Night Bound - Part 1

by Wolfe

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • Night Bound Part 2

Chapter 1

The chains binding the women's wrists and ankles to the bed clanked as she thrashed weakly against their restraint. She was naked save for the leather collar around her neck. The collar's eldritch inscriptions glowed with a sickly blue luminosity in the half shadows of the dimly lit room. Another low moan escaped her lips as the creature sitting between her parted legs ran its powerful, taloned hand across her flat belly, over her hips and down to her inner thighs

"No, please don't. Please don't." Her voice was weak, indistinct

The creature, the demonic figure, a massive broad-shouldered, hulking thing, lent forward over her hips, its lips gently brushing the supine girl's pubic hair. Breath blew delicately upon her, invoking an agonized groan of pleasure - her sweaty, naked body writhed under the stimulus, her hips rising slightly to meet it

The demon moved over her, positioned its massive tool at the entrance of her pussy, its head almost brushing her lower lips. Her hips rose to meet him once again. The member now lay at the very entrance to her body

"Please no..." she whispered

* * * * *

Even the most ignorant observer would have been able to tell that this area of town was reserved for the privileged members of 18th century Boston society. The streets got wider, the houses bigger and the colors brighter than less salubrious sectors of the growing young city. And, as is generally the way with such areas, the neighborhood was quieter, with a restrained atmosphere pervading the air - intangible, but very real to anyone sensitive to such things. The validity of this axiom was maintained here, even though on this Friday night there was a gathering at one of the august dwellings. Light spilled from windows and doors of this particular house, an illusory openness to be sure, as only the chosen would gain admission to this abode. A steady succession of immaculately attired couples alighted from their coaches onto the street, made their way up a short pathway and entered through the double front doors

A servant, at all times maintaining a dignified, professional air, received the guests into the bright, warm interior - accepting their printed invitations while the maid accepted their now redundant over garments. One man, tall, broad-shouldered and imposing, had no printed invitation to proffer. This did not seem to perturb the receptionist who, after a moment of hesitation, waved the man through. The guest proceeded into the main room and joined the milling throng

The room was filled with the hubbub of voices. The myriad conversations rose and fell like a tidal flow of sound. The guests were all attired in the finest their respective wardrobes had to offer. The scene was not as impressive as would have been found in a major European city of the time, but the attendees were collectively proud of the scene and rightfully so. Ostentation is relative after all, and so it was a great display in its own right. To define and maintain the mood, a string quartet filled the air overhead the conversation with the majestic works of Bach, Greene, Mozart and others

A blonde girl of average height watched the quartet as they plied their trade, lost in themselves. Elizabeth envied the musicians - their purpose seemed to be so clear, the product of their labors so beautiful. She felt a pang of regret that she had not been gifted with a single musical bone in her body. Or so it had seemed, as all she had managed was a perfect reproduction of a cat being tortured, despite hours and hours of practice on her violin. It was an almost mystical experience - watching these people extract such perfection of tone and pitch from their instruments with such a natural, unforced ease. These people had found their calling, she reflected, she on the other hand seemed destined never to do anything practical. It seemed she couldn't even be a good hostess at her father's party

At that thought, Elizabeth struggled out her daydream and smoothed the front of her exquisitely crafted pale-red dress. Elizabeth had been somewhat surprised when her father had suggested the style of the dress at the dressmakers. While it was most assuredly a beautiful dress and she was very pleased with it, it was somewhat generous with the presentation of her d'colletage, as it were. Elizabeth's suspicions were confirmed when her father had suggested she wear it at tonight's function - she was being put on display, presumably for the highest bidder

She looked around - so many people, so much talk, and laughter, so much life. Elizabeth was alone amidst it all, as though stranded on an island within sight of a populous shore. The very nearness of others served only to throw her sense of isolation into sharp contrast

And she was alone by choice. Somehow she felt she just didn't seem to... connect with these people. It was a sensation she found impossible to explain to herself, to understand. She didn't dislike them as a group; likewise she didn't feel particularly attracted to them as a group, they were just so mundane, dull. She felt distant from them, as though she somehow failed to share their hopes, desires and expectations - something one would normally expect of one's own social grouping. It was just...

A movement broke Elizabeth free of her introspection, causing her to focus her attentions back on the real world once more. A young man stood before her. She recognized him immediately. Jonathon Braxton was the son of a rather successful town businessman, one of Boston society's leading social figures. That meant she should be nice to him - Pa'pa would be most displeased if he found out his daughter had affronted the powerful Braxton family! Immediately she was ashamed of her own thoughts - Jonathon was a pleasant enough boy and the least she could do was be civil to him. She realized he was speaking

"...nice evening?"

Elizabeth suspected this was a question but as she hadn't heard the start of it she just smiled pleasantly and made an "mmmmm" noise

Jonathon waited a few seconds for the expected answer and, sensing that he wasn't going to get any further response bravely ploughed on

"I say - th-that's a nice dress you are wearing tonight, Elizabeth," he said, the slight stammer betraying the nervousness he felt, "you do look quite fetching indeed." It was the first time she had worn it, her father had 'suggested' she wear it - presumably for this exact moment

"Why thank you, Jonathon, you are most kind. You cut quite the dash yourself in your new suit. I do love the necktie - frightfully avant garde."

"Oh, you noticed it was new did you?" His shoulders straightened perceptibly. "It's cut to the latest London fashions, you know. Father had it made for my birthday."

She raised her eyebrows slightly in expectation. Jonathon took the cue. "It's next month."

"Oh, of course, how could I forget? And you shall be 21?"

"Yes, Father has a rather grand celebration all arranged. It is going to be a frightfully exciting affair. Ahhh, you're invited, of course." Jonathon glanced at his shoes

"Well, I'll be sure to be there then. In fact, I wouldn't miss it for the world," Elizabeth smiled magnanimously now, proud of her recovery. Jonathon looked up and broke into a broad grin. The smile lit up his face in a way that had been rarely seen since his mother had died of tuberculosis a few years ago. Elizabeth felt a flash of empathy with him, a moment of human connection and her smile developed into one of genuine warmth. Jonathon grinned back. They looked at each other for a couple more seconds

Then Elizabeth realized she had allowed an awkward silence to develop. Frantically she grasped for a way to avert the embarrassing admission that she had nothing really to say to poor Jonathon

"And how is your Father's business?" she inquired

"Oh, it's all coming along frightfully well really," Jonathon began with a rush, suddenly desperately grateful to have something to talk about. He began to rattle on about such matters as trade level, taxation, equity and such the like - all the while exerting every ounce of willpower he possessed to not glance at her cleavage

Elizabeth tried to maintain concentration, sound interested, and give what she thought were the appropriate noises at the appropriate times, but it goes without saying that the conversation went downhill at this point. Elizabeth found it increasingly hard to concentrate on Jonathon's words - she kept slipping off into her private thoughts

With a start she realized Jonathon has stopped speaking. He was looking at her intently

"Oh how interesting, Jonathon," she said, somewhat limply. "Mmmm, yes, indeed."

"Quite."

There was another pause. Once again Elizabeth desperately tried to think of something else to say, but for the life of her nothing would come to mind. Eventually Jonathon broke the silence

"Well, it's been awfully nice chatting to you this evening," he said, struggling to maintain eye contact with her, "but I really should let you mingle with some of the other guests."

"Oh no, it is I who have kept you for too long. I'm sure many of the other ladies here are dying for your delightful conversation."

"Ah, huh," he muttered, his gaze again finding his shoes. "Well, must get on then. And I shall doubtless see you next month."

She stared at him blankly. He looked up at the pause

"For my birthday celebrations - my 21st."

"Oh, yes!" Elizabeth gave a small laugh. "But of course. I rather look forward to it."

"Quite," he said the word once more. He gave a slight bow and withdrew, disappearing into the well-dressed crowd

As he disappeared from sight the breath came out of Elizabeth in a long, deflating stream

"Well, that was a disaster," she thought, unable to decide whether to be anguished or despondent. She decided on a compromise and rapidly oscillated between the two emotional states. "He must think me a moron! He's probably gone to tell his friends a big joke about Elizabeth Chalmers, who couldn't hold an intelligent conversation with both hands! And he didn't even glance at my bosom once - he must hate me!"

Elizabeth drifted amongst the throng, attending to her thoughts while reflexively responding to the polite acknowledgments and greetings from various attendees

The joy of social interaction, she noted vaguely, is that so much of it is proscribed, punctilious ritual that one can quite easily go through the process using only half a brain, leaving the other half free for more important things. She stopped walking and looked at the people milling about her. Perhaps that was deliberate, she wondered, because most of the people here appeared to only have half a brain

Elizabeth was, once again, chastising herself for her wicked thoughts when she drifted into a conversation that caught her ear. Surreptitiously she joined the edge of a group of five men engaged in a discussion that appeared to be building in intensity

"I tell you they have gone too far! Something must be done before our liberties are eroded to nothing. We will all wake from our slumber one morning and find our freedoms taken from us - leaving us nothing but taxed, indentured slaves to the King and the House of Lords!"

Elizabeth recognized the speaker as John Otis - a man she regarded as a bit of a rabble-rouser

"Really, Otis," another man interjected. He was in his '40s, frightfully well groomed she thought. "I do think you are getting carried away with yourself. The Stamp Tax is a perfectly reasonable response. How else is the King going to afford to pay for an army and a navy to defend England's far-flung colonies?"

"The Americas are lands of freedom and opportunity, Mr. James," Otis fixed his gaze upon him, "we have no need of a war machine. Quite the reverse - a standing army is the first step to tyranny!"

"Of course, John," another man muttered, "and without one you'll soon be doing your business in Francs, not Pounds, I wager."

"We will not be doing any business at all, Spencer, if we are taxed out of profitability," said another. "This Stamp Tax business is a damnably untoward way of going about it - slipping it in the backdoor really. I think it's just the tip of the iceberg."

"The amount of taxation is not the point, Robert," Otis started up again, "the point is that taxes should not be arbitrarily imposed without likewise giving a franchise in the political process. No taxation without representation should be our cry! Why should we pay for a system that we are not allowed to be part of. What has happened to the democratic ideals of the mother country, won by the people at such great cost last century? Buried under the greed and incompetence of the King and his aristocratic parasites!"

Elizabeth could take no more - the insult to King George was too much

"I believe you go too far, Mr. Otis! You would do well to remember that we are all the King's most loyal subjects - just because we are at a great distance from our spiritual homeland does not mean that we are any less English citizens. We should seek to maintain those high standards of thought, not descend into petty debates on why we should be allowed to enjoy all the benefits of the protection and support of the English Crown, yet not pay any of the costs. That, sir, would surely make you a parasite?"

There was a silence as the five men stared down at her

"Well, yes, that was very interesting, my dear," Mr. James began, "Ahhh..."

"I say," Spencer stepped in as James began to flounder, "you are quite an excitable young lady, aren't you? Had a bit too much to drink perhaps?" There was an amused smile on his lips

Otis and Elizabeth continued to glare at each other. As for the others - one rolled his eyes, one took a bored sip from his glass, and one stared at her blankly as though she had just spoken in an alien tongue. The other one, Spencer, was staring at her too, but not at her face

Elizabeth started slightly as a large pair of hands clasped her shoulder from behind. She relaxed when she heard her father's voice - then flushed as she heard what he had to say

"Now gentlemen," he began in his warm, rumbling tone, "has my daughter been bothering you, by any chance?"

He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. She sagged inside, defeated by this familial betrayal

"Oh no, Mr. Chalmers," Otis began, "her opinions are... quite delightful."

"Why thank you, Mr. Otis," he replied politely, "you are too kind. Now if you'll excuse her, I'm sure Elizabeth has many other guests to attend to. Don't you, Elizabeth?"

She smiled wanly. He turned her away from the circle, gave her a slight push and set her on her way. Elizabeth attempted to walk in the most dignified pose she could muster, but knew her burning cheeks gave her anger away

Thomas Chalmers turned back to the group, a polite smile on his face

"I would ask you gentlemen to restrict your topic of discussion to something more appropriate for this mixed social gathering. We don't want to bore or confuse the ladies on such a night as this, do we now?"

"Of course not, Thomas," Mr. James said earnestly, his associates nodding agreement in unison. "I quite agree with your sentiment."

"I knew such intelligent and well-mannered gentlemen such as yourself would understand. Now, if you'll excuse me." He broadened his smile, bowed his head and left their company, searching for his daughter

The men bowed their heads in polite acknowledgment and watched his back recede

One laughed a short, sharp laugh of derision. The rest followed his lead

"Good Lord, what a tiresome child! Is she always like that?"

"In my limited contact with her - yes. And in case you hadn't noticed she's hardly a child - she just talks like one." Robert gave them all a meaningful look. "She lacks practical experience of the world, you see."

"Mmmm, I wouldn't mind giving her some 'practical experience', for sure."

They grinned conspiratorially, the recently divided group united by an implicit understanding than men naturally forge when the discussion turns to that of the opposite sex

"Yes, she really is a prize - but she has no idea of what her mouth is really intended for."

"Quite."

"I understand that the young Braxton whelp has the inside running on her."

"Really? Sensible from an economic viewpoint, but...Braxton! She will run roughshod over the little toad and make him a laughing stock. Even more so than he is already."

"Indeed. It's the parent's I blame though. They've obviously been too soft on the poor dear. Too much education and not enough thrashings when she spoke out of turn."

They nodded in unison, each lost in a private fantasy as they watched Elizabeth debate something with her father

"Now, where were we?"

"Ahhh, let me see - it went: taxation, the King, parasites, thrashing young ladies..."

They laughed like schoolboys

"Spencer - don't be such a wag!"

"Awfully sorry, old man," said Spencer through his grin, not in the least bit contrite. "Hullo, here's an idea - how's about we retire for cigars and brandy?"

"Capital idea, my man, capital!"

* * * * *

Elizabeth did not respond this time as a hand clasped itself firmly onto her left shoulder.

"How are you then, my lovely sweet daughter?"

"Successfully humiliated, thank you, Pa'pa."

"Oh, don't be like that. A young lady of your standing should not be seen debating politics with the likes of John Otis and company

She half-turned and looked up at her father's face. Thomas Chalmers had not been born into money; he had worked hard all his life to achieve the position of relative wealth and status he now held. His speech still contained the distinctive inflection of working class origins in the English midlands. Thomas' father had decided to escape their destiny of grinding rural poverty and had purchased berths on a ship to the Americas for him, his wife, Thomas and his daughter. Thomas had been twelve years old when they arrived. To say life had been tough on arrival in the new world would be an understatement - Thomas' mother and father were dead within five years. He had to support both himself and his beloved younger sister Mary any way he could. Thomas was not proud of some of the things he had done to get where he was today, but they been necessary. His sister had died twenty-two years ago in labor - her child had survived, something that he had never told Elizabeth. He was not in any way ashamed of his origins and did not try to hide them. Instead they were a source of pride for him. Nevertheless, his gruff voice stood in marked contrast to those refined speech patterns of his daughter, who had benefited from the best education Thomas Chalmers could afford. As far as Thomas was concerned Elizabeth was his daughter, and in her he saw the living image of Mary. He was determined to give Elizabeth the life he hadn't managed to give Mary

"Why not? This is the 1760s you know, Pa'pa, not the 1660s. We live in modern times." Her face was set in an expression of outraged defiance, small fists clenched

Yes, that was Mary all right, the memories always flooded back to him when Elizabeth adopted that look. "Why not?" he echoed her. "Because that is the way of things, and I'll ask you not to look at me in that tone of voice."

Her determination to be upset with her father crumbled and she smiled in spite of herself, in spite of knowing what was coming next. It had been a recurring topic of conversation for a year now

"I saw you talking to young Jonathon Braxton before. He seemed quite animated. You must have a way with him," he continued

"A way indeed, Pa'pa." She braced herself

"He's a nice boy. Good connections." Thomas Chalmers shuffled slightly. "You know you're 22 now, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth gently gritted her teeth, "Yes, Pa'pa"

"It's, ahhh...time to think about marrying and settling down. Raising a family, making your dear ol' Ma'ma and Pa'pa proud."

Elizabeth said nothing, but remained attentive

"Now I'd be the last one to push you into anything, of course."

"Of course, Pa'pa."

"But you know that young Jonathon is coming up to his 21st birthday next month."

"I had heard a rumor to that effect, Pa'pa."

"Don't be clever with me, my girl, you're not so old that I can't take you across my knee anytime I choose."

"Yes, Pa'pa."

He smiled warmly and gripped her across both shoulders, hugging her to him. She accepted the hug, a grin breaking across her face

"Well, it's just that we worry about you, and he is such a nice, well to do lad. You couldn't go far wrong with him, you know."

"I understand, Pa'pa. Really I do."

"Good, girl. Now I best be off, I have some business to attend to with young Jonathon's father. You enjoy the rest of your evening now. Understand?"

He pinched her nose gently and, with one last squeeze, slipped into the crowd. Elizabeth watched his tall figure make its way through the throng, until he disappeared around the corridor leading to the back rooms

Another long slow breath escaped her body. Little did Pa'pa know that she had just signaled to Jonathon that she was some sort of socially backward dullard. Oh dear! Her earlier feelings returned in greater force. She needed to retire somewhere to think. Maybe if she went outside she could find a suitably large hole to bury herself in. It seemed the only decent thing to do after tonight

* * * * *

Jonathon Braxton trudged through the party crowd, head down, a feeling of disconsolation spreading through his body. How could he could he be so stupid! Embarrassing himself in front of Elizabeth with that awful rambling monologue about his father blasted business affairs. He had practiced a thousand times in the mirror before tonight! How had the conversation come to that? He was grateful she had managed to stay awake through it all. It was a far cry from the suave, sophisticated and commanding performance he had practiced! And her reaction to his 21st - she looked like she'd rather shovel horse dung than attend!

His glass was empty and he resolved to refill it - many times in fact before the end of the night. Perhaps that would help him to divine exactly what it is one is supposed to say to girls. Lost in his maudlin thoughts he walked right into a tall gentleman of solid build. He looked up, startled, and gazed into the man's square-jawed face and penetrating green eyes. He looked to be at least six foot and was broad about the shoulders - an imposing frame. Jonathon was only slightly taller than Elizabeth (another blow against him, he groaned!) and barely made 5' 4"

The stranger stared at him with a curious half-smile on his face. Jonathon stared back, his gaze locked on those deep green eyes

Eventually the stranger spoke. "Hi."

"Ummm, hello." Jonathon swallowed nervously

The stranger stared at him some more

"Uhhh, can I help you with something, by any chance?"

"I doubt it. How'd you go over there?"

"P-pardon?"

"Talking to the lady, y'know. Was she...receptive?"

"Well, I don't believe it's really any of your business, actually."

"Oh, go on with you. You can tell me, man to man." The stranger winked conspiratorially, flashing a grin

There was something about those eyes that seemed to tell Jonathon that he could trust this man; that it was fine to chat about such things to a total stranger

"Well," he began, "I think maybe it didn't go quite as well as I had planned, and..."

The change in the stranger's demeanor was instantaneous. In a flash he whipped his faces inches away from Jonathon's, a rictus snarl on his lips

"And you keep it that way, you little piece of shit! Do you understand me?! Do you?!!"

The savage change in the other's countenance took Jonathon by complete surprise, but it was something else that sent a numbing chill of fear down his spine. A flash of something primeval flickered within Jonathon's soul, telling him to flee, to run and abandon all and anything around him in a desperate quest to preserve his self. Jonathon staggered back, face pale, eyes wide but still locked into the stranger's malevolent gaze. He bumped into someone behind him, spilling Port onto his new suit. The instinctive turn to meet the obstruction broke his contact with the stranger's orbs, enabling him to take his first breath in an eternity. Stammering apologies to all around him, he half ran and half staggered away, trying to burn from his mind the memory of what he had seen behind those green eyes

Jonathon found himself out on the front lawn, not knowing how he had got there. His body heaved and he threw up. Wiping the slime from his mouth he began to run, fleeing blindly through the darkened streets of Boston

* * * * *

"Hmmm, what a strange little chap," remarked the stranger to the few onlookers who had seen Jonathon's panicked flight. "I think he drank a bit to much and had to...you know." The stranger made suggestive regurgitating motions and grinned. A couple of men watching laughed knowingly and turned back their conversations. The stranger turned and spied a lady in her '50s who was watching, mildly stunned by the scene

He grasped her hand lightly and bent to kiss it. "Enchante, Madame," he murmured, gazing up at her from her hand

She smiled demurely, and allowed him to maintain his grip. He flashed a perfect smile. "Now if you will excuse me my lady, I have business to attend to."

She nodded her ascent, and with that he disappeared into the crowd. Within seconds the event was forgotten and the guests returned to their polite conversation

* * * * *

Elizabeth stood on the back porch and gazed into the darkness. The stars winked down upon her, mocking her with their illimitable, ageless wisdom. They seemed to hold a secret amongst their glittering bodies, some vast unspoken truth, and taunted her for her lack of insight. Her eyes lingered upon them, lost in thought, trying to glean what truth it was she was missing

She was dragged back to herself by the sound of a boot scraping on the floor behind her. Startled, she turned. A dark-haired man stood there, tall and broad shouldered, with piercing green eyes. He gazed upon her, a strange half smile upon his lips. Seconds past in silence; Elizabeth was too surprised to find her voice. Then he spoke

"Hi, Wil."

Her mouth flapped a couple of times before it emitted any sound

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Why?" He seemed perplexed

"You seem to have mistaken me for someone else, my...my name is Elizabeth Chalmers."

He stared at her a few seconds more, his eyebrows raised a fraction. Then the smile returned, broader then before

"Of course it is. I meant Hi. Will. As in my name is Will. Will I am. William, in fact."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. She tried to maintain her bearing and regain some measure of control over the situation

"And can I help you with something, Will? Are you lost?"

"Yes. No." More silence ensued

This whole episode was beginning to feel unreal. Nervous, Elizabeth folded her hand across her chest. The movement had the effect of drawing Will's eyes downward - they remained locked about the level of her cleavage. They remained there through the ensuing silence. Disturbed, Elizabeth moved her arms back to their original position at her sides. Will's eyes did not move. Elizabeth now felt exposed, and crossed her arms back over her chest, higher this time. To say she felt uncomfortable hardly described the situation; she felt a flush color her cheeks. Her state was not helped when Will took a step closer to her, and then another - the smile gone from his face, his hypnotic green eyes now upon hers. He was close enough to smell. Something within her refused to allow her to step back. Elizabeth set her jaw firmly, and then spoke

"I'm afraid I don't really follow your line of inquiry. And I must say I find your manner offensive, sir!" She hoped the indignity in her voice sounded convincing

Apparently it did not. She became aware of the closeness of his body, and gazed up at him into his deep green eyes. Elizabeth held that penetrating gaze; it seemed a battle of wills passed between them but somehow she was unaware of its nature. After a time his face relaxed and the half-smile returned

"You haven't changed my dear...Elizabeth."

"Really, sir, I must ask you to leave or I shall have to call my Father."

He responded to the challenge by stepping closer still, until his chest almost touched her. Elizabeth remained rooted to the spot, refusing to give an inch with a temerity that surprised her

She had cause to regret her resolve soon though, as his hands reached up and took her by the arms, forcing them down to her sides with an inexorable strength. She gasped, unable to form a proper sound. The man dragged her to him; their bodies were pressed together, his hands sliding across her back. A tingling warmth formed upon her breasts and spread throughout her chest, slithering down to her groin. She gasped again, though this time it had a strangled quality to it. The strange figure began to grind against her body, pressing hips against hers. With the side of her faced pressed against his chest, Elizabeth felt she could barely draw breath. This was all too unreal!

A determined power surged through and she found her will again. Pressing her hands against his she pushed with all her might, crying, "Get away from me, you lecherous pig!"

She pushed him back with an ease that surprised her, given his relative bulk.

The big man fell back two paces and regarded her, the seemingly ever-present grin in its wider variety

"This is an outrage, sir!" she continued on, the heat of her anger replacing the heat she had felt a few moments before. "I demand you apologize and leave this instant!"

"And if I don't?"

"Then I shall be forced to call for my father and that, sir, you would regret most gravely!"

He cocked his head to one side and appeared to be lost in thought. Elizabeth's heart beat in her chest like a startled jackrabbit, but she was determined not to let her fear show. He slowly straightened his head and spoke

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we? That could get...messy."

He paused for effect. She tried to look unimpressed. If he was disappointed with her lack of response he didn't let it show

"Now if you'll excuse me," he continued, "I have things to attend to." He bowed slightly and turned to leave, then stopped. "By the by, would you know the location of the local house of worship?"

"Of course! I am to be found there every Sunday morning, amongst the decent folk of this town." Actually it was a relief that he asked about the local church, it put something normal and sane in her mind, and it implied that this stranger might actually be a decent fellow underneath all his rude manners

She gave him the directions and then asked, "I take it you intend to be at Sunday service?"

"If you insist," he laughed and her relief proved to be short-lived. "But first I thought I might have some sport with your local priest. They're often so easy to send over the edge that it's not much of a challenge, but what can I say? Existence has been complicated recently and I need something to work off the...stress."

Elizabeth's mouth lay open, her eyes wide with shock. Had she heard correctly?

"And then I'll be back to fuck you 'till the end of time itself."

He smiled once again, but this time the expression was cold, distant, and something moved behind those eyes, something... Before Elizabeth could understand what she had seen he had turned and disappeared up the path around the side of the house, and the thought was gone

Elizabeth stood there for a full minute, unmoving. Had that really happened? It can't have been real! If it was he must have been an escapee from the lunatic asylum - the things he said just before he left about having "sport" with Father O'Connell?! She knew the Father was an avid cricket fan but she didn't think he played any more, not at his age. And what "...fuck you 'till the end of time itself," meant she wasn't sure but she jolly well assumed it wasn't meant to be taken as a compliment

Should she dismiss this lunatic or should she tell Pa'pa about it? Elizabeth stood there in the half-shadows and thought for a moment. No, she wouldn't tell Pa'pa, or anyone for that matter. She didn't want to create a stir over nothing. And beside, Pa'pa was already, in her opinion, over protective of her. If he found out about this she might never be allowed to go anywhere alone for years

Elizabeth turned and went back into the house. She paused in the hallway and weighed up whether to return to the ball, or seek solace by herself to think over her encounter. After only a second's thought she moved toward the staircase to her bedroom. She had done enough social damage for one night and now needed to think. And actually, thinking about it, the whole affair on the back porch was starting to seem much less disturbing now and much more like an exciting adventure! She giggled at her own audaciousness and started to bound up the stairs two at a time, eager to get to her diary

Chapter 2

Her long, lithe body hung there, floating as though upon a sea of air. A light sheen of sweat covered the length of her nakedness, glistening under the harsh glare of the overhead lights as she slowly twisted left then right. She groaned softly under the leather mask that encased her head and shut out all sensation - save for that of the hooks

With neither sight nor sound, the sensations of the over six hundred hooks embedded in her flesh were all that there was for her. The curved silver spikes were everywhere upon her, piercing her body from her feet to her abdomen, to her breasts and outstretched arms. The cruel metal tines stretched her skin upwards as she hung, face up, in a pose of horizontal crucifixion. She was suspended there, helpless, from a myriad of almost invisible strands that ran from the flesh hooks to the metal frame attached to the ceiling. Her leather-clad head lolled back - her unseeing face toward wall behind her, as she no longer possessed the strength to raise it

A drop of liquid flowed from the victim's pussy, down the cleft of her buttocks and dripped to the floor - joining the small puddle of juices that already stained the floorboards. She groaned with aching pleasure once more

The suspended, pierced girl moved, kicking her leg gently. The movement increased her gentle rocking motion. The legions of hooks implanted in her increased the tug against her already stretched flesh - her nerves sending waves of electricity flowing through her body. This new rush of sensation was too much - her body began shuddering subtly from the pre-orgasmic spasms. A viscous cycle began as the jerking intensified the sensations, quickly sending her into orgasm. She bounced on the myriad of hooks like a fly caught in a spider's malevolent web. Her motions were too vigorous now, she could not stop her body reacting, the pain became too much and she began to scream under her mask. Sounds of tortured, agonized pleasure filled the room. She climaxed repeatedly

After a time the convulsions abated, the cries receded. Silence fell through the room

The suspended form twisted gently, waiting for the cycle to repeat once more. Anticipating

* * * * *

Two men, of roughly similar height and build, stood and gazed down the main street of Boston. The road bustled with Saturday morning activity and life. A wagon, drawn by a pair of immensely unenthusiastic oxen, lumbered through the muddy, rutted street, loaded with goods.

People were everywhere. Some, dressed in the bright finery of the privileged classes, walked with straight backs and squared shoulders, avoiding wherever possible any contact with the mud and occasional filth that lay on the street. Then there were those that wore the drab garments of the less fortunate members of society. Those people tended to walk with a more rounded back and stooped shoulder - as though the weight of their station in life, the realization that for most of them the future offered nothing but a lifetime of toil for little reward, weighed upon their minds. In between these two extremes lay the middle-classes - those who through hard work and perhaps good fortune had raised themselves above the ranks of the poor, and placed themselves within sight of the rich. These people held a tenuous position in the middle of society, neither rich nor poor, their economic position and so social status fragile and uncertain; at the slightest disaster they might sink down into the ranks of the unfortunates

Flin delivered these observations to the man standing next to him

"Yes, they are remarkably tolerant of hierarchy aren't they," Marcus agreed. "And inequality. Fascinating. It's one thing to be informed about it, another to actually observe the phenomena."

"It is their strength and their weakness."

"True."

They looked upon the scene for some minutes more, both silent and expressionless. The two men were dressed much the same as the others in the street scene they were part of. Their garments were not of the standard of those of the highest echelons of society, but far from the worst. They were both oddly clean though, as though they had just put on freshly washed clothes, not even their trousers were splashed with mud. Otherwise they looked unremarkable

"We must formulate a plan of action," said Flin

"Valid."

"Present some proposals."

"Why not you." Marcus turned his head slightly to look at the figure next to him

"I will play the role of critical reviewer of your action plans. Thus, allowing the rapid development and review of proposed activities."

Some silence ensued while Marcus returned to staring straight ahead

"I await your proposal."

"It is undergoing formulation."

More silence. A small boy paused in front of the two unmoving figures and stared at them for some moments before his mother caught up with him and dragged him off. She muttered apologies to the men. They did not reply

It was Flin who spoke. "In view of your obvious cognitive deficiencies I will present a proposal. I suggest we seek out and overpower likely individuals, take them to a place of seclusion and extract the information from them by exploiting their susceptibility to pain."

"Patently inefficient. Your allegations of cognitive inadequacies appear to be misplaced."

"Specify."

"Much as it may seem otherwise, intra-species violence is securely regulated in most social contexts. We will inevitably attract undue attention to ourselves and thus risk losing contact with the target."

"And your proposal is..."

"One based around a non-intrusive, participant-observation based methodological paradigm, and serendipity."

"You mean we wander around and hope we...'get lucky'. I believe that is the correct expression."

"It is."

Flin took almost exactly one minute to reply

"Acceptable, until a more comprehensive action proposal is tabled."

Without any apparent further communication between the two, they began to walk down the street - one looking to the left, one to the right

* * * * *

The tall man stepped out from the alleyway with he had been using as cover while observing the two men; two strangely still figures amidst the bustle of the Saturday market

"Now that could be a problem," he muttered to no-one in particular

The targets of his observations had disappeared down the street by now, and he stared hard after them for a while more. Then he snapped out of his reverie, and the grin returned to his face

"Now where was I? Ahhh, yes - here priesty, priesty, priesty..."

He turned and set off down the street, in the opposite direction to the two men, heading towards the church spire visible over the houses. A few of occupants of the street scene paused long enough to glance at the large figure, giggling inanely as he passed, before returning to the more important issues that occupied their lives

* * * * *

Elizabeth waited patiently as the crowd began to file into the church. The atmosphere was still crisp with the Sunday morning air and a slight dew lay on the grass. The throng consisted of largely familiar faces and she acknowledged polite inquiries into her health and general well being in a socially appropriate manner

Two men stood apart from the crowd, motionless, and made no move to join the rest of the churchgoers and enter the building

Mr. Chalmers put his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and gently guided her forward. He had his other arm around her mother, and, even though she enjoyed the familial closeness of the moment, Elizabeth feigned irritation

"Oh, Pa'pa! Must you treat me like a child? I am 22 you know."

He laughed in response, but it was her mother that spoke for him

"Oh 22 is it? Well, young lady, when you're married and set up in your own home with a husband to look out for, well then you may call yourself grown-up. Until that day you'll show your father some respect."

"Maud, don't be so hard on the child," Mr. Chalmers laughed gently, "she's just doing what's natural for a girl her age - wants to show she's moving on in the world, eh pumpkin?"

Elizabeth's cheeks burned at the use of her childhood nickname in such a public forum

"Please, Pa'pa!" she hissed, "You are deliberately trying to embarrass me!"

Her father laughed again and hugged them both tighter as they entered the church

As they seated themselves Elizabeth noticed that Father O'Connell was not at the pulpit, rather the Verger, Mr. Timms, was standing in his place. Verger Timms began by explaining that Father O'Connell had taken ill quite recently and would be unable to give today's sermon. However, if the community would permit it, he would do so in the Father's stead. The expected murmur of ascent went through the assembled crowd and he began

It quickly became apparent to Elizabeth that Verger Timms was a very boring sermonizer

* * * * *

The stranger who called himself Will, seated in the last row of church pews, watched the back of Elizabeth's head as it began to tilt forwards, her attention on the sermon waning. Clearly she wasn't finding her god's exploits enthralling

"Curious," he thought, "If it was my god I would be riveted to these stories. Mainly because if my god found out I wasn't listening my existence wouldn't be worth having. Perhaps these people's god is more forgiving?" It didn't sound like it from what the Verger was saying though. Odd

His face took on a look of concentration, staring in Elizabeth's direction. The verger droned on, something about turning people into salt. "Good idea," he thought vaguely, only half listening, "must remember that one."

Elizabeth's head snapped up slightly, as though she had just woken from sleep. He could see her cheeks were flushed red. Her hand went to her mouth in a shocked gesture. He smiled as he guessed what that meant

"Come on, baby. I know you're in there. We haven't got eternity - I can see your flesh sack decaying before my eyes."

Elizabeth appeared to look intently at the Verger, and then to the left and to the right

"Good girl. She's done the math - as she used to say." He grinned to himself at the cleverness of his own thoughts. "Now look."

Elizabeth's head turned and she scanned behind her, her eyes stopped and she stared intently at him for several seconds, her eyebrows raised. He stared back, the grin slowly broadening. Elizabeth quickly turned back to facing the front. Her mother to her right glanced at her, before returning her attention to the Verger, who appeared to be building up to a climax. Elizabeth's father had not moved; he was either enthralled by the Verger or somehow managing to sleep with his head upright

Elizabeth cast one more look behind her at him. Will raised his eyebrows in a querying expression. Elizabeth remained steadfastly forward looking for the remainder of the Verger's sermon. Still gazing at the back of her head, but less intently now, he took out of metal hip flask with the inscription "To my esteemed colleague Tony O'Connell" inscribed on it and took a swig of the strong liquid it contained. A worshipper to his left quietly "'Ahem-ed" at him. Will took the flask away from his lips at looked at the offending "Ahem-er"

"It's medicinal," Will explained, sounding slightly affronted, "it helps me come to grips with this thing you call reality."

The man, obviously unsure of what to make of that, returned his attention to the Verger, who was in the dying throws of hellfire and such the like. Will thought he didn't sound particularly well informed as to the realities of his subject, but then they never did

* * * * *

Elizabeth's head sank forward as she drifted away from the service and into her own thoughts. Random images floated into her mind, of things past, things present, and things that had to be. The pew in front of her went from sharply detailed to fuzzy as her eyes glazed over

* * * * *

She was stretched out on her back, on a bed, its soft, yielding warmth comforting. She could not move her arms and legs. Of course, they were bound to the bed, her naked body forming an inverted 'Y'. This situation didn't strike her as odd because her body felt warm and safe and... aroused. A large form moved and straddled her chest, crushing her breasts. She could plainly see the chiseled muscles on his powerful thighs and abdomen. His engorged penis was within inches of her face - and as her gaze fell upon it she felt it to be a beautiful thing. One of his hands guided his member toward her mouth while the other cradled the back of her head, lifting her up and towards it. She knew she wanted it - desperately. Opening her mouth greedily, she felt the smooth sensation of his member sliding into her, the sweet foul taste of it. Her tongue began to work, slowly at first then increasingly busy. He groaned and started to slide it back and forth inside her beautiful mouth, deliciously degrading her with each thrust

* * * * *

Elizabeth's head snapped up and she gave a slight gasp. Oh my Lord, what a daydream - those disgusting nightmares were starting to intrude on her waking times! Her hand went to cover her mouth - she could almost taste that... thing! What foul depravity had she dreamt up - and in the house of the Lord too! What was wrong with her? It couldn't be that her disgusting dreams were starting to invade her day! She would have to find some form of penance to drive these unclean thoughts from her mind - if Father O'Connell found out what went on in her head...

Father O'Connell! Where was Father O'Connell?! Sick?

The strangers words at the ball floated back into her mind, "...have some sport with your local priest."

The blood in her veins went icy cold and thoughts of her recent daydream disappeared. Oh my good Lord, it couldn't possibly be true! Was that curious man still here?

Elizabeth turned and searched the faces in the church and found him almost immediately. Her gaze settled upon the stranger's face, his twisted grin growing as he stared back at her

She abruptly turned back to the front

"Please pay attention to the Verger, darling," muttered her Mother

"Yes, Ma'ma," she replied automatically

Her mind raced with the possibilities. Perhaps she had imagined it? One more quick look behind her showed that it was true. He was there, and still staring right at her!

She fixed her gaze on the Verger but her mind was a rush of thoughts and emotions. Could it be true, had he done something to Father O'Connell, or was it merely a coincidence? Bloody hell!

Please don't swear, she silently told herself - it's not very ladylike

* * * * *

As the satisfied attendees filed out of the church, Elizabeth searched the crowd for that face. She did not find it, but those two men were still there in exactly the same place as before. Ordinarily this would have been regarded as strange, but today Elizabeth was mightily distracted and their existence passed from her attentions as she continued her furious search for the man who called himself Will. She was out on the lawns of the church grounds, only vaguely aware of her parents discussing the content of today's sermon, when something made her turn around and look back

There he was, leaning against the side of the church, drinking from a metal flask. He was staring straight at her and Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment. She made up her mind

"Oh, Pa'pa - could I take a moment to see the Verger, I would like to inquire as to poor Father O'Connell's health and wish him well."

She looked up into her father's weathered face

Thomas considered the request for a moment. "Well, I suppose so. What do you think, Mother?"

Maud Chalmers looked doubtful for a moment, but then remembered that it was a priest's health after all

"I suppose so, we'll wait for you here."

"Oh please don't wait up for me. I would rather like to take some air and walk home - after all, it is a lovely day."

Her parent's exchanged glances, her mother's brow furrowing, her father's raised his eyebrows at mother

"Well, Lucy," he said, "she is 22 you know. That's almost grown up."

"Hmmmph, well," there was clearly a mighty internal debate occurring within Elizabeth's mother, "I suppose so."

"There you go then. Now run and give Verger our best regards."

"Yes, Pa'pa," she said gratefully, "and thank you, Ma'ma."

Both her parent's smiled, her mother somewhat more doubtfully than her father though

Elizabeth turned and, gathering her full dress around her, began to walk quickly back to the church. Her heart leapt as she thought of her frightfully clever ruse, and then sank as it occurred to her that she had just betrayed her parent's trust

"Bother," she thought, "why is everything so complex and never clear-cut like in stories?"

Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers made their way toward their buggy; Mrs. Chalmers quietly berating Mr. Chalmers for falling asleep in church again as they went

* * * * *

Elizabeth entered the dimmed interior of the Church, turned just inside the entrance and watched from the darkness as her parents mounted their buggy and began to drive off down the road

A voice from behind startled her

"Elizabeth, my dear child. Can I help you?"

It was the Verger

"Oh, yes, Verger, ahhhh, just wanted to say delightful sermon you gave today. Quite enjoyed it really. Ummm, especially the ummm...the ahhh...the bit about all those people being killed by God. For whatever reason it was. I can't remember the reason just now, but I'm quite sure God had a frightfully good one. After all, he would haaaardly go round slaughtering whole cities of men, women and children just for a laugh now would he? I should jolly well expect they deserved everything they got!"

She gave a short, girly little laugh

"Well, yes...yes, of course, God is after all ineffable and I don't think..."

"Yes, exactly my point Verger, exactly. Couldn't have said it better myself! Now do give my regards to Father O'Connell won't you - and God too, of course. Oh, gosh is that the time? Loved chatting with you Verger but must run. I do believe Ma'ma and Pa'pa are waiting for me."

This had all come out as a frightful babble and, as Elizabeth dashed back out of the church entrance, the Verger looked somewhat dumbfounded

"Well my, the youth of today. They grow up so fast you know," the Verger somberly intoned to himself "It's not like in my day when the children had real respect for authority."

He shook his head sadly and shuffled back to his office

* * * * *

Marcus and Flin observed the young girl in the light blue dress break away from the two older individuals she was with (her genetic precursors presumably, noted Flin. Marcus nodded in agreement). Her long blonde locks caught the sunlight as she moved hurriedly back to the church

"The indigenous personnel appear to have all but returned to their domiciles."

"There is still some native presence."

"The probability of valid data gathering in this context has dropped to unacceptably low levels."

"I concur."

"I put forward that the serendipitous observation methodology so far employed is proving to be unacceptably inefficient."

"This is possible."

"Increasingly salient temporal constraints indicate we should expedite the development of a more overt action plan."

"Specify."

Flin was silent

"Specify," Marcus repeated

"We agreed that action plan development was your area of functional authority. I review said proposals."

Marcus turned slightly and looked at Flin for a long moment, before returning to gazing at the Church. The girl in the blue dress had reappeared, as she scampered down the wooden stair leading to the church, her white-cottoned ankles flashing as she disappeared around the corner. Marcus reflected for a moment

"Does that appear to be in any way strange to your perceptions," he said

It was Flin's turn to look at Marcus for a long moment

* * * * *

Elizabeth, hitching her skirt up as far as decency would allow, dashed around the side the church. Will had disappeared from sight but she knew he wouldn't have gone far. She rehearsed what she was going to say to him in her mind. By God she was going to give a jolly good talking to, that was for sure!

Now she rounded the corner and there he was, standing near the back of the church with that blasted grin still on his face. Elizabeth felt the outrage grow in her. She stalked up to him and let fly

"Right you, now what have you done to nice old Father O'Connell?"

"I showed him his truth."

"Eh? Enough of your gobbledygook, sir, you are a rotter and a scoundrel who should be..."

As she was gesticulating at him during her tirade he, with such lightning speed that her mind barely registered the movement, grasped her by the wrists and pushed her back against the church wall, pinning her arms above her head

This unexpected course of events completely deflated her sense of moral outrage. His body pressed along the length of hers, her breasts crushed against his solidity

"Oh...oh...ahhh, please stop that. I say - you...you're hurting me."

"I'll teach you to enjoy it."

He continued to grind against her. The sensation was... unusual

"Look, if you don't..."

Another protest died stillborn as he shifted position explosively, his powerful hands moved down to her thighs - grasped them firmly and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his torso. It was as though she weighed nothing. The back of her head bumped against the wooden wall of the church, causing her to cry out. Her hands had instinctively rested upon his broad shoulders in a feeble attempt to push him away

This was a position she had never been in within any man. The closest she had been to this was with her pillows on her bed at home, late at night. That, she concluded as he began to nuzzle her neck, did not prepare one for an event such as this

With her legs extended out in front of her, and his 'attentions' starting to get increasingly vigorous, panic began to creep into Elizabeth's mind, and the ability to think rationally left with it. He now had one hand under her ass and the other supported and rubbed against her back - he began to move her up and down slightly in a motion that she recognized. She was not entirely the innocent her parent's believed her to be - she had read about what goes on and understood how things... developed. Now her blood froze as she felt her groin rub against a lump that hadn't been there before. The realization of how much trouble she was in struck home, and terror gave her a voice

"Please...please, what do you want of me?"

He paused in incessant nuzzling and licking of her neck and shoulders and looked at her, his lips now inches from hers. She could feel his breath mingling with her own. He spoke with a softness she had not heard from him before

"I want to fuck your body. I torture you for eternity in an agony of ecstasy the likes of which your mind cannot comprehend. I want to rip your soul from your broken body. And I want to hear you beg for me to do these things to you over and over again."

She stared at him, her lips quivering, her mind only partially registering what he had said

"Oh...I see. Ummm...I'd rather that you didn't." She struggled ineffectually. "Please...please, don't."

"That's what you always say. But I know your truth."

She was helpless now and begging. Control of the situation had slipped far away and all avenues of escape seemed cut-off. Where was Pa'pa? Where was her voice to scream? She felt hot tears on her face

His expression grew cold as his both hands moved down to her rear and began to fumble with her undergarments. He pushed her skirt and petticoats up to her waist, above her long white stockings, tied above her knees with pink ribbons. Her firm thighs were exposed in a public place for the first time in her life. Inane thoughts about what this would do to her reputation if she were discovered in this position crossed her mind. Some part of her said it was better to let him do this to her than allow her reputation, and that of her family's, to be destroyed by such a finding. She really didn't know what to do now

She felt his hand tearing and pulling at her undergarments, felt her slip tear and now the sensation of a man's rough hands on her rear end, felt him explore her ass cheeks and cleft of her buttocks

She pushed feebly at him once more, and her eyes looked to the heavens, where she knew the stars were hiding. Was God really up there? Why didn't he help her?

* * * * *

He fumbled at Elizabeth's undergarments with an increasingly desperate passion. Normally this was not like him, he was usually devoted a lot of time to foreplay terror but this was no ordinary girl. He could feel the energy and was so close to it that it drove him to fervor

Shit, undergarments are complex in this age! How the blazes were these people expected to reproduce wearing all this? Finally, and after a distinct lack of subtlety, he began to make progress and felt the delicious sensation of her firm young buttocks in his hands. His erection was threatening to burst out of his trousers on its own; he had better do something to relieve that pressure quick. He held her up with one arm under her perfect ass and the other began fumbling at his trousers

"Azrael," Elizabeth's voice was cold, calm. "Look at me, Azrael."

"Huh, what now?" It took a second for the icy tone of her voice to register in his passion-addled mind, and he looked up before he thought about it

His victim's pretty face was a twisted mask of controlled rage. Those innocent blue eyes were ice-cold now and it was Azrael's turn to be locked into that gaze

"Would you like a kiss before we start then?"

"No, I thought I'd just fuck you," replied Azrael hopefully, his mind just about caught up with the change in her demeanor

Elizabeth's forehead crashed into the bridge of Azreal's nose with an audible crunch, bone breaking under the impact. Azrael dropped her and staggered back - she landed with her legs slightly bent, ready

"Bitch!"

His huge fist snapped out towards her head, but she had anticipated his response - ducking and swaying to the left and hearing wood splinter behind her under a mighty impact. She snapped three quick punches into Azrael's exposed right ribcage, shoulder moving to give maximum power to each shot. His arm snapped back down to protect his exposed flank, also exactly as expected and she rocked to her right side, twisting her torso and delivered an explosive punch - smashing the heel of her right hand into Azrael's damaged nose

He cried out and staggered backwards, holding his face in both hands

"Oh, huwo dere, Wil," he said after a few moments, "gud to zee yew are back again."

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"

"Well I jus fought dat if I could give yew a bid ov a shock..."

Her foot lashed out and caught him in the groin. He let out a strangled squeak and sank to his knees

"You were going to rape me! Fucking rape me!! You know you need permission! If you do me without permission it don't count, got it?"

Azrael nodded - looking up at her he seemed almost childlike in his contrition

"I sobby."

"Like shit you are! As usual you were going to get your fucking rocks off. And as usual it was gonna be at my fuckin' expense!"

Azrael's bloodied face broke into a smile

"What the fuck have you go to smile about!"

"You look so sweet in that dress. It just makes me wanna," he looked at her visualizing, "rip it off you and...you know. Oh good, my nose seems to have healed."

Her face softened from its snarl

"Awww, how nice of you to say. Hey, what's that over there?"

She pointed behind him and his head snapped around

"I don't see anything, just some houses and a cow..."

As he turned to face her, a flying foot caught him square on the nose, smashing it once more. He gave a short scream and flopped onto his back, gasping

"Sweet my ass, you cocksucker. You ever call me sweet again and I will..." She ran out of threats as she remembered the limited options she had against him. "Well, I'll do something that's for fuckin' sure. Asshole."

She turned and stomped off, leaving Azrael positioning his nose in an attempt to get it to set straight

"I fink dear is sum fings I should be delling yew about wot az 'appened."

"Later, asshole, 'cause right now the way you're talking reminds me of Jar Jar fuckin' Binks and being reminded of that sorry excuse for a fuckin' character is really pissing me off. You come and see me later when I've calmed down an' maybe I'll be able to control the screaming urge I have to cut off your worthless testicles!"

She whirled and disappeared around the corner of the church, still muttering and cursing under her breath

"Oooh," groaned Azrael to himself, "we 'ave made contact."

"At great bersonal 'spense," he added, still holding his nose tenderly. "Everyfing shood be blain salin' frum ear dough. Cum to daddy, baby." He giggled and began to writhe on the ground, one hand massaging his groin. Then he sat bolt upright, an intense look on his face

"Ssit!"

* * * * *

They stood there for some time more, while Flin waited patiently for Marcus to produce an operational plan for him to critique

The girl who had disappeared behind the church some minutes ago hadn't yet returned

"Please expedite your calculations. Our bodies are dehydrating in this heat."

"Noted."

There was a sharp crack from behind the church, followed by a cry of pain, raised voices and another cry of pain. Very soon the girl in the blue dress appeared. Her head was down and she was muttering something. The girl was so caught up in her private conversation that she didn't even look up at the two men as she stomped off down the road

"Did you observe that."

"I did."

"Did you note what appeared to be blood on the front of that native's dress."

"I did."

"Would you classify that phenomena as strange to your perceptions."

"I would."

"We should investigate."

"I am responsible for the development of action plans here."

"Really, in the present context that is ridiculously pedantic."

"I am beginning to theorize that you assign task roles in deference to the difficulty of executing them at that time."

"Also ridiculous. Please retain your focus."

"I am beginning to theorize that you have become infected with the human love of hierarchy

"And I am beginning to hypothesize that you have become infected with the human love of infighting and inefficiency."

"You cannot substantiate such an accusation. Now while you were being foolish the girl has left our line of sight."

"Me being foolish. Your attribution system is dangerously flawed."

There was a moment of almost peevish silence

"I propose we investigate the rear of the church."

"I have reviewed the plan and found it be acceptable. Let us proceed."

They began to walk toward the church, in step with each other

* * * * *

Azrael rounded the corner of the church, heard voices coming towards him, spun around and went the other way

"Did you perceive that."

"Yes, there is a native back there," replied Flin

They both broke into a jog and rounded corner of the church. There was no-one there. Footprints were visible in the ground and there was a fist-sized hole in the rear of the church

"Did you obtain an effective look at it."

"Negative. You."

"Negative."

"It must been very quick. Unnaturally so."

"Either that or it used an alternative transportation system."

"Such as matter transportation or dimensional shifting."

"Yes."

"There is no evidence to support such a conclusion. It must remain speculative."

"True. However, the issue of the target's rapid disappearance from view remains unexplained

"Also true."

"The girl."

"Yes. The girl."

"Establishing her location must become a priority. We will seek her out. You can critique that plan by establishing the exact search methodology."

Flin did not immediately reply

"Serendipity."

"Acceptable."

They turned and walked back out to the street and proceeded in the direction that Elizabeth had disappeared

* * * * *

Azrael crouched on the church roof and looked down upon the two figures as they spoke. Some things they said he did not follow but the last part he got. They finished their curious conversation and left. Azrael sat on the roof for some time more, thinking. The situation had become much more complex and he didn't really do complexity. Then the germ of an idea floated into his mind - perhaps Elizabeth was the key after all? Whatever he did, he would have to move fast as he knew it was only a matter of time before they found Wil. And that would be a bad thing, a bad thing indeed

* * * * *

Wil marched down the street, the explosive rage that had taken over her mind cooling. She began to become aware of things around her. Come to think of it, where was she? This wasn't Boston that's for sure. It looked like some backward pissant country town. Perhaps it was one of those religious nut-groups that wanna be all medieval or something? And why was she wearing this fuckin' stupid dress?

Because it was a very nice dress - or was before it became all scrumpled and bloody

Elizabeth paused - what a curious sensation. For a moment there she had been thinking the strangest thoughts. They were fading now and she couldn't quite remember what they were exactly. Her attempted recollections were replaced by an awareness of what had just been. Of what that scoundrel had tried to do. The memory of her helpless situation caused her to draw a sharp breath. She stopped walking and paused to consider why he hadn't...errr, done it, to her. She felt an aching spot on her forehead and reached up

"Owww! Crikey!"

There was a sore lump there, and now she noticed her hands had sore spots. Of course! She knew now - she had fought the swine off!

How exciting!! She hadn't realized she had it in her, but she vaguely remembered hitting him - possibly. Then she remembered the sensation of his bare hands on her naked buttocks and an electric rush went through her. Elizabeth gave a girlish giggle and put her hand to her mouth, half ashamed and half excited by the memory

Gosh what an adventure that had turned out to be - she simply had to get home to her diary! And she was pretty sure she had deduced what the word 'fuck' meant too

Gathering up her skirt around her once again she proceeded to walk as fast as dignity would allow

Chapter 3

Marcus made a small noise in the back of his throat to attract the attention of the shopkeeper. He had observed this action performed by one of the natives and understood it was a socially acceptable method of drawing attention to one's desire for communication. The proprietor of the store looked up from behind his counter where he had been tallying up the day's profits. He was a short, balding man with a full beard. He exuded the manner of one who had been in his profession many years - he had an air that was neither excessively friendly, nor was he overly distant.

"It is an excellent afternoon, proto-capitalist," said Marcus

"Yes, sir," the storeowner replied reflexively, his professionalism showing through in his lack of reaction to the stranger's curious mode of address, "how can I be of service?"

"I am looking for someone."

The shopkeeper looked expectant. There was a strange pause before the man spoke again

"An individual wearing a bloodied, blue dress. Are you aware of any individuals who wear bloodied, blue dresses."

The proprietor's eyes flicked to one side as he considered that inquiry

"Ahhh, no - no-one immediately springs to mind."

Flin grasped Marcus by the elbow and drew him back, away from the shopkeeper

"I believe those variables are transient. The target is easily able to manipulate such particulars in an effort to remain covert. You should instead seek to inquire along global and stable factors."

"Your methodological critique may be valid. Specify proposed variables."

"Gender, age range, socio-economic status, habitual patterns of movement, non-variable genetic endowments."

"Thank you for your input."

Flin inclined his head slightly and Marcus approached the storeowner once more

"Excuse me. I meant to say we are looking for a female, late-teens or early-twenties, of a financially comfortably family, observes Judeo-Christian spiritual traditions and attends associated ritual gatherings, who possess blonde hair and medium sized breasts."

The storekeeper has been digesting that reasonably well until the last detail. He appeared to choke on something

"Excuse me? Medium sized...?" He left the last word unsaid

"Yes. Do you require more specific details as to the nature of the breasts?"

"Ahhh, no, no indeed I don't believe I do," he spluttered, "and I don't believe I know anyone who fits that description."

Marcus was disappointed. This plan appeared to be as inefficient as the recently abandoned serendipity and observation paradigm

Flin dragged him back again and said, "Perhaps offer him resources in exchange for information."

"Weapons. Technology."

"I think disposable income would be most appropriate. Precious metal."

Marcus looked doubtful for a moment but anything seemed possible with these organisms. He returned to the storekeeper

"Allow me to assist your recall processes."

He tossed a pair of gold guineas on to the table. The storekeeper's eyes lit up - at last these two fools were now speaking a language he could understand!

"Well, just between you and me," he began, leaning forward conspiratorially in a marked change of manner, "if it's a young girl you're after you could try down on the waterfront. They'll be a bit more...accessible than the rich crumpet. Those girls keep to their own social circles and don't deign to...'favor' us 'common folk.'" He winked at Marcus

"Socio-economic stratification. I understand." He winked back, clumsily, not really understanding the gesture

"Ahhh, quite," the proprietor said, unsettled slightly. "But if you insist, and what you do to those spoilt little bitches means nothing to me, understand?"

Marcus nodded. Flin continued to gaze out of the store window

"Well, then I know a couple of lasses that might fit that description." He proceeded to give them some names and locations to search in

Marcus thanked him for his time. The merchant nodded and winked again. Marcus did not attempt a second wink; he had resolved to practice the maneuver in private before trying it again in a social context

The two men left the shop and stood in the street, nearby. Noting that no-one was within earshot Flin spoke

"I believe it would be appropriate to liquidate that native. He represents a security risk."

Marcus considered that

"Agreed."

They turned together and went back into the shop

A few minutes later they reappeared and returned to standing in their previous positions. Around twenty seconds passed. It was Marcus who spoke first this time

"I propose that we conceal that native's corpse. We must allow as much time as possible to elapse before it is discovered and attention is brought to the issue."

"Agreed."

"Further, we should appropriate all the readily accessible financial reserves present. This will give a false indicator of motive for the event when the native's body is discovered."

"I admit to being impressed. You are displaying an enhanced plane of strategic planning sophistication."

"Your suggestion to eliminate the native provided the inspiration."

"You are too kind."

They turned once again and re-entered the shop. Later, when they exited the shop, the pair proceeded down the street at an unhurried pace, heading toward the richer sector of the town

They spent the rest of the day silently walking and observing

* * * * *

After confessing all to her most dependable confidante - her diary, Elizabeth had spent her afternoon at her crochet, though mostly she stared out the window

"Life can be a very odd thing," she remarked to Fluff the cat, "it seems for ages nothing happens, or looks like it is going to happen, and then - bam! Everything is turned on its head."

Fluff rolled onto her back and stretched languorously in the last of the afternoon sunlight. Elizabeth obediently scratched under her furry little chin and Fluff began to purr

"Well, thanks for being so understanding," she said to the cat. She stopped scratching and returned to her needlework. Fluff rolled on to her side and gave Elizabeth a betrayed look, as cats are wont to do when their humans display a lack of devotion to their happiness

Soon it was time for dinner, which passed largely in silence. At intervals she was interrogated by her parents as to Father O'Connell's health ("he's bearing up"), how her walk went ("ahhh, it was quite...stimulating, actually") and what she was going to wear to Jonathon Braxton's 21st next month ("Ummm, I don't think my blue dress - I have rather grown bored with it. I might give it to the poor, perhaps?"). For the most part, however, her parents said nothing or talked to each other, a fact for which she was grateful because it seemed that every time she spoke to them now she had to tell some sort of lie

Dinner finished and as the plates and cutlery were cleared away, she asked to be excused, saying she felt quite tired. Permission given, she fled to her room and tried to think what to do next

* * * * *

A tall, broad-shouldered figure made his way through the gathering gloom of the early evening, his feet crunching the gravel underneath them as he walked. The figure paused, looked left then right. After a moments stillness it hurried on, moving at a brisk, purposeful walk

Marcus and Flin peered out from behind the hedge they had sheltered behind

"Definitely suspicious."

"Definitely."

"Did he perceive us."

"I do not believe so."

They waited a few moments more before leaving the cover of the hedge and proceeded after the figure now disappearing into the gloom

* * * * *

Elizabeth changed into her nightgown. The dress she had given to their maid, Gwen, to clean - with some explanation about the bloodstain coming from a poor dog that had been run over in the street, and to "not worry Ma'ma and Pa'pa with it."

Gwen had looked at her dubiously before taking the dress away, but she'd been looking after Elizabeth for many years now and was not in the habit of informing on Elizabeth to her parents. It was Gwen's opinion, unspoken of course, that it would do the poor girl a world of good if she got out into the real world and got herself dirty more often - shagging one of the local lads would probably help too. The moneyed classes, she thought, turn up badly because they coddle their children for too long and fill their heads up with silly ideas. The sooner the girl experienced real life the better, before she went completely silly

But her new master would see to sweet Elizabeth soon enough, she reminded herself

* * * * *

"Dear Lord," Elizabeth thought after Gwen had left, "I am quite the liar these days aren't I?" She couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not. Most likely it was a bit of both

Some of the undergarments she had been wearing that morning were a bit ripped and she decided to dispose of them. She considered chopping them up there and then but on reflection bundled up and hid them in her wardrobe. She didn't want to get rid of them just yet, in fact she found herself looking at the ripped material and remembering. She tested how much strength was required to rip the material that easily and concluded that it was quite a bit. More than she had anyway. She grinned and hugged the slip to herself before packing it away. It was all perfectly safe, she told herself, as it was highly unlikely that that scoundrel would show his face around here again. And if he did, well she'd give him what for again! Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember how she'd given him 'what for' the first time

* * * * *

The figure was harder to spot now in the gathering gloom but Flin and Marcus, despite concluding they had lost him on two separate occasions, managed to keep on his trail

It stopped outside one of the large, well-constructed houses that populated this area. Marcus and Flin stepped back into the cover they had been careful to always stay near. The figure moved with a silky speed to the house and, upon reaching it, seemed to almost fly up the side of the building and on to the roof. It disappeared from sight over the other side of the roof, clearly attempting to move stealthily

"Hmmmm."

"Yes," said Flin

"The church. That organism disappeared so quickly."

"Yes," repeated Flin

"The church also possessed a roof."

"Yes," repeated Flin

"It is curiously difficult to think in three dimensions in this plane of existence."

"Yes, it is," said Flin

"I feel a strange sensation. I believe it might be called embarrassment."

"Yes, it is," repeated Flin

"It is of little consequence. And it is inefficient to overanalyze prior operational performance envelopes."

"Agreed," concurred Flin

"We can however, conclude that the target dwells within that domicile. And I assert that we can be almost certain that she is the target because..."

"...That is not a human being," finished Flin

"Indeed," said Marcus, after a pause

* * * * *

Elizabeth lay on the bed in her peignoir, one of her pillows clutched to her chest. She had this horrible feeling that life was going to return to its former dreariness. Not that she'd been that unhappy with her life before the events of the last few days, but now it definitely seemed... dull. Back to the inevitable Braxton family union she suspected, and a life as a rich merchant's wife. There were worse fates to be sure, but she doubted any were quite as... dull. Dull. Dull. Dull

Assuming Jonathon would even take her

Take her. The phrase floated through her mind. She wondered how Jonathon would "fuck" her when the time came. Probably strictly according to tradition and decency - certainly not up against the back wall of the local church, she giggled!

Her thoughts lingered on that encounter, and her hand drifted down her body. Slowly she undid two of the buttons at the front of her nightgown, slipped her hand inside and slid it down over her groin. She stroked the inside of her thigh and thought of the sensation of Will's rough jacket rubbing against that delicate flesh. She felt herself begin to moisten

"Mmmmm..."

* * * * *

The figure sat with a preternatural sense of balance on the railing of the balcony outside Elizabeth's room - lost in thought. "Shit!" He started and just about fell off backwards when he realized what was happening inside the bedroom. He watched, hypnotized, as Elizabeth's body began to writhe under her own touch

"Watching young girls get themselves off is one of the things I like the mostest," Azrael muttered under his breath, "next to me getting them off, of course."

He leaned forward, observing intently

* * * * *

Elizabeth adopted roughly the position that Will had had her in against the church, except she was lying on her back on a nice soft bed, rather than being slammed into a rough wooden wall. That's the joy of fantasy, she though vaguely

She pressed the pillow down the length of her torso, and her hand worked within her pussy. Her clitoris was engorged now and she stroked it slowly, trying to reproduce that feeling of controlling power that Will had given off. All the fear and discomfort she had experienced was filtered from her mind as the fantasy took over. She moaned softly, and clenched her teeth to silence herself. She feared her parents might hear her, as they had not gone to bed yet. Normally she waited until late at night and she was sure they were asleep before doing this

She ground the pillow in circular motions over her breasts, feeling his body press against her. She visualized him now ripping open her dress down to her navel, exposing her to his lustful gaze. Her other hand abandoned the faithful pillow and began to unbutton the nightgown some more, this time beginning at her throat and moving downward

Her full, pert breasts were exposed now, as was her body from her chest to her groin. She pushed the nightgown away from her, resenting the restricting feel of the material against her skin, wanting to be exposed, open to anyone that wanted her. She fondled her breasts roughly, feeling his powerful hands upon them. Her other hand was quite slick with her juices now and she could feel the tension building within her. She prayed she didn't cry out when it happened, but the sensation building between her legs felt stronger than anything she had experienced before

In her mind he was inside her now, she could feel the sensation of his cock thrusting within her belly - over and over again. The sensation of her body and her soul being filled and then abruptly emptied - only to be deliciously filled again in an unending cycle of pleasure she was helpless to deny was the only thing that existed in her universe. She was joined with him now; they were as one - united by passion

Her hand left her breasts and reached up to grasp an iron railing of the bedstead, her ankles reached out towards the foot of the bed. She imagined the sensation of bonds upon her wrists and ankles, stretching her out, in her mind utterly exposed to the lustful depredations he began to practice upon her. Her back arched as the orgasm built within her, she thrust her hips to meet the imaginary penis violating her virginal sanctity, and felt the icy tang of the cold night air on her nipples, burning as they were with passion

Night air?

She started - her head snapped to her right toward the balcony windows. The man was standing there watching her! Behind him the open French doors let in the crisp night air and scents of both nature and of the city. They stared at each other for a long moment, she still on her bed, legs still spread. She was propped up on one elbow, half-twisted to look in his direction, exposing her firm young body to his gaze - a sheen of sweat visible upon the length of her

"I'm sorry," Azrael asked innocently, "have I come at a bad time?"

She gave a strangled yelp and, becoming aware of her exposed condition, clasped the peignoir to her and began trying to hastily button herself up, while simultaneously backpedaling. She had failed to secure a single button when she ran out of bed and disappeared backwards with another cry. Her flailing legs were the last Azrael saw of her as she disappeared from sight with a thump

"Now that," he thought, "is how to make an entrance."

* * * * *

It was Marcus that broke another of the interminable silences between the pair. Standing at the edge of the street, gazing up at the house opposite them, he said, "It is settled then."

"Apparently, as no supplemental plan has come to light."

"Then we will wait until the early hours of the morning, at which time all local indigenous personnel will be unconsciousness, and we will secure the target, taking her to a safe location."

"We do not really have a safe location."

Marcus almost sighed

"Fine then, to our lodgings."

"Agreed."

"At which point we will appraise her condition and determine an appropriate response based on that condition."

"I vote for immediate liquidation."

"You are ahead of yourself again. First the nature of the subject must be analyzed before a comprehensive response plan can be finalized. Clearly this is why I am responsible for action plan development, and you merely critique."

"What do you mean 'merely critique'? Any moron can come up with some half-witted outline but it takes superior analytical skills to hone that plan into an effective and comprehensive plan!"

"Patent misinformation! I am sick and tired of your constant whining tone, it is unbelievably that..."

Marcus stopped in mid-sentence and they stared at each other

"We must be careful."

"Yes - our task-focused orientation is starting to degrade," observed Flin

"We are at the limit of our mission range," Marcus agreed

"True. Come then, we will retire to a safe location before returning to complete the mission."

"Agreed. Where shall we retire to."

There was a pause as they considered

"What did that retailer say about the waterfront."

"Are you implying we should spend our time here constructively by engaging in some participant-observation research."

"Affirmative. I suggest while we have this flesh form we use the defunct retailer's fiscal reserves to purchase copulatory rights with one of the females referred to during our interaction."

Marcus paused to evaluate the proposal, but only for a short time

"Agreed. It is better to conduct research than stand around being inactive. Let us go. We will also hire a cab, as I grow tired of walking everywhere."

"Agreed."

* * * * *

Elizabeth's head appeared from behind the bed, her eyes round like great saucers, hair covering half her face. For a moment she said nothing

"W-what do you think you are doing?"

"Watchin' the show, baby!"

"Please don't call me a child. I assure you I am quite grown up." The response was reflexive, as she tried to build a shield of dignity between herself and the intruder

"Yeah, I saw the evidence."

"Ohh!" the squeak of humiliation escaped her before she could stop it

All the while Elizabeth was fumbling with her clothing, frantically trying to button her nightgown. She froze as the sound of movement came from downstairs, and her father's voice called for her. Her face bearing the expression of a persecuted rabbit, she dashed from behind the bed to her bedroom door, holding her partially buttoned sleeping wear together with both hands. She arrived at the door and opened it a crack with one hand, while the other tried to keep her clothing from revealing anything of her. It required a tricky contortion, and one that Azrael thought to be a bit too late. He had already, after all, had an eyeful. Her movement to sweep the hair from her face was abruptly cut short when she realized she used the wrong hand

"S-s-sorry, Pa'pa?"

The voice floated up to her, closer now as her father reached the base of the stairs. "I said what was that noise? Sounded like a right crash!"

"Oh. Oh, sorry, Pa'pa, I was reading and I didn't realize how close to the edge of my bed I was and I fell off. I am quite all right though, I was just a bit startled."

She finished the explanation with a short laugh that sounded to her to be horribly false. Her status as a skilled liar was on display again - instinctively she told a lie with as much truth in it as possible

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Of course I am; it sounded a lot worse than it was. I'm fine, really."

"Well, all right then," her Pa'pa's voice said, "but it's just about time you were in bed."

"Mmmm, that's what I was thinking," came Azrael's mocking voice from behind her

"What was that, Elizabeth?"

"I said that that was what I was thinking. Good-night, Pa'pa."

"Good-night, pumpkin. We love you."

"I love you and Ma'ma too, Pa'pa."

She closed the bedroom door and leaned against it, breathing hard. Then the cold-night air on her skin highlighted the tenuous state of her modesty and she spun round, facing the wall and buttoning frantically

"You have no right to be in here."

"Why? I suspect you were using my image for you own personal gain - surely I have a right to be in on that."

"You are disgusting, sir!" she hissed, "and I would ask you to keep your voice down! Or my father will come flying up those stairs and thrash you within an inch of your life!"

"And you wouldn't want that would you?"

"I am sorry?"

"Well, then I'd have to stop being in your bedroom at night. And you," he continued mockingly, "Do. Not. Want. That. Do you?"

Finished with her buttoning, she turned again and stared at him, breathing heavily through her nose, her breasts rising and falling in a manner she was patently unaware of. Azrael was aware of it

"That is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You are clearly the most conceited egotist in the colonies and I would ask you again to - Keep. Your. Voice. Down," she hissed furiously at him, imitating his punctuated delivery style

He grinned at her mimicry; she had some life in her then. He sauntered to a chair, collapsing into in. He was closer to the bed now, she noted, but not unacceptably so

"So why have you not called your dear Pa'pa up to save your pure and virtuous self from little old me?"

She bit her lower lip and stared at him, silent

"I thought so."

"Because," she said, finally breaking her silence, "I wish to spare you from a frightful thrashing and myself from a certain amount of... embarrassment. So it would be best for both of us if you would just leave now. By the way you came." She glanced at the French doors, her eyebrows furrowed. "However that was."

"Oh, Elizabeth," his tone changed, abruptly, "I am so sorry. I have upset you. My entrance was poorly timed and I apologize."

She flinched slightly at the mention of timing and looked away

"But," he continued, his voice like sugary syrup "I just want to talk. Really. My earlier behavior was utterly inexcusable and I wish to apologize and explain. Please, you sit on your bed and I will sit here and we shall talk. And that is all."

She considered for a moment, but saw no immediate way of getting rid of him without making a lot of noise. If Pa'pa found a man in her room she wouldn't be able to go anywhere for the next 50 years without an armed guard of the local militia! Besides, it was kind of exciting, and he did seem much nicer now. She stood in what she thought was a forthright and determined pose, with her hands on her hips

"All right then. But one attempt to fuck me, as you would say, sir, and I'll...I'll...well, you know. I shall have you ejected."

He raised his eyebrows and looked up at her, it was a gesture she didn't quite follow but he looked cute doing it, so with that thought she went and sat down on the edge of her bed, hands in her lap

* * * * *

Azrael regarded her as she walked to the bed. She really didn't have a clue, did she? He had half a mind to tell her that when you are trying to warn a man off, don't do it while standing there with your legs spread and your hips slightly stuck forward

Now where to begin? He saw an opener

"You missed one," he pointed

"Pardon?" She looked down and saw one of her buttons was not done up. Hastily she rectified the omission

"Oh! Thank you," she said, a slight smile on her face

He withdrew a metal flask from his inside his jacket, opened the metal stopper and took a swing. She watched, saying nothing

"You see," he began, "I really don't know what came over me behind the church. I remember it was a lovely day, and of course you are a very beautiful young lady, if I may be so bold. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Of course," she replied haughtily. Well, Pa'pa had but she was fairly sure that's not what the intruder meant; she wasn't going to admit to the truth. She was thrilled at the complement though but tried to hide it. "Many times in fact," she finished

"Of course," said Azrael, doubting very much that this was so. It wasn't that it was not true - she was a very fine sight. It was her slight blush that gave her away. Besides, her could smell her innocence. "It's just that..." He paused and took another swig from his flask, then seemed to notice her. "Oh, how rude of me. Would you like a drink?" He proffered the flask

She looked at it doubtfully

"I don't believe so."

"But you do drink, you are 20-?"

"Two," she filled in the blank

"Of course. You are twenty-two - that's a grown up age. Surely you drink."

"Well," her eyes remained on the flask, "I sort of do."

"Elizabeth," he said. Her eyes flicked up to meet his

"It's perfectly safe, Elizabeth. There's no reason to be afraid."

His green eyes were deep and limitless and somehow safe. His voice, like honey, continued on

"It's a rather fine Bourbon. You'll enjoy it." Well, a rather fine Bourbon if you know nothing about Bourbon, he thought. That old priest was too tight to even buy decent liquor. He had it coming to him

"Don't play me for a fool, sir. I told you I am not some innocent child, you know. If I choose to drink then I shall drink because I feel like it, not because of your tawdry manipulations."

Damn it, she was bouncing off his mind-whammy. He had suspected that might happen but didn't really have a back-up plan. Complex plans weren't his strong point. Oh well, just have to resort to violence. Like usual

"However," Elizabeth continued, "as I do feel like a drink then I shall drink."

He looked at her blankly as she took the flask from his hands and put it to her lips. "Yup," he thought, "good ol' fate intervenes again."

Elizabeth took a swallow that would have impressed most heavy drinkers, and dissolved in a fit a gasping and spluttering - simultaneously trying to breathe and yet not make any loud noises at the same time. She turned bright red almost instantly and Azrael wondered if she might be about to die

"How interesting," he thought. Then he remembered he needed the girl alive and so moved over to the bed to comfort her. As comforting human beings was an area he had little experience in he made do by gently slapping her on the back and whispering platitudes about her going to survive. He had observed others doing this and it seemed to find acceptance with Elizabeth

When she had recovered a bit she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She wiped the liquid streaming out of her nose with her sleeve, in one of the least romantic gestures Azrael had been party to

She croaked, "I think I swallowed a bit too much."

"Oh, no, my dear, it just went down the wrong hole. It could've happened to anyone." He smiled reassuringly. He hoped she swallowed cock better than she swallowed bourbon

"Indeed," she croaked again, gulped and sniffed. "You're right, it is a good year, isn't it?"

"Ah huh." The smile remained fixed. Elizabeth looked straight ahead, seemed to steel herself and put the flask to her lips again. This time she swallowed a much smaller amount of the fiery liquid.

"By a Balrog's scrotum, look at the depths I have sunk too," Azrael thought, with the smile still firmly affixed to his face. "I have to get a girl drunk on - alcohol - before I can have my pleasure of her. This is humiliating. If they saw me now I would never..."

With that thought he feverishly scanned the shadows in the room, and out the French doors. There was nothing. He sunk down again, relaxing. Elizabeth was looking up at him, saying something

"What dear?" he said, catching up. "Oh, no it was nothing, I just suddenly though I might have left the gas on at home."

He rubbed her back in a friendly fashion, trying to decide whether he was disappointed that she didn't have a bra on - they were wonderfully flimsy and terrific fun for ripping off

"Gas? Oh, too complex to explain. And I don't really understand it myself. Let's talk about something more interesting - like you! Tell me about yourself. Say, could I have a swig of that after you? Thank you, you are too kind."

He took the decent shot of the Bourbon, his first of the night, the other swallows being faked

"I might well be needing a bit more of that before this night is out," he thought as Elizabeth launched into what proved to be a long and tedious recital of her childhood experiences. "A lot more."

* * * * *

The whore was on her hands and knees, a man working at each end of her. The bubbling sound of voices floated up through the wooden floorboards, the sounds of drunken reveling and lively debate typical of a drinking house. The only noises that came from within the dirty, dimly lit room were wet slopping noises of meat sliding against slimy meat, and the intermittent groans and muffled squeaks of the girl

As if on cue the activities of the two men built up in their vigor - one slamming her cunt, one fucking her mouth. She made cries in her throat in response to each powerful thrust now, and struggled to avoid gagging as the cock in her mouth threatened to push itself too deeply within her. They came in unison and gratefully she swallowed the foul liquid being pumped into her. At last! They had been fucking her for nearly the entire hour - she'd never experienced anything the like! Her body was aching from the penetration and her repeated orgasms, never had she cum while performing any of her 'duties' and now... she collapsed in a sweat-sodden heap on the bed as they released her

Marcus and Flin stepped away to confer

"Interesting."

"Yes."

"We still have time?"

"Yes."

"Then I suggest we continue this line of research. It is proving fruitful."

"I agree. We will swap ends."

"I concur."

They returned to the prostitute, she was still breathing heavily and her eyes looked upon them with a vacant, glazed expression. Flin positioned himself near her head while Marcus lifted her hips up.

"Hey..." she began as she realized what was happening

"Do not be alarmed, you will be fully compensated for your services."

Without any preamble he smoothly mounted her, pulling back on her hip as he slid the full length of his shaft inside her in one flowing motion. She gasped and arched her back, a cry escaping her lips. Marcus used that moment to thrust his member into her mouth

"For optimum results encourage her to employ her tongue," suggested Flin, as he began to rhythmically pleasure her. Marcus nodded acknowledgement

"Do you hear that, Bitch? Use your tongue."

"Shit," thought Melissa, as she summoned the exhausted muscles of her mouth to action, "I don't want to be 'compensated' - I wanted to be bloody well paid! And I was hoping to finish early tonight. Oooh!"

* * * * *

They both lay on the bed now, Elizabeth on her back, looking at the ceiling. Azrael lay beside her on his side, one hand supporting his head and looking down on her, the other tracing lazy circles on her firm flat stomach. His face held an expression of warm attentiveness and he appeared to be hanging on her every word

"And then last year that duplisch-a-tish," her bourbon sodden brain struggling over the word, "cow, Meridith Gibbins, said to me..."

It occurred to him then that perhaps she was deliberately torturing him, because she knew what he had in store for her. His eyes flicked upwards and took in a painting on her bedroom wall of some appalling pastoral scene as he considered the possibility

"No," he thought, "this is genuinely this girl's pathetic excuse for a life." If he had actually been capable of feeling pity for anyone he would have felt that emotion for her right then

"...but all I had shaid to her wash..." she droned on

"This is a sad reflection," he continued thinking to himself, "on what can happen to a promising young girl's life if they don't get their brains fucked out at an early age." He drew this conclusion because that was pretty much his only way of understanding the issues and motivations of human females. Right or wrong, he couldn't take any more of this and made his move

His hand slid down her stomach and across her right hip, flowing around her groin without touching her most private region, and down her thigh. His hand now gently stroked up and down her upper leg, the fingers resting on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh

"...such a kerfuffle over such a shimple mish-understanding...oh!" She looked up at him, confused. "What ever are you doing?" The word 'are' came out as 'aaaahhhh'

"Oh sorry, does that bother you? My hand was getting tired and I though I'd move it. You have lovely firm thighs, did you know," he beamed

She smiled happily up at him, absorbing the compliment, and then tried to look stern

"Well, I should shink it would be besht for both of ush if you moved your hand," she paused to consider the phrasing, "away from down there."

"But of course, my beauty. Whatever you ask."

His slid hand up over her hipbone, she felt his finger brush her pubic hair and she suppressed a squeak. The hand traveled languorously across her stomach and...kept going. Oh dear, she thought, trying to catch up with the sudden change in events. His hand brushed against the bottom and side of her left breast as it traveled up to her left shoulder - and once again she felt that delicious electric tingle run through her. It ended its uninvited journey with his finger gently playing with her earlobe. His arm now lay across her body, running diagonally from left to right, she could feel his bicep against her breast - a large part of her consciousness wanting it to press more firmly. He was over her now, looking almost straight down, his left arm still propping up his head, the sweet smile still on his face, calm and relaxed. She began to feel relaxed again just looking into those deep green eyes

"I...I...ummm..." her mouth moved like a goldfish, nothing coherent coming out

"Shhh," he said, his finger on her lips, his forearm now lying across her breast, meeting her unspoken desire for more pressure, "you really are a very, very beautiful young lady."

"No!" she giggled. She looked into his eyes and the laughter left her, her face becoming serious, intense

"Yes," he corrected her

With that his lips moved down, seeking hers. She advanced and met him halfway, greedily seeking the pleasure of his lips and tongue. They mutually stroked and massaged each other in increasingly frenzied movements. He broke away and looked down upon her, his hands massaging her breasts. She arched her back, feeling the juices stir between her legs

"Ohhh, yes!" she implored as the floodgates of need opened within her, while some part of her remembering to keep her voice down

"About fuckin' time," thought Azrael

With that he moved between her legs, repositioning Elizabeth's body effortlessly, as though it were nothing but a rag doll. Grasping the nightgown at her throat and with two powerful actions, he ripped it open - exposing the length of her body to his gaze. He pulled the top of the gown over her shoulders, pinning her arms behind her back. She felt his powerful hands grasp her around the waist and pull upwards - then the sensation of his lips and tongue licking and nuzzling her stomach and navel. She lay there for a moment, arms pinned, back arched, head back and staring at the darkened ceiling as he worked on her, and felt the changes occurring within her body

"Gosh!" was the only thought she could conjure up from her befuddled brain

Her mind cleared startlingly as he moved down and his tongue began exploring her nether lips. She stiffened and gasped

"Fuck!"

* * * * *

Elizabeth pressed the pillow to her face, her mind beginning to function again after the orgasm. The intensity of her climax had taken her by surprise, and she had only just grabbed the pillow in time before the scream escaped her. As she lay there, a delicious feeling of relaxation overcoming her body she idly hoped that her parent's had not heard. But to be honest, right now she didn't give a fuck

As Azrael began to work his way back up her body she released her pillow, letting it fall to one side, and reached her arms out above her, wrapped her hands around the iron railings and stretched herself out, her ribcage pressing against her skin. He was at her stomach now, approaching her breasts - lips working over her sensitive skin. Her nipples ached for his touched and she arched her back, anticipating

"Mmmm, Azrael," she murmured.

Azrael heard the change of tone even as he caressed the girl's body. He smiled

"Wilhelmina," he said, nibbling around her ribcage, "are you feeling better now?"

"I've worked out what you've done," her voice was different, the English accent gone, but it was still languid. She shifted slightly before continuing. "You've put me in someone's else's fuckin' body. Woah, was I confused for a while back there! But I've worked it all out - the whole enchilada. You sack of shit."

He was licking the underside of her breasts now

"Which reminds me," she looked down at him, "I believe this little girl wanted you to suck her titties just before. I have to agree."

He smiled up at her and moved his mouth over her right nipple and began to work on it. She groaned again and wrapped her legs around him in an active movement that had not yet been attempted by Elizabeth

"Now, where was I? You know, I am starting to suspect that I am fuckin' smashed here. How much did you give her to drink?"

He paused and considered

"More than you'd think for a girl that size," he reflected. "She sure did knock it back."

"I hope she pukes on you." Wil giggled

It was Azrael's turn to glance toward the bedroom door

"Shhhh," he hissed, "you'll wake her parents."

"Shush your shhhsh-ing, prick. I will do what I fuckin' well like. And you, your treacherous piece of shit, will suck my, or her, nipples. Whoever they belong to. What is this bitch's name?"

"Elizabeth."

"Right. 'Lizabeth. Now suck while I try and remember what I was saying."

He returned his attention to her breast and waited for her to speak

"Ah, yes. I know exactly what you did. You have stuck me in some stupid little girl's body, and hidden me away in some pissant country town in some pissant backwater state."

"Oh, no, we're still in Boston. It's just that 18th century that's all."

There was a long pause, which he filled by playing with her left breast

"You fuckin' what?" she said eventually. "The 18th fuckin' what?"

"The 18th century; 1765 to be precise."

"You mean as in Mozart an' shit?"

"A-huh."

Wil had to wait a bit for this to sink in to her alcohol and now shock dulled brain

"Sure, that fits, yeah. That fits. Oh, fuck I'm gonna...oh, fuck. Am I gonna..." She slapped her hands over her face. "Ohhh, shit!" She let a long stream of air.

Azrael looked up at her. "You know, it really looks like she is going to cry," he thought. He'd hoped she'd take it better than this. Well, he more sort of just assumed she would

"Hey, Wil, baby," he soothed, "you've had a stressful time. Nothing a good hard screwing won't fix. Just lay back and let me take care of it."

"Shut the fuck up." Wil considered things a bit more. "So...so where's my body at?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"You are the most worthless, sack of extra-dimensional...hey, wait - something's changed. I can't feel your... the link!"

"Uhhh, yeah - the shift broke our union, our linkage."

Wil began to laugh softly. "I fuckin' bet you didn't expect that!"

"Well, no - but it'll only be a temporary thing. We'll get back together, eh, Wil? Just like before."

"Dream on, sucka! If you think I'm gonna do that shit again..."

Azrael snarled and lunged up her body, toward her face, ending inches from hers, teeth bared

"Woah, woah, woah!" Wil was startled by the instant change. "We can maybe work something out, baby!"

"Accept me!" he hissed

"Fuck you, Az. I'm going into the game with my eyes open this time," she hissed back

He wrapped his arms around her, holding and stroking with his powerful arms, as though he could possess her with physical presence alone. She put her arms around him in turn, stroking his back, massaging the muscles arrayed there. It was like she was soothing an upset child as he nuzzled her neck. But no child would have spoken in the chilling voice he now used

"Do I have to break you again, Wilhelmina? Because I can - and I will. Only next time I may not be so patient with you. Next time I could be... rough."

"Yawn," she said

"You cannot begin to understand what I could do to you," he was looking into her face again now, "I could..."

Without warning her fingernails dug deep into his back and her eyes went wide

"She's coming back!"

"Who? The parent's?!" Azrael hissed, looking over towards the bedroom door

"No, her. Her! My sight's fading, it feels like I'm falling asleep and I can't stop it happenin'!"

"Fight it!"

"This is a very weird sensation."

"Shit!"

"Azrael," her voice was dreamy now

"What?"

"Don't damage this body this evening, right? Medical facilities were..." she had to struggle to focus on her words, "not shit hot way back in the olden days. Got that?

"You don't mind if I break this body in then?"

"Like I can fuckin' stop you..."

And she was gone

"Good point," said Azrael to the blank, unseeing face. Then he had an idea

* * * * *

Elizabeth looked up at Azrael

"I sorry," she stammered, "what was that?"

"Nothing. Hey are you all right?"

"Of course." She paused to think. "Oh, did I nod off there? Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry." She gave a small smile of contrition

He smiled. "No problem, baby. Now where were we?"

"I am not a child so could you please not call me a baby."

His eyes flicked toward the ceiling. This was almost too much to make it worth going on with it, he thought. Then he remembered the feel of her soft, yielding flesh underneath him and he looked back down into her eyes. She looked up at him; he saw her throat move as she gulped

"Ummm, I think we were up to the bit where you fuck me?"

He thought he'd have to explain the difference between making love and being fucked to her one day - or, on reflection, maybe not. Ignorance is bliss after all. A wicked grin spread across his face

"Of course. But first we have to...warm you up again, hmmm?"

She smiled and blushed

Chapter 4

They moved toward the exit, Flin leading, Marcus just behind. The air was thick with smoke and stank of drink, sweat and vomit. As they reached the door a short, portly man with very little hair left on his head stepped out, blocking their way

"A good evening to you fine gentlemen," he greeted them warmly

"And to you," replied Flin. "You are blocking our passage."

Unperturbed by the strangely clean looking man's abruptness, the doorman continued on

"And did young Melissa perform to your... satisfaction?" He gave a lewd grin

"She performed her assigned tasks within a valid performance paradigm."

"Errr, good." He looked at the other stranger, who was standing behind the first and looking back into the bar. They appeared to be brothers. "Well, now that you're satisfied, there is just the matter of the room and laundry fee to take care off."

"This costing was not specified in the original contract. It is therefore invalid."

"Now good sir, let us not quibble over the fine points. Instead it would be best if you and your brother would honor your debts and depart without any," several large figures stepped out from the shadows and menaced the two men, "unpleasant experiences." The doorman smiled a cold smile

"I note your inference," said Flin, "allow me to confer with my colleague."

The doorman nodded and glanced at the bouncers, smiling in satisfaction. It always paid to fleece the out of town businessmen out of a bit extra - they didn't want to have to return to their wives and explain a black eye or two!

"This clearly exceeds our contractual obligations with this establishment," Flin whispered to Marcus, who nodded ascent while still gazing into the smoky interior of the bar

"Clearly. Furthermore, I believe the natives will attempt to forcibly extract finances from us should we refuse."

"I concur. But we have insufficient fiscal resources to cover such an unbudgeted costing."

"True. That and the illegality of the request leads me to propose that we immediately depart this establishment, engaging in violence processing if required to force an egress

"Agreed."

Both Flin and Marcus now faced the doorman

"Your terms are unacceptable," said Flin. "You will stand aside and facilitate our egress."

"I don't think so. Boys!" The doorman made a nodding motion to the bouncers on either side

Obediently one of the barrel-chested thugs stepped forward, raising his billy club and bringing it down towards Marcus' head. Marcus blocked the blow with his forearm, bones cracking. The bouncer, feeling those bones smash under his blow, smiled at Marcus. The smile faded when he saw that his supposed victim's face was as expressionless as before

Marcus grasped the bouncer around the throat with a lightening movement and smashed his forehead into the thug's face - his attacker's nose exploded, sending splinters of bone into the bouncer's living brain. The bouncer was dead before his corpse hit the ground

There was a moment when time seemed to stand still, as all eyes gazed upon the 230 pounds of meat that lay on the floor. There was an unreality to the scene. The minds of all the humans who had witnessed the event collectively tried to wish it away, to make it as though it had never happened. But the scene would not restore itself

Reality, of a sort, returned as Flin drove his fingers into the doorman eyes, ripping the eyeballs from their skull. The doorman began to emit a thin, high-pitched wail as his hands scrabbled at his bleeding, eyeless sockets

A cry sounded from the bar behind them, as one of the patrons recognized what was happening. Panic spread through the crowd like a virulent, infectious disease. Chaos descended as a nightmarish scene of people screaming, yelling and fleeing unfolded. Some people cried out for mercy, others for an understanding of what was happening, people tripped and fell to be crushed under the panic stricken stampede - any trace of higher brain functions gone from the mob now as each individually sought to preserve their self at any cost

Amidst this insanity stalked the expressionless figures of Flin and Marcus - killing, and killing

And killing

* * * * *

Azrael judged her ready. Her sodden pussy needed no further stimulation and he couldn't contain himself much longer - his member ached for her. This bitch had many skills to learn he thought and oral was going to be at the top of the list. Once she is broken in. He reduced his stimulation of her, and she looked at him groggily

"Do you accept this?" he asked holding up the collar. It was made of soft leather, about an inch wide and didn't seem terribly special or pretty to her

"W-what?" Elizabeth's mind was dull with alcohol and pleasure

"Do you accept this?"

"Ummm, why yes, if you think I should."

"Then put it on," he hissed savagely, "around your neck

She shifted position to free her hands and reached for the collar. Taking it from him she brought the leather band to her throat. He stared at her - frozen. The collar went around her neck - she started at the feel of it against her flesh, it seemed almost unnaturally cold. She fastened the buckle at the back. There seemed to be only one hole for the buckle, so she had no choice as to how tightly to secure it. The collar fit was not too bad, it just seemed to be slightly more constricting that she would have liked - it made it impossible not to be aware of it

Azrael gazed down upon her, almost a look of triumph upon him. Elizabeth flopped her hands above her head and writhed in ecstasy as new and strange sensations began to flow through her body

"I feel funny," she murmured

"It's the Bourbon, child," he ran his hands down her body, "it's strong stuff."

"I am not a child."

"Yes, you are. But soon you will be a woman. And after that a whore of darkness."

She smiled again and giggled

"Oh, you do say the strangest things, my love."

Her playful laughter was cut short as his powerful hands flipped her over onto her stomach. He sat between her legs and kneaded her ass cheeks. The sensations flowing into her body now made it hard to think, she was awash with primal impulses

"Will...?"

His hands hoisted her hips into the air and set her upon her knees. He slid those powerful hands down her body and cupped her breasts, then lifted her up onto her hands

"Will?" she gasped, long blonde hair streaming over her face

"It is important you stay in this position, on all fours. You will obey me."

"Y-yes, Master," she panted. Elizabeth had no idea where that had come from and did not care. A rush of erotic sensation filled her - from where she did not no. One last coherent thought flashed through her mind before it became an utter void filled only with the sensations of pleasure and pleasure/pain. She lent down and scooped a pillow into her mouth - gagging herself

She felt his hips against her buttocks now, and the sensation of his erect member pushing up against her stomach. He spoke in a language Elizabeth did not understand. She also did not see the runes on the leather collar glow dully in the darkness. The sensation of the slick tip of his powerful tool sliding back along her stomach toward her dripping slit was the only thing she was aware of. Her body quivered with pre-orgasmic spasms. The tip slid up now and rested at her entrance - and paused. The pause was a thing of agony for Elizabeth. She tried to thrust her hips backwards onto him but he held her around the waist in a grip of iron. A long, dog-like whine of anguished frustration escaped her - the white searing agony of need annihilating everything in her mind

* * * * *

Gwen crept along the darkened hallway leading to the bedrooms. She arrived at the door to the master bedroom; opening the door just a crack, she listened intently. Her face relaxed into a relieved expression as she heard the steady breathing of Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers. The mild sleeping draught she had prepared and slipped into their evening meal had taken effect. They would sleep soundly until the morning, and perhaps be a bit embarrassed that they had slept so late. Gwen carefully closed the door and padded back down the hallway,. She stopped at Elizabeth's room and pressed her ear against the wall next to the door. She detected a noise, a sound a human would make during only one activity. Gwen pressed the length of her body up against the wall as she listened and rubbed herself up and down slightly, feeling her breasts grind against the rough material of her clothing. Her hand slipping under her skirt and began to move methodically at her groin. Her face bore an expression that was a mix of anguish and pleasure

"Oh, Master," she moaned ever so softly. "It should be me. It should be me!"

* * * * *

The thing that sat at the proffered entrance to her body and soul continued to speak in an unknown tongue. Its taloned hands gripped the girl's tiny waist as she frantically tried to impale herself upon its gigantic member. If the creature had stood up it would have been around eight foot tall, every muscle on its powerful body clearly defined through its red skin. The girl's body looked so frail and small next to it. One hand left her waist and traced a line down her back. She whined in clenched-teeth ecstasy as a long trail of blood flowed from the shallow wound; the line of dark liquid contrasting starkly with her flawless white skin. The demonic thing ran its finger down that line of blood and anointed itself, making one straight line down the middle of its forehead. Then it licked the remainder of her blood off. It seemed to find the taste delicious

Both hands held the diminutive blonde girl now as the creature readied to thrust, still reciting the strange tongue. She sensed it was near and choked back her sobbing desperate tears as hope for release dawned within her mind

* * * * *

Elizabeth was in an agony of need. "Pleeeaaasssssseeeee," she wailed through her gritted teeth

Then she felt the member enter her virginal body, stretching her tight vaginal wall to, then beyond its capacity. Her head shot up and her back arched, but she her only sound was an agonized hiss of air

Part of her didn't believe she could such a massive tool within her frail body, but the member had smoothly embedded a third of its length within her. She was stretched wide with this first invasion and knew there was much more of it to come. But as she struggled to accept within her, the other part of her self begged for deeper violation. That part of her understood that it was the most natural thing in all of creation for her body to serve as a receptacle for this thing. She spread her legs slightly, trying to open herself up to him as much as was physically possible, and begged for more.

The cock within her paused, and she knew he was savoring her agonized pleasure, feeling her desperate movements as she struggled to accommodate him. It withdrew about an inch then thrust again, deeper this time. Her accompanying cry was not pure agony, but contained a note of pleasure. That note grew stronger as the action was repeated five more times, each thrust probing deeper within her hitherto sanctified body than the last. Tears filled her eyes - the sensations were too much for her. At the end of each thrust she knew she could take no more of him, but each time he went deeper. Finally, the full length of it was embedded within her - his hips and balls slapping against her buttocks with the thrust

She came - hard. The pillow fell from her mouth as she cried out with the explosive waves of pleasure rolling through her. The spasms of intense pleasure seemed to go on for ever.

* * * * *

The demon held himself inside her tightly spread flesh, waiting for her to finish shuddering from her orgasm. Then he spoke

"Beg your master to fuck you."

Her reply was immediate. "Fuck me! Please, Master - fuck me!!"

Azrael smiled. This one had potential. He could feel the taint of Wil within her body and it excited him. The demon began to fuck her, withdrawing until only the tip of his member remained within, then returned to fill her once more. He started off slowly, but soon built up an aggressive rhythm, the sound of his hips smacking into her ass occurring in unison with her animal grunts pleasure and pain - for her the two sensations were as one

Elizabeth, on her hands and knees, her slight body shuddering with each thrust, settled into her role as receiver - abandoning all pretence of rational thought. She was a supplicant begging within her mind for each thrust from her master - a role that felt to her as natural as breathing. Her only need was for him to continue doing this to her - forever. Her position was perfect - it was holy

He continued to desecrate her diminutive body in an inexorable rhythm for an age, far longer than a human male could have managed. At regular intervals he gave an especially powerful thrust into her, causing her usual gasp of pleasure to change to a cry of pain. If her brain had been capable of any rational thought, Elizabeth would have realized he slammed her hard with every thirteenth thrust

Azrael tried to remember his promise to Wil not to damage the girl's body. This was proving to be a bit tricky as he could taste Wil's energy mixed in with the girl's own and it was exciting him - making it difficult to concentrate. He felt her life force flow through him, and his member became further engorged. Elizabeth's cries increased in intensity and pitch with it - she was already stretched to capacity, there only so much pain the collar could absorb

"Woops," he thought, "think of England, old boy, think of England."

* * * * *

Elizabeth lay on her back, breathing heavily. Azrael watched her breasts rise and fall as she sucked in air. Absorbing life, expelling it, he thought, absorbing life, expelling it. She was drenched in sweat, as were the sheets, her hair clumped and stuck to her skin. He said nothing, appreciating her. She wasn't bad actually, she'd taken quite a pounding there, virginal and everything, and soaked it up. Not near the extremes he'd gone to with Wil, of course. Wil liked to push the boundaries, he thought, smiling at the memories. Elizabeth had had a good safety net under her tonight. He'd taken care to recite the incantations before he started into her. And it had pretty much just been sex, nothing... irregular. He frowned in disappointment

"Ahhh well," he told himself, "better to take these things slowly - especially as I want this bitch firmly on my side."

"Fuck," Elizabeth gasped again

She'd said the word several times already. Azrael kept expecting something to follow it but nothing ever did

"Would you like to?" he inquired

She flopped her head across to the left and regarded him. Her eyes ran down the length of his naked body. She found the sight of his well-defined abdominal muscles under his lightly tanned skin pleasing

"He must be fit," she thought, "I'm shagged senseless and he's only perspiring slightly." Tiredly she raised her arm and ran it through his hair

"Could you give me a couple of minutes, darling?" she smiled weakly, "Just to catch my breath?"

"Nope," he replied, grabbing her by her slimy waist and, almost losing his grip, he dragged her body to him. She giggled, surrendering to his touch

* * * * *

As Azrael finished dressing himself he gazed down upon her sleeping form. She still wore the collar and he could feel the energy flow between them, reduced to a subtle link now as the passion subsided

He considered the situation. He was step closer, but only a step. He needed to buy some time, and that meant slowing down those others. How to slow them down? Azrael paced up and down next to the bed. Elizabeth murmured softly to herself

"How about a dose of violence," thought Azrael, "that'll slow 'em down."

With another brilliant plan safely secured in his brain he moved swiftly to the French door and exited, leaping over the balcony railing and landing on the grass with a soft thump. He straightened, looked left, looked right and then proceeded around the front of the house and so out on to the street

There was a form there - barring his passage. He stopped sharply and stared at the small shape

"No!" he hissed. There was a new sound to his voice, a desperate edge. "There is an agreement!"

Fluff sat before him, her golden, saucer-shaped eyes expressionless. Aside from some idle flicking of the tip of her tail, she did not move

"You have no right to intervene!" Azrael took a bold step forwards, his finger jabbing at her. At the movement Fluff sunk down onto all fours and emitted a low kitty growl. Azrael leapt back as if he'd just been stung, his eyes wide

"I'm sorry!" Both hands were out in front of him now, palms facing Fluff in a gesture of appeasement. "I just meant that there is an agreement. And...and you can't," he trod gingerly over his words, "for whatever reason, break that agreement. Because it's been agreed to." He finished somewhat lamely, his hands now almost in a position of prayer

Fluff remained unmoving for long moments. Azrael stood, palms touching, with an almost pleading expression on his face. Time froze, the scene hung there, delicately balanced on the knife-edge of fate

Fluff appeared to notice something worthy of investigation off in the bushes on the other side of the house - noiselessly she padded away into the darkness

"OK, thank you," said Azrael to the shadows whence Fluff had disappeared, obviously relieved, "I fully, I say fully understand your position and where you're coming from here." He was walking towards the street now

"I agree that it is sooo hard to find a good human these days - quite with you there," he said talking back over his shoulder as he reached the street, "and we'll discuss that, sure. My people will be in contact with your people and it'll be awwwlll smoothed over. Good, thanks, fine. Love you but gotta run!"

He turned on to the street and tried to slow his respiration rate. Unholy shit were those things fickle! Mostly they couldn't care less about your existence but every now and then one will just... He let that thought hang, uncompleted. He didn't want the ugly image of an enraged feline haunting him. Again

Driving the thoughts from his mind he tried to once again focus on what he was supposed to be doing, finding and slowing down the competition. With that he broke into a jog and disappeared around the corner

* * * * *

As he disappeared from sight March and Flin stepped out of the shadows

"I am uncertain as to why we do not just eliminate it," said Flin

"The risk levels inherent in such a methodology exceed tolerable parameters. It is more efficient to obtain our mission objectives without having to engage in significant violence processing."

"Then what do you call what we just did at that bar on the waterfront?"

"Unfortunate. But we were attacked."

"Only by a few of them, the rest were observers to the aggression inspired by the establishment's management."

"I do not remember you objecting to their liquidation at the time," noted Marcus

"True." Flin thought for a moment. "Marcus," Marcus turned to look at Flin at the use of his name, "did you experience sensations of...pleasure during the violence processing?"

Marcus considered the inquiry

"Yes," he said eventually, "I admit to this sensation."

"We are at the limit of our mission range."

"And it seems the infection is spreading."

"It does. Moreover, our processes have become so disrupted that we are failing to register maladaptive cognitions in an adequately timely manner."

"It would seem."

Marcus spoke again

"Should we abort."

"The mission is close to completion. To abort now would represent a considerable amount of wasted resources."

"A valid assessment. It is agreed then we will apprehend the target and... process it."

"Only after we have made absolutely sure that it is indeed she - rather than one of its idle conquests. Do not forget - they are master of deceit and have tricked us before."

"Of course. Extraction," Marcus seemed to savor the word, "of a confession will be a top priority."

"Yes," Flin said, "yes, indeed. Now, prepare to employ the vertical obstacle scaling technology."

"I have it here." He hoisted the ladder up, and Flin grabbed the other end. They walked over to the house with the ladder between them. A cat stood on the front lawn. As they passed, each gave her a polite nod of the head - the feline merely looked at each entity in turn

* * * * *

Fluff stood unmoving as they disappeared around the back of the house. Her big round eyes lifted up to the heavens and their gaze rested upon the moon. For a long while she looked upon that ancient silvery orb, before she abruptly turned and skulked across to the next-door neighbor's lawn - irritated at the answer she had got

* * * * *

Elizabeth moved slightly, half-asleep, her body cooling, coming down from the heights of her exertions. The effects of the adrenaline and the natural and not-so-natural painkillers in her system began to fade and be replaced by the ache of her over-stretched muscles. She was unused to this sort of sensation, as she had had few encounters with any sort of physically demanding activities during her life. She felt different somehow, not only in her body but also in her mind. It was impossible to pinpoint what this difference was - but things had changed, that she understood. Elizabeth relaxed and, enjoying the new sensations in her exhausted body, began to drop off into sleep

There was a voice. "Elizabeth - wake up! Can you hear me?"

Elizabeth tried to ignore it

"Wake up girl! Come on! I wonder if I can slap you."

The voice had proven impossible to ignore so Elizabeth tried to placate it

"I'll get up in a minute, Mama." Her voice was full of sleep

"God! I wonder if I can just..." Elizabeth's hand reached up and came down upon her cheek. She started - half-sitting up. She had just slapped herself! Had she been dreaming?

"We need to talk," the voice said.

Elizabeth looked around, floundering. There was no-one there! The voice sounded so familiar, it was... She tried to place where she had heard that voice before, her brain taking time to start moving again. Her blood froze as the answer came to her. It was her voice!

"Who...who is that?" she stammered

"That's kinda a long story; we'll get into that whole deal later. For now my name is Wil and we need to get our ass the fuck out'a here!"

Elizabeth's mouth went slack. She had just spoken! But hadn't! Well, her mouth had moved but the words that came out were someone else's. It was unreal - she must be dreaming!

With that thought she half-relaxed and flopped back down onto the bed. Of course! It was one of those really strong dreams that you can't tell is real or not until you wake up! Having rationalized what was happening to herself Elizabeth relaxed, letting events in her dream carry her on

"Ummm," the feeling of sleepiness returning almost straight away, "and why do we need to 'get the fuck out of here' then?"

"That is also a long story that we don't have time for right now," her mouth said in the dream, "but I need you to get your ass up and the fuck out of here, ASAP."

"But I don't even own a donkey." This was a strange dream indeed. "What is an ASAP?"

"Stupid bitch! Just believe me for now, OK? Get up, get dressed and get... Oh, shit - too late."

Elizabeth's head had snapped toward the balcony of its own volition. There were two men standing there, expressionless and cold. Elizabeth started as she saw them and sucked her breath in sharply. This dream was getting uncomfortably strange, she decided. It was time to take control of it and hopefully it would turn into something more pleasant, as these sort of dreams sometimes did

"Look here - there has obviously been a mistake," she began, "I do believe you gentlemen are in the wrong house, you must be looking for someone else. So please do be on your way. Ta-ta. Thank you."

One of the men looked at the other with a raised eyebrow

"No," said the other, "don't fall for it - it's a trick."

The first man nodded agreement and they both stepped towards here at the same time

"What a bloody silly dream," muttered Elizabeth. But then, dreams often are

"Stupid bitch," said the voice

* * * * *

After gagging the target, Marcus and Flin wrapped the girl in one of the sheets on the bed. The target had barely struggled and so far this part of the operation was going smoothly. She had appeared to be unsure as to what course of action to take against them, and had wasted too much time arguing with herself. Humans can be peculiarly inefficient, they agreed

Flin carried the girl down the ladder over his shoulder in a fireman's hoist. He reached the bottom and passed the package - which was struggling weakly now - to Marcus

"What about the ladder."

"Let us leave it here. That way someone else has to clean up the mess we have made and save us the bother. This will be more efficient."

Flin flashed Marcus a grin. And just as quickly dropped it as he realized what he was doing

"Agreed. Let us be off."

They trudged around to the front of the house, by the same route that Azrael had used not too long before. Fluff was there still, sitting on the fence now and regarding the scene. Marcus, leading the way, nodded to Fluff again. Fluff stared back

"There is an agreement between our species," Marcus stated as he passed her, the bulky white package over his shoulder

"Yes," said Flin as it came his turn to pass the feline, "the agreement."

Fluff continued to stare but made no movement. She lost interest as the two figures began to walk down the street away from her. A flower moved slightly in the breeze, catching her eye. Fluff stared down at it for a moment, then pounced

* * * * *

They lay on the bed in the strangers' room and looked at the ceiling. It was not a hugely impressive sight; it needed a good clean - or maybe a fresh coat of paint

Wil remarked as much, attempting to break the ice

"Really." Elizabeth replied, flatly

Neither of them said anything more for a bit

Their mouth opened; Elizabeth's accent came out. "I wonder when it was," she said slowly, "when I went completely insane?"

"I get the same feeling sometimes," Elizabeth's mouth replied in a very different tone and accent, "but for different reasons. But you ain't goin' insane - this is real, I'm real, and this situation is very real."

"That is possible - these ropes are starting to hurt already. That's not a very dreamy thing."

"Yeh, that's right. That's how you can tell if it's real life - whether it hurts or not."

"For you maybe. My real life is not usually painful."

"Well, good for you, Princess. Now can we focus on the situation?"

"Really, have you no sense of decorum? First we should at least introduce ourselves properly. I am Elizabeth Chalmers. What did you say your name was?"

"Wilhelmina - Wilhelmina Murray. Call me Wil. Please."

"Wil. That is a coincidence. I was just...err, talking with a nice gentleman called Will."

"Yeh, I felt some of your 'conversation'. His name ain't Will. I'm Wil. Got it?"

"Yes, Wil you am. I've heard something like that before."

"He responds to Azrael and for fuck's sake - does it fuckin' matter right now!"

"Look here you - I shall not be addressed in such a manner by a figment of my imagination!"

"You dumb ass bitch! Are you fuckin' retarded?"

"Me retarded? I'm not the one who lacks proper diction!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"My point exactly."

They fell silent for a while

"Look I'm really sorry that you're involved in this," Wil began again, "but if you just let me run things here, I can get us outa this. Right?"

"You? 'Run things'? But surely all this is your fault? It is because of you, whatever you really are, that I am in this situation in the first place!" Her voice became increasingly outraged are she went on

"Ssshh," Wil shushed her, "keep your voice down! Don't let them hear you. Look, in case you haven't noticed our situation is fuckin' serious. As is fuckin' critical, ya got that? Do I make myself clear? If we don't play this right we will be truly fucked."

"Well that's obvious," Elizabeth hissed back, "I do not suppose they tied me, or us, or whatever, in this position by chance, do you?"

Elizabeth/Wil's hands were tied behind their back and they lay towards the foot of the bed with their legs overhanging the end. Their ankles were bound to the bed's feet, spreading their legs wide. To further emphasize this humiliating position, the two strangers had likewise also bound their knees to the outer frame of the bed, stretching their legs apart even further and making it impossible to move them even slightly. About the only thing they could move down there was to jiggle their hips up and down, and that was not the sort of motion they wanted to be making in this situation

After binding them in this manner their abductors had left, about ten minutes ago, without so much as a word; their abductors' silence had been unsettling. So they lay, naked and helpless, wide open to any intruder, awaiting their fate

"I don't mean fucked, I mean fucked! As in tortured, murdered, yada, fuckin' yada."

Elizabeth found that a bit confusing but understood the gist of the message. She paused to consider it. This all did seem rather real. A tingle of unease went up her spine

"Well, perhaps if we say to them that we promise not to tell anyone about this they'll let us go?"

"Oh yeah," Wil observed dryly, "perhaps they'll give us a sweetie and send us on our way."

"Well, it's my bloody body and I don't want to die!"

"I'm stuck the fuck in it too and I don't want to die either - which I will if this pasty body of yours gets killed!" She looked down at the smooth white flesh of Elizabeth's body. "Don't you ever get outdoors here?"

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you hopped in here with me - uninvited. And how dare you start criticizing my body! Everyone of any decent breeding knows that a tan is a sign of working class origins, of which I am beginning to suspect you are! A lady should have milky white skin, the complexion of cream." Elizabeth's growing fear was manifesting itself in anger

"You are shitting me!" Both their voices had risen in pitch. "Perhaps you should've asked your fuckin' slimy piece of shit new boyfriend about this body sharing deal. I know I fuckin' well will be."

Their argument had grown to such an engrossing level that they almost missed the sound of footsteps outside the door.

"Now please shut up," implored Wil in a desperate hiss, "and let me do all the talking."

"And why ever should I entrust my safety to you?"

"Because I've been here before."

Elizabeth said nothing. The way that last line had come out had startled her. It suddenly seemed like a good idea to let this strange girl take charge right now. The return of those two men had jerked her back to the reality of their situation and she was deathly afraid again.

The door opened as they fell silent. Elizabeth/Wil looked at the strangers. They looked back, silent, appraising. One man turned to the other

"Fascinating," he said

Chapter 5

Flin was speaking as they returned to the house they had appropriated

"The feline we encountered tonight was displaying somewhat unusual behavior."

"Yes."

The body of the house's previous occupant lay in the kitchen - they passed the corpse without the slightest glance at it

"I find them a fascinating species - an ancient and proud race. I hope one day we will be able to fathom their minds, understand what it is they are really planning. You know, they claim to have abandoned any plans for overt domination of this world eons ago, before we had even discovered it, and settled instead on a policy of manipulating the humans into serving them. But it is impossible to say whether this is the truth or not. Their minds contain a truly dizzying intellect."

Flin paused and smiled gently before continuing

"As demonstrated by their devious powers of psychological manipulation. The humans truly believe they rule this planet and the cats are their subjects. I know it sounds incredible but it is true. They do not have the slightest inkling as to the truth. Such genius."

Marcus raised his eyebrows, acknowledging the truth of what Flin was saying

"I did on one occasion have the honor of sitting in on a feline philosophy discussion." Flin's voice sounded almost enthusiastic. "Cat philosophy is awe inspiring to behold. I almost immediately found myself lost amidst the intellectual cut and thrust of the debate. One of them, a longhaired tabby I seem to recall, gave such an incisive reappraisal of the construct of harmony, both logical and pre-established, that I was dizzy with the ontological implications for almost 200 years. I wonder if..."

"Perhaps we can discuss the depths of your intellectual humiliation at a subsequent temporal node. For now, I suggest we attend to the matter at hand." They had arrived and Marcus opened the bedroom door, motioning for Flin to enter first

Flin shot him a dark look and walked into the bedroom. Once inside he stopped and stared at the sight of their prisoner

"Fascinating."

"Yes. Fascinating," replied Marcus

They continued to gaze upon the naked, supine form that lay upon the bed of their lodgings. At around 5' 3" the girl was somewhat short by the standards of a future age, but not so here. Two pairs of eyes traced their way up her body, from her bound ankles and thighs, to the mound of her pubic hair, onward across her flat stomach and to her full, womanly breasts - her hands bound behind her back serving to emphasize them. Then they drifted across her leather-clad throat and on to her lips - full, half open and inviting. Finally they settled on her deep blue eyes - eyes that regarded them with a strange lack of reaction, almost coldness. If they had been more attuned the subtleties of human body language Marcus and Flin would have found that disquieting. The girl lay there, silent, regarding them - only her naked torso moving - gently rising and falling with her breath

Marcus and Flin looked at each other, each feeling arousal stirring down below

"Ahem." Flin spoke. "We must remain focused on the task. Do not allow yourself to become distracted."

"True. We are at the limit of our mission range. We must remain alert for any behavioral deviations that might be indicative of emotional infection."

"Do you perceive any?"

"No."

"Excellent. We shall proceed."

They advanced upon their captive. A slight increase in muscle tension was the girl's only response

* * * * *

Marcus stared at the girl's body as Flin scanned her energy signature. She was breathing in long smooth breaths, and Marcus found the way her body moved with each breath to be incredibly erotic. Marcus placed his hand on her inner thigh, stroking up and down slightly. He glanced at Flin while she shifted slightly - helpless to avoid his touch

"Are you finished yet?" Marcus demanded, a hint of impatience in his voice

"Hmmm - oh, yes. The readings possess an anomalous nature."

"How so?"

"One - that collar is preternatural. She appears to have been tagged."

"Their methods are inefficient. Interdict the signal for now, we will remove it later if needed."

Flin stared at his rock for a moment. "Done."

"Two," Flin continued, "There is definitely the target's energy signature in there." He took on an almost glazed expression. "It is..." Flin searched for the word, his eyes locked on the smooth rock, "extraordinary."

"Yes, and?"

"There is another."

"Another what? Specify!"

"Another energy signature! There are two entities in that body."

"Inconceivable!"

"Apparently not. The readings are quite clear."

"Then you're not reading it right."

"I'm reading it right, man, look!"

Flin tossed the instrument to Marcus. Marcus caught it at the last second, reluctant to take his hands of the girl. He regarded the featureless instrument

"Apparently your analysis is valid."

"It usually is."

"Strangely I have not noticed the phenomenon while I have been associated with you."

"Perhaps because you are particularly unobservant."

They glared at each other for a moment, an almost electric current flowing between them

"The other is irrelevant. We will interrogate the primary target."

Flin looked at the girl, then back to Marcus

"Would it not be more logical to take it back with us then conduct the interrogation - in a place where we can extract the information from it effortlessly?"

"I think we should do it now; implement appropriate interrogative processes while we have the opportunity."

"I do not believe your plan is efficient. We should remove her from this pitiful dimension and extract the energy from this flesh sack at our leisure."

"Flin," Marcus stared at him, "look at it."

Flin held his gaze for a moment then looked at the girl. Her eyes were upon him, round and intense. He looked down her body, drinking it in. Something began to stir within him. Marcus chose that moment to put his hand over her groin, and begin rubbing at the mound of dark hair there. The girl cried out with surprise at the touch as Marcus' hand stroked her sensitive area, but there was nothing she could do to avoid the sensual massage

Flin licked his lips

"It is possible you are right. We should...interrogate her now, while we have the opportunity. However, we must remember that we are at the limit of our range. We need to remain vigilant for contamination."

"Of course," replied Marcus, slipping two fingers inside of the girl's warm cunt, "I would never allow contamination to occur."

The girl gasped as the digits penetrated her, and gasped again, louder this time, as they began to move, stroking her

"One of us will constrain her noises during the process," Flin stated. "It would be unconstructive to be interrupted."

"Excellent suggestion, Flin." Marcus' eye remained upon the girl's face, her eyes were closed, mouth half open, her jaw moving as she swallowed - her growing fear tightening her throat, "but that is an unlikely scenario as the proximity of the neighbors is sufficiently distant to make such an eventuality unlikely."

"True, but nonetheless - we should not entertain pointless risks. Sounds waves can travel surprising distance in these environmental conditions."

"Also true," Marcus nodded in agreement, "How shall we proceed then?"

"As I believe I proposed some time ago," Flin said, while Marcus ignored the barb, "we exploit the human's susceptibility to pain."

Marcus bore an expression of slight disappointment. "A sound enough paradigm. However, my counterproposal is this: we insert our penises into it's orifices and copulate until it can bear no more and divulges the relevant data."

Flin looked confused. "How would that encourage it to divulge sensitive information? Surely the organism would enjoy the process."

"Apparently quite the reverse. Females find the process intolerable unless they acquiesce to the procedure."

"How odd. Do the mechanics of the copulation process change?"

"In essence - no. It can more vigorous, resulting in some physiological damage to the female, but typically the process is not life threatening."

"Then why is non-consensual copulation perceived in such a negative light?"

"Psychological factors, societal processes and conditioning."

"Interesting. This is truly a confusing dimension."

"It is perceived the same way by males when they are penetrated by another male without consent, but this is relatively rare."

"And what of when a female copulates with a male without consent."

"Typically this is not seen as an issue. The male merely reframes the event afterwards and divulges to his associates that it was he who initiated the event and was in control."

"Uncanny."

"True. It is complex indeed, especially when one considers that the female will often feign non-acquiescence when in fact wishing to mate."

Flin stared at Marcus, then at the girl, then at Marcus once more. "I respect that this is your area of expertise, but pain is mine. And this clearly demonstrates why inflicting pain is a superior option. Humans always perceive pain as an aversive stimuli." There was a pause. "Well, almost always."

Marcus raised his eyebrows inquiringly

"In certain context humans can enjoy having pain inflicted upon themselves," Flin explained, "however, typically that is in low dosage and consensual situations. We will be sure to exceed its tolerance parameters."

Marcus looked dubious

When the girl spoke it almost startled them

"For fuck's sake do something!" she snarled. "The talking about it is worse that the doing."

Her face immediately crumpled up into a terrified expression and she gave a high-pitched whine of fear

"Shut up, Elizabeth!" the girl told herself, looking angry again

"This delay is intolerable - I am making an executive decision and beginning with pain." Flin was adamant

After a moments thought Marcus concurred with the decision. "But in event of failure to achieve performance goals we will abandon this methodology in favor of copulation."

"Of course. Now, let us proceed." Flin removed a long flat case from the inside pocket of his jacket. Snapping it open he produced a silver handled blade that looked very much like a scalpel, then pocketed the case

"Now, if you'd like to suppress any of its vocalizations during the process, Marcus."

Marcus moved to place his hand over her mouth as Flin leaned closer. The blonde gave another whine of fear, muffled this time, then her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she went limp for a moment. Her eyes flicked open again and she regarded them with a cold, hard stare

"I believe one of the energy signatures just lost consciousness," said Marcus

"A stress reaction, not uncommon."

* * * * *

Flin held the small blade over his captive's stomach, savoring the moment. She was trying to shrink down into the bed, and as she pulled her abdomen downward the razor sharp blade followed, hovering about an inch above her. Eventually the girl could no longer pull away from the source of her torment and stopped retreating. The blade continued slowly, gently downward until it rested on the ribs just above her stomach

Marcus cut a long shallow line diagonally across her body

Clearly it hurt. They could tell from the girl's reaction. Her face was a grimace and her jaw clenched, strange short squeaks escaping her as the razor sharp blade cut sliced through living flesh. She could not struggle against it as to move her body would only have increased the damage being done to her. She had no choice but to hold still as she was tortured. Flin repeated the process, cutting a diagonal line opposite to the first, producing an 'X' shape on her abdomen

He stepped back slightly as he regarded his work and listened to the long agonized moan the girl let out

"Now, tell us where you came from. Marcus - you have to take your hand away from its mouth if it is to answer."

"Oh. Of course." Marcus released his grip over her mouth

She made no coherent response; her body shuddered as she struggled ineffectually on the bed, her breath coming in short, sharp blasts.

"Repeat the process," said Marcus

Flin moved closer

"B...Boston...I come from Boston."

"See," Flin beamed, "immediate results."

"The quality of output produced remains open to debate however. I believe it is referring to the location of its physical birth."

"Oh, of course." Flin looked disappointed. "I should be more specific." He looked down at the girl. "When were you modified and for what purpose?"

Lines of confusion appeared amidst the beads of sweat on the girl's brow

"You are not a natural phenomenon, do not deny it. What is your purpose?" Flin questioned

"You are a weapon, clearly. Who is your intended target? Us or the entities you associate with?" the other demanded to know

The girl's eyes flicked between the two of them repeatedly, an increasingly confused expression crossing her face

"Are you entirely unnatural or enhanced?"

"How many of you are there?"

"Were you working with that thing or was it your target?"

Marcus looked a Flin. "I believe we are asking too many question and confusing its inferior monkey brain."

"You may be right. We will be more systematic and start again. What was the first question we asked it?"

"I have forgotten."

"How very poor of you."

"Well then, what was the first question we asked?"

Flin was silent

"Hah," cried Marcus in triumph, "you do not know either."

Flin thought hard for several seconds, then a sly smile crossed his face

"Construction details - where was it made."

Marcus looked away, a sulky expression on his face. "That may have been it," he conceded

Flin addressed their captive. "Well? When were you constructed?"

The girl no longer looked confused, her expression was now more one of consternation. She did not immediately reply

After a while she spoke. "I do not know what you are talking about," she said slowly

Marcus looked at Flin. "How do we know if it is telling the truth?"

Flin's eyes flicked between Marcus and the girl. "I had not considered how to analyze the validity of the output. Your inference is valid. Humans do not always relate an objective record of events. Rather they often distort facts to suit their purpose dependent on the context." He looked thoughtful, then spoke. "We will continue to expose it to aversive stimuli and analyze its discourse for consistency. The most likely scenario is that which it relates when pain stimulus is at its most extreme."

"If that is the best you have then that will have to do."

"You are welcome to submit counter proposals at any time. Now, would like to apply the stimulus this time?"

A smile crept over Marcus' face as he regarded the scalpel Flin offered him

* * * * *

Marcus took the blade, moving over her. Slowly, he inscribed four more painful red lines across her. The girl's grunts and squeaks of pain became long, agonized moans as the cutting went on. She tried to sink her teeth into the hand over her mouth but Flin had anticipated such as response, and held her jaw securely

Marcus stopped cutting and they waited for her pain to subside before they released her mouth

"You will answer our questions, bitch." There was a tone in Flin's voice that had not been there before - excitement tingeing his usually flat tones

Marcus slapped her and watched her continue to squirm, struggling against her bonds. "What is your purpose?" His voice too carried an air of excitement

The girl gritted her teeth, the veins standing out on her neck, her body rigid. Eventually she relaxed back down again, shuddering with painful gasps

"Go fuck yourself," she spat the words at them, laden with venom

Flin looked at Marcus. "Why does she request that we masturbate? How would this help her? Is she trying to delay the next application?"

"I believe the comment was not intended to be interpreted literally. Rather, it is an abusive expression designed to highlight her defiance."

"Ah, of course - it is irrelevant data then. We will continue."

Now they took turns to inflict pain on her, creating an odd geometric shape on her abdomen. The cutting was more difficult to do with the necessary precision now, as the girl was thrashing around in agony and frustration. One had to hold her down, while the other cut. She gave short screams of varying pitch and nature. However, she appeared to be holding back on her vocalizations - her face was a rictus mask of intense focus. Her tormentors' faces held an unholy mixture of lust and fascination as they continued to work on her

They paused just once to ask her the questions again, eliciting no useful information. Then they seemed to forget about the questioning and just kept slicing

After while more they stopped. And listened to the whimpering noises the girl made

* * * * *

Disappointingly the clearly agonized cries of their victim died down quite quickly. They regarded her in silence for some minutes

"I am forced to conclude that, to date, your pain-centered methodology has failed to achieve valid performance criteria." Marcus said, excitement now plain in his voice

"She has proved to be... unusually resilient. This is an aberration I assure you. We will simply apply more of the treatment," Flin said, unable to rip his gaze from his victim's sweat and blood stained body

"You will risk permanently damaging the specimen. It must be preserved intact at all costs."

"You are suggesting..."

"Yes, we move to the copulation-centered paradigm."

Flin said nothing, disappointed with the subject's resistance and the failure of his plan

"You concur?" inquired Marcus

"I concur."

"Excellent." A slow smile spread across Marcus' face

The girl made no significant reaction to the announcement of a change of method. She had her eyes closed, traces of liquid tracing silvery lines from the corner of her eyes. Her naked chest moved in deep even breaths. She was a picture of concentration

* * * * *

Marcus positioned himself between her legs. The girl's response did not change - her eyes remained closed, her breathing steady. Marcus enjoyed looking down upon her helpless form; it was open to him. It was his to take. He took his time in unbuttoning his breeches and taking out his swelling member

Flin shifted on his feet, alternately placing his weight on one then the other

"Why have you not begun yet - explain the delay?" he demanded impatiently

"Your ignorance is phenomenal. I am exploiting its psychological vulnerability to this methodology. Now be quiet while I proceed."

Flin fell silent

Marcus returned his attention to his supine captive. He guided his tool onto her groin with his hand. As the member touched upon her most sensitive flesh she started, her eyes flying open for a moment before shutting again. Her face went tight; there was now a small snarl where her expression had previously been placid

For a moment Marcus savored the response to his first touch of her. He began to run his cock over her slit, stroking her, repeatedly penetrating her just beyond her outer layers before retreating. The girl at first flinched with the touches, trying to twist herself away, but then she appeared to give up and lay still as her groin was tormented

Marcus slid the head of his cock within her and stopped. Then another inch of his length sank into her. The girl swallowed heavily, and let out a long breath

"Curious," muttered Marcus, "it is moist."

"Arousal?" You predicted this would be an aversive experience."

"The process will become less palatable about... now."

Marcus slammed his full length into the girl. She screamed with her violation

Marcus set about fucking his captive with enthusiasm. The girl had first strained against the tight bonds struggling against each thrust, as though she could escape his depredations somehow. Then, helpless to resist, she had lain there, taking him within her, breathing furiously through her nostrils, her breasts shuddering as his thighs slammed into hers. But now her hips were moving, rising to meet each stroke, urging him on. She cried with each thrust into her, as his member inexorably stoked her

Her body was tighter than that of the whore at the docks. The sensation of her vaginal wall pressing against his shaft as Marcus moved within her was electric His mind began to fill with pure emotion, driving rational thought from it. For the first time in his existence Marcus was on the verge of utterly losing the cold comfort of intellect, abandoning it for the fire of emotion and passion. It was a heady mix that brought a rush of colors to his mind, leaving the security of logic and rationality behind. He wanted more now, he wanted to just feel. He wanted to just fuck

Flin's watched Marcus pound into the girl. His face at first went slack as he watched, increasingly hypnotized by the show. Then his expression slowly slipped into one of fascination. And greed

* * * * *

The girl screamed, her back arching even further as her body exploded with pleasure. She was still in the throws of it when Marcus reached his release, his frenzied pounding of her groin degenerating into spasmodic thrusts as he pumped viscid slime deep into the girl's receptive body

Marcus' movements stopped and both he and the girl slumped, the tension gone from them, their sweaty flesh still locked together. Both breathed heavily, the girl sucking in air with long, tortured movements, sweat mixing with her blood

Marcus withdrew himself from her and she gave a tiny cry at the loss of his member. She had not opened her eyes since he had entered her, but did so now. First she gazed upon Marcus, who stared evenly back, an expression on his face that Flin had never quite seen before. Then she turned to Flin and stared at him imploringly with those big blue eyes

* * * * *

Marcus and Flin faced and stared at each other. Both breathed heavily, more from emotional excitement that exertion. Their faces were different somehow. The bone structure displayed a more pronounced, almost primitive nature. They vaguely echoed a Neanderthal appearance

"Do you feel it?" Marcus barked in guttural tone, knowing full well that Flin had

"I can sense it from here."

"Its energy - it is intoxicating. If we extract that power we would be... gods."

"Yes, we found it. It is ours. The others have no right to it. We can take it and rule this world, this dimension. No-thing would dare oppose us."

They stared at each other intently for several seconds, as though exchanging some unspoken design, before turning their gaze to the girl. She had her eyes closed, her face calm even though her chest was still raising and falling from the exertions

"The power must be extracted from that body. It is too dangerous to let her live."

"If it ever found out how to wield it itrself - it could destroy even us."

"We will begin the process soon."

"But first I want to taste some more of her."

* * * * *

Their captive was staring at them now, wearing an expression bordering on terror. She made a few whimpering noises as though attempting to speak but unable to form proper words

"What is it, Bitch?"

"Please, please don't hurt me," their captive implored, rediscovering the power of speech. Her voice was rich with the desperate panicked tones of one who knows they are defeated. "Don't cut me no more - oh God please don't cut me up! Fuck me - please just fuck me all you want! Fuck my cunt as hard as you like. But... but only there!"

The girl continued to beg as Marcus and Flin looked at each other, a sick glint in their eyes

"I will take its anus first."

"No, not my ass! Please not there! Please! No!!"

"And I'll fuck the harlot orally."

"No!" the girl pleaded. "No!!"

Marcus slapped her

"Shut up, Bitch, or we will begin to slice you once more."

"Though we will re-initiate that methodology anyway if you fail to please us. After all, you are ours now."

Her sounds died to a whimper. Satisfied, Marcus positioned himself on the bed, his member hanging over her head. Flin began to untie her legs

"Now take this, Bitch," Marcus tilted her head back and positioned his cock at her lips, "take it all."

Briefly she resisted, then opened her mouth and allowed his tool to slide in. Marcus grunted in satisfaction and began to slide it smoothly back and forth within her soft wet mouth. At first she gagged but Marcus insistently drove his member slightly deeper into her with each thrust, further and further down her throat, his balls ending draped over her face

Flin finished untying the girl's legs. He hoisted her knees over his shoulders and fondled her buttocks. Steadying himself he forced her ass cheeks apart

"Now don't bite when Flin reams you out, Bitch," Marcus commanded savagely, "or it will be the knife."

She made a noise in her throat. It sounded like "uck uww"

"What did it say?" Flin politely enquired of Marcus

* * * * *

Wil kicked her hips up, ignoring the agonizing stab of pain from her savaged abdomen, and slipped her thighs around Flin's neck. Tensing with all her might she twisted violently to the left, simultaneously biting down upon the member violating her mouth. She felt both the spinal cord between her thighs crack and blood began to flow into her mouth. Ripping her body to the other side she again felt the stranger's neck tear, more strongly this time. A mighty blow smashed into her chest. For a second she thought it had stopped her heart. The breath was knocked from her and she released her grip on both of her attackers

The cock left her blood-filled mouth, the owner of the offending instrument howling. The body between her thighs just slumped noiseless to the ground

Wil spat the blood of her enemy onto the bed beside her. "I said fuck you," she gasped too quietly to be heard

She flopped back, her eyes staring vacantly upward, paralyzed by the blow to her chest, her body awash with body, her mind numb from it all

"Run." Wil whispered emotionlessly. "Run or you're dead."

But her body wouldn't obey her; she just lay there on the bed, the blood-soaked scene of her violation. "Damn," she muttered calmly, her lips barely moving, "I was so close to getting out of this alive."

* * * * *

The bedroom window disintegrated in a shower of sharp, cutting glass shards. Wil felt some of them cascade over her prostrate body, the impact of their myriad jagged points lost amidst the increasingly surreal sensations of her battered body

"Perhaps it would be best if I just laid here for a while," she thought, "just for a while."

A voice at the edge of her consciousness told her she was going into shock

"Can't be," she denied the voice, "I'm too tough to go into shock - far too tough."

Vaguely she was aware of a huge, red-skinned creature leaping over her, and the sounds of violence filling the room

"Interesting," Wil thought, detached from it all

"Get up!" The voice seemed to scream in her ear. "Please get up and run!!"

Elizabeth! Wil was jerked back to reality with a crash. She sat up, and gasped as a thousand needles stabbed at her from her cuts

"We've got to get out the window, now!" Elizabeth's cry was high-pitched with fear. Wil turned her head drunkenly to look at the window

"Can't you take over this body," Wil said, strangely calm "Please. I don't think I can do it right now. I've done too much. Too much."

"I'm scared! You have to help me!"

"Sure, sure." Wil paused briefly to consider as a man shaped object flew through the air and crashed into a wall. "We'll do it together, OK? I'll tell you what to do and you do. Now let's get up."

Elizabeth/Wil rose to their feet, naked, hands still bound behind their back

"Good, good. Now, let's walk to the window."

They staggered over to it

"And through we go."

As she half-turned to put her leg over the windowsill, Wil glanced back at the scene in the room. A huge muscle-bound, red-skinned demonic thing stood over the body of one of her tormenters, its back to her. The body was a mass of blood, viscera and ripped clothing; the demon creature bellowed down at it in a cry of rage and victory. Wil watched in horror as the body of her other tormentor get up, its head still lolling at an obscene angle and calmly walk up behind the demon as it continued to bellow

"Azraa-eeeeeeelllll!" Wil screamed

The hulking demon turned at the cry. As it did so Flin smashed the heel of his hand into the center of its chest - the massive eight foot tall creature flew bodily through the air with the power of the blow, crashing through the wall behind it and into the next room

The thing that had been a man turned to face her, its head still canted at an angle that should mean it was dead. Wil and that shambling thing stared at each other for an eternal instant. Both faces were calm, expressionless - it was their eyes that exchanged a rich wealth of hatred. For the flitting instant that their gazes locked, something dark, something malevolent swam under those deep blue orbs of Elizabeth's - and Flin saw it

The moment was lost as Wil slipped through the shattered window and onto the small balcony outside. Without hesitation she jumped off, praying that there was nothing too solid down below

Chapter 6

They fell - for an aching moment that was both a fleeting second and an eternity of anticipation they seemed to fall forever

The ground rose up out of the darkness and hit them with a soft thump, the wet grass cushioning their undignified fall

Wil/Elizabeth lay on the grass, gasping - pain lancing through their shared body. The frigid night air and moist dew ripped their twin minds from their stupor and shock, clarifying perceptions with an electric charge - sweeping the clouds from their mind. They lay there for a moment, on their side, breathing. Sounds of violence and destruction began again in the room upstairs. Cries of alarm could be heard nearby as people awakened to the angry sounds of the conflict

Wil let out an agonized moan that was half pain, and half denial. "Nooooooo! Oh, God - nooo!"

The haunting, pained exclamation died away as the silence-filled night air returned, as if to smother the unnatural noise they had emitted. They lay there for a few moments more

"We must run." The voice that came out her mouth was soft, whimpering

"Yes." Now the voice was calm, flat - almost lifeless

After another short pause their bruised and naked body rose - ghostly in the moonlight. Surveying the backyard of the Inn they discerned the escape - an open gateway that lead to the back street. Staggering slightly, they began to run

* * * * *

Azrael faced Flin and snarled, exposing savage canine incisors. Flin screamed back, stuck somewhere between a human voice and something else, something...primal. Flin's body was bigger now, misshapen under the remains of his clothes, his face distorted as the bone structure continued to change to an almost Neanderthal physiognomy. The room was a shattered wreck, the furniture largely turned to matchsticks, two of the walls with huge holes smashed in them

"The sow is mine!" bellowed Azrael

"No - you have no right to her! Your species is unworthy!"

"We will see who is unworthy, filth!!"

Flin made to close with Azrael at exactly the same time as the door to the room opened and the proprietor of the Inn burst in. Smoothly Azrael grasped him by the lapels of his coat and, with one arm, hurled the fully-grown man at his enemy, as easily as a child might toss a rag doll. The helpless man caught Flin across the chest as he was stepping forward, knocking him backwards and demolishing what was left of the bed. The tragic body of the Innkeeper fell to the floor lifeless - his back broken

Azrael loomed over Flin's body as the prostrate figure struggled with the shaft of wood that protruded from his chest

"You got lucky, animal," Flin gurgled as blood poured from his mouth, unable to lift himself off the impaling spike

Azrael smiled his toothy smile and lent forward, taloned hands outstretched. There was movement behind him. Azrael dropped the smile, straightened and turned around

Marcus stood up - his body bloody and ripped. He stared coldly at Azrael

"Your species is weak and pathetic." Marcus' words spat controlled venom at the mighty creature before him. "How do you possibly hope to stand before our power?"

"Soon you and your kind will flee screaming back to the extra-dimensional hole you crawled from. I have the weapon to destroy you," the diabolic entity spat back

"Oh, no. No, no, no." Marcus looked at him from under his eyebrows, "We know who it is now - what it is - and soon we shall possess it. Then we shall conquer this miserable dimension and pursue you into yours. And then your kind will be erased from time and space - for all eternity."

"Yeeearrrrggghhh!!!" The demonic beast emitted a howl of rage and stepped forward, huge fist raised

Marcus blocked the blow aimed at his head and, binding his opponent's arm with his own, he smashed his forehead into the demon's face four times. Azrael staggered and then screamed again as Marcus grabbed his testicles, squeezing tightly. With his other hand round Azrael's throat, Marcus lifted him up like a doll and hurled him head first into the damaged wall. The huge red-skinned body smashed clean through it and disappeared into the darkness

An eerie silence settled upon the room, broken only by the excited cries of people closing in on the scene of the disturbance

"Excuse me," it was Flin, still struggling to rise, "could you take a moment to give me a hand."

Marcus dragged his gaze away from the hole Azrael he disappeared through and looked down upon him, breathing heavily

"You are such a loser," he said, shaking his head slightly. He reached down, grasped his outstretched hand and pulled him up and off the spike

"Aaaah!!" Flin, now on his feet, staggered slightly. "It was bad luck. The red-skinned freak was fortunate."

"Only losers believe in fortune."

"Please fuck yourself. We must go."

"Yes, we will retire somewhere to repair damage, equip ourselves with weapons and then pursue them. The animal will not take us by surprise next time."

"Excellent. Let's us proceed."

They moved to leave the room

"And next time, Flin, please do not let yourself be taken out by a human bitch. I can not perform all the tasks on this mission."

"Of course, Marcus. Pardon me for asking, but how long do you think it'll take to get those teeth marks out of your penis?"

"Shut up."

As they left the room, still sniping at each other, a large chunk of the ceiling caved in, burying the scene in timber and dust

* * * * *

Neither Wil nor Elizabeth could have determined how long they had been moving. They staggered along in the darkness, feeling the chill of the night and the lancing pains from their abused abdomen. It was becoming too much for Elizabeth and Wil hid them in the backyard of a darkened house. It took several minutes of stillness and listening to the sounds around them before Wil spoke

"We need'a get our hands untied and get some clothes before hypo-fuckin'-thermia sets in."

"Quite. And before we freeze to death! It's bloody cold out here!"

"Yeh, that too."

"How are we going to get my hands free?"

"Don't fuckin' know. And they're my hands too right now."

The sound of voices caused them to freeze

"We gotta wait here."

"Too bloody fucking right! If I'm discovered in this...condition, well, the consequences would be too horrible to imagine!"

"Yeh, your social position an' all that shit. I was also thinking of those two fuckin' psycho's and their desire to fuck us up beyond recognition."

"Oh, yes. Them."

"I couldn't believe these two assholes fell for that old Briar Rabbit 'Don't throw me in the briar patch, Massuh' line. Those fuckers were too dumb! Which is good, if they're all that dumb they can be beaten."

They fell silent, listening once more to the sounds of people disappearing down the street, in the direction they had come

"Wilhelmina?" Elizabeth whispered

"Wil."

"Wil?"

"What?"

"Who are you and how can you be in my mind? This is all very confusing."

"No shit it's confusing. I have an idea how this went down though. Just for now you'll have to put up with me. OK? Right now we gotta concentrate on getting to safety."

"Ummm...OK."

"Wil?"

"Yes?"

"My stomach hurts. It's all cut and it hurts. It hurts lots."

"It's my stomach too, baby."

"I'm not a baby."

"Shut up while I think."

* * * * *

It seemed forever had passed as they lay there, listening to the sounds of excited voices and footsteps. There had been movement in the house they were sheltering behind but thankfully the occupants had chosen to go out the front door not the back

They were shivering uncontrollably by now, and Wil knew they had to move soon or start to freeze. But they would find it hard to move covertly while naked - white skin tended to glow under moonlight

A figure dropped in front of them, large and powerfully built

They managed to both scream simultaneously through the same mouth

"Woah," said Azrael, "do I detect some stress here?" His handsome face broke into a smile

"You bastard, " Wil hissed, "you just about gave us a heart attack!"

"Azrael!" Elizabeth said with their next breath, trying to stand up despite the pain it caused them, "you've come to save us!"

"As always, my love!" Azrael beamed, arms outstretched as he stepped forward to give them a hug

"Oh make me puke! And get the fuck away from me." The sweet expression on Elizabeth's face immediately changed to sour as Wil pushed him away. It was a bit disconcerting for Azrael. "You piece of shit, I just got sliced up and reamed out!! Why the fuck did it take so long?!"

"Hey, I can't be everywhere at once!" He spread his hands in a gesture of appeasement

"Oh yeah? I know what the fuck you were up to, you sick fuck!" Wil glared at him

"What ever does she mean, Azrael?"

"I dunno. I think she's a bit stressed, that's all. Here let me help you with that." He grasped the leather strap binding their wrists and broke it like it was tissue paper

"You. Were. Watching it!" Wil ground out the words, furious. "An' you enjoyed watching them do that to me. You! Sick! Fuck!"

Her faced changed to a confused expression

"Watching? That's ridiculous, Wil. Why Azrael wouldn't do that, would you?"

"No sweetie, that's crazy talk. I jus' took a while to find you that's all."

"Crap. The timing was too perfect. People only turn up in the nick of time in badly written adventure stories. Though what kind of sick fuck would write what just happened to us I don't know!"

There was a short silence

"You were doing your ol' sit-on-the-balcony-and-check-out-the-show-through-the-window routine. Have you experienced that by any chance, Elizabeth?"

"Uhhhh..."

"Yeh, exactly. And stop massaging my wrists you gorilla, I can do that myself!"

Azrael snatched his hands away

"Tell her how you managed to find us hiding away in the dark here," Wil continued

"I can smell your beautiful personality, my sweet Wilhelmina."

"Something like that anyway." Wil stared at him, eyes narrowed

Azrael leaned a bit closer

"I swear to both of you that I would never, ever allow that to happen to you if I could have stopped it."

"I believe you," Elizabeth intoned

"What. Ever." Wil sounded less convinced. "Now, I need damage control and some clothes. We'll break into that house and secure some supplies from the locals. Then I can work out a plan. Maggot - the door."

He smiled sweetly. It was fascinating watching them speak - apart from the sudden and dramatic changes in tone and accent, they talked as though they were standing next to each other. When Wil spoke to Elizabeth she turned her head slightly to the right, and vice versa for Elizabeth

"Yes, my dears."

Azrael moved to the back door, grasped the door handle and twisted it. There was an audible metallic crunching sound. The handle turned and the door opened

"What do you know? It was open!" He smiled - they could see the flash of his perfect white teeth in the moonlight

"Ah huh," said Wil dubiously

"Oh, what luck!" exclaimed Elizabeth

"Now get back here and help us up."

Azrael dutifully ran over to them and help Elizabeth/Wil up. There was a sharp intake of breath from them as the cuts on their stomach opened up again. Azrael took the small body in his powerful arms and carried them inside the darkened house

* * * * *

The interior of the house was gloomily light by the moon and smelt of the strange odors that one always notices when entering a stranger's house - somehow mundane and alien and the same time. It was the smell of a history of human life and activity within these four walls. They made their way to the kitchen

"So, you two know each other then I take it?" Elizabeth inquired

"Intimately," Azrael grinned

"Shut up."

Azrael deposited Elizabeth/Wil on the table

"Gently, you fuck!"

"Sorry."

"You took those sacks of shit out?"

"Oh yeh, your old pal Azrael took 'em out good."

"Oh super - I'm glad those rotten swine got what was coming to them! Thanks, Azrael!"

Azrael beamed. Wil stared at him, thinking

"Sure," Wil said slowly, "I'm willing to believe you if you fix these cuts."

"Of course, baby." He looked at her stomach in a concerned fashion. "Oooh, nasty."

"What? They aren't deep."

"No, the symbol they carved into you. It's," he flicked a glance at them, obviously it was directed at Elizabeth, "a bit insulting." Azrael tut-tutted. "Some people have no breeding."

"Rather," concurred Elizabeth

"Just do it."

"Are you ready to receive me?"

"Lizzie is - it's her body and she accepted the collar." Wil slipped one finger under the leather band and gave it a gentle flick

"My name is Elizabeth and half an hour ago it was our body!"

"Times change, Honey."

Azrael looked at them, an expression of slight discontent registering on his features. It left after a moment, to be replaced by his almost generic grin

"Right you are then."

He laid his hands upon her stomach and concentrated. Even though his touch was gentle, they still started as his fingers touched their wounds. Nothing happened

"Ummm, shouldn't we be trying bandages or something?" Elizabeth asked, somewhat confused by his actions

A stab of sensation flowed through her. Her back arched and she gasped. Her body was instantly alive with the most intense, warm, pleasurable sensations. The room was illuminated with a dull light - from where she could not tell. Her tired muscles began to spasm. Much more of this and she was going to climax! After about a minute the sensation flowed out of her. Elizabeth felt that if her body hadn't been so battered and tired she would have "embarrassed herself" within that short minute, such was the intensity of the pleasure

"How was that?" Azrael said, his voice bearing a trace of faintness

"Didn't feel a thing," Wil smiled coldly

"How was that what?" said Elizabeth, even more confused now. She looked down her body. The cuts were healed! She could see red lines where before there had been fresh slices! Dried blood still covered her torso

"Oh! Oh! That's...Oh!"

"Don't thank me."

"Oh! Thank you! Thanks awfully!"

"Is that it? I can still see the wounds." It was Wil's voice now

Azrael rolled his eyes at the ceiling in frustration. "Can you not throw me a frickin' bone here? I need to save energy if I'm gonna..."

"Gonna do what, Azrael? Gonna fight off those two assholes? The one's you claimed to have 'taken care of'?"

"Well," Azrael considered the phrasing of this one very carefully and spoke slowly. "I did kick their asses, but they may have survived. I dunno. I didn't check - I was too concerned for your safety and I rushed off to look for you."

"Finding you by blind luck," he added

"Awww, what crap!" said Wil in disgust

"Oh, that's so sweet, Azrael. And it was very thoughtful of you because we did need your help. Much longer sitting there, without any plan," Elizabeth put emphasis on those three words, "and we would have frozen to death."

"What's that supposed to mean?" countered Wil

"It means I am getting a little tired of your attitude toward poor Azrael. You have done nothing but be spiteful every time he has tried to help us."

"What the fu...!"

"No! I won't hear another word against him. He's just trying his best."

Elizabeth beamed at Azrael. Azrael beamed at Elizabeth

Wil transformed the expression on their face to stunned disbelief. Her mouth flapped, nothing coherent came out

"You're speechless, Wil, baby." Azrael was enjoying the moment, "How often does that happen?"

"Awww," Wil cried in disgust, "this is too much - too fuckin' much! OK, get me...I mean us, some clothes. Wait, no, we don't want to impose on 'poor Azrael' anymore do we, Elizabeth? We'll get them ourselves."

"I'm glad you are being more polite now, Wilhelmina. We can indeed find our own clothes, Azrael. If you would be so good as to wait here?"

He inclined his head

"Oh, I wish we had some illumination. Could we light that lamp by any chance?" She pointed to the lamp standing on the kitchen bench

"Too dangerous" answered Wil, "we can't risk someone seeing the light through the windows and investigating."

"Oh, I think we might be able to produce some light for you, my sweet Elizabeth. Most people will be downtown by now, and besides, anyone who sees light coming from this house might just think it's from the owners - up at this early hour because of all the activity. I'll see if I can find a match for this lamp." He turned his back to them, fumbling with the lamp. Within two seconds it flared into life. Azrael turned, offering the glowing light to them

"Whaddya know? I found a match straight away!"

Elizabeth took the lamp happily. "Oh, good. Aren't we having a lucky night then!"

"Lucky night!! We got tied down an'...well you know, you were there."

"I was speaking figuratively, Wil."

"What-ively?"

Elizabeth ignored her, carrying on, "And it mostly happened to you - you were in charge at the time. I was...hiding. I think." She paused. "And you were handling the situation frightfully well, after all. I didn't see the need to intervene."

"Oh, did she handle the situation frightfully well did she?" Azrael smiled sweetly

"Oh yes! She wasn't at all perturbed when they did those...things to us."

"Isn't it nice to wonderful to be able to be raped and tortured and still," he paused for effect, "enjoy the experience." His eyes were on her, meaningful

"I did what I had to do," She recited slowly, staring back at him

"Of course you did, of course. As you always do."

"And then," Elizabeth plowed on, blissfully unaware of the exchange between Wil and Azrael, "she tricked them into untying our legs and wrenched one of the chaps necks - frightfully hard too." Elizabeth voice held a girlish enthusiasm and she recalled the events as best she could; it was clear they were taking on the characteristics of an adventure, rather than a horror

"Did she really? And how did she manage to convince them to do that, I wonder?"

"A double bluff! She made them think that she didn't want them to stick their...thing...in our bottom, but really she did!"

"Did she now?" Azrael's eyes were fixed upon her, something about them held a mocking tone. "How very, very exciting." For the first time Wil could not maintain eye contact with him. She looked to the side and down. Her jaw tightened for a moment. Then Elizabeth's expression returned

"I suppose it was really - though not at the time. It was rather scary then! It's all a bit more exciting now though. Anyway, I'm fucking cold - aren't you Wil? Let us find some apparel."

As Elizabeth turned her body toward the bedrooms Wil flashed Azrael a glare would have surely killed a mortal man. Azrael smiled, watching her naked ass as it disappeared from sight

The smile fell from his face like it had never been there

* * * * *

Wil/Elizabeth found the master bedroom and began to rifle through the wardrobe

"Ah, here we are," said Elizabeth, looking at the range of dresses, "The look a touch big but..."

"No. We'll try these."

"But that's a man's clothes! We can't get dressed as a man - it's simply not proper!"

"Hullo!? We need to be running here, got it? And we ain't gonna be getting' far wearing 300 pounds of dress an' shit. Am I clear?"

Elizabeth considered for a moment, wondering why anyone would dress oneself in shit. She mentally shrugged - who knows what poor people got up to?

"Well, I suppose..."

"Good. Now hurry up."

They tried on a pair of trousers and a shirt - both far too large for them. A belt around their waist held the baggy, rolled up pants up. The shirt hung off them. There was no underwear and the rough material rubbed against their skin in a way the Elizabeth had never experienced before, used as she was to the finest of feminine fabrics. The sensation of the shirt against her nipples was...disconcerting

"Concentrate, Elizabeth. Stop getting off over a bit of rough." Wil had felt their nipples hardening

"Sorry," murmured Elizabeth, embarrassed

"Now," Wil sat them down at the dresser staring at her reflection in the mirror, "we gotta talk, and quickly, we don't have much time."

Elizabeth looked up, gasped and put her hand to her mouth

"What?!" cried Wil

"My hair! It's an absolute fucking disaster!"

Wil noticed the reflection - Elizabeth's long, blonde hair was stuck up and splayed about at bizarre angles

"Where I come from, some girls spend hours trying to get their hair to look this stupid."

"Where is that exactly? Bulgaria?"

"Not exactly. It's...ahhh, not that far away. Now - us, talking, quickly."

It was Wil's turn to stare at the mirror as she saw how their face changed expression as they took turns to speak. The effect was strange indeed - they would look like split-personality girl on acid to any passer-by. Must be careful when speaking in public, she made a mental note

"Yes, I do have one or two questions," Elizabeth agreed, trying to restore some semblance of order to her tumultuous golden locks. The blonde strands furiously resisted her manipulations, as though they had become addicted to their newfound freedom

"We don't got time for the big background thing right now - he'll poke his head round the corner any second. But you gotta believe me when I say you cannot trust Azrael - he's not what he appears to be."

Wil watched as the face in the mirror huffed and looked away

"I realize you two have a bit of a...history behind you, but really I have found him to be a perfectly charming and...stimulating gentleman."

"He ain't a man, sweetie, much less a gentleman."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you see what happened in the Inn, when he 'rescued' us?"

"Ahhh, well not clearly, I was sort of trying not to watch what went on. I just realized that we had a chance to escape and you weren't moving, so I sort of...panicked and screamed at you. But I remember someone bursting in - Azrael it turned out - and a fight starting. Then we ran and I only really opened my eyes, as it were, once we were outside, away from...them."

"Ah-huh. So you didn't see him clearly."

"No, but it definitely was him. I recognized his derring-do manner," she smiled girlishly. "What is it about him that you find so distasteful?"

"Where do I start? You won't believe me right now if I told you."

"If you say so. How is it, Wil, that you came to be, ummm, here, with me, in this manner?"

"Can't give the specifics but believe me it was Azrael's fault."

"Why can you not 'give the specifics'?"

"I was tricked, got it? Don't trust him or next morning you'll wake up in someone else's head."

"Oh. Well, I expect he'll put it right then. It was most likely an accident."

"Yeh, sure it was. Hey, I can't read your thoughts. Can you read mine?"

"No, it's like there's just this dark lump in half my brain. It is a very singular sensation - but I think I am getting accustomed to it. A bit anyway."

"Yeh, me too. That's all I got." Wil sounded almost relieved

"Wil, are you from around this area?"

"Kinda sorta."

That wasn't a very satisfactory answer for Elizabeth

"What does that mean?"

"It means I am from here but not here - as in the year 2006 not here

Elizabeth was quiet

"Yeh, that's right," Wil continued, "that's why I didn't wanna tell you, 'cause I knew you'd freak. I'm from, uhhh..."

"241 years."

"Thanks. 241 years in the future."

"I see," Elizabeth said, her tone subdued. She immediately changed to a different subject, as though she didn't want to acknowledge what Wil had just said

"Is Azrael's name really Azrael then? I thought he said his name was Wil when I first met him, but I must have gotten all confused, as now I realize he was trying to say hello to you."

"I have no idea what his name is, if he even has one. I just decided to call him Azrael."

"Why?"

"It's the name of Gargamel's cat. I'm trying to say he's a pussy. Without actually telling him that."

"A, ahhh, pussy?"

"Yeh. Forget it."

"Is this Gargamel a friend of yours then?"

"No, he's a loser that spends his time hunting down the Smurfs, and failing miserably. Another good reason to associate him with," Wil jerked their head in the direction of the kitchen, "him."

"Look," Wil continued, "I'm really loving this girl-talk thing but we gotta..." She froze, staring into the mirror, but past the eyes that reflected back at her

"What? What is it!?" Elizabeth squeaked

"I thought there was a movement at the window behind me. If that piece of crap has been spying again I'll..." She rose, moved to the window and peered out. They examined the shadows for some seconds. There was only inky blackness and their own startled visage reflected back at them in the window glass.

Wil relaxed. "Must'a been my... aaahh!" A distorted, malevolent face pressed itself close to the glass, inches from theirs

It was Flin

They staggered back in shock, turned and leapt for the door

"Oh golly fuck!" cried Elizabeth in panic. They reached the door and grabbed the handle

"Stay cool, I've got the situation under control," snapped Wil, twisting the handle and pulling the door open

The broad, towering figure of Marcus stood in the doorway

"OK, now you can panic."

* * * * *

Marcus grabbed the girl around the throat before she could move. He squeezed just enough to begin choking her. Gratifyingly, she began to make gagging noise and turn red. He pushed her backwards, still holding her by the throat

The window shattered as Flin put his fist through it

"Any sign of it?" he asked

"No," replied Marcus, "the domicile was empty - apart from the energy." He grinned sadistically and squeezed a fraction tighter. Pathetically, the girl scrabbled at the hand around her throat but Marcus' grip was like an iron band

He reached and ripped the girl's shirt open, exposing her to him. His hand roughly fondled a breast as he examined her

"The wounds are healed - it has been here. Be on your guard, it may be lurking outside."

"Noted. I will search for it," Flin replied and moved off into the darkness

Marcus felt the girl's knees buckle and continued to support her entire weight with his arm as she began to fade, enjoying the sensation of power that flowed through him with the simple act of control. He now let her slump to her knees and changed his grip to the back of her skull. The girl sucked in huge lungfuls of air and choked simultaneously

"Now, my bitch, where were we?" Marcus appeared to think. "Ahhh, yes. I had my cock down your throat and was about to ejaculate into you. Let us resume our interaction where we left off shall we?"

The girl looked up at him, still gasping

"And do not forget - even though one of you in that flesh suit is valuable to me and I can't afford to let you expire - just yet - I can still make your existence one of pure agony should you refuse to cooperate. Do you understand, bitch?"

"Awfully sorry ... I don't speak ... vulgarian," she said between gulps of air, "Could you ... write that down, perhaps? I can have it ... translated from lower-class."

He slapped her. "Allows me to demonstrate."

Marcus fumbled with his trouser and took his member out, it was growing rapidly as he removed it and quickly reached full size after a few seconds of stroking

"Now open your mouth and relax your throat." He guided his penis forward while holding his victim's head still

The girl's eyes remained fixed up it as it approached her, mesmerized with horror. Marcus brought himself to her slowly, enjoying her fear. He placed the tip upon her full red lips, and paused for a moment, listening to the squeal the girl emitted. Then worked the head past her lip to rest upon her clenched teeth

"Open up bitch or I'll rip your fingers off - one by one."

Elizabeth/Wil's jaw began to relax, her teeth parted slightly

* * * * *

Then it was gone, ripped backwards by some unseen force. The grip on the back of their head vanished with it. They looked up, their eyes leaving waist height for the first time in what seemed a terror-filled eternity. It was Marcus' turn to choke - Azrael had him around the neck with a wire garotte. Azrael's neck muscles strained with the effort of the struggle, working the wire tighter and tighter round his enemy. Blood flowed from both Marcus' neck and Azrael's hands as the wire bit through flesh. Marcus was already bright red and turning purple

Azrael flicked his eyes to them, lips drawn back in a snarl, teeth clenched. "Run, you fool - run!"

Stunned, they stared up at the scene for perhaps half a second more. But terror gave them strength and they leapt up and fled into the night, completing the escape from that horror-filled room on all fours, before gaining their feet and sprinting down the shadowy hall. The door to the house burst open as Elizabeth/Wil fled, running down the street with their open shirt flapping in the air and the stinging night air upon their chest

* * * * *

As the girl escaped the room Azrael turned his attention back to Marcus

"Hey, baby - enjoying the party?"

Marcus let out a long bubbling, rage-filled scream as he felt the wire sliding through tendon

"Oh yeah, baby, oh yeah, baby, oh yeah, baby," Azrael repeated the mantra mindlessly, his eyes alight with excitement as he felt this powerful creature dying by his hand. The sensation was intoxicating

The window frame exploded as Flin burst through it - he rolled and sprang to his feet in one smooth motion. The new entrant upon the homicidal dance thrust his hand forward, a smooth gray rock held within it

"Die you freak," Flin snarled. Marcus' eyes somehow managed to grow even wider as he frantically gesticulated for Flin not to. But Flin fired anyway - at the exact moment that Azrael hauled Marcus' body around in front of him. An eerie grayish-green ray struck Marcus in the stomach, and he began to scream in the back of his constricted throat as his body started to disintegrate - turning powdery and falling away like sand. The effect spread through his flesh as Marcus continued his sickening, high-pitched keening. With the torso gone the limbs came away and flopped on the ground, still disintegrating. Azrael realized he still held the head of the corpse, the disintegrating effect climbing up towards his hands. Frightened at the thought of what would happened should it touch him, he yelped and dropped the head. Marcus' head fell upon the floorboards and crumbled into dust, its owner long dead

A silence occupied the next few seconds

Flin broke it

"Hmmm, I don't think I will mention that bit in my report." He appeared to be thinking out loud

His eye's flicked to Azrael

"But first, the task at hand. I said die, freak." He fired again. Azrael leapt toward the door, feeling the beam on his flesh - the agony of its touch. It was Azrael's turn to scream

* * * * *

They ran - Wil thought they were running blindly but after some minutes realized that Elizabeth was guiding them towards her home. The air was ripping through her throat and lungs already. Wil couldn't believe it - they had only been running for ten minutes or so

"What's wrong ... with this body," she gasped, "are you ... ill?"

"There's nothing wrong," Elizabeth gasped back, "I'm ... just not used ... to running for ... my life. Unlike you ... it seems."

"You mean we're ... unfit? Why you flabby ... lazy-assed..."

"Do be quiet please. I'm ... trying to concentrate on ... fleeing ... in terror."

After another five minutes they could take no more and had to stop to rest against a tall wooden fence. They leaned there, head down, gasping

"Thank you." Wil said when they had enough breath

"What for?"

"You kept it ... together back there. I kinda panicked and ... lost it ... for a second. Couldn't think what to do. Embarrassing. Don't ... don't understand it."

Well ... I didn't do much. I think ... I think I was too scared to panic."

For the first time Wil began to laugh. The sound confused Elizabeth

"What is it?"

"You said 'Sorry, I don't speak vulgarian'," Wil imitated her accent, "to that ... psychos face! You have to be fuckin' crazy!" She began to laugh harder

"Oh, Oh, yes. I just sort of," Elizabeth groped, "well, it seemed the thing to do at the time." She giggled, and then began to laugh too. The sound of two people inside one body both laughing at the same time is difficult to imagine and the sound they made was certainly not very glamorous, but they did not care. The stress induced laughter continued on for several minutes and their sense of terror slipped away with it

"Crikey," Elizabeth said, wiping the tears from her eyes

"Crikey," repeated Wil, and began giggling again. "It's so cute when you say that!"

"Oh, thank you," she said tentatively, not entirely sure if that was a compliment or not. She decided it was

Wil's giggling continued on, piercing the night, carrying through the still air. Elizabeth did not join in this time, sensing that this was somehow different. She stood there, sharing her body with this woman, yet feeling separated from her by a vast chasm of history and experience. Elizabeth's intuition was confirmed as Wil's giggles adopted an increasingly high-pitched, manic quality, then changed into something that was strangely similar, yet very different

Wil was crying

The sound devolved into sobbing and their shared body shuddered with the anguish of one of them. Elizabeth's consciousness stood away from her body's actions, unaffected yet a prisoner of her physical responses. She felt as though she were a voyeur watching some intensely private act with a horrified fascination

Wil was clearly trying to control herself but the tears continued to flow

"Wil?" Elizabeth began after a few minutes. "Are you alright, Wil?"

"Yeh," Wil replied, "I just...well." Wil gulped, groping for words of explanation. They did not come

Elizabeth tried to provide the words for her. "It's alright, you have been through so much tonight. And done all the work, faced that unpleasantness while I hid - shamefully I have to say. I'm so sorry I didn't help you."

"No, no. It's not that." The tears had all but ceased to flow. Wil tried to wipe them from her eyes, sniffing. "You did fine, kid. Real good - I'm proud of you. Remember - if someone has absolute power over you like that, give them what they want. Heroic defiance is for fairytales. In real life you get dirty if you wanna survive. Do what you have to do."

Wil straightened up and gave a faint smile. "OK, I'm sorry about that, it's just...there's so much happening...where I'm from, and things haven't gone quite as they should'a. An' it's all my fault, an'..." The tears began to flow again

"No, I'm sure it's not all your fault. Whatever it is. It's never one person's fault. You seem to me to be the sort of person that can be frightfully hard on yourself for no good reason." Elizabeth hoped that was reassuring

"I was tested and I failed. I was weak."

Elizabeth had no idea what that meant, but it was clearly significant to Wil

"Wil, I've only known you for a few hours but you are by the toughest person I have ever met. Especially for a girl."

Wil gave a short laugh at that last sentence

Well, thanks," she said and gave another laugh. The tears had washed something inside of her away and she felt better. Purer somehow. "I don't usually break down and cry in the middle of a situation too. I can't remember the last time I had a good cry." Actually she could. It was eight years ago. "You must be having an effect on me."

"Is that a good thing, do you think?"

"I'll tell you later. Right now we gotta start running again."

"So soon? I've only just got my breath back."

Well, that guy down the end of the street there could be out for a very early morning jog, but I think it's a bit too much of a coincidence, don't you?"

Elizabeth focused her perceptions outward. A distant figure, illuminated in the moonlight, closed upon them relentlessly. If ever there was a moment in which impending doom literally approached her, this was it. Elizabeth was scared again

"I...ahhh, take your point. You can be in charge of the running."

"Why?"

"Because you run like a man and I run like a girl."

"Good point."

Chapter 7

The sound of their footfalls echoed through the night. Elizabeth thought it inconceivable that people in the surrounding houses would not hear their desperate flight. But the houses were dark, their occupants asleep, dreaming of the nice safe lives they would wake up to tomorrow. Elizabeth wondered what she would wake up to tomorrow. No one came running out of those silent houses to their rescue. They were utterly alone in the middle of thousands of people

"Wait, wait." Wil stopped their flight and they stood in the street, breathing heavily

"What is it? Why have we stopped!?" Elizabeth squeaked in panic

Wil didn't immediately answer, staring hard into the middle distance

"This is stupid, really stupid. We can't do this," she said finally

"Do what for God's sake?"

"We're running to your house. We can't lead this fuck back to your home!"

"But it's only a few minutes away - we can make it!"

"For fuck's sake think, Elizabeth! What difference does it make where we run? We're just gonna put your family in danger. It's better to hide, buy time, wait for Azrael." Or failing that, make sure I don't get taken alive. She left the thought unspoken

"Oh. Oh, yes, I see. Yes, yes, you're right," Elizabeth stammered. "I wasn't thinking."

"Neither was I. And it's beginning to bug me." This damned little girl must be affecting her somehow - she had never panicked like this before. Or cried

"We must do something quickly! He's getting awfully close!" Elizabeth's voice found its panicked pitch again

Wil snapped a glance behind her. The figure was closer now. Close enough to clearly hear his footfalls. They regarded the ominous figure with its steady loping run

Dragging their eyes from that menacing shape, Wil looked left then right. She sucked in a deep breath of air, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. It helped to wash Elizabeth's mounting panic from her consciousness

"This way," she commanded, her voice flat, and ran toward the houses on the left without waiting for a reply

Wil padded down the side of someone's house, violating the unwritten sanctity of private property for the second time that night. She tugged at the top of the row of planks making up the dividing fence between this property and the next, testing their resistance

"Wh...what are we doing?"

"You," Wil's voice was cold and distant, "are doing nothing. Shut up and don't interfere. I'm gonna buy some time for Azrael to get here." Azrael! If he wasn't still on the playing board they were as good as fucked. Wil fought back the sense of panic at the thought. "We..." Wil hesitated for a moment, "need Azrael. I doubt I can stop this bastard by myself. Not in this condition anyway."

"He will save us - I know it. Just like last time."

Will shook their head slightly but said nothing as she began to apply force to the fence. A board moved minimally under her fingertips. Wil stopped, put both hands to it and pulled. The fence stubbornly resisted giving up this most sacred piece of itself, as though the fence considered itself incomplete if it was missing even one plank. After a short but violent struggle the board shuddered and popped free. Wil staggered back, her prize gripped triumphantly in small, white-knuckled hands; two long nails projecting from either end of the board

"Good. Force multiplier," she muttered

"What on earth are you planning? You're not going to fight him are you?"

"It's time to counter-attack. The enemy will be expecting our continued flight. He'll be vulnerable to a surprise counter-offensive." She sounded as though she were reciting from a manual

"Oh. Look, I really think we ought to..."

"Shut up. We only have a few minutes."

"But...!"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

Elizabeth fell quiet, a sick feeling of dread overwhelming her at the thought of the upcoming conflict, combined with a sense of unease at Wil's change of manner - she was all of a sudden so cold and distant, like a different person

Wil positioned them at the back of the darkened house, her eyes taking in the terrain of the moonlit backyard. Satisfied she turned her attention back to the street and stood, silent and still

"What are you doing?! He will see us from the street if we stand here!"

"That's the plan. Now please - shut. The fuck. Up."

Elizabeth fell silent again - the fear and a sense of anticipation overwhelming. Her throat was dry, constricted

"Please try to remain calm, Elizabeth. You're being disruptive."

Elizabeth nodded mutely

The sound of footsteps grew louder. To Elizabeth they seemed to become deafening and the instinct to flee whelmed up within her, but their body did not move. Everything seemed to stand still, as though time itself had frozen and the world around them was nothing but a painting

There was movement out on the street. It was he!

Wil gasped and ducked back behind the house. She hoisted her board up, holding it by one end, and waited, breathing deep and even breaths

Their pursuer had obviously heard Wil's gasp and seen the movement of her clumsy attempt to hide. Elizabeth heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching

Wil tensed slightly, the board behind her shoulders, winding up as though playing baseball. The footsteps were frighteningly close now - he was only a few feet away and would be visible in but a moment

Wil began to swing even before Flin rounded the corner

* * * * *

Flin was a mass of seething emotion. He struggled to control the sensations washing through his brain, at times they threatened to overwhelm him, then at times he regained complete control - the cold familiar comfort of logic and order ruling him once more. Those moments of calm lucidity were becoming fewer

Flin gazed around him. The target had disappeared around here somewhere. He had taken his eyes of it for just a moment - then it was gone. If he didn't know better he would have thought that it'd slipped through a dimensional gate. Impossible, he told himself, it had to be around here somewhere. Flin fancied he could smell its fear

There was a small sound and movement to his left. There - it was trying to hide! A cold smile crossed his deformed features as he regarded the point where his quarry had disappeared

Flin broke into a jog, covering the ground within seconds. Just before the corner of the house he began to walk, savoring the sensation of victory. It would be there, helpless, and it would beg him for its life. If it knew what was coming it would beg for death. The cold, malevolent smile returned to his features as he stepped around the corner

He had a fraction of a second to be surprised at how close it was standing, only just around the corner, and to become aware of a blur of movement

A bomb exploded inside his skull and everything went black

* * * * *

The hulking figure staggered backward, the board literally nailed to his forehead. He stopped, swayed, then fell backwards into the fence - ending half propped against it, half lying on the grass. Wil/Elizabeth gazed at the unmoving body for a few moments

"Too easy," muttered Wil flatly, more to herself than Elizabeth. Then she added, "Disappointing."

They turned and began to walk away from their prostrate erstwhile tormentor

"Well," said Elizabeth, the release of tension palpable in her voice, "that's that then is it?"

"We still have much to do," Wil replied, her tone still flat. "Like getting out of here. We need to put as much distance as possible between us an' them. All of them. We need'a collect supplies an' move out ASAP. Then I need to work out how to clear up the mother of all fuck-ups an'... an'..."

She did not finish her sentence. This was not because of the sound of movement behind them - it was for some other, unspoken, reason. Rather the silence of the uncompleted sentence meant the wet sliding, scraping noise was easily audible

"Shit."

They turned and Elizabeth cried out involuntarily. Flin had grasped the plank embedded in his forehead with both hands, and, under their horrified gaze, was slowly dragging the nails out of his living brain

The plank came away from his skull and his eyes found theirs, his face covered with a thick stream of dark blood. He smiled

Elizabeth gave a short cry of terror. Wil did not react at all

Flin stood - slowly, deliberately, his eyes fixed upon them. He managed to hold a look of pure lustful desire and utter hatred upon his face at the same time. The smile was still there - empty, cold

Elizabeth took a step back as his giant frame rose up, towering over them

"Ohhh, don't be frightened, child." The voice was scornful, triumphant. "I promise this won't hurt. Much."

Elizabeth whimpered but it was Wil that took their next few steps back, positioning them in the middle of the backyard and dropping into a guard stance - left leg leading, weight toward her back foot, hands in front of her, held low

Flin had begun to advance as she retreated, then halted as she adopted her defensive position - defying him

"Why little one - are you going to fight me?" The idea seemed to amuse him. He feigned confusion. "And how exactly do you expect to defeat me," he slid the next word from his mouth laden with venom, "insect?" The girl's reaction was a disappointment - there was none. Her blank expression did not change one iota - it was as though she were looking through him

Flin didn't register any concern. He did not for one second believe this tiny mortal body opposing him held any real threat. The girl's demon ally was not going to be coming to help her this time. He decided to toy with her - no need to rush unto ascension, after all. It was time to play. He wiped the blood from his face - the wounds had already stopped bleeding

"Or perhaps you know you cannot defeat me, monkey? Perhaps you are merely playing for time - hoping that that thing you have allied yourself with will come to your rescue once more? After all, its intervention is the only reason you are still here. Isn't it?" Flin gazed upon her blank face for a moment. He had to admit her lack to response was interesting, unlike any human he had encountered in his short experience with this dimension. Soon to be his dimension, he reminded himself. He began to circle her. She turned just enough to keep facing him

"Unfortunately that thing won't be joining us tonight. Or any night in fact as I just incinerated him - slowly. You should have heard it scream for mercy." He ran his tongue across his upper teeth as though he could taste the pain he had inflicted. "It was quite pitiful at the end, the way it begged. All you can really expect from an animal I suppose. I'm looking forward to hearing the noises you make when I break every bone in that feeble body of yours, by the way."

Elizabeth gave a strangled yelp. Wil staggered slightly as Elizabeth fainted again. Then she resumed her fighting stance, her face blank once more

Flin stopped moving. He was between her and the house now; her back was to the fence at the rear of the property

"Tell me then - who is going to save you this time?"

"No-one, 'cause very soon you'll have talked me to death, shithead."

The outburst after her long, stony silence caught him by surprise. She didn't sound scared. A flash of irritation erupted within him. This organism needed to be taught respect

"You fear me."

"I've been threatened by the best, fuckstick, and you ain't in that league. Now let's see what ya got for me. C'mon." She rotated her hand, palm up, and twice waggled her fingers. The intent of the gesture was unmistakable - it was an invitation

Flin's irritation blossomed into anger at the girl's defiance. Her stared at her, the smile replaced by a clenched jaw and thin lips. She stood there, still expressionless, her over-sized shirt serving to make her look even smaller. He became aware of that thin layer of material standing between him and her soft, warm flesh. The night breeze caught her partially buttoned garment, exposing her smooth abdomen and pressing the material against her breasts. Then he looked beyond that flesh and saw... power. Lust, greed and rage welled up within him. It was time to take what was his. He stepped forward, expecting a short chase as she fled

Once again her response took him by surprise

* * * * *

A pair of large, round, yellow eyes gazed at the scene below. The treetop position provided the impassive observer a clear view. Two bipedal figures stood apart, the male dwarfing the other one, a female - her long blonde hair almost glowing in the moonlight, contrasting with the male's short dark hair. They appeared to be having a verbal exchange but the observer could tell from their postures that this was merely the prelude to something else; with humans that usually meant sex or violence. Or both

The male took a step forward and the female reacted instantly, as though she had been waiting for his movement. She took two steps forward, leaping in the air, kicking her aggressor in the head and chest. He staggered back under the impact of the blows. She fell on her side, at his feet, and immediately her foot lashed out, catching his knee with an audible crack. The big man lent forward, reaching reflexively for his knee as the girl, still moving, pulled her feet under her and leapt up into a spinning kick, catching him across the jaw with another crack. His head snapped back and he staggered, half-falling against the house. She was all over him, a blur of motion. His hands went to his throat as stiffened fingers dug viciously into his windpipe. Shifting the point of the attack with smooth, practiced efficiency, the heel of her hand slammed into his nose - two savage blows whipping his head back against the wall of the house. She grabbed his hair and brought her knee up into his face again and again. There was blood over her trouser leg, none of it hers. Stepping back from her stunned opponent the girl snapped a kick into his head, the side of her foot smashing into the side of his head once, twice, three times. On the fourth kick his arm shot up and blocked the blow. Reaching forward with almost the same movement he grasped her about the upper arm. With irresistible strength she was pulled forward - Flin smashed his forehead into her face. The small blonde girl went down like a sack of bricks

The man stood up and shook his head a couple of times, clearing it. Then he reached down and hauled the girl upward; holding her about the throat he suspended her arm arms lengths above him, choking her. Her legs kicked ineffectually at his body - she could get no leverage. She tried to reach his eyes but his arms were too long - instead she dug long gouges in his forearms with her fingernails. He grunted but otherwise her desperate resistance was ineffective; he continued to choke the life out of the girl

The back door of the house opened. A man stepped out, lantern in one hand, musket in the other. The new arrival yelled something at the strangers in his backyard. The big man brought his struggling victim down slightly then threw her high through the air. She landed on the grass in a pile of flailing limbs and lay still. The man turned to face the homeowner, they exchanged words and he advanced. A homeowner, a smaller figure, retreated back into the house, musket leveled and followed by the intruder. The backyard scene fell quiet, empty save for the motionless figure of the blonde girl

She moved. The girl sat half up and looked around, muttered something to herself, shuffled to her right a couple of feet and then lay back down, sprawled on the grass. She had only had a few seconds to spare before the hulking frame of her attacker stepped back out of the house and advanced upon her

Fluff shifted on her haunches as she watched the struggle unfold

* * * * *

Flin stepped over his prostrate prize and surveyed her - the thrill of slaughtering that man, his wife and child still washing over him. She lay on her back, eyes closed, her legs spread in a way that sent tingles through his body. Should he enjoy her body before extracting her soul? Why not, he felt as a god already - nothing should be denied to him. He stepped over her

The girl's foot lashed out, catching him in the groin, sending sparks of pain sizzling through his body. He doubled up, catching her other foot in the side of the head

"Bitch!" he screamed, rage filling his system with an unholy fire

Then he saw what was in her hand

"Cunning little monkey" he thought as the shovel connected with his head

* * * * *

Wil brought the shovel down in an overhand arc, feeling the shockwaves from the impact run through her arms. Flin staggered backward two paces from a blow would have certainly killed a human. The shovel continued to arc, using its own momentum to build destructive energy. She spun around - bringing it down across the side of his head, then spun the other way, feeling another titanic impact. Flin went over backwards, crashing to the soil spread-eagled

Wil breathed deep breaths of cool night air, a flicker of pleasure crossing her face. The transient display of emotion was just as quickly gone as she stepped up to the sprawled figure

Unrelenting, Wil slammed the tool into his exposed midriff twice, the only expression on her face a snarl from the effort of extracting maximum force from her muscles. She raised the shovel high above her head, blade pointing downward over Flin's face. She saw his eyes register horror as she tensed and powered the weapon downward with all her remaining strength

He caught the blade of the shovel between his two palms - arresting the deathblow an inch from his face. Wil let out a whine as she strained to drive the tool down that extra inch. That one last holy inch was denied her

Flin smiled and jerked his arms upward - driving the handle of the shovel into Wil face. She gave a cry of pain and went over backwards. Flin rose to his feet, dripping malevolence as he looked down upon the desperate, backpedaling form before him

Wil made enough separation between them and leapt up, using her legs and hips to propel her forward and onto her feet, resuming her earlier guard position. She was breathing heavily, her hands trembled slightly as she felt the exhaustion in her muscles, and the pain of her bruises - knowing the end was near. She said nothing

"Oh dear, still trying are we? How marvelous." Flin took a slow step toward her, twisting slightly as he felt his broken ribs knit back together. "I know what you're trying to do." As he took another step she retreated. "You're trying to make me angry, so angry that I might just accidentally kill you. Very clever, little monkey - I commend you on your bravery." He extended his hand to her, the glint of victory in his eyes. "But it won't work - you have lost. Admit it. Come to me and I will make it quick. And painless."

She stared at him for a moment longer. Then a change came over her - her face crumbled and her hands dropped, unclenching

"Please...please don't hurt me," the girl's voice was different now, "I can't take any more!" She began to cry

"Ahhh, it's the other one. I am pleased one of you in there can see some sense." He stepped closer to her. "There, there, child, it's all right." He extended his arms wide, inviting her. After a moment's hesitation she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his broad torso. He in turn encircled her with his arms, feeling her body move as she began to sob

"I will torture this body like no other in the history of this pathetic dimension," he vowed silently to himself as he held her. Flin felt her body against him, her breasts crushed against his torso, the sensation of her thigh rubbing against his inner thigh, massaging his penis. He began to stir

"Amazing, one's suicidal and one will do anything to survive," he thought, "perhaps I should pleasure it after all, before I start breaking its bones?"

He looked down at her, smiling. "I'm glad you took control before this foolishness got out of hand, your friend was going to get you killed."

She looked up, her blue eyes piercing - beautiful in spite of the bruise swelling on her cheek

"What?" she sniffed. "Oh, no, I think Liz fainted a while ago - it's still me."

Flin's brow furrowed in confusion, then his eyebrows shot up as he grasped her meaning

Wil's knee crashed into Flin's exposed groin, propelled by every ounce of her remaining strength, while her fingers latched onto his face - her thumbs finding his eyes. She pressed. Flin screamed

His hands grasped her forearms as he felt nails gouge into his eyeballs. The right eye went with a soft, almost anti-climactic pop - warm liquid like tears flowing down his cheek. Flin forced her arms back away from his face in time to save his remaining sight. He secured both wrists with one giant hand, lifting her struggling body off the ground, ignoring the series of kicks she delivered to his shins, knees and thighs. Her struggles faded to an ineffectual wriggling as he held her about eye level - they regarded each other

"Now, no more games."

She spat blood in his face. "Fuck you, lefty."

He punched her in the abdomen, feeling her free hanging body rock backward and the air explode from her lungs. Shifting his hold on her, he hurled her bodily against the house. She made a satisfying crunch

Wil, stunned, barely had time to get her arms and legs in front of her before the numbing impact, followed by another lesser blow as her body hit the ground. She stared at the stars, her lungs a vacuum that refused to fill - paralyzed from the blow. You can see a lot more stars in 18th century Boston, she thought

A hulking form blocked her view of the illimitable beauty of the heavens

"Humans are a truly duplicitous species," he muttered

Flin hauled her upright and roughly pressed her face and chest against the house

"Now," he whispered in her ear, hate dripping from him, "tell me if this hurts." His fist slammed into her lower back over her kidneys

"Aaaaaaagggghhh!!" Her back arched and her legs went from under her, but Flin held her upright, grinding her against the weatherboards

"Now was that a yes or a no?"

"Eeeeaaaagggghhh!!" Her scream was agonized as his fist again smashed into her bruised kidney. Flin let her drop to the earth, a crumpled broken heap

The giant man aimed several vicious kicks at the girl's already battered body. The blows were powerful enough to lift her up and back against the house - she didn't have enough breath to scream and merely grunted with each kick

He regarded her as she made feeble effort to crawl away. Her progress was painstaking - she had made all of a foot when Flin reached for her again, lifting her up as though she weighed no more than a feather. Her back crunched into the weatherboard this time, her expression crumpling as the pain lanced through her

His hands moved over her front, unbuttoning her shirt, pulling her garment over her shoulders and down to her elbows. She tried to collapse but he wouldn't let her, holding her upright as he regarded her. One powerful arm was behind her back; the other caressed her breast with a curious tenderness

"Kill me," Wil's plea was almost inaudible, if he hadn't been so close to her he wouldn't have heard it

"No."

Flin lent closer, his hot breath on her ear. He sniffed, tasting her scent

"You have no idea as to the horrors you will commit in my name. You cannot possibly know." He whispered to her. "I will make you a thing to be feared." His closeness was unbearable to her, but there was no escape. His breath was on her face now, his lips brushed hers. "A horror. An abomination."

Flin kissed her, gently. She did not resist

"But first," his lips caressed her bruised cheek, "you must suffer."

Wil looked up into his dark, empty gaze - her brow furrowed, eyes pleading. "Why?"

"Kismet."

Wil slowly shook her head from side to side

"No," she denied, "it's not true."

"Then explain this." Behind her back his hands encompassed hers, and began to squeeze. She felt her bones compress, the flesh crush, the tendons stretch - the pain began to spread up her arms, into her shoulders. They stared into each other, both their faces distorted into twisted feral expressions - one from rage, one from pain. "Why does the pain come so easily?" Marcus spoke to her face, not expecting or wanting a reply, "And why does this dimension make me want to inflict it so?"

Wil gasped as she felt a bone break

"All the flesh life on this planet is destined to suffer. Some," he was shaking with emotion now, "more than others."

"Noooooo!" The sound was half denial, half scream of agony

He released her, catching her as she collapsed and hurling her half way across the backyard in a swinging motion. Wil fell heavily, a tangle of limbs

"You see, I have concluded that this dimension is a dimension of pain. Everything here lives a short, brutal and pointless life." He walked to her prostrate body as he spoke. His voice had become strangely calm and cold, like the Flin of old. "I understand why my people are forbidden from spending too long a time here. The risk of infection is too great. But I realize now my species does not understand the true potential of this world, that they do not understand that we can learn from the mistake the Nephalim made all those centuries ago - what we can accomplish if our vision is clarified by emotion."

Wil struggled to sit up, unable to focus her dazed vision on anything

"Don't kill her," she gasped, "don't kill Elizabeth. She innocent of this."

With a detached casualness, Flin kicked her in the head - knocking her prostrate once again. She half-raised her hands feebly, as though trying to ward off the next unseen blow

"Have you not been listening?" he snarled at her, rage building in his voice. "All people are wicked. And the wicked must be punished! Together we will purge this dimension of chaos and rebuild it in my image! There are billions of souls here to feed upon - to power the engine of order, of purity!!" He gazed maniacally at some distant point on the horizon - lost for a moment

Wil rolled her protesting body onto its side and spat out the blood pooling in her mouth. Everything hurt and she was so tired, so very, very tired. She hoped it would be over soon

"Nutbag," she muttered. It was an effort to speak

He jerked out of his reverie, his head snapping round to look at her

"Is there still a spark of resistance in there? Something left to be beaten out?" Flin took a step toward her, a grin sliding across his face. "How delightful."

He hauled her upright, and threw into the back fence. Her bruised body once more erupted in a flash of agonizing pain but she did not posses the strength to even scream - her body crumpled like a boneless lump of meat

* * * * *

Wil laid on the cool, welcoming earth, unable to think - her mind spinning round and round in a dizzying rush. The urge to throw up was overwhelming. She knew he was standing over her, looking upon his victory. She was vaguely aware of voices coming from somewhere distant. He felt a hand brush her hair back, exposing her ear

"Excuse me a moment, I have to liquidate some people." His voice was close; he must have been bending over her, she thought vaguely. "After I have completed this little task we will begin your transformation. You will wait over here."

She was lifted up and hurled into the air, floating for an eternity, then crashing to the ground. But now it didn't seem to hurt much - nothing seemed to hurt much anymore. All sensation has receded to a dull background ache. A thought snuck through her skull and told her she must be dying

"No," she replied to the thought, "I can't die - not me. I'm too tough. I think I'm just a little bit tired, I might have to sleep now."

She had begun to drift off into the darkness when her body rebelled and began to retch. That hurt - the pain of her body shuddering and vomiting up blood jerked her back to life

"No!" she whispered to herself, "Don't die on me! Not now!!"

Wil made herself crawl. Each movement produced an agonizing stab from her damaged internal organs. She used that pain to keep herself alive

* * * * *

Some minutes later Flin returned with new bloodstains on him. He leapt over the fence and looked down. Momentarily he was baffled - she was gone! There was movement to his left and he saw her. Pathetically she was trying to crawl away, using the fence line as a guide so she didn't start crawling in circles. Casually he strolled over to her and kept pace with her painfully slow movements

"Going somewhere?"

She stopped at the sound of his voice and, with a supreme effort of will, staggered to her feet and began to walk away. She went off course after a few steps, bumped blindly into the fence and collapsed in a heap - defeated

"Never mind. It'll be over soon." He reached down and grabbed her ankle. Turning Flin dragged the small semi-conscious form behind him as he walked up the grassy slope of Beacon Hill in the ghostly moonlight

* * * * *

She sat atop the back fence, her haunches moving slightly as she retained her balance on the narrow boards. Her eyes traced the large figure making his way up the hill. It was an odd picture, this giant of a man with the young girl in tow, her blonde hair streaming out behind her as she was dragged along the grass

Fluff thought for a moment more, then leapt from the fence and set off - following the two adversaries

* * * * *

Flin had given up on dragging her - her limp limbs twisted in all the wrong directions making it impractical - and now carried her over his shoulder. "Where was a nice spot where we won't be interrupted?" he wondered aloud

Flin stopped and dumped the girl. She cried out as she hit the ground then fell silent and unmoving. Flin extracted the gray rock object that he had previously used as a weapon. It reminded him of Marcus, but the incident did not concern him any longer. "Bad luck, you loser," he thought. "You miss out on the prize." Flin stared at the rock intently for a few moments, then seemed satisfied

"Now," he addressed his prostrate victim, "we have to start quickly as I think that body you borrowed is dying. You should not have provoked me to violence like that, but you had to do things the hard way." He grinned wolfishly

She tried to rise, using the last of her strength to make it onto one elbow

"Elizabeth," she implored him, "let Elizabeth live."

He laughed softly

"You ungrateful fool. Do you still not understand? It is better if the other dies now! I'm doing it a favor - you should be thanking me."

"No...no, it's...it's not..." she paused as she saw something sitting behind him. Her blurred vision struggled to focus on what it was - something small and...

Wil fell back laughing despite the pain it caused, something about the whole scene just struck her as surreal. That's it, she thought, this whole thing has to be a dream. This whole 18th century thing had to be a dream - maybe if she was lucky her whole life was a fuckin' dream

"Wake up, Willy," she giggled, "wakey-wakey."

Wil abandoned herself, her mind floating away on a sea of endorphins, regressing to some comfortable child-like state

Flin gazed down at her as she began to giggle and mutter to herself, he cocked his head and pursed his lips - slightly confused by her reaction

"Singular organisms, these humans," he muttered. He raised his gray rock, pointing it at her shuddering body

"Nicey kittie," Wil babbled to herself, something unbelievably funny about the whole situation now, "Hullo widdle fluffy kitty cat, come to say hi - hi as I die." She was pleased with her clever rhyme

"What?!"

* * * * *

Flin gazed down at her for a moment, frozen. Then, slowly - infinitely slowly - he turned and looked behind him. His eyes grew as wide as saucers - lines of horror etched upon his face

"No!"

"No," he repeated, "there is an agreement!!"

* * * * *

Fluff leapt

* * * * *

Wil heard ripping noises; terrified, agonized screams and howls of inhuman rage rent the air. Liquid splattered across her face and body

"It must be raining," she thought, dully. "Tears from heaven." She laughed briefly and painfully at her own reference as something heavy thumped into the ground beside her and began to thrash around, occasionally bumping against her. Gurgling noises emanated from it - a horrific, high-pitched gurgling scream seemed to carry on forever

The noises didn't penetrate Wil's leaden, fading consciousness - nothing registered with her except the blurry outline of the stars above her. She couldn't see them properly but she knew that they were beautiful

* * * * *

The two figures lay next to each other, a study in contrasts; one small and blonde - her pale skin illuminated by the moonlight. The other was large, dark haired - the blood and viscera covering every square inch of his body, serving to make him a grotesque macabre giant. A small furry quadruped was at the man's throat, ripping and tugging. His body moved spasmodically, his hands pressed against the feline but somehow unable to resist its murderous assault

About the only thing that these two figures had in common was that they were both dying

Chapter 8

Wil sensed something close to her ear, examining her; she felt hot little breaths on her as the strange presence pressed closer. Whiskers, prickly and alien, touched her face, the creature rubbed its cheek against hers, leaving a cold wet trail where it touched

She giggled quietly

"Nice kitty."

The warm presence left her and she lay there - for how long she did not know. The stars seemed to be disappearing, as she couldn't see barely any of them at all now. How odd, she thought. Wil felt numb and cold - so very cold. But peaceful too

A shape loomed over her - blocking the view of her last remaining star. A stab of fear went through Wil's chest and it seemed as though her consciousness, her soul maybe, fell back into her body. Her vision cleared and it began to hurt again

"No, please no, Flin." She gasped reflexively, trying to move

"Shhh, baby," Azrael put his finger to her lips. "It's alright now, I'm here."

She blinked and saw him now. Wil looked at Azrael stupidly for several seconds

"About fuckin' time," she croaked weakly

He grinned. "That's my tough cookie - not dead yet."

"I think I'm bleeding inside."

"Maybe. I think most of this stuff on the outside came from him."

"Who?"

"Uhhh, never mind." He flicked his eyes sideways - a look of horrified disgust overcame him

"Lo...look out for Flin - he's around here somewhere. Don't let him..."

"It's okay, baby," Azrael reassured her, "I think he's...not going to be a problem - for a while anyway." He looked to his side again, the same look clouding his features once again. "The sick fuck."

"Yeh, I think...think he go insane."

"Eh? Oh yeah - him too. He stayed too long. Fool."

"Y'know, I had the strangest dream - I thought Fluff was here, protecting me."

"What!" Azrael's head snapped up and he feverishly scanned the darkness, in front, to the side, then to the rear, wincing with pain as he did so. "Here you say?!"

"Yes, then...rubbed my face and left. What a strange thing to dream."

"Hmmm, yes," he said, calming at the word 'left', his eyes on the thick smear of blood on her cheek. "Yes, indeed. Strange."

"Azrael?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I can't see you anymore. Where have you gone?"

"Shit! Let's get you fixed up!"

"We...we need Lizzy...for that. I see if I can find her...in here."

"Why don't you just accept me? Don't be a fool!"

"I would be...if I did. Here she is. I feel her. Azrael?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me."

He lent forward and carefully placed his lips over hers. She responded weakly - her tongue brushing his before she went limp

"Wil! Wil!"

Her eyes opened once more, and blinked

"Oh. Oh good lord." Elizabeth recognized the face hovering a few inches from hers. "Azrael. Did we win?"

"That remains to be seen, baby."

"I'm not...oh, forget it. Owww," her forehead creased, "I hurt. Body sore."

"Let me take care of that." He moved one hand across her torso, sliding across the blood-slicked surface

Elizabeth lay back, lacking the strength to raise her head anymore. She tried to remember what had happened - the back yard, some fighting started...

"Ohhh!"

The warmth began to enter her, a sizzling new energy. The coldness slipped from her limbs as though the afternoon sun had touched her with its rays. Her breath flowed from her in one long motion. She felt as though she were floating amidst pure, warm energy

"I love it when you do that."

Azrael did not reply, focusing; there was an awful lot of damage to repair here. He'd got here just in time - even so he couldn't heal her completely in one hit. If only Wil would cooperate!

Azrael had to stop, any more and he wouldn't be able to get out of here. Wil, and Elizabeth he added as an afterthought, would live now; they'd just be a bit sore. Though it occurred to him that that didn't really matter because if they went with him they'd never need this worthless flesh sack again

"Oh, don't stop!"

"Sorry, ba...Elizabeth," he said," we have to get out of here."

"Out of this area?"

"No."

"Out of town!"

"No. Out of this dimension."

"Pardon?!"

"Too difficult to explain but we have to leave now! There's more of these fucks on their way!" He giggled inside. "These little white lies will get you sent to hell one day," he thought, suppressing the grin

"Oh golly fuck! Where shall we go? How much time do I have to pack?" She looked at him, wide-eyed, alive. "Ewww! What's happened to your face?"

"Quite. Just trust me. None. Had a little accident." That was an understatement - a deep burn disfigured the left-hand side of him. It looked as though an intense heat had melted his face. "Now follow me."

He pulled her upright and turned her in the right direction, standing between her and the body. "One second," he said

Azrael turned and spat on Flin's shredded corpse. He turned back to Elizabeth

"Sorry, just had to clear my throat." He flashed her a twisted grin. "Now, this way."

They set off - Azrael towing Elizabeth after him by the wrist

"Oooh! Do we have to go quite so fast - I'm frightfully sore! Ewww, what's this stuff all over me? It's all sticky!"

"Yes, we do. Uhhh, it's grape juice, I think. No, don't lick it! It's probably gone off by now. Bad for you!"

"Does that burn hurt? It looks painful."

"Yes, it hurts just a little bit. Could you be quiet please?"

"Oh! Sorry. You're probably trying to concentrate and I'm getting in the way and making you get lost or something, which we don't want as time is, as you say, of the essence and..."

They stumbled through the dark with Elizabeth gabbling away as Azrael towed her towards his intended destination - the top of the hill where the warning beacon stood

"Hmmm, this seems like a good spot for a ceremony." He turned a look back in the direction of the waterfront. There were lights burning there, even though the hour was still early - too early for that much activity

"It's like stirring up a nest of ants, don't you think? This night could be the most exciting of their pathetic lives." He smiled to himself, thinking. "Maybe I'll come back some time and make it just that little bit more interesting."

Elizabeth looked up at him as he gazed and muttered to himself

"Azrael? Perhaps we could just hide in Cambridge or somewhere, until they get tired of looking for us and go home? Mama and Papa will be terribly worried when they find I've been out all night."

"They're very persistent and clever people, sweetie. They may think to look in the outlying towns."

"Oh." She appeared deflated by his refutation of her plan

"Now, my dear," he faced the beacon, "I must ask you to be quiet as I have to concentrate."

He sat down, cross-legged, hands in his lap, a serene expression of utter focus on his features. It was like he was meditating. Elizabeth stood off to the side and watched, curious

Azrael began to mutter under his breath in a strange tongue, perspiration forming on his forehead. Elizabeth said nothing and listened intently for a while. A confused furrow creased her forehead; then she shrugged and lost interest. Occasionally she looked around her. She became aware of her state of dress and buttoned her shirt up as best as possible, tucking it into her trousers. Elizabeth was just becoming highly suspicious that the dark spots on her weren't grape juice at all when there was a 'whoosing' sound. She looked up, startled. There was a faint glowing rectangle hanging in the air, like a doorway, with a strange humming noise emanating from it

Azrael breathed heavily and stood up, staggering slightly

"There it is, sweet pea," he said, triumphant, "our ticket to safety." He looked at his creation. "And greater things," he added mysteriously

"It's very...uhhh, nice," she said admiringly. "What is it exactly?"

"A doorway."

"Oh. Of course." She looked at the glowing rectangle again. "Have you gone completely mad by any chance? Is that why you were muttering a recipe for wheatie biscuits in Latin over and over?"

"Is it?" He looked at her, startled. "That bastard Thracian was pulling my tit! I knew it! I should've looked it up." Azrael smacked his fist into his palm, grinding something imaginary into dust as his eyes stared into the middle distance. He glanced at her

"OK, to be honest it usually doesn't matter what you say - a mantra is good for focusing the mind and it impresses the tourists, as it were. It's incidental. I didn't know you understood Latin?"

Elizabeth nodded, hoping to appear reassuring, as he seemed to be a bit upset that his sacred chant had turned out to be culinary in nature

"Oh yes. The benefits of the finest education Papa could buy. I do Greek too, and smatterings of others like Aramaic. I wish I'd been a boy then I would have got to learn interesting things, like business and things like..." She began to set of on another verbal ramble

"Did you say you do Greek-style?" Azrael interrupted, his face was intense for a moment. He shook his head violently, "Forget it, forget it - the point is that this doorway will take us to a safe and secure place where those...soulless bastards won't be able to get at you."

Elizabeth, not following his Greek reference at all, looked at the glowing rectangle, unsure. She stepped closer to it - feeling a strange tingling sensation as she got closer to it. She was about two feet away from it now. Behind her back Azrael silently urged her on, as though will power alone could drive her through the doorway

"Oooh, it feels all funny on my skin!"

Azrael rolled his eyes at the heavens

"Come on, Liz - we haven't got all night!" She had jumped when he spoke, as she hadn't realized he moved so close behind her. "You can trust me."

"Oh, I realize that, my dearest Azrael. I was just thinking we should wait for Wil to return and get her vote on what to do next. After all, this is a free colony." She took one more step toward the portal, fascinated, standing a few inches from it, her hand reaching out and skimming the surface

Azrael's patience snapped just then and his self-control gave in

"Look!" Azrael cried, "There they are! They coming - we don't have much time. We've got to go! Now!"

"Where are they? Where?!" Elizabeth had turned, looking for the alleged intruders, when Azrael gave her a nudge with his big hand. Elizabeth over-balanced and toppled over backwards toward the glowing portal. Her flailing, outstretched arm touched the portal's event horizon and disintegrated in a shower of sparks. Elizabeth didn't see her hand and arm disappearing as she was twisted around, her eyes on Azrael. Rather she felt a very odd sensation

"Crikey!" she said

Azrael watched her round faced, stunned expression disappear through the portal. He gave her a reassuring little wave and smile just as she was sucked into Hell

* * * * *

The huge, bipedal creature stood there in the dark, the only sound intruding on the scene being the hum of the portal and rustle of the gentle night breeze. Azrael leaned forward, hands on his knees and breathed - exhausted

"That girl will be the death of you," he thought. "One of them anyway."

He straightened up, massaging his horned forehead. "Which one though? Right now I'm picking stress-induced heart attack from that blonde. I swear the second I don't need her..."

He looked around, scanning the area one last time for anything small and furry. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered

"OK, here we go. The next part at least should be relatively easy. This time I'm sure of it."

Azrael stepped into the portal, stooping his eight-foot frame to fit through it

"Why are these things never tall enough?" he wondered

Azrael disappeared in a flash of orange sparks

* * * * *

Flin's mutilated corpse lay on the windswept hill, the grass around him black with his own blood. It was a frozen, timeless scene that spoke of violence and dark, shattered dreams

A bubble of blood formed at Flin's ripped lips as air escaped his body; probably the result of gas shifting within the corpse - perfectly normal after death. But to any one who had been close to the body, and for some strange reason listening, it did sound suspiciously like this corpse had just said, "Fuck".