Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

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Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection Page 34

by C. M. Stunich


  A box, I was in a box.

  My body shook uncontrollably as my mind tried to work through the puzzle of my whereabouts. If only I could see...

  The curtains that surround me slowly lifted following the sound of a loud buzzer, revealing bright, flashing lights, brighter than those that penetrated the darkening veil. Fear paralyzed me.

  With the curtains fully raised, my vision was completely blinded by the flashing colored spotlights that moved and spun over my trapped body. I felt as if I had been kidnapped and drugged on acid. Not that I would know what acid felt like, but I had a faint idea it would have been something like this. The hairs on my neck raised and long, tangled brown hair clung to my damp skin as the voice boomed over the intercom again. I willed myself to open my eyes, desperate to see what surrounded me.

  “She’s awake, ladies and gentlemen. Now, have you ever seen such a sight as her?” More jeers and whooping sounded, reverberating within the glass box I had somehow found myself in. My blood ran cold as my vision cleared somewhat, faint shapes appearing below me. A few moments later and I could see, barely, and I screamed when I saw I was trapped in some sort of glass cage, suspended high above a stage before an audience of strange people as far as my tearing eyes could see.

  Panic overtook reason as I collapsed into myself, sliding into the farthest corner of my cage as the contents of my stomach emptied before me. The cheering grew even louder, and laughter sounded over the intercom. “How precious, the freak looks to be afraid of us! What a fun turn of events.” The cheering was replaced by laughter, and the sound hung over me like a hot, suffocating blanket.

  “This can’t be real, this can’t be real,” I repeated to myself, my voice trembling as the hoarse words escaped my lips. “This can’t be real.”

  “All too real, sweetheart,” the unfamiliar voice boomed. “And oh boy are we going to have fun with this one tonight. Now, how about we meet our contestants?”

  A soft cry escaped my lips at the overwhelming sound of excited screaming that threatened to burst my eardrums. I tucked my face into my knees and wrapped my hands around my legs, doing my best to control my breathing. Each breath came in ragged gasps as my mind ached, desperately trying to think through this. Where was I? How had I gotten here?

  “Let’s have a round of applause for our three lucky contestants!”

  More screams, more lights…

  Adrenaline took over as the scene beneath me cleared, and I bounded up onto my feet, slamming my fists against the glass cage. “What the hell is happening? Who are you? Someone tell me why I’m here!” Tears streamed down my face as I screamed, the sound of my own voice echoing, trapped within my suffocating cell. No one even noticed I had moved.

  “In the red chair, let me introduce you to the tall, strong, dreamy Muffin!” The crowd went wild as a large, sculpted man sauntered out onto the stage. His movements were smooth, feline. I stared at the back of him as he made his way to the red velvet throne at the front of the large platform over which I hung. My eyes were fixated in an obsessive, terrified sort of way. There was something off about the man with the strange name, something I couldn’t quite place. He took his seat facing the audience, blocked from my view.

  I cursed under my breath, bashing my closed fists against the glass surface. It was no use. Everyone was too preoccupied with what was happening below me to pay me any mind. I spat my frustration, wiping burning tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Anger quickly replaced fear as my shoulders began to shake.

  “Sitting in the blue chair, it is my pleasure to introduce the dark, the brooding, a don’t-mess-with-me kind of guy, Fluffy!”

  I pressed the heels of my hands over my ears, trying to block out the noise. I knelt down and squeezed my eyes shut again, whimpering over and over. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real…”

  Louder cheers still sounded, blaring through my failed attempt at protecting my hearing. The sounds were tenfold in the glass box, and my eyes streamed as they opened, my gaze falling on a strong yet slim form gliding across the stage. “Last but not least, we have the suave, the so-very-cool Puh C. Cat!”

  My eyes followed him as he took his own seat on the yellow chair, my mind struggling to figure out what was so strange, so unreal about them. I was about to open my mouth and yell for my freedom once more when the same loud buzzer sounded yet again, and the moving spotlights fixed on a spot beneath me.

  I stared, frozen in place as the lights dimmed and the crowd quieted, the loud, chaotic music slowing to an even beat, building slowly, expectantly. Before I had a chance to breathe, a massive, fur-covered creature pranced onto the stage, landing in the center of the spotlights. Arms outstretched, he waved to the audience.

  No, not a creature, a man. But…

  He bowed low, and his top hap toppled off, revealing a large, furry, pointy-eared cat head.

  I screamed and crawled backward, stumbling over myself as I curled back into a ball in the far corner of my cage. “Somebody help me!” This was lunacy. This couldn’t be real.

  I pinched myself, and it burned, telling me this was all-too-real. “Please! Anybody!” No help came. The music picked up, and the three chairs spun around to the sound of that same, haunting buzzer. A cry escaped my lips as three eager-looking cat heads stared up at me, their eyes fixed on my own. They looked hungry, excited... Angry.

  Before I even had the chance to fully digest their expressions, the lights fell on me, blinding me entirely and burning my skin with the heat that radiated through the glass walls. A loud metal crushing sound echoed around me, and the crowd gasped, sending my eyelids fluttering open wide. My gaze followed those of the crowd, down through the glass bottom of my cage, landing on a massive, dark pit beneath me.

  Sharp metal spikes lined each edge of the opening, hovering over a deep, cave-like space. Staring fixed at the terrifying pit beneath me, I caught a slight movement. A second later a loud road sounded, and three massive lion-like creatures appeared, spitting blood and snapping at the airspace beneath where I hung.

  I screamed a blood-curdling sound that numbed my ears. I didn’t care. I screamed until my voice ran hoarse. Surely somebody would see me, somebody would come to my aid? I must have been kidnapped into some kind of circus. But what kind of circus would do this? My fingers then arrived at a seam in the glass floor of my cage. I gulped and followed the seam with my hands, my eyes finally coming to the thin, bronze hinges that held the floor closed in place. Another scream spilled from me, another wave of pounding adrenaline through my veins.

  I cried and pleaded and slammed my back firmly against the side of the box, pushing myself as far away from the potential opening that ran along the center of the only thing separating me from the pit of hungry predators below.

  Chanting boomed over the music, slow and steady at first, but then grew increasingly louder. I struggled to hear the words through the pounding in my ears, but soon the words came to me. “Drop the witch,” they shouted. “Drop the witch!”

  I gasped, flinging myself against the glass wall closest to the audience. I slammed my fists against it again and again until my hands grew blue with bruises. “I’m not a witch! Let me out of here! This is some mistake!” The cage swung as I hit the glass over and over, my stomach queasy from the motion, though I had nothing left in it to throw up.

  “Drop the witch!” The host was chanting along with them, as were the three contestants. I banged against the wall, crying, screaming, pleading. Why was everybody letting them do this to me? Where were the police?

  When it became clear no help was coming, I slunk down to my knees, convulsing with fear, though growing increasingly numb by the second. I was trapped. There was no way out but down. “I’m not a witch,” I cried to myself, my voice barely a whisper above the booming noise of the crowd.

  The music slowed as the game began, the host sending question after question to the contestants, each correct answer dropping me inches lower toward the massive, hungry cats. F
or hours this went on, it seemed, until finally I had no tears and no fight left. I sat there, stunned, nothing left to do than to accept my fate. My terrifying, confusing, chaotic fate. I still had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there. Though staring at the three contestants who grew closer and closer with every passing question, my mind began to tug with familiarity.

  The lights flashed brighter as they all fell to the pleased-looking tabby-headed man in the yellow chair. The audience hushed, and I held my breath. The grinning host announced it was the final question. I didn’t know what these creatures had against me, but he looked so determined to see me fall, I had to look away. Even my own heartbeat stilled as he awaited the final question that either kicked him from the show or granted my ultimate demise.

  The host cleared his throat. “Contestant number three. Mr. Puh C. Cat. Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ve ever been,” he drawled, that smooth, unearthly voice of his sending shivers up my numb spine. A single tear dripped down my cheek, falling onto the glass floor beneath me. The liquid rolled down along the surface and fell between the crack in the center, falling down into the pit of death that awaited me any second now. I clenched my teeth together and waited.

  “Let’s hear it, Gerard,” the creature replied.

  Wait. I knew that name. A flash of recognition spurred in my mind. My eyes shot open. “Wait!”

  The host Gerard cleared his throat. “Okay then. Contestant number three. How many witches does it take to burn down a juice shop?”

  The audience gasped, their breaths held as they awaited his response. I sat up higher on my knees, my eyes burning. “Wait!” I cried. “Please! No!”

  “How many witches does it take to burn down a juice shop?” A sly grin tugged at the contestant’s full lips. He pulled his top lip back, revealing two very long, very sharp feline teeth. His voice then crawled over me, slinking over my skin like wet silk at his final word. “One.”

  A scream so loud, so piercing and unfamiliar filled my ears as I fell, down and down, followed by a dead, penetrating silence.

  2

  I waited for the crushing blow that would surely meet my bones, but it never came. I lay there, suspended in what felt like clouds, holding my breath, waiting. But when my breathing calmed, and my heart rate slowed, I realized I had somehow escaped the fall. There was no pit, there were no hungry, murderous lions. Only a pillowy softness that caressed my skin.

  Slowly I opened my eyes, one at a time. The room was dark, small flecks of light flickering in from a distant curtain. Dark, like the one around the glass cage, but different. This one fluttered in the breeze, outside air billowing through, casting light and shadow across the room. I blinked, my eyes tired and my body sore. A soft laugh escaped my lips. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

  I uncurled my clenched muscles and lay back in the soft bed, the cushions and blankets a welcome respite from the hard glass cage of my nightmare. I sucked in a deep, calming breath and blew it out slowly, relishing in the light breeze that cascaded over my sprawled form. “I knew it wasn’t real.”

  I rolled over onto my side, my eyes lingering on the curtain. Staring for a long moment, I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was out of place. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, rubbing them slowly as I forced myself to relax. I had grown so used to nightmares, lately, you’d think I would have gotten better at recovering from them in the morning. Forcing myself upright, I kicked off the heavy blankets. The air was warm, heavy against my skin. Even the morning breeze did nothing to cool me down.

  I sighed and kicked off the comforter completely, slinking out of bed as I stretched my stiff muscles. Looking around the dark room, I felt strangely alone. More alone than was usual, for some reason. An empty picture frame sat on the small wooden table near the bed, no picture inside. I stared at it, wondering what had happened to the happy photo of myself and my fiancé taken the day he proposed. I cracked my neck, groaning at the loud sounds of my joints popping, as I stood next to the bed, wondering.

  My brain was foggy, but something at the back of my mind told me I had something important I needed to do. Something that demanded my focus. I pinched my nose and tried to think through the smoke-addled confusion that lingered in my confused brain.

  My phone beeped on the side table, and I reached for it, a trickle of sweat falling down the side of my face. I wiped it away with the back of my hand, my eyes scanning the screen on my phone. Still no word about Agatha’s whereabouts. Will let you know if we get any word at the station. It was from Bert - Officer Fitzgerald from the Salem Police. I cursed under my breath. Agatha, how could I forget? I kicked off my pajamas and pulled on the closest clothes I could find. Turning toward the mirror on the far wall, I paused. The shirt had been a gift from Gerard. I tugged at it awkwardly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “Get a grip, Price.”

  A newspaper sat on the side table, and I reached for it, spreading the large paper out on the bed as my eyes skimmed the headline. Well-known Salem Business Owner, Agatha Bentley, Missing for Days. Foul Play Suspected. I gulped as I read and re-read the headline, my heart sinking. My landlady. My infuriating yet strangely kind landlady. Missing. I hung my head back, breathing out a slow, controlled breath. No wonder I was having nightmares.

  Heat blazed against my skin, and I pulled open the curtain, letting the bright morning light flood the room. I slid open the window as far as it would go, leaning out into the fresh Oregon air. I watched cars pass by, the city of Portland bright in the distance. It felt good to be back. I then paused. Back? That was a weird thought.

  Shaking out my arms, I blew out a sigh. My ears still rang with the haunting sound of the game show from my nightmare. “Just a dream,” I told myself. “Get over it. Stop being weird.” I rolled up the hem of my baggy pants, the heat in the room suddenly suffocating. Another bead of sweat dripped from my forehead, and my eyes fell to the closed door on the far side of the room. Light glowed through, though it was deep and red and flickering. Heat radiated from the surface. It took a long moment to realize what that meant. “Oh no, no, no...”

  I ran to the door, swinging it open wildly. Flames licked the walls, consuming the far hallway. “Holy cannoli!” I ran back to the window and looked down, but my apartment was on the top floor of an eight-story building. There was no way I’d survive the jump. I turned to grab my phone, to call the fire department, but it was gone. I blinked, running around the bed, but it had disappeared. I swore under my breath and grabbed a pillow. I had no time to rummage through my things. Holding the pillow to my mouth, I crouched low and made my way into the hall and down the stairs, as far from the flames as I could safely get.

  I managed to get through my apartment, just escaping the growing fire that grew from my kitchen. The fire had burned through the apartment walls and into the main hallway, and I only narrowly missed the lick of flames that traveled down the far hall into the neighboring units. I held my breath and ran down the hall, slamming my fists against each apartment door as I passed, warning my neighbors. My hands ached, and when I looked down at them, each was black and blue. “What the…?” But I had no time to worry about my damn sore hands. I raced through the hall and pulled up the massive window that led to the fire escape but froze as I heard tiny mewls from behind me. I clung to the window frame, halfway to the safety of the outdoor stairs. The sound echoes again, and I cursed under my breath, pulling my body back inside into the heat. I couldn’t leave the stupid cats.

  “Where are you?” I called out, hunching down as low to the ground as I could as I made my way back down the smoke-filled hall. Flames licked the walls, consuming the floral print wallpaper I had grown to hate. The cats called louder this time, the sound seemingly from inside my neighboring unit. I slammed my fists against the door, swearing loudly at the searing pain that splintered up my bruised knuckles. I couldn’t help but stare at the yellow-blue bruises that covered my hands. “What the actual heck?”

  The
crash of the adjacent blackened structure pulled me back to reality, and I fought against my burning skin that screamed for me to run to safety. I nearly listened, but the sounds of the poor animals held me in place. When no one answered the door, I felt for the doorknob. It burned, and I withdrew my hand with a yelp and lifted my leg to use the fabric of my pants to protect my hand from the searing metal handle. Luckily it was unlocked, and just as the ceiling overhead collapsed, I flung myself in through the doorway and out of the way of the crumbling, burning roof.

  Smoke quickly blinded me, filling my eyes, my nose, everything. Tears streamed down my face as my eyes stung. It was all-consuming. I gagged and coughed, collapsing onto my hands and knees to escape the suffocating air. I had made a huge, huge mistake coming back for the cats. If we didn’t all get out of this alive, I would go down as the dumbest woman in all of Oregon.

  Three loud meows called through the raging inferno, and I followed the noise as best I could while keeping my streaming eyes shut tight. The floor burned, and the air grew heavier by the second, but I could tell I was getting nearer to the cats. What I would do when I found them, I had no idea. But I had to try. I couldn’t leave them alone to die in a burning building.

  I came to an open doorway and slid myself inside, my far-reaching hand caressing the soft, fluffy body of a cat. I sighed in relief, pulling myself all the way through into the room and kicked the door shut behind me. I tried opening my eyes, but the smoke burned so badly it was blinding. Quickly working my way through the unfamiliar space, I managed to get hold of three cats. I hung onto them tightly, each one writhing in my arms, as I listened for more. But no sound same.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief and slung my fingers on one hand through the collars of two cats, and my other hand through the third. I then began dragging them back through the doorway and down the hall to their great howling protests when a loud crash boomed around us, and the roof structure gave way within the apartment. I gasped and released my grip, I covered my head. The cats howled, and I screamed, inhaling a lung-full of black, suffocating smoke before the room went dark and I was swallowed into nothingness once more.

 

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