have time to be soft-hearted. These are the enemy, people; we need to take them out and reduce the threat load. Anything we can do to throw the odds in our favour is above board. We don’t have time for the Marquess of Queensbury rules."

  “We shouldn’t be killing people,” Flea said, though his face was impassive, his eyes strangely watchful.

  “Then we die. There’s no plan I can come up with that doesn’t end with some of the hostiles with a bullet in their brains!”

  “You’re sticking with her,” Flea said to Tess. “We’re not going to get separated, but if we do, you stick with her. You’re the only one she’s listening to.”