A single slash sheared Lady NightRaven’s gun in half, not that she thought it would do her much good anyway. Still, the thing had been an investment, and even with She-Wolf’s new revenue stream it wasn’t something she wanted to lose.

Speaking of She-Wolf, Gorestrike had her pinned up against a wall by his crossbow, Gorestrike. The front was jammed under She-Wolf’s jaw, giving the detective an excellent view of the long, barbed bolt.

“I would appreciate it if we did not come to blows,” Gorestrike declared, “And if we did come to blows, I would appreciate heavier blows than that. Now, I come to you offering employment. Explain to me why it is you so callously turn me down.”

“Because you’re an evil-” Lady NightRaven started, Gorestrike’s crossbow pushing further into She-Wolf’s neck. She-Wolf choked and sputtered as she pushed against the crossbow, only succeeding in pushing herself farther into the wall.

“I am a man of honor,” Gorestrike declared, “Do not tarnish my reputation.”

“Err izzy,” She-Wolf rasped.

“Speak up,” Gorestrike ordered, pulling his crossbow back.

“We’re busy,” She-Wolf said between gasping breathes, “We already have a case. A big one.”

“What ‘job’ could possibly take precedent over him?” Gorestrike inquired, “I am Ser Gorestrike, king of Castle Gorestrike-”

“We’re looking into the death of Stone Cutter,” Lady NightRaven said, “We were sent a message when she died, it included her case files for some conspiracy she was looking into. One that, if we don’t solve, means that there won’t be a Castle Gorestrike anymore, or an Earth.”

“Truly?” Gorestrike inquired.

“Truly,” She-Wolf said, “At least, according to Stone Cutter’s notes. Still, still, Stone Cutter did excellent detective work! If Stone Cutter says we’re all doomed, then the odds are good we’re all doomed!”

“Feh! I suppose that some world-ending threat should be solved before my war against a nation!” Gorestrike declared, “Prove the threat to me.”

“Huh?” Lady NightRaven said.

“Glrk!” She-Wolf said, Gorestrike slamming her back into the wall.”

“Prove to me that this “Stone Cutter”’s suspicions are accurate,” Gorestrike said, “And I recommend you do so with all due haste, my bloodthirst only grows.”

“Uhm, okay, so there’s not a whole lot of evidence,” Lady NightRaven started, “But what she brings up hasn’t been mentioned by anyone else. A big part of it has to do with The Interlopers.”

“The\who?” Gorestrike inquired.

“A group of manifested who were put on trial last month or so?” Lady NightRaven asked, Gorestrike shook his head, “Big media circus? They’ve been marauding around King’s Head for the past year? These people?” Lady NightRaven pulled out a picture of the adventures at their trial.

“Ah! I remember them,” Gorestrike declared, “Inspiring people! I never knew there were six of them.”

“Right, well, the middle one there, she calls herself Cleric,” Lady NightRaven explained, opening the case files on her tablet, “Media reported that she pointed to Vanguard Squad and called them evil, but Stone Cutter got an anonymous tip that Cleric pointed directly towards Battle Crow. There are also a few eyewitness reports that Battle Crow was there when that giant robot captured Aurumite, the fact that Vanguard Squad’s arrest of The Interlopers was their fastest response time yet, and a single recording from one of Stone Cutter’s agents.”

“Mere hearsay,” Gorestrike declared, “I asked for proof, and you have failed to provide it.”

“I can show you the recording,” Lady NightRaven said, working to stay calm as she watched Gorestrike squeeze his crossbow’s trigger. She pulled up the recording on her tablet and showed him Gargoyle’s surprise attack on a shapeshifter. Gorestrike watched in silence as the superhero punched the oily shapeshifter into the pavement, fighting until the thing boiled away.

“I have,” Gorestrike started, “Seen that before.”

“This is the only recording from Gargoyle’s-” Lady NightRaven said.

“Not that,” Gorestrike declared, “The way Gargoyle’s foe died. I have seen that before. Once.”

She-Wolf collapsed onto the ground in a heap as Gorestrike pulled his crossbow back.

“I recall having slew an especially cowardly man,” Gorestrike declared, “Many years ago. When I crushed him beneath my great morning star, and he exploded in a mess of that strange, gray oil that swiftly boiled away. What does the Stone Cutter suspect?”

“That the shapeshifters are controlling society,” She-Wolf coughed, “To what end, we don’t know. But if they arrest people who can wound Tremortis it can’t be anything good. She linked the one recorded shapeshifter to a number of cold cases, mostly disappearances.”

Gorestrike was silent, contemplating this revelation. Lady NightRaven briefly contemplated running away, and She-Wolf hissed “Why did you open with ‘there’s not a whole lot of evidence’? Were you trying to get me killed?”

“Sorry! I panicked!” Lady NightRaven whispered back, “What would you say when the giant supervillain grills you on the case?”

“I wouldn’t say that we don’t-” She-Wolf started.

“It seems our goals align,” Gorestrike declared, “I am questing to topple a nation, you work to uncover the leaders who I oppose. We should cooperate. Before we discuss this further, we should return to my castle, where I shall allow you to stay as my honored guest.”

“Stay at Castle Gorestrike?” Lady NightRaven balked.

“Ser Goresttike,” She-Wolf began, “As, er, honored as we are for the invitation I don’t think we can accept it.”

“It’s not safe,” Lady NightRaven added.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Not safe?” Gorestrike challenged, “You would propose that my castle is not safe? You two are investigating a conspiracy that holds this nation, at the least, in their grasp. Your enemies can disguise themselves as anyone, possibly anything. To aid you, you have one-” Gorestrike raised a single, gauntleted finger. “-Ally. Me. And yet, against a hostile nation, it is my castle that is unsafe!”.

“That’s not a bad point,” She-Wolf said.

“You want to stay at the supervillain lair?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“It’d be a lot safer than our office,” She-Wolf said.

“What if he kills us?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Yeah, what if,” She-Wolf said, “Ser Gorestrike, are you going to kill us?”

“You couldn’t stop me,” Gorestrike declared.

“This is still a bad idea,” Lady NightRaven grumbled.

When She-Wolf and Lady NightRaven saw the mighty Castle Gorestrike, the only thing they could think of was that the castle looked untouched. Superheroes and the military laid siege to Castle Gorestrike, and not even the paint was scratched. The giant skull stood as a powerful reminder of Gorestrike’s power. The portcullis rose automatically as Gorestrike approached and Psychedelika called him over the intercom.

“Hey, Gorestrike.” Psychedelika’s voice came in clearly. “The ladies are back.”

“Most excellent!” Gorestrike declared, “I shall attend them in my throne room. Ah, and Lady NightRaven and She-Wolf are our honored guests. The full hospitality of Castle Gorestrike is open to them!”

“Does that mean I have to share my drugs with them?” Psychedelika asked, “Because I’m not going to.”

“They are not welcome in my lab,” Ascension said, “I shall not have disgusting Manifested in my presence.”

“You operated on me,” Psychedelika said.

“And me!” GianTessa said, “I’m a Manifested.

“There are historical records of giants,” Ascension said, “You are no different from them.”

“You sure you don’t want to study vampirism?” Lady NightRaven asked, “Or lycanthropy? And there are records of vampires and werewolves.”

“There are legends of vampires and werewolves,” Ascension said, “But the thought of researching you is enticing.”

“How flattering,” Lady NightRaven commented.

Castle Gorestrike wasn’t what Lady NightRaven and She-Wolf expected. Instead of marching down the halls of blood red brick and flaming skull torches, Gorestrike opened a door hidden in the wall and stepped into what looked like a servant passage. The grim atmosphere of Castle Gorestrike gave way to well lit halls, a nice tile floor, and cream colored walls. She-Wolf even thought she saw a gym down one hallway. Almost as soon as they had entered the servant passage, Gorestrike pushed open another door and stepped into the throne room. His harem was shocked, though only a little. The girls had positioned themselves to greet Gorestrike as he entered the main hallway, and they were-

“Wait a moment,” Lady NightRaven said, pointing a finger to Gorestrike’s harem, “Weren’t you girls rescued? Why are you back here?”

One of the girls looked to Gorestrike, who gave her a nod.

“We chose to return,” the harem girl said.

“Because?” She-Wolf prompted.

“Because he gives us rooms, good food, and good pay,” another girl said, “All we have to do is stay in shape and drape ourselves over him.”

“Doesn’t a harem have to-” She-Wolf started.

“I have no interest in such indulgences, glory and battle is all I need,” Goresttrike declared, “Now, ladies, normally I would not ask this of you. However, it seems our enemy uses trickery to infiltrate and attack from within. I shall not tolerate this cowardice, and so I require that each of you draw blood to prove your humanity.”

“We’re going to what?” one of the girls asked.

“Those of you who resist shall be slain,” Gorestrike declared.

“Hold on,” the first girl said, “Why exactly are we doing this?”

“Did I not make this clear already?” Gorestrike inquired, “Our enemy uses trickery to infiltrate and attack from within. I shall not tolerate this-”

“No, we got all that, mighty Ser Gorestrike,” the girl said, “So are you looking for spies, or traitors, or what?”

“I think they’re pod people,” She-Wolf said.

“You think everything is-” Lady NightRaven hissed.

“Look, here me out,” She-Wolf said, “You girls don’t need to know the specifics of the case, but Gorestrike-”

“Ser Gorestrike,” Gorestrike corrected.

“Ser Gorestrike is looking for monsters that can mimic human life-” She-Wolf continued.

“Like you?” another girl asked.

“Do I look human to you?” She-Wolf asked.

“When you’re not a werewolf,” the girl said.

“I’m always a werewolf!” She-Wolf barked.

“That actually brings up an interesting point,” Lady NightRaven said, “Who do we know that they can’t mimic Manifested?”

“Are you volunteering for Gorestrike’s trial by combat?” She-Wolf demanded.

“Hey, we’re not paid to fight,” one of the harem girls said.

“And just what do you think Gorestrike’s test would be?” She-Wolf demanded.

“That you would cut your arm open on my blade,” Gorestrike declared, “And that all here would watch blood drip from you.”

“What if we don’t bleed?” Lady NightRaven asked.

“Then it wasn’t a deep enough cut?” one of the harem girls asked.

“Why would we not bleed?” another harem girl asked.

“I’m a vampire, and I’ve never drank blood,” Lady NightRaven said.

“Do you drink water?” the first girl asked.

Lady NightRaven gave the girl a long, cold stare.

“No.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue,” She-Wolf said, “Lady NightRaven, even if you don’t bleed, Gorestrike and I will still know if you’re a mimic.”

“Everyone line up,” Gorestrike declared, readying his greatsword.

The harem lined up in front of Gorestrike, taking turns slicing their palms open and showing the open wound to Gorestrike. One by one, the girls were waved away, one of the harem girls having gotten a small first aid station ready with disinfectant and bandages. Things were moving smoothly until one girl reached for the sword and hesitated.

“Hey, um, can we get the sword cleaned?” the girl asked, “There is a lot of blood on it, and I don’t want an infection.”

“Complete the trial now,” Gorestrike demanded, “Or die.”

“No- I- I’ll do it,” the girl said, “I’ve just- uh- I’m squeamish. It takes a lot for me to-”

Gorestrike pulled to sword back, ready to strike.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” The girl was panicking. “I just need to- just need to-”

The girl turned and bolted, fleeing for her life. Gorestrike was upon her in three steps, his mighty greatsword Gorestrike slicing from to top of her head to the bottom of her heel. The girl’s body wobbled like water, shifting as Gorestrike’s sword passed harmlessly through her. The girl took one more step before Gorestrike whirled about, slamming the flat of his blade into her. The girl shattered, cast across the room like a thousand silvery water drops, and quickly boiled away without a trace.

The throne room was silent, save for one girl muttering “I’d know her back when we were ten.”