“From now on, you belong to me.” Still hard, he pushed himself back inside of her. Sperm leaked free in heavy globs, splashing on the floor. “I will come in you whenever I feel like it, wherever I feel like it.”
Sofia let out a moan, then went limp. Mike tossed the makeshift whip and then carefully sliced the last vines holding her up, lowering her gently to the ground. Cerulea had landed on Sofia’s ass, carefully lapping up anything she could find, her whole body pulsating with light. Sofia’s breaths came hard and fast, her eye closed. Mike carefully cut the rest of the vines, and Sofia let out a sigh once her arms and legs were free. She tossed off the last few vines and stood up so that Mike could help unwrap her. He grabbed ahold of one of the thickest vines and gave it a tug, causing Sofia to slowly spin in place, letting Mike free her once and for all. He tossed the vegetation to the floor, squatting down to pick up her magic sword.
“I believe this is yours,” he told her. Sofia accepted it from him quietly, tucking it into a small sheath on her pocket. They stood there in silence, Cerulea fluttering in lazy circles around them. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he could feel that something between them had shifted. Sofia straightened out her clothing, adjusting her blouse to minimize the amount of cleavage she was showing. The torn fabric was straining to contain her, and Mike wouldn’t have been surprised to see it split the rest of the way.
“What now?” Sofia asked.
“We’re waiting for Carmina. She is searching the Labyrinth right now, trying to find Abella and Tink. She can do it way faster than we can. Once we are all together again, we can figure out how to find and retrieve the goggles and then get the hell out of here. The witch on the front lawn must have made some progress by now, and I am worried what will happen if she breaks the geas.”
“A few things will happen,” Sofia answered. “Every protection on the house will end, for starters, sending wild magic out into the world to wreak havoc. The house will struggle to decide its own identity and will become a random maze of rooms and hallways. The creatures who still sleep will awaken and flee, and who knows what will become of them. Other magical creatures will sense the artifacts hidden here and become drawn to this place, and it will become a daily battle to keep them out.”
“You speak like you’ve seen it happen.”
“Did you think this house was the only one like it?” Sofia asked. “The architect built several homes such as this one over several centuries.” She frowned, staring at the floor. “They all used to connect to the Library. As far as I know, this home is the last of its kind.”
“There were other houses?” Mike shook his head. “That means there were other Caretakers, right?”
“Indeed, but I couldn’t tell you about them. When a house is destroyed, its secrets are lost. If the geas is broken, our memories of the former Caretakers will fade, and anyone who leaves your side will soon forget you even existed.” Sofia waved her hand dismissively. “That’s the working theory, anyway. It’s the only explanation for why I can’t remember the few Caretakers I worked with from other homes.”
“Shit.” Mike stared at the floor. If he didn’t hurry, not only would the others lose their home, but they would inevitably lose each other. Had the other houses had a family like his? What would happen to them all?
“Now I have a question.” Sofia moved close to one of the columns. “The trap I was caught in wasn’t actually a trap. I mean, it sort of was, but I’ve been stuck here for hours and nobody came to check on it. So either the trap maker is missing, or this room serves some other purpose.”
“What purpose would a room that restrains you even serve?”
Sofia grinned, blushing. “I can think of one.”
Mike laughed. “You think the Minotaur is getting his freak on with someone else in this room?”
“Maybe.” Sofia looked up into the dark of the ceiling, her eye narrowing. “What is that?”
“What is what?” Mike tried to follow her gaze, but it was all shadows to him.
“Here.” She held out a hand, and Mike handed her the dagger. Appraising one of the columns, she made a few strategic cuts. The unseen canopy above them shifted, and several vines drooped down. Mike moved out of the way, seeing that there was something tangled up in the vegetation. When it moved low enough, Sofia jumped up. Mike was surprised to see just how high she went—if she ever wanted to try out for the WNBA, he was sure they would have her. She grabbed hold of the substance in the canopy and pulled it free. It collided with Mike, and his whole world went dark.
“What the hell is this?” He was under a giant piece of fabric that felt leathery to the touch.
“Can’t tell.” Sofia found him in the dark and planted a small kiss on his jawline. She sliced a hole above them, and they stepped free of the unknown fabric.
“Holy fucking…fuck.” Mike stared in awe at their new discovery. It was huge, big enough to carpet the living room of the house. Wrinkled at the edges, it was covered in dark spots that were primarily focused along the middle. It had been up there for some time and held a slightly musky odor. Sofia handed him back his dagger, which he clutched tightly in his fist.
The fabric was a giant snakeskin.
“This is an interesting clock you have here.” Daryl was turning over the mimic in his hands, inspecting it carefully. “And you said Mr. Radley wanted you to fix it?”
“Yeah.” Dana sat next to Daryl in the back of the town car, which was on the freeway now. She was envious of the other drivers who passed them, oblivious to just how awful life could actually be. Also, the smell of the freeway was absolutely dreadful. It was a mixture of fuel, asphalt, and the body odor of everyone who drove by.
“Tell me everything about it that you know.” Daryl was inspecting a maker’s mark on the bottom of the clock. “And keep in mind I can tell when you are lying.”
“Why do you think the clock is so important?” Dana didn’t like being forced to cooperate with Daryl, even if it did mean being allowed to pass on. The mimic had been willing to help her, and she didn’t feel that that was info Daryl needed to have. “I mean, it looks like a clock.”
Daryl gave her a look, then opened a panel on the back. Inside, the gears slowly spun around each other. “He wanted you to fix it. Why?”
“I was delivering him a pizza when I spotted it inside the house. I thought it was really cool because I love how clocks work.” Or at least I did, she thought. Enthusiasm seemed to be another emotion lost to her as well.
“Hmm. I sense a bit of confusion in your words.” He hooked his fingers inside the clock. “You said you spent hours fixing this, but if I were to rip these out, it wouldn’t bother you.”
“Well, it would…I guess.”
Daryl laughed. “Consider this one of the side effects of being dead. You see, I needed your body and mind in perfect condition so as to not arouse suspicion. Take my driver, for instance. I just needed his body; his will is completely my own, and his soul is long gone, so there’s never any internal debate. I could tell him to hold on to a grenade, and he wouldn’t know any better. But you, you would take convincing. However, the one thing that takes the most energy to preserve is emotions. I allowed you to keep only a couple, the ones that apply to your dear, departed Alex. Love, despair, loss. I’m afraid that you won’t find much enjoyment in any of your old hobbies.”
“It’s not like I’ll have much time to pursue them,” Dana said. “I plan to give you what you want so you can give me what I want.”
“That is true. I may be many things, but I am definitely a man of my word.” Daryl handed her the clock. “But to clarify, let me tell you what could happen if you disobey me.”
Dana frowned. She wasn’t sure she needed to hear this.
“There are many stages of being undead. For example, my driver is just a meat suit that takes orders. You, however, are a different case. By leaving you with y
our mind, I am unable to exert willpower over you. As popular as it was to be a vampire a decade ago, why do you think nobody romanticized being a zombie?”
“Because zombies suck.” Dana looked back out the window. “In the movies, they are mindless brain eaters.”
“A popular trope, I can assure you. You see, your mind has control over your body—for now. You are, however, very dead, and as you begin to decay, you will find yourself with some uncontrollable urges. It’s like being on a diet and having to live in a house full of cookies. Eventually, you will snap and bite into anything you can catch.”
“Is that when I start eating brains?”
“Brains are best, to be fair. A person’s very life force resides in the mind. The heart would be a close second. Once your appetite is sated, the decay process will reverse itself, and you will find yourself as you are now. However, I can tell you that the process of murdering and eating another human does put quite a stain on your soul.” Daryl chuckled. “You also run into the issue of being unable to die.”
“I thought a bullet to the brain killed zombies.”
“At best, it severs the connection to the body. Have you ever heard of somebody who gets a brain injury and survives?”
“Like Phineas Gage, right?” An infamous case she had learned about in high school, a railroad worker who accidentally blew a hole through his skull with a railroad spike and lived.
“You got it. Your mind becomes a batch of scrambled eggs, and unless someone patches you up, you exist as a shattered version of yourself, eventually driven insane by your brain's inability to comprehend reality. An eternity passes you by until the universe is eventually eaten by Old Ones.” Daryl stared wistfully out the window. “And by then, your soul will belong to them.”
“Sounds awful.” Dana fought the scream of terror inside of her, the thought of an eternity rotting away. Apparently Daryl had left her with her sense of fear.
“That’s underselling it. Or perhaps you manage to survive until the last human dies, forced to wander the hellscape of Earth until the sun finally burns the place down. You have all sorts of options.”
“But I plan on helping you,” she said. “Because then you’ll let me move on.”
“You’ve got it.” Daryl’s phone rang. “Excuse me, I must take this.” Daryl turned away, sticking a Bluetooth headset in one ear. “Hello? Sebastien, please, you are shouting entirely too much. I am on my way there now. No, I don’t know why she won’t answer her phone. Kali does what she wants. Oh, tunnel ahead, gonna lose you.” Daryl touched a button on the headset, tucking it into his pocket. “Someone is being a drama queen.”
“Trouble at the office?”
Daryl ignored her, staring out the window. Dana focused her attention on the clock, running her fingers over its smooth features. This whole nightmare will be over soon, she told herself. She pictured Alex standing before her on the balcony, staring out toward the ocean, the sunlight making her skin glow.
“It’s go time.” Daryl leaned across Dana, opening her car door. She realized that they were parked at the end of Mike’s block. Stepping out, she held the clock tightly against her chest. Daryl walked behind her, casually assessing the neighborhood.
“Smells like a storm just rolled through here,” he said, staring at the sky. Dana smelled it, but she also smelled sand, smoke, and soil. Approaching the Radley house, she smiled at the sight of the roof over the large, stone walls. This place had always been cool to look at, a mysterious force all its own. They turned the corner and walked between the large stone lions perched atop the wall. It was where the driveway and walkway met up, then split apart. The house was quiet, but it looked like some repairs had recently been done.
“Keep going without me,” Daryl told her. “I’ll watch from here.”
Nodding, she walked up the driveway, the smell of smoke getting thicker. She was nearly at the door when her brain registered that a car had crashed into the front porch.
How had she not noticed that? Looking across the yard, she saw that a large amount of sand had been spread across the yard and part of the porch had collapsed. Was she really that out of it?
“Whoa.” Looking up, she saw a crack in the sky. There was also a large scorch mark in the middle of the lawn, the grass turned to ash. Turning around to face the door, she saw that the porch was soaking wet. What had happened here?
There was no time to think about it. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.
What would she say? Would she show him the clock? Convince him to invite her inside, maybe talk about the fact that she had fixed his pet mimic?
No answer. Walking along the porch, she peeked through the windows. Nobody was inside, and the furniture had been tossed about.
“Fuck,” she whispered. The clock in her hand chimed quietly. She grabbed the doorknob and let herself in. The inside of the house contained a plethora of smells, too many for her to decipher. She smelled water, sand, and several different musky odors that made her think of sex with Alex after a daylong hike. Walking through the front rooms, she heard several voices speaking to each other in the back. Approaching the back door, she saw a beautiful ornate fountain in the garden. Inside the fountain, a woman with flowing blue-and-green hair was addressing a few others.
One of the women was all white, from her hair to her feet. She was also floating a few inches off the ground. The next one looked ordinary—her black-and-red hair hung loosely around her shoulders.
The last one was a horse. Mouth open, Dana watched the centaur circle the back of the fountain. All four of them were speaking in hushed tones, something about the witch out front. Dana hadn’t seen anyone else, but she now felt like she had stepped into an alternate dimension. What was one more anomaly?
“Hold it.” The woman in the fountain held up her hands, then looked directly at Dana. “Come out. Don’t be afraid.”
Stunned, Dana stepped through the back door, the clock held tightly to her chest. The others watched her approach.
“Who are you?” the normal woman asked.
“I’m Dana.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off the centaur. “I’m looking for Mike.”
“How did you get in?” the same woman asked.
“I let myself in,” she said, nearing the fountain. Something about the woman in the fountain made her feel at peace. “I brought Mike’s clock back.” Standing there, she felt a slight pinch at her neck, like a bug had bitten her. Scratching it out of habit, she made eye contact with the red-and-black-haired woman who now stood next to her. “What?”
Everyone else exchanged looks.
“She should be asleep by now,” the woman said. “There’s no reason she should still be awake, unless…”
“I feel like I’m asleep.” Dana set the clock down on the edge of the fountain. “This all feels like a bad dream. I wish I could wake up from it.”
“Well, let’s see if we can help you wake up.” The woman in the fountain sat down on its edge and then took Dana’s hand in her own. “My name is Naia. I’m a nymph. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
To her own surprise, Dana told her everything.
FINDING THE CENTER
“…And that brings me to here.” Dana sat on the edge of the fountain, her chin in her hands. She wondered if she should feel more upset, regaling the others with her tale. Tears were beyond her ability. The strange numbness she was experiencing applied even more so to her eyes. She could no longer feel them, and it was taking effort to remember to blink. “So if I don’t deliver Mike or whatever special treasure the house hides, he will leave me like this.”
Naia, Cecilia, and Zel looked at each other. Zel had been examining Dana during her story, doing some simple tests. Dana still had her basic reflexes, but her pain sensors were completely gone. Zel struggled to gather blood samples, as Dana’s blood no longer flowed.
“I
’m curious,” Naia said. “What does the society think the house is hiding?”
“I don’t know.” Dana shrugged. “He kept mentioning a book with an apple on it. The guy is a dick, told me I would know it when I see it.”
“Oh, there are many powerful objects here, that’s a fact,” Naia said. “Mike hasn’t found anything special yet. The house has its secrets, and it does not give them up so quickly. There is something very special hidden here, but no Caretaker has been able to find it yet. It’s kind of like a quest.”
“For what? Is it that book Daryl wants?”
“Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. The home locks away our memories every time a new Caretaker comes along, and we don’t get them back until the new Caretaker discovers the magic on their own.” Naia stroked the clock on the ledge. I do remember this though. Haven’t seen it in a while.”
“Yeah, about that.” Dana picked up the clock. “What the fuck is this thing?”
“You are holding a mimic. They are extremely rare. To be honest, I thought it was dead.” Naia smiled. “If we all look away, it will change for us.”
Dana closed her eyes and heard a loud splash. When she opened her eyes, the clock was gone, replaced by a large, floating rubber duck. Naia was playfully scratching its head, and the duck flapped a pair of mechanical wings.
“Mimics are predatory lurkers,” Naia said. “They like to disguise themselves as ordinary objects, then attack when their prey is alone. Once their prey is at least blinded, they can assume their true form and devour their victim.”
“How come it didn’t attack me? It had the opportunity multiple times.”
Naia laughed. “This one is different. Mimics don’t actually need to eat to survive. They are all instinct, no forward thinking. This one, however, is very different, perhaps the smartest one in the world.”
“It told me that its heart was broken.”
“Yes. That is true. You see, this mimic was created a long time ago to act as a guardian for the house. A creature that can lie in wait and watch undetected is a powerful ally to have. When Emily found it, it was a chest with a small diary inside, a diary that was meant to start Emily on the path to the home’s true secret. After years of making no headway, she demanded answers. The mimic didn’t know anything, but Emily thought it was lying. In a fit of anger, she smashed out its gears with a hammer.” Naia sighed. “She held on to it, just in case it could ever be fixed. That was the beginning of the end for Emily. We all think of her fondly, but she did some terrible things in her last days. She was convinced that if she could unlock the secrets of the house, she would achieve the ability to alter the very fabric of reality.”
Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters Page 27