Demonic Dora

by Claire Chilton

  He fought to suppress the urge to throw up while using his hands to search around in the dark. He could feel cloth draping over him and sharp painful blocks underneath him. He blindly explored his surroundings with his hands. The space was confined. He could feel the walls around him by simply stretching out his arms. He tried to control a bubble of panic when the thought of all those snakes being in here with him filled his mind.

  His hand hit something on a string, a pendulum of some kind. He felt around for it in the darkness. It was wildly swinging around, but he caught it in his grasp on the third try. The heavy, metal object was hanging from twine. He tugged it to see if it would hold his weight. A bright light burst into the small room, and he found himself looking up the inside of a girl’s dress. It would have been a pleasant experience had there been a girl inside the dress, but alas the dress was empty.

  Something sharp dug into his backside, so he rooted around with his hands to pull the object out from beneath him. He stared at the shiny ruby slipper in his hand. The three-inch heel and pointed toe on the shoe answered some questions for him.

  I’m in a witch’s closet!

  Kieron pushed the clothes out of the way and got to his feet, ripping half of the dresses off their hangers in the process. He surveyed the inside of the closet before turning to face the slatted door. He inhaled a sharp breath when he stared through the gaps in the door and saw the witch.

  She lay on a pink bed at the centre of the room with her ebony hair twisted up in knots. Her blood-red lips pouted seductively at something she was watching. She was appealing to look at. Her long legs idly swung in the air behind her. She wore a pair of tiny red shorts and some kind of white tunic that had no sleeves. She was the first witch Kieron had ever seen, but his father had told him about them. They were all sexy little minxes with nasty tricks up their sleeves. He remembered seduction was their greatest trick, but he wasn’t worried. He was pretty smooth with the ladies. He’d had the best tutors—succubae.

  Kieron became aware of his own body swaying while he watched her legs swing back and forth behind her.

  Hypnosis!

  He realised and quickly averted his eyes up to the top of the closet, trying to calm his racing pulse. He refused to look at the witch and stared upwards. Piled on the shelf at the top of the closet were boxes and boxes of mysterious witch items. He tilted his head, trying to read the labels before reaching up to pull down the top box on the pile. It was red and white, the colours of blood and life.

  It must be one of her darkest secrets.

  It was labelled with one thick black word. He tried to pronounce the word in his mind. Mono-Polly. He didn’t know this language, but it must be immensely powerful to have such colours on it. He took a deep breath and opened the box while his heart hammered.

  Inside was an odd-looking ritual board.

  What kind of casting can you do with this?

  It had places on it with haunting names like ‘Marylebone Station’ and ‘The Strand’. There were strange tarot cards called ‘Chance’ and ‘Community Chest’. He recognised small silver ritual symbols of pagan items like the iron and the boot, but they were mixed in with symbols he hadn’t seen before. He gasped when he picked up the small icon of a dog, dropping the box in shock.

  What kind of monster is this witch? She’d cast upon a helpless hound.

  He nearly screamed when he looked through the slats in the door and saw her staring straight at him. She sat up on the bed and began making her way over to the closet. He inwardly cursed himself for making such a racket when he dropped the box.

  He found his eyes drawn to her ample bosom when she stood up.

  Think clean thoughts, think clean thoughts, he told himself. This minx will not turn me into her demon slave, no matter how bouncy they look. Er, she looks.

  He froze, overcome with a feeling of helplessness when she walked towards the door, reaching for the handle.

  Her chamber door burst open, and a deranged holy man with wild white hair stormed into the room. He carried a crucifix in one hand and a bag of salt in the other.

  Kieron involuntarily hissed as the witch spun around to face the man.

  He instinctively glanced down, his eyes drawn to her ass.

  “BACK DEMON!” Dora forgot about the noise in her closet as she spun around to face her father. He held a crucifix in front of him and appeared slightly crazed. His vestments were ripped and dirty, his hair was sticking out in a wild afro, and the insane gleam in his eyes could only mean one thing—exorcism time.

  Dora backed away from him to the centre of the room. “Dad, come on. Whatever I did, I didn’t mean it,” she said, holding her hands up in an attempt to placate him.

  “SILENCE DEMON!” He bellowed before waving his cross at her.

  “Oh, for fuc—ahhh …” Dora yawned in mid-argument.

  Screw it, I can’t be bothered. Just entertain his insanity, and you’ll get to bed faster.

  She obediently stood in the centre of the room while watching her father pour a circle of salt onto the floor around her. He shouted scripture at her, causing her to yawn again. Through bleary eyes, she studied him as he rushed to the wall and began nailing crosses to it around the doorframe. Sweat poured down his red face while he hammered the last cross into the wall.

  He turned towards her, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the bag of salt. “This will hold you, demon. Tomorrow you shall be sent back to Hell.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Dora rubbed her eyes with her fists, hoping he would bugger off soon, so she could go back to bed.

  Her father lined the window ledge with salt, then the doorway before carefully stepping over it and leaving the room. “You’ll burn for your sins.” He told her before he closed the door.

  “Okie dokie.” She agreed as the door slammed shut. She shook her head at the insanity of her life.

  Just before she stepped out of the circle, the door to her closet burst open. An attractive blond-haired boy with bright blue eyes fell through the door. He wore a swashbuckler’s shirt and tight leather pants. “Don’t worry, Minx-witch. I shall save you!” he cried.

  Dora gasped and swung her fist out at the strange boy. Her fist made a solid connection with his jaw and sent him flipping over face first onto the floor. She looked down at his unconscious body and sighed. “Okay, if you must.” She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

  Dora studied the unconscious guy sprawled face down on her puce carpet. He was gorgeous even with his mouth hanging open and a bit of drool coming out of it. He had high cheekbones, a strong jawline, smooth tanned skin, broad shoulders and a perfect ass. She inclined her head sideways and checked out his backside. He was wearing a pair of tight brown leather pants. It was almost hypnotic watching his buttocks randomly flex.

  She opened the leather pouch she had stolen from his belt. It was the closest thing he had to a wallet. It didn’t contain money or any kind of identification, only a range of colourful gems. Given his choice of clothing and the contents of his pouch, she could only assume he was a crazy pirate.

  That makes no sense. What would a pirate be doing in Berkville?

  The boy groaned, and she sighed with relief. She was glad she hadn’t done any serious damage to him. He rolled over onto his back and gazed up at her with sleepy eyes. Little bursts of electricity tingled all over her body when his bright blue eyes scanned her from head to toe in lazy appreciation.

  He smiled as he stretched his arms across the carpet, arching his back in the process. He paused when his fingers trailed over the circle of salt beside him. He briefly glanced at the salt and then back to Dora. His eyes widened in an instant, and his smile slipped. He jumped up yelping and frantically searching the room for something. “Oww! It burns, it burns,” he cried, shaking his hand as if trying to get the grains of salt off it.

  “What does?” She ran to his side to try and help, but he pushed her away during his desperate search of her room.

  “Wash
it off, the salt. Please, wash it off.” He begged as he wildly waved his hand around.

  Dora snatched his hand out of the air, tightly gripping his wrist while she examined it. His palm was large and masculine compared to her small hands. The skin was smooth and tanned like the rest of him, but there wasn’t a mark on it. It certainly wasn’t burning. “It’s not burning,” she said as she showed him it.

  He stopped dancing around like a lunatic and glanced down, peering at his hand in awe. Confusion furrowed his brow as she brushed the grains of salt off his palm.

  “It’s supposed to be burning.” He peered up, and their eyes locked.

  Her skin heated up, and a shiver trembled up her back. “Umm, why?” She attempted to appear unaffected by his close proximity.

  “Because it’s salt,” he said, implying she should know what he meant.

  Dora didn’t know what to make of him. She just stared at him.

  “Minx-witch, you should know these things.” He told her.

  “Who?” she asked. Why did he keep calling her that? His warm fingers massaged her hand before they travelled up to her wrist and arm.

  “Okay, enough games,” he said with defeat in his tone, but his eyes were sparkling with something else. “You win.”

  “Wha—” She didn’t finish as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His hard body pressed against her, and his warm hands roamed up her back. She almost melted into his wicked kisses—almost.

  Dora pushed him away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Becoming your willing slave.” He winked at her and rested his hands on her hips.

  Her heart did a little backflip. “Fine. Clean my room,” she replied.

  Heart, behave yourself. Who the hell is this guy?

  “Uh, I’m not that kind of slave. That’s not my purpose.”

  “Your purpose? What the hell were you doing in my closet? Who are you?” She stepped back and untangled herself from his embrace in case he attacked her again. She could handle many things; violence, robbery even religious zealots, but someone being nice to her and kissing her was a whole new experience.

  “Oh, how rude of me.” He dipped his head in a short bow before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. “Let me introduce myself. I am Lord Kieron D. Lascher.”

  Dora snatched her hand back before he kissed anything else and caused her brain to shrink. “What does the ‘D’ stand for?”

  “Oh, er, Derek,” he mumbled. “And you are?”

  “Derek?” She expelled a surprised giggle.

  “It means ruler.” He appeared offended. “What’s your name, Minx-witch?” he snapped.

  “Dora Carridine.”

  “Hmm, and you mock my name?” Kieron pouted at her.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, laughing. “It was fun—wait. Who the hell are you and what were you doing in my closet? Did Dad put you in there?”

  “Does your father often put young men in your closet late at night?” Kieron asked. He appeared genuinely curious.

  “Er, not so far, but you never know with him.”

  “I cannot confirm who put me in your closet, for I do not know. But I was ripped from my home and brought here for a reason. The longer I am here, the more I realise that it was the fates that sent me.” He studied her for a moment. “I believe I have been sent here for you. In fact, I am sure of it.”

  The words made something inside Dora heat up, and a shiver trembled through her body. Maybe it was because he looked so honourable and hot when he said it. Also, what girl wouldn’t love a guy that fate sent to her?

  “What makes you think that?” she asked.

  “You clearly need saving. It is simply a question of from what?” He slowly walked around her. “You are a minx-witch who is trapped in a tower by an evil holy man. Perhaps I am to save you from him?”

  He’d been standing behind her for a while. She wondered what he was doing back there, so she spun around and caught him staring at the place her ass had been a few moments earlier. She scowled at him.

  “Clearly you are also lacking in your skills as a minx if your kisses are anything to go by. Perhaps my duty is to teach you seduction.” He grinned as he leapt at her, knocking her onto the bed and pinning her down by the wrists. “Would you like that?”

  Dora acted on instinct. She kneed him in the balls as hard as she could before pushing him off her.

  He rolled sideways onto the bed and curled up in agony. “Why would you do that?” he cried. “What kind of demon-witch are you?”

  “One who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” she replied as she got off the bed and picked up a heavy vase. “Try that again, and I’ll knock you senseless—again!”

  He held up his hands in submission and sat up on the bed. “So, why am I here? Why else would I be here if not to help you?” He appeared to be genuinely confused.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked. She needed to know who this guy was. All she knew so far was he used old-fashioned words, and he was a bit of a perv.

  “Hell,” he said, waving his hand in the air as if to brush the question away. “Sinner’s Hall, the fifth level.”

  Dora stared at him in awe. “Hell? Y-y-you’re a demon?”

  “Obviously,” he said, appearing a bit upset that she hadn’t already known that. “Can’t you tell by my evil ways?”

  “Well, er, no.” She studied his handsome face and attractive body. “Aren’t demons supposed to have horns?”

  “Only hell spawn have them on the outside. The main demons are just—”

  “Horny?” She cut in.

  Kieron flashed a wicked grin.

  Dora shook her head. “I can’t believe I ask for a demon lord, and I get you.”

  “Hey! I am a demon lord.” He shot her an annoyed glance. “A big evil one, a master of destruction …”

  She peered in her closet. “Dress destruction?”

  “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “Uh huh, how exactly are you evil? You came here to save me!”

  “And to defile you, of course.” He defended his evil ways.

  “Okay, so … I summoned you. That makes you my bitch, right?”

  “I do not know that term.” He sounded confused.

  “Bitch? It means slave or servant, but in a good and manly way.” Dora grinned.

  “Ah, I see. Yes Minx-witch-Dora, I am your bitch.”

  She stifled a giggle. “Right then, My Bitch, there will be no defiling of me, and you will do as I command, understand?”

  “Not even a little bit of defiling?” A disappointed expression appeared on his face.

  “No, none at all.”

  “Evildoing?” His blue eyes shone with hope.

  “There probably will be some evildoing.” She admitted.

  “Okay, that sounds good.” Kieron agreed.

  “Good. Now, I’m tired. It’s been a really long day, so I’m going to go to bed, and I suggest you do the same.” She told him before she climbed into bed and hugged her pillow.

  The bed trembled as he got off it, and she snuggled under her blanket. The bed bounced as a weight landed on it. A hot body pressed against her back, and a strong masculine arm snaked around her waist.

  “Bitch.”

  “Yes, my minx.” His hot breath warmed the back of her neck.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Not in my bed.”

  “Oh come on! What’s a shared bed between a master and their minion?”

  Dora rolled over and pushed him off the bed with as much force as she could muster.

  “Fine.” He snapped, pushing himself off the floor. “I’ll sleep in the closet.”

  “Good bitch,” she said, stifling a laugh as he stomped over to the closet, walked into it and slammed the door shut behind him.

  After a few minutes, she began to worry about Kieron.

  There isn’t enough room in the closet for him to lie down.
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br />   With a sigh, she climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, deciding he’d be fine with a sleeping bag on the floor, instead.

  Dora opened the door while trying to think of the best way to suggest he should sleep on her floor. She blinked at the scene inside her closet. Kieron lay on a round king-sized waterbed adorned with red silk sheets and an array of opulent pillows and blankets. The closet had been transformed into a large room with everything from a minibar to a couch fitting comfortably inside it.

  He glanced up at her with a devilish grin. “I knew you’d change your mind, my frisky little minx. There’s room for two.” He winked.

  “Bitch,” she said before slamming the door on him. She walked away from the closet and climbed back into her pink bed, hugging her blanket and trying not to think about devilish demons.

  Sleep, she told herself. Maybe when I wake up the world will be sane again.

  Dora idly spun around in her computer chair while her mother sprinkled a circle of salt around her. She tugged on the ropes binding her wrists to the chair arms and sighed. It was exorcism time.

  Her father walked around the room holding his e-copy of the Rituale Romanum and a crucifix in his hands.

  “Mom, this is getting ridiculous. You know it’s me.” She pleaded with her mother, who was the least insane parent.

  “It’s the only way to help you, Dora.” Her mother refused to look her in the eye.

  “I’ve got exams coming up soon. I need to go to school to pass those. Keeping me prisoner in here is not going to help my GPA.”

  Finally, her mother glanced at her as if considering the possibility that she might actually graduate one day. Josie turned to Dora’s father. “She probably should be at school today.”

  “You think we should let this thing defile another child at the school?” Theodore snapped at Josie. He turned to Dora. “Do you think me foolish demon?”