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A fine octet of legs
Chapter 17 - Uninvited guest

Chapter 17 - Uninvited guest

Rita looked up through Alice’s eyes at the red skinned woman standing over her.

It was the first time she’d ever seen Demon without her metal mask on. She looked… surprisingly average. Her nose was flattened and slightly crooked, as if it had been broken and hadn’t healed straight, and her eyes were a rather ordinary brown. She looked… normal.

Alice tensed her legs, preparing to pounce, and Rita felt an angry growl form deep in her throat.

What was going on? Alice was just supposed to talk to them, not attack them. She’d promised! For that matter, why was she, Rita, still thinking clearly? Shouldn’t she be in a haze of rage? The last two times it had been instant. Each time the moment her eyes had locked on Demon, she was gone. Lost to some kind of bizarre and unexplained anger.

Then it clicked. Her own mind being clear plus Alice acting strangely… it was affecting Alice instead!

She just barely managed to exercise some form of control on her leg muscles as Alice leapt, an ugly snarl on her face. Instead of flying straight at the demon woman and likely getting bisected by the huge cleaver she wielded, Rita rocketed off at an angle. Demon’s eyes widened as she tried to adjust for the sudden and unexplained direction change, but the heavy sword’s momentum simply couldn’t be shifted that fast.

Her blade embedded itself in the floor, missing Rita by a hair.

Rita kept going, legs windmilling beneath her as she fought Alice for control. It was definitely different than when Alice had first taken over, earlier. Alice’s focus was scattered, and she couldn’t put up a coherent resistance to Rita overriding her.

By the time she hit the wall, Rita was in full control and Alice was locked out, screaming impotently in her head.

Just in time, too. She noticed Knight approaching out of the corner of her eye and with a squeak of terror, pushed herself off right before his mace struck the wall where her chest had been moments ago.

A bolt of some kind of dark energy flashed past her face, making her jerk away in surprise. The motion pulled her off balance and one of her many legs stepped into a tent, getting tangled up in the canvas.

She heard a clanking sound behind her, and saw Knight again trying to get to her. When she shrieked in terror and scrambled to get away from him, her foot stuck in the tent somehow managed to kick the thing into his feet, making him lose his balance and sending him sprawling into the pile of cookware stacked next to the fire.

Demon, who’d just managed to pull her weapon free of the ground, found her path blocked by a pile of pots, pans and plate mail, all clattering to the ground.

Rita herself also stumbled. A few of her legs became tangled with each other in her frantic rush to get away from danger and she grabbed hold of the only thing in reach: a shocked looking young woman wearing a white shift.

Unfortunately, all this managed to achieve was to drag the poor woman down with her as they both collapsed on top a tent in a heap of limbs and canvas.

When the woman began screaming, Rita instinctively grabbed her arms, trying to hold her still. It was almost unnecessary. The young woman froze as if paralyzed.

Rita was still struggling to extricate herself when the canvas of the tent was suddenly yanked away, sending both of them rolling across the ground and narrowly missing a small campfire in the middle of the floor.

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When Rita scrambled to her feet and turned to face the rest of the room, she was still holding the now shivering young woman in front of her. Facing her, were both Demon and Knight, the latter still holding the canvas of the tent in one hand.

Neither of them looked happy. Both held weapons.

[“Kill it kill it for the love of god please kill it”] the woman in her grip whimpered in their strange language.

Rita’s eyes met those of the young woman in her grip. She had dark hair, similar to Knight, though she seemed a bit younger. Very early twenties or late teens if she were to guess. The young woman just shook while staring up at her with big, terrified eyes.

Rita glanced down. She appeared to be dressed in her sleepwear, a white shift that only reached down to her knees, revealing pasty skin and skinny legs.

[“It’s got Ava. What do we do?”] Knight asked Demon. Rita looked up, dearly wishing she could understand a word they were saying.

[“Shit! I fucking told you…”] Demon growled, and the sound made Rita shrink back a little further. While the words were were unknown to her, the situation was pretty clear from context.

Somehow, she’d gotten a hostage. Not exactly how she’d hoped for their initial meeting to go.

“Everybody, please stop! I don’t want to hurt anyone” she said to the room.

Kill… KILL! Snap her neck!

“Shut up, Alice!”

[“What was that? What did it just say?”] Knight asked.

[“I don’t know! But see if you can keep it talking”] Demon replied, starting to slowly circle around.

Then Knight cleared his throat, getting Rita’s attention and spoke directly at her. [“If you hurt her, your death is going to be slow and painful, alright?”]

Rita’s heart soared! They’d talked to her! They’d actually talked to her! They were communicating! Perhaps not under the most ideal circumstances, but whatever worked, right?

“Okay, I don’t know what you just said, but I’m going to let her go now, okay? I’m not going to hurt her” Rita replied, trying to sound as calming as possible.

[“Yes, that’s right. Keep talking. Don’t pay any attention to the big, red demon sneaking into your blind spot. There’s a good Nemesis”] Knight replied to her.

She was getting through to them!

“Ok, here she goes…” Rita replied, relieved that she had managed to start defusing the situation. She’d decided she was going to name the woman PJ.

Carefully she let go of the PJ’s arms.

Then, after a few awkward moments where the woman just stood there, shivering, Rita gave her a gentle push backwards.

A huge, red arm flashed in between them and yanked the poor woman away.

[“Samual, now!”] Demon screamed from the side, diving away and dragging PJ along with her.

Rita looked up to see Knight starting to charge her again with a furious clanking sound. His mace was raised and what look like electric sparks were flowing from his eyes and across his armour, up to his weapon.

“No, please! Wait! Wait!” Rita shrunk into a terrified little ball; her arms held up in a futile attempt to stave off the coming blow.

She closed her eyes. Was this how it all ended?

[“Samual, stop.”] A new voice. One she hadn’t heard before. The fourth person? [“The Campsite is still intact.”]

She opened her eyes to see the Knight standing over her, silhouetted against the little fire, weapon raised, and looking like some kind of irate god of thunder.

[“What?”] Knight asked, turning his head ever so slightly.

Rita followed his gaze, trying to see who he was talking to. Off to the side, entirely unnoticed until now, stood the fourth of Demon’s group. He looked younger than Knight, but mostly he just looked confused, as if he didn’t know what to do. On his shoulder sat a cat, for some reason that Rita didn’t quite comprehend.

[“The Campsite. If you attack Nemesis, it will cease functioning and we will be fined by the Guild.”]

It was the cat. It was the fucking cat that was talking.

[“What does that matter, Zaxier? She attacked us!”] Demon roared, making Rita shrink back again. She was holding herself protectively over the unfortunate PJ who was still sobbing on the ground.

[“All I’m saying is that the fire is still burning. Now that you have acknowledged this fact, please act however you see fit.”] Rita couldn’t stop staring at the cat. She was in mortal danger, sure, but… The cat. Was. Talking.

[“Fines be damned! Kill her, Samual!”] Demon roared again, finally breaking Rita’s fascination with the cat.

She had no idea what they were saying. The only hint she could get as to her fate was from the Knight standing over her.

In his eyes, she could see the wheels turning.

And she could see the moment he came to a decision.

It wasn’t a good one for her.

[“Wait…”] PJ spoke weakly. [“Don’t kill her. I think… I think we may have made a mistake.”]