Orc and Bunny

Chapter 14 - The Old Tower

Anne and Belmoral stood in front of a glass tube. A completely naked britomite man floated inside the light blue fluid that filled the glass tube. Wires and all manner of inexplicable doodads came from the back of the man and the tube. Identical tubes that stretched as far as the eye could see filled the chamber they had found themselves in after entering the old tower.

“Father?” Belmoral whispered, as she pressed her hand against the glass, “What did they do to you?”

As if in response, Holtha’s eyes opened, and he began screaming. It was muffled by the liquid and glass. Bubbles burst forth from his mouth, writhing as if in pain, head thrown back and neck muscles flexing horribly.

Belmoral jumped back, her eyes wide in panic.

“What do I do?” She begged the screaming man, “Dad! Please, what do I do?”

Blinding red lights spun in circles from orbs that were mounted to the ceiling. A deafening deep buzzing unlike Anne had ever heard punctuating the flashing. It was so disorienting that she didn’t notice that the screaming had stopped and the water was draining from the glass tubes.

All at once, they were surrounded by perfect copies of Belmoral’s father - Holtha. Hundreds of them, and they were angry.

“Father, what’s wrong?” Belmoral pleaded, backing from the slow, growling advance of her father, “What can I do?”

“Belmoral, I don’t think that’s really your father-,” Anne tried, pressing her hand against the other woman’s shoulder.

“Shut up!” Belmoral turned, a desperate pleading in her voice, “You don’t know that.”

“I think we should-,” Anne started, but right then the copies of Holtha roared and charged, “RUN!”

Anne and Belmoral began running out of the tower, the way that they had come, but everything had changed, and the only way forward was up a winding stair. The endless wave of Holthas pushed and shoved each other mindlessly before chasing the running women.

It was enough of a distraction for Anne and Belmoral to get a decent head start, but all too soon the angry, naked men were catching up. They finally reached the top of the stairs. The sparse stone landing had only a pair of doors, standing open and an empty dusty room beyond.

Anne and Belmoral ran through and shut the heavy wooden doors behind them. The mindless horde of men pushed themselves against it brutally. The shouts and grunts filled the air, as the two women desperately held the doors.

“Anne, can you hold this by yourself for a second?” Belmoral asked.

“What?” Anne squeaked, hardly believing her ears.

“Look, there’s a beam over there we can use to hold this closed.”

Anne looked, and there was in fact, a beam. It looked to be as thick around as she was, and as long as Belmoral was tall. The only problem was it was across the room from them.

“Will you be quick?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Hurry, I don’t know how long I can hold them on my own.”

“On three,” Belmoral warned, “One.”

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The banging increased in intensity.

“Two.”

Her shoulder ached just from holding one, but they couldn’t last forever.

“Three.”

Anne pressed harder against the doors, her legs struggled to hold herself upright. Belmoral ran to the beam leaning against the opposite wall, and grunted as she lifted it onto her shoulder.

The banging pushed Anne away from the door. She caught herself painfully on her wrist and slammed back into the door just as the latch that had been her only aid snapped through the door right in front of her face.

Belmoral was only halfway back, struggling under the immense weight of the thick wooden beam.

Anne’s back screamed for her to just stop. She desperately wanted to lay down, and sleep for three days.

Belmoral was three quarters of the way back.

“Hurry! I can’t hold it any longer!” Anne screamed.

Belmoral finally slid the beam against the door, pushed her weight against the oncoming horde, and slotted it into the sturdy frame, just as Anne finally collapsed.

The banging immediately stopped.

They both lay on the cold floor and groaned.

“Is this what adventure is?” Anne asked rhetorically, the horror of what had just happened finally reaching her, “Why did I want this?”

“I don’t know why anyone would want this.” Belmoral answered, tears ran down her face, shivering.

“Oh, my,” a strange voice giggled, causing both Anne and Belmoral to jump to their feet, “I do believe you didn’t like my little surprise. How terrible.”

“Who are you?” Anne demanded, raising her rapier toward the strange eight armed woman in front of her. Each arm had three segments, and strange fangs protruded from her mouth.

“Hmm? Oh, how rude of me,” the woman said, putting down a cup of tea on a table in front of where she was sitting, “please allow me to correct that most egregious oversight in my decorum, I am Illusprady the Venomous, your humble host in this illusory tower. Please, join me.”

All at once, Anne and Belmoral were sitting at the table opposite Illusprady. A steaming cup of tea in front of each of them. Anne turned to look at Belmoral, but she wasn’t moving. Not even breathing, just frozen in place.

“What did you do to Belmoral?” Anne demanded, “What is all this?”

“My dear sweet Anne,” Illusprady the Venomous said after daintily taking a sip from the tea cup in her hand, “do you not long for adventure? I can take you on adventures that you could scarce imagine. And the best part, you would never die from them. Not really.”

Anne considered her words.

“Why would I agree to that?” Anne finally broke the silence, “I’m already going on greater adventures than I ever imagined.”

“Oh, my dear, I am afraid that maintaining the illusion for both you and your companion is too much for me. So one of you must die at the hand of the other,” Illusprady giggled at the word die, “Your acquaintance is not really frozen, I am actually currently making her a similar offer. Only she’ll live a happy life with her father. Shortly, I will bring her back, and you will both make your choice.”

Anne couldn’t believe it. She could never bring herself to kill Belmoral, the closest thing she had ever had to a friend. Belmoral had done more for her and her father, than she could ever repay. Tears filled her eyes.

All at once, Belmoral unfroze. Anne didn’t make a single move, as Belmoral looked at her with a dark expression, and grabbed her bardiche from where it was set against the table. Anne nodded and closed her eyes, resigned to her fate, as Belmoral came around the table and raised her bardiche.

The blow never came. She waited. She heard a whoosh of air past her face but no flash of pain came. Her eyes jumped open at a cutting noise followed by horrible screeching.

Anne gasped at the sight of the monster, and the cavern that was all around them, covered in webbing. She struggled against the binds of the cocoon. Her hand reached slowly through and touched metal. Tears filled her eyes, and her heart thumped mercilessly in her chest. Her muscles ached to do something, to get away, to fight, anything, but the bonds were holding her tightly.

Her sword swayed where it had been unceremoniously stabbed. She reached desperately with her fingers until she was able to just get her hand around it. She pulled on it, but it slipped through her fingers. Taunting her as it moved back and forth.

Her vision stuttered between the tower room, where Belmoral was fighting the monster Illusprady, and the cavern covered in the same translucent webbing she was caught in. She got her hand around the sword again, and managed to pull it out. Her breathing was shallow, fast, and desperate. She analyzed her situation, she had a sword, but she could only reach to stab the monster looming over Belmoral.

Acting more from desperation than logic, Anne drove the point as deep as she could into the abdomen of Illusprady the Venomous.