A god pretending to be the old man he once was, pretending to be a man who didn’t exist.
Tlaloc. A forgotten name. Bitterman.
The mockery annoyed him like like an eyelash in his eye.
As did his duties around the fat slaver’s mansion.
He entered the basement locking the door behind him.
The slaver had modified the space into some kind of sex dungeon.
Just being inside disgusted him.
The space was as large as a three bedroom apartment.
Full living area, kitchen, bathrooms and bedrooms.
One of these bedroom was his destination.
The real Don Wynn lay in a coma.
They needed him alive and thus it fell to Bitterman to occasionally descend into this place of depravity to refill the nutrient bag and to replace the waste bag.
Task done, he glared down at the unconscious slaver. “Today is Christmas. Christ’s day. It is truly a great gift what we’ve done to you. The women and girls,” his face twisted with rage, “you’ve abused have known none of your touch for months. We will destroy everything you stand for, everything you hold dear in your twisted heart. I will destroy everything of this place. I will burn it to the ground and salt the earth so that none will remember. My only regret is that you won’t know. But, soon, I will wake you and before I kill you… you will know why. The people you’ve hurt will know no more pain. When we shatter your collars they will know freedom.”
Bitterman shuffled back up the basement steps on aching knees.
Soon he would be able to return to his true form and leave behind the weight of his mortal burdens.
“Jeeves,” Jayde nodded as he emerged. “This place has basement?” she tried to look over his shoulder as he locked the door. “What’re you keeping down there?”
He turned and glared eye to eye with the woman. “Something important to what we are all doing here.”
“So, if I try to sneak down there it’d be bad?”
“Yes.”
“Good enough for me… where do you guys keep the tortillas, we’re running low?”
“In the cabinet.”
“There are a hundred cabinets in this kitchen,” she said flatly.
“I’ll bring them out,” he said through grit teeth.
“Thanks, Jeeves!” she smiled and patted him on the head, “Merry Christmas!” she spun on her heel and sauntered back to the dining room.
The woman was doing it on purpose. He knew this. She mocked him because he appeared old and weak.
He retrieved several boxes and bags of tortillas carrying them into the dining room.
The short American, Cal, sat, not at the head of the table, but on the side.
Their other guests where all there.
The three women, the Furies or Heartfuries, it wasn’t clear to him.
The man, Fin.
A young man, Drake.
And the nine men and women that Cal had brought back last night.
What he didn’t see were any of the enslaved women and girls serving.
“It’s Christmas,” Cal said, “they’re having lunch on their own. I’m giving them the day off.”
He scowled.
“It shouldn’t be more than a small blip on the slavers’ radar if they are monitoring physical activity through the collars. Besides, I gave them a few more important things to worry about,” Cal said. “So, try to relax, have a seat, enjoy lunch,” he grinned, gesturing to the empty chair at the head of the table, “since you are the oldest person here…”
“I’ll eat elsewhere.”
“Really, c’mon, man… I made tacos for you.”
“These aren’t tacos.”
“Sure, they aren’t authentic Mexican tacos, but they’re close, I got the ingredients from a Mexican grocery store,” Cal said.
“You flew to Mexico?” Drake blinked.
“I went to one in the city,” Cal said.
“I eat alone,” Tlaloc piled a plate with meat and salsa, grabbed a stack of tortillas and left. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Cal said.
“Have you told the magus yet?” Waleed said.
“Not yet, soon.”
“But, she needs to know that she doesn’t have to fight anymore,” Waleed said.
“Her next fight isn’t until the 2nd.”
“But—”
“Waleed… you’re as safe as you can be while in this place and she’s safe as long as the slavers think she’s still playing ball. They’ll want to be extra careful with her now that they don’t have you guys as leverage. So, they’re going to keep acting like they’ve still got you, while trying to figure out how you escaped and who was responsible. Look, I’ve got a couple of ideas on an exit plan for you guys and the magus, but I want to talk to her first and see what she wants to do.”
“Just fly them out to wherever the rangers are at,” Jayde said around a mouthful of food.
“He can’t,” Hayden said. “Something to do with how you’re pretending to be this lord.”
“I’m not going to tell you how.”
“Why not? We’re all on the same side and I’m super curious. It’s creepy how they act like you’re some other dude,” Dayana said.
“Opsec,” Fin nodded sagely.
“Oh… I know this,” Drake raised a hand, “because other people knowing that part of the plan isn’t necessary. And more people knowing increases risks, like, say we get captured and tortured.”
“I’d just make up all sorts of crap if they tried that on me. I’d be dropping nobles’ names like I ate some bad tacos,” Jayde scoffed.
“It wouldn’t matter with the right Skills or spells and we know that those exist,” Fin said.
Cal subtly studied Waleed and the magus’ friends.
Their surface thoughts were a swirling maelstrom of fear and relief.
The latter at their freedom.
The former at what came next.
None of them believed they were truly safe at the moment. Not while they were still in the middle of the slaver kingdom. Not while the magus was still fighting on their behalf.
He had eased their slumber by keeping their dreams pleasant and stopping the nightmares before they began, but it’d take more than that to undo what the slavers had put them through.
----------------------------------------
“I know it’s hard having Christmas so far away from home,” Demi said.
“Not really, commander. Everyone here is basically my family. We’ve had Christmas at your place the last, like, three years. So, it’s not that different,” Trevor said.
“I know… it’s going to be nice not having to clean up after you messy bastards for once,” Demi said.
“The chicken smells good,” Cara said.
“Thank you to Oscar for cooking them,” Demi pointed to the young man.
He blushed at the applause. “Um… no big deal, I just did what my dad does. Uh… beer can chicken from his dad before him… um… that sort of thing.”
“I was wondering why you were putting a can of beer inside the chickens,” Ginessa said.
“It’s supposed to make the meat really moist,” Oscar said.
“Moist…” Trevor chuckled.
“Trevor, you’re over 30,” Amber frowned.
“I’m only as old as I feel,” Trevor nodded sagely.
“And that’s why you can’t keep a relationship longer than three months,” Rebekah said.
“Says the person that struggles to make them last longer than two,” Trevor raised a brow.
“I’m okay with that. I’m comfortable with that aspect of my life,” she replied.
“And that’s why it isn’t any fun trying to get a rise out of you,” he said.
“Hey, are we watching the matches today?” Tobin said.
“Boo!” Max said.
“Max!” Alexa said.
“What, no offense, kid,” he said to Tobin, “but I am not watching bloodsport on Christmas.”
“Not that… I meant your arm,” Alexa sighed.
“What about it?”
“You’re shaking bark and dirt on my plate and is that a bug?”
“I’m one with nature, which we should be grateful for as we partake of its bounty,” he waved his arm of wood and earth over the spread.
“Damn it, Max!”
“But, the ranger team has a playoff match,” Tobin said.
“You can watch if you want, Tobin,” Demi said. “Max, stop sprinkling dirt and bugs on our food. I appreciate nature as much as you, but I don’t want living things and not-food things going in my mouth.”
“Aye, aye, commander,” he saluted.
“Commander, do I really have to keep them outside?” Cara pleaded.
Demi looked over at the young woman’s animals staring at her forlornly from the balcony. “You bunch had your chance,” she addressed the animals. “I warned you, but you kept messing with the food. So, this is your punishment for misbehaving like children. Sorry, Cara, but I have to be firm on this.”
“Okay…” Cara pouted.
“They’ll get their food after we’re done,” Demi said.
“So, I made the mashed potatoes,” Alexa said.
“You mean you added water to the mix and put it on the stove,” Trevor said.
“Exactly,” she smiled.
“So… can we start? I missed breakfast,” Tobin said.
“Should’ve woken up when I told you,” Amber said.
“I had the late shift,” she complained.
“We’re just waiting on Hillary and Del,” Trevor said, “I guess I’ll go get them.”
He went to Hillary’s room because that was going to be easier.
The girl was probably on her computer.
“Hey, Hillary!” Trevor knocked.
“What!” she screamed back.
“Lunch!”
“I’m busy!”
“Lunch!”
“I’ll be out when I’m done!”
“No good! I’m coming in… slowly… so if you’re in you’re underwear or something you’ll have time to—”
The door swung open.
“I’m busy,” Hillary glared up at him.
“C’mon, kid, Christmas lunch is getting cold and everyone’s getting impatient and you know how they all get,” he lowered his voice.
“You mean, you’re hungry… and I’m not a kid, turned eighteen remember?”
“Yeah, otherwise you wouldn’t have been allowed on this Quest. But here’s the thing. I remember you as this tall,” he lowered his hand to about thigh height, “so… you and your kind are always going to be kids to me,” he grinned.
“I’m busy.”
“Programming spells?”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“Yeah.”
“Well, you do that all the time, so you can take a break and have lunch with us. Don’t make the watch commander issue an actual order. Remember what happened last year when Emilio and Lucy wouldn’t stop bickering over who got the last slice?”
“Fine,” Hillary flounced to the dining room.
Trevor found Del in the room they shared staring out of the window.
“Bro, lunch is ready,” he said lightly.
“Yeah, I heard,” Del sighed.
“You coming? They’re waiting on you.”
“I’m not really feeling up to it. Not in a good head space right now, you know how it is sometimes.”
“No, no, I totally get that. Um… are you gonna want some food? I can grab you a plate?”
“Thanks, Trevor, but I’m not hungry right now. Later,” Del managed a weak smile.
“Alright, bro, I got you… but you do know that as your friend I’m morally obligated to check again in, like, a couple of hours. You didn’t eat breakfast and you’ve got to stay hydrated.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll drag myself out there if I have to. I’m not going to be a liability by starving myself.”
“Nah, bro, you ain’t ever that. Hey, listen, maybe I can talk to the commander and you can, maybe, turn off the danger sense for a break. It’s probably wearing you out having it be going off all the time.”
“It’s really not, Trevor. I can handle that and it’s not that bad. More like a low level ringing. Like tinnitus.”
“God, I have that sometimes and it bugs the hell out of me.”
“I’m not keeping it up at max level.”
“Alright, cool. Just checking, cause you know that Hillary’s got surveillance all the way down the hotel and out to the streets. We’ll have plenty of warning if the slavers move on us. Plus, Ginessa’s got her senses, not to mention Cara’s pets.”
“I know.”
“Alright, bro… just… uh… if you need to talk, I’m here, we’re all here. Listen, bro, I know I don’t say this, but we’re family, all of us and I love you and they love you too.”
Del blinked. “Jesus, Trevor! I’m just feeling a little down. That’s all.
Trevor looked at him expectantly.
“Er… I love you too…”
“Yeah, it’s a little awkward, I know,” Trevor grinned sheepishly, “something my last girlfriend said I need to work on, be more emotional and shit,” he shrugged. “Figured you guys are the most important people in my life, so…”
“No, your right. Sometimes it’s hard to recognized that you’re not alone,” Del said. “Thanks… you should get back to lunch before someone comes looking for you.”
“Later, bro.”
Trevor returned to the dining room and shared a knowing look with Demi.
The watch commander nodded.
“Del’s not hungry?” Tobin said.
“Yeah, he’ll eat later,” Trevor said.
“Everyone eat and please try to act like you know what table manners are,” Demi said.
----------------------------------------
The California State Government contingent held their Christmas lunch in their hotel’s largest banquet hall.
Enslaved hotel staff cooked and served the meals to dozens of large round tables filled with men and women clearly uncomfortable with the set up.
Their captain, Doran, had tried and failed to get the enslaved the day off by telling the slavemaster that they would handle all the food prep, cooking and that they could serve themselves.
The slavemaster insisted otherwise.
Thus, conversation at the tables was guarded.
Their captain had ordered them in the severest of tones that anyone that gave away crucial information accidentally would regret it in the window of time before the slavers came down on their collective heads with overwhelming numbers.
Kare’s face broke into a goofy grin when the enslaved waitress placed a second plate of ribs in front of her.
“Yup,” Jake said after the waitress moved on to the next table, “that’s exactly how many you asked for.”
The blond weredog nodded. “I thought I’d make her job easier.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be giving her a ‘job’,” Rino bared her teeth.
“Don’t flash your fangs at me. They have to work anyways,” Kare said. “Even if I told her not to bring me food. There’s hundreds of other people she’d need to help.”
“Maybe Doran should’ve told the slaver scum to fuck himself. We should’ve just ate our own supplies in our rooms,” Rino said.
“Captain Doran wanted to boost morale by having most everyone share Christmas together,” Jimenez said.
“It’s not working. Everyone looks hella awkward,” Xing said.
“That’s cause we’re participating in slavery,” Audra said.
“We’re going to need to turn in our cards,” Tre nudged her with his elbow.
“I’m this close to just going back to my room,” Audra held her thumb and index finger close together.
“Gonna be a bitch to explain this to my ancestors after I die,” Tre said.
“You can tell them it’s for a greater cause,” Marci said.
The table of people that survived the Philippines Quest kept up with their less than guarded conversation.
They ate and drank… lightly… as they reminisced about the comrades they had lost across the ocean.
Of their present and near future they spoke in unfinished sentences in fear of revealing too much to the slavers’ ears.
“How’s the holding bags thing you’re working on?” Marci said.
“Bag of holding,’ Jake corrected. “I’m on schedule. Hillary’s been a huge help in churning them out.”
“Hopefully, they won’t be necessary,” Jimenez said.
Jake regarded the small woman.
Her eyes continually darted to the banquet hall’s entrances.
“Yeah… the Watch will only need them in one of the potential outcomes on Cal’s conditional chart,” he eyed Rino.
“I’m out of the stupid tournament. Probably not going to get invited to the king’s closing banquet,” she shrugged “I wouldn’t need one of your sacks anyways.”
“I bet that’s something Jake hears a lot,” Xing grinned.
“I’m a gentleman and all I’m going to say on that is that how many points do you want to bet?” Jake waggled his brows.
“Men,” Audra exchanged a look with Marci.
The expert spearwoman smirked.
“Rino,” Xing began, “on a scale of one to Eron how strong was that True Patriot woman?”
“Where’s he on that scale?” she said.
“No one really knows,” Jake said.
“Strong enough to rip Cal’s super special alien armor like it was made out of tin foil,” Tre said.
Jimenez frowned. “I thought the fog monster did that.”
Xing leaned forward. “I heard from someone that got a close look at it and he said that it looked like the damage was made by fists and fingers,” he whispered.
“Yeah, sure, ‘someone’,” Audra sighed.
“You’ve got to name sources. It’s stupid when you make a statement of fact based on ‘hearing’ from ‘someone’. That’s like saying ‘I heard from someone that using healing and mana potions changes your DNA’,” Marci said.
“I agree with the gist of what you’re saying Mars, but that was a bad example, we literally don’t have conclusive information on potions changing our DNA,” Jake said.
“What about strength and the skin altering ones? I feel like my skin temporarily changing to the consistency of wood or stone is definitely hella messing with my DNA,” Xing pointed out.
“The key word is ‘temporary’, but you’ve got a point,” Jake shrugged.
“None of that has anything to do with what you were talking about in the first place,” Jimenez sighed.
“Yeah, so… name your source,” Marci said.
Tre and Xing exchanged looks.
“I heard it from you,” they said in unison.
Laughter erupted around the table.
“If Eron’s a 100, then I’d have to put True Patriot somewhere in the 30’s or 40’s,” Rino said.
“Nah, I heard he’s way over 9000,” Xing grinned.
Blank looks greeted him.
“What? Don’t tell me none of you gets that?” Xing complained.
“I did, but that was cringe, fool,” Tre chuckled.
“I also did, but didn’t want to seem like a weeb,” Jake said.
“Just knowing that word puts you way ahead of the others on the weeb scale,” Xing said.
“I don’t know and please don’t explain it to me,” Audra said. “People in their 30’s and 40’s shouldn’t even be talking about anime.”
“Ha!” Xing thrust a finger in Audra’s face, “you know too!”
“Who cares, I know what you meant and it was stupid,” Rino said.
“I didn’t… please explain,” Kare raised a half-eaten pork rib.
Xing explained.
“Yup… stupid,” Audra said.
“People should be allowed to be enthusiastic about what they like,” Kare chided.
“Yo, it could be into so many worse things and that’s just in anime,” Xing said.
“There’s an easy way to resolve this,” Audra said. “Jake, Rino, you guys are pretty tight with Cal, right?”
“I mean, I’d consider us friends, but I don’t know if I’d say we’re ‘tight’,” Jake shrugged.
Rino grunted.
“Just ask him,” Audra said.
“Nah, that’d be weird, I can’t just a—”
“I’ll ask next time I see him. Haven’t seen him in awhile,” Rino said.
“Uh oh— we’ve got incoming,” Jimenez said.
Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of fear in the woman’s voice.
Rino and Kare perked up at the sound of dozens of booted feet coming through the hotel lobby.
All across the banquet hall, dozens of Danger Sense Skills triggered.
A few dozen armed and armored men and women marched into the banquet hall.
“You think you can just do that to the Crimson Tide!” the stout, tall man at the head barked.
“What the hell is this?” Jake said.
Each of them carried some sort of blunt instrument.
Each carried a small piece of red cloth with a stylized A somewhere on their body or clothing.
“Ah… I think I know what this is,” Marci said. “A couple of our teams and fighters beat theirs in, like, the last week. Bronze mostly, a few in Silver.”
“They’re a merc company or band or adventurers or whatever they’re calling themselves. Levels mostly in the 20’s, a few 30’s. Based out of somewhere in the southern part of Alabama.”
“Crimson Tide,” Tre nodded in recognition. “Old college football team, University of Alabama,” he explained.
“I wasn’t into football. No teams in Sacramento. And there was no way I was rooting for the Niners or the Raiders. More of an NBA guy myself… Kings… not Warriors… I didn’t do bandwagons,” Jake said.
“Nothing wrong with rooting for a team you like,” Xing said.
“Sounds like someone that climbed on that Warriors bandwagon,” Jake grinned.
“I was a fan of them for as long as I can remember. Not my fault they got good,” Xing raised his hands defensively.
Jake snapped his fingers. “These guys are dojo storming us,” he laughed.
“Stupid and lame,” Rino grunted.
“Crimson Tide is calling you out!” the man continued to rant.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Doran stood from his table and marched up to them flanked by dozens.
“What? Scared of a real fight,” the man sneered down at the grizzled old spear captain.
“You forget the rules,” Doran grunted.
“Don’t be scared, grandpa, we ain’t aiming to kill any of you… on purpose.”
“No fighting,” Doran said flatly.
“I see the yellow running down your leg. Is that cause you can’t control it no more? Or are you just a bitch?”
“You attacked us. We just defended ourselves. That’s in the rules,” Doran smiled mirthlessly. He raised two fingers and gestured to the Crimson Tide mass.
A partially-transformed Rino and Kare leapt over their table and started laying waste with their fists.
Thus, did their Christmas lunch ended with giving the Crimson Tide a one-sided beating.
----------------------------------------
“Merry Christmas!”
“Happy Holidays!”
“Krazytimes with Krampus!”
Rayna’s Rangers exchanged greetings as they entered the reservations events hall for their Christmas night celebration.
“Krampus, what’s that?” Rai said.
“I had it explained to me,” Ambrose said, “it’s an evil Santa Claus. Like, this demon that takes away bad children in his sack instead of bringing present. Also something about hitting them with coal, I think?”
“American’s have some weird traditions,” Rai said.
“Not like we don’t have some crazy ones. Back home people used to re-enact Jesus’ crucifixion,” Ambrose said.
“Krampus is more of a Euro thing. This real crucifixion stuff, now that sounds crazy! Tell me more,” Spicy approached with two beers, handing one to Ambrose. “Like, with real nails? As in, through their hands? What about the thorn crown? The whipping?”
“You’re sounding too excited about this,” Rai said.
“Why not? It sounds fascinating.”
“Yeah, whipping for sure, that’s like the go to. Sometimes crown. The nails depended on how crazy the guy was,” Ambrose said.
“Wow! You guys are hardcore! All I remember from Christmas back then was that church was extra long because they had to sing everything for some stupid reason and there was the plastic baby Jesus in the bad plastic manger. Someone was always stealing him, so the church had like shelves just full of baby Jesus dolls,” Spicy said.
“Oh, you were Catholic?” Rai said with a significant look at Ambrose.
“On, like, Easter and Christmas,” Spicy shrugged. “I know you guys are all Catholic, right?”
“Like, 99%,” Ambrose said. “But, you kinda fall away from that when the spires and monsters appeared. That stuff wasn’t in the Bible.”
“I get that. I dropped what little attachment I had to religion when an actual apocalypse happens and it’s nothing like they said it would be,” Spicy said.
“Better this than the apocalypse in the bible,” Rai said.
“I guess… I never really read it,” Spicy said.
“To summarize… it would’ve been bad for us humans and there wouldn’t have been anything we could’ve done but suffer before being killed in the wars,” Rai said.
“It could’ve been worse,” Ambrose laughed, “only you, my friend, could see the positives in the Spirepocalypse.”
“Hey, Creepy Chipmunk, I’ve got something I want you to see,” Spicy said.
“What?” Ambrose said.
“It’s a plant, but I guarantee you have to see it.”
“Okay,” he shrugged.
Rai was left alone as Spicy dragged his friend away.
“Bout time,” Sgt. Useful said as she sidled up to him.
“Ma’am, uh… Sir.”
“None of that, Spiritwalker. We’re the same rank.”
“But you lead a squad. Multiple right now.”
“Needs of the Quest. Besides, you could have your own squad again if you wanted. Not to rush you or anything, but we do need talented squad leaders. What happened to your old squad… well, you aren’t alone in that.”
“Thanks… er… Useful. I know. The needs of the rangers outweigh my own concerns, but I’m not ready and I believe that I’ll only cause more harm by forcing it.”
“Again, not rushing you, just poking a little,” she shrugged. “Say… I heard you talking about Krampus. Well, get this, he’s real.”
Rai nodded, politely managing to keep his eyes from narrowing.
The thing with the rangers was that they were always yanking each others chains.
Pranks.
Tall tales.
Almost anything was on the table.
“I can tell you don’t believe me,” she raised a brow.
“I… am… cautiously open to the possibility of said demon Santa Claus existing.”
“Well, I was there, heard it with my own ears. Do you want to hear more?”
“I think I will… regardless…”
Useful laughed. “Anyways… it was at a Christmas thing back home, kinda like this. I was sitting at a table right near Rayna’s family. Her brother, Eron was visiting that year, Cal hadn’t moved south yet. And he was telling Rayna about some of the stuff he saw flying around the world. You know, I used to dream about traveling when I was a kid. I guess that’s dead now. Do you know Eron?”
“I stood close to him a few times back in the Philippines.”
“Right, the Fog Quest… must’ve been crazy.”
“Yeah…”
“Do you think he’s single?”
“You mean, Eron? I wouldn’t be the person to ask.”
“Yeah, you’re right, well, whatever… so, my story… Eron was telling this story about an evil Santa Claus that was kidnapping kids and putting them in, like, a bag of holding, from how he described it. Like, it remained the same size on the outside, but this monster was putting like a dozen kids inside and taking them to its lair miles underground.”
“That’s terrible. I’m guessing Eron saved them.”
“Oh yeah, at least some of the kids. I didn’t catch the whole story cause of the music and loud conversations happening around us,” Useful said. “You got any interesting stories from when you were in the Philippines?”
“A few.”
Rai shared his own experiences with all manner of horrors.