Lauren Crowe and the Case of the
Fairy's Fate
By Marcus Lycus
(Marcus_Lycus@hotmail.com)
Legal Horrors: Characters and text are
copyright Marcus Lycus. Do not repost this story without my permission.
This story is meant for people over the
age of 18, please don't read it if you are younger than that. Any resemblance
between characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is
purely coincidental of course. Especially Lady Lauren Crowe, she's like 100%
original and totally not based on any video game characters. (Please don't
sue me!)
And finally, please e-mail me with any
comments, complaints or suggestions. Remember feedback leads to more stories!
Marcus Lycus
September
2005
Chapter 3 - A Stay at the
Castle
Shortly before sunset Crowe rose and dressed.
She was still pale but was sweating less. The servants tied Bridgett to her
saddle (feeling her bare legs as they lifted her) and lifted the fairy again.
Crowe rode ahead, rarely speaking, just cursing the others when they did
not move quickly enough.
They pushed on through the night, undisturbed
by the quiet forest. Soon they were out of the woods and the castle's rotting
towers appeared on the horizon.
A troop of the count's men met them along
the road and fell in around them. Despite the late hour villagers came out
to see them and made warding signs. For a second Bridgett thought she saw
a woman's shape watching from a cottage roof but then it was
gone.
As the moon began to set they passed through
the thick gates of the castle. Bridgett heard them slam shut behind her like
a prison door. But to her surprise Bridgett was helped off her horse by a
charming guard named Victor, her ropes were undone and she was shown to her
room. There she found her luggage waiting for her and was finally allowed
to dress herself.
Also she meditated and tried to reconstruct
her knowledge of magic. Even without the book she could recall a minor
enchantment of concealment. Not enough to make her truly invisible but certainly
enough mask her presence from most observers.
She now knew something was wrong with Lauren.
Angry as she was, she knew her mistress was not herself. She needed help.
Bridgett completed the spell and slipped out of her room. The guard outside
never even noticed the door opening and
closing. Bridgett wandered the
halls trying to get an idea of where her mistress
was. She emerged at a neglected
balcony over looking the count's dinning hall. Lauren Crowe faced the count
at opposite ends of a thirty-foot table.
The Victorian woman had changed out of her
riding clothes into a black silk dress whose plunging neckline left the tops
of her magnificent breasts exposed for all to see. Bridgett's underclothes
were more modest than that dress! She had taken her long brown hair out of
its typical braid and let it hang freely on her bare shoulders and around
her neck.
A white haired platinum blond woman served
them both but the count had nothing on the table but a drinking goblet. Crowe
however was eagerly attacking her third plate of venison. Now that she had
eaten Crowe seemed more herself; her voice was stronger and more
certain.
"That picture my Count-"
"Please call me Vlad."
Crowe smiled. Perhaps tonight would be special
after all. "Vlad, it that picture you? It seems too
old..."
"This painting, no, no, it is of my ancestor
and namesake."
"The one they called the Impaler? Why hang
a picture of such a man in your dinning room?"
"Vlad the Impaler was a harsh man that is
true but he did what was necessary to protect our land from the heathen Turks
and that is to be admired. Surely you yourself have had to be cruel at
times?"
"Yes, I suppose I have. Like on this journey...
I really do not know what came over me. I only hope that Bridgett can forgive
my... rash actions. She is my oldest friend and I do not know what I would
do without her."
"Perhaps my dear you can visit her later
and explain."
"Well of course! But to be honest I can not
explain it myself."
Bridgett felt joy. She almost wanted to jump
and call out to her mistress then and there.
Then the count spoke.
"It seems obvious to me. Your servant spoke
out of turn, you were right to discipline her."
"But Bridgett and I have never been like
that, she is my friend, my anchor, she had kept me sane and whole even through
the toughest times. I cannot even imagine why I..."
"No matter. That is between you and your
wayward maid. I am sure you will resolve your differences properly." He rose
to his feet and walked around to Crowe's side. Crowe's face brightened as
he approached. When he put a hand on her shoulder she gasped and looked up
at him. Unconsciously she flicked her hair out of the way baring her shoulder
and neck.
The count ran his face along her skin enjoying
the smell of her; he whispered something in her ear and kissed her neck.
Lauren sighed contentedly.
His teeth grew long, his smile grew wide,
he sank his teeth into her neck.
Bridgett had to stifle her
scream.
***
Bridgett hurried through the corridors towards
her room in a near panic.
Vampires! She knew of them only through folklore
and even she who had seen so much had always assumed they were just
legends. Fancies of women created
to legitimize and romanticize rape.
But if vampires were real were all the legends right? Would garlic
help? Or a cross? Would running water stop the count? What about a stake
through the heart? Bridgett had no idea.
She fingered the silver cross around her neck in
alarm.
Bridgett was
afraid. Her hands would barely
stop shaking but she was determined.
There was no one who could help her and she had to save
Crowe. Her one advantage was
surprise, there was no way the Count could know what she
knew. She had a few herbs and
wards in her baggage, surely there was something she could
use.
She was ten feet from the room when her way
was blocked by Dreg and Lurch. The two freaks filled the corridor ahead of
her like a wall of misshapen flesh and grunted at her. She took a step back.
They took a step closer. She concentrated on a protection spell but it was
a ward against the supernatural. Normal people, however horrifying in appearance,
were undisturbed by it, the protective sphere popped like a soap bubble.
She turned to run but Dreg caught her with
its ape-like arm and pulled her back. She wrinkled her freckled nose at the
stench of an unwashed body and rotten flesh. Lurch reached towards her neck
and pulled off the silver cross, tossing it to the flagstones below. Her
captor licked her neck with his impossibly long tongue. Lurch took the hem
of her skirt and petticoat and began to lift. Bridgett slammed her legs together
with all her strength. The creature before her brought his scarred and mismatched
lips towards hers. Courage forgotten, Bridgett screamed.
There was a silver flash and Lurch's head
flew from its shoulders! Before her eyes could even register the event there
was another flash and a blade passed below her arm into Dreg's heart. The
two freaks were dead before their bodies hit the ground. There was remarkably
little blood just a few traces of black ichor.
"M'lady?" Bridgett asked looking up.
She heard laughter. "Oh dear, I don't think
anyone has ever mistaken me for a lady!"
Bridgett looked at her rescuer, one of the
count's men, Victor she remembered his name was. He was dressed in a cavalry
uniform and carried a thin saber. His curly blond hair and piercing blue
eyes jumped out at Bridgett. Her heart would not slow down and somehow she
knew it was not just from fright.
"These two have always been trouble but I
am amazed at the depths to which they sank. Shocking. Truly shocking. The
count shall hear of this you can be sure. Are you all right
miss..."
"O'Malley"
"O'Malley? Is that Irish? I don't think I
have met anyone from your land before."
Bridgett allowed the handsome officer to
take her hand and lead her back towards her room. She thought briefly of
her silver cross sitting on the floor but somehow it did not seem important.
Victor was certainly handsome.
Safely back in her room Bridgett told Victor
about some of her adventures and he spoke of the battles he had been in.
She described how cruel her mistress had been and how frightening the two
freakish men were. She started to remember that she had to do something but
could not quite remember what. She started to cry. He put an arm around her
in comfort. She accepted a small kiss on the cheek. And then another. And
one on her lips. Somehow her dress came undone and fell to the floor. Her
undergarments followed quickly. Her pink skin and brown freckles were bared
to her rescuer and he anointed them with tender kisses.
She fell back on the bed and he moved between
her legs, unbuttoning the fly of his tight riding breeches. She moaned as
he entered her, eager to forget the horrors of what she had endured, happy
to accept this moment of pleasure. Some small part of her objected but it
was easy to ignore. Victor's teeth grew long, his smile wide, he entered
her again drinking her strong blood. She lost all control and screamed in
orgasmic pleasure.
***
The count and the lady walked down the corridor.
Crowe was walking slowly and sluggishly, leaning on the handsome nobleman
for support. Her glazed eyes barely registered her surroundings; she did
not even notice the Count's hand on her butt.
"I should check on Bridgett... I was a little
harsh on her before..."
"Of course Lady Crowe, we are going there
now. I'm sure she will be happy to see you."
"I miss her... she's so sweet and innocent...
and I miss Running Deer... why did Running Deer leave
me..."
"Do not worry Lady Crowe, I will endeavor
to keep you entertained."
"Mmm, you're so sweet..." Crowe turned to
face him and rubbed her sizable breasts against the Count's chest.
Reluctantly he pushed her away. "Here we
are Lady Crowe, your maidservant's quarters. I believe you wish to properly
greet her?"
He snapped his fingers, Crowe's eyes focused,
her vacant smile became a look of determination. The adventuress opened the
door to Bridgett's room.
“Bridgett, we need to
talk-“
"YES! Victor, yes, MORE!"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
The young officer released the Irish girl
and spun to face the visitors in the doorway. Seeing the count he rose to
his feet and saluted, forgetting to close his fly or conceal his
member.
Bridgett sat up in bed confused. Seeing Crowe
she pulled up a sheet to conceal her nakedness.
Crowe advanced on her and delivered a fierce
backhanded slap almost knocking the girl out of bed. "How dare you! I come
to see you and find you in bed like a common street
harlot."
"M'lady... I... I can
explain..."
"Obviously no amount of civilization will
ever rid you of your whorish Irish ways! Be gone! You are dismissed from
my service, I never want to see you again!"
"But... m'lady you're..."
"GET OUT!" Crowe screamed like a banshee
pulling the Irish girl from the bed by her hair. She dropped Bridgett on
the floor and kicked her until the Count put a hand on her shoulder and stopped
her. She then turned on her heel and left.
The Count looked down at the Irish mystic
with a smile. She lay there naked, bruised and weeping, her juices still
running down between her tights, spots of blood still wet on her shoulders.
She looked up at the two men, the two vampires, and despaired. Had she really
thought she could stand against such creatures? She thought of the cruel
sneer on Crowe's face. Did she really think that woman was worth her
loyalty?
"I think you had best leave before sunrise.
I do not know if I can restrain her rage next time."
He grinned at her with pointed teeth and
laughed. Victor joined him.
***
Bridgett rode from the castle a half-hour
before dawn, her few possessions bounced in a bundle behind her. Tears clouded
her vision; a cold rain began to fall. She didn't know where she was going
or what she would do. Her friends were gone, her purpose was gone, she felt
absolutely alone in the world. She let her mare find her own way. She just
didn't care. She vaguely registered that she had entered the woods
again.
Then something dropped onto the horse behind
her. A hand clamped over her mouth and a strong arm crushed her
windpipe.
She fell unconscious.
Her assailant dismounted and led the horse
deeper into the woods.
***
Arial knew pain. And darkness. And
fear.
She was bound in cold iron. Imprisoned in
hard stone. Surrounded by the forces of death, by mockeries of
life.
Her once glowing garment was a dull gray
now, torn and soiled in many places. Her flowery crown was long gone. Her
green hair filthy and knotted and her bright eyes dull. Her incandescent
wings were dry and flaking.
She had lived many lives with her forest.
She had died with each winter and reborn each spring. But now she longed
for True Death. Many of her brothers and sisters had fallen before, to axes
and fire and machines. They had been killed by the indifference of man. But
Arial knew this would not be her fate. She had not been brought down by
indifference, but by hatred and evil.
The Count would drink from her immortal blood,
filled with the essence of life. The parasite would gain from her power becoming
stronger and mightier. He would rape her mind and learn more of her people.
He would hunt them as well until none remained to guard the wild places.
Lauren Crowe's hunt had not just doomed Arial; it had doomed the entire world.
Arial's gag had been removed. She sang a
song of sadness and despair that would have driven a human to
madness.
If anyone human had
heard.
***
Days and nights
passed…
"My Count? Vlad? Surely you do not wish for
me to..." Laura shuddered in her silk outfit and veil. "They're so fearsome...
and... I don't want... my Count, I cannot... I will not!" She met his cold
eyes with a steely gaze for a few seconds before lowering her eyes again.
"I mean... if it is all the same..."
The Count snarled, the woman's indomitable
will was beginning to show itself again. It had been three days since her
last companion had abandoned her, three days of feasting on her warm blood
and corrupting her remaining morals yet some small part of her resisted still.
Normally he would savor that last morsel of resistance before crushing it
but he had more important matters to deal with.
The fairy had driven three of his servants
mad with her songs of despair, he had been forced to burn out the eardrums
of the several so that they could stand watch. He had hoped several days
in cold iron would break the fairy's power but still she sang.
He had even found blades of grass growing
between the stones of his dungeon!
The Count did not dare approach such a creature
until she was weak and powerless. Even then he would need all his power to
drain her of her magics and her
secrets. Surely that would happen in
time. For now he decided to amuse himself by breaking Crowe's
will even further.
"My Lady Crowe, have not my servants pleased
you? Did you not enjoy your meal last night, your hot bath, our bed? Do they
not deserve a special reward? They may seem grotesque to some eyes but Lady
Crowe you are a world traveler, you of all women must appreciate that people
around the world are different and that which some find frightening are simply
different."
"But..." her resolve was crumbling, he could
feel it.
"Besides my dear Lady Crowe, did you not
bed a black African? After that how can you claim any standards at all? Even
the lowest harlot in Paris would not stoop so low."
Crowe felt a flash of anger at those words,
how dare this miserable Balkan count refer to her beloved King Botota like
that! Botota was the one man she had ever loved, she had nearly chosen to
stay with him in his hidden kingdom of Va'al and leave the modern world behind
to be his white queen. Some nights she ached and moaned with longing and
would give anything to feel him sheathe his sword inside her again. How dare
he...
The count realized he had miscalculated,
a softer touch was called for.
"My Lady, you gave your word last night.
But ask me I shall forget this matter but I must wonder how you forgot your
promise to me so soon."
"I... I'll do it. I gave my
word."
Crowe looked up again at the Count, so handsome,
so charming, so intelligent. How could she disappoint him? The insult forgotten
she nodded, kissed his cheek through the veil and strode towards the door.
She had given her word.
The count smiled. Ah nobility! How simple
it was to corrupt. With the right levers the truly honorable could be made
to do anything.
***
The servants were assembled in the main hall,
dozens of them, deformed freaks each more hideous then the one before. Bizarre
homunculi created from grafted flesh reanimated through forbidden sciences.
They were the Count's attempt to create servants of great strength who lacked
the weaknesses of his vampire thralls. Here a demented giant 7' tall with
an embedded twin growing from his ribs. There a stooped dwarf with the arms
of a mighty ape. A composite created from two heads and two torsos fused
at the ribs bellowed.
They howled when the lovely Crowe entered
and stood before them.
Crowe paused for a minute to dry her tears.
She had given her word.
She began to dance. It was foreign dance,
a shamefully erotic performance she had learned in India and done only once
before in the private apartments of King Botota after his victory over his
mad brother. Their first night together.
Now she did it again. She had promised to
entertain the Count's servants, and that is what she did.
She clinked her hand cymbals and swayed her
hips gracefully. The veil hid her face but her naked eyes caressed the crowd.
He breasts quivered under the sheer silk top swinging freely without a
constricting brassiere.
The freaks hooted and howled, some in the
back dropping their ragged trousers to stroke their swollen
members.
Crowe danced for only five minutes before
the first one rushed the stage. Her reflexes were slower than usual, and
she was weaker, but she still managed a high kick that snapped the freak's
neck. Two more took his place, their movements hampered by the pants around
their ankles. Crowe took longer to dispatch them but managed to do so, though
she lost her silken top to a three-armed creature's claw.
By then the whole crowd was moving towards
her, moaning, chanting, drooling. Even at her peak she could not have beaten
them all. As it was she was overwhelmed. Her sheer garments were torn from
her shapely body and she was held spread-eagled on the floor by a scaly mongrel
man and a giant with an iron plate welded to his head.
"No... please no..." Horror filled her eyes.
She shook with fear at the carnival of horror leering at her. "Bridgett...
Running Deer... please save me..." She cried. She begged.
If the brutes understood they made no sign
of caring. The first one to enter her was a hairy creature with a massive
member seemingly grafted from a bull.
Crowe began to scream.
***
Outside a lithe figure leapt from a gnarled
oak tree to the castle wall. She scaled it as easily as a ladder and reached
the top. Pausing only to dispatch one of the count's monstrous servants with
a knife she lowered a rope for her companion.
Her companion took longer to climb, even
with the rope, but eventually she reached the top, winded but still ready
for her task.
***
"A common harlot!"
"My Count no..."
"I ask you to entertain my servants and I
find you cavorting with them in some eastern orgy! And you, taking four of
them at once! I had not even thought such a thing
possible!"
"Please my Count they made
me..."
"Made you? That poor excuse has been used
by every fallen woman in history from Eve to today. We both know that such
things only happen to licentious women who crave it."
Crowe fell silent. How many times had she
heard that in her life? How many times had she said it to her comrades? Her
lost comrades. The Count was right. She was the lowest of the
low.
She stood before him filthy, dressed only
in a sheet. He had found her with his servants in a quite compromising
position.
"From this day forth you are no longer a
guest here Lauren Crowe. You will serve me at a scullery maid until such
time as you learn to control your wanton desires."
"Y-yes" she said meekly.
"Yes what?"
"Yes... master."
She lowered her eyes in
submission.
***
"Your crystal can locate the
spirit?"
"I believe so, it was hard without my spellbook
but I think..."
"Then go. I will find Brave
Crow."
"Are you sure, she seemed to be under the
Count's control. Can we even trust her?"
"Do you suggest I leave
her?"
"No of course not-"
"Go! I will deal with Brave
Crowe."