"So, does anyone else want to drop out?"
Max Zorin, A View to a Kill
THE RUSH OF FIGHTING THE THREE WISE MEN AND THEIR PET DRAGON REALLY WENT TO VELVET'S HEAD. Chains lashed and magic spells swirled as the two forces struggled for supremacy. The dark outlines of the combatants were cast on the dreary stone walls in torchlight, creating a shadow play of a nimble gipsy dancer spinning circles around a trio of hunched wizards and a massive clawed serpent.
Belial swiped his talons across the floor as soon Velvet came within reach. She jumped into the air using the back his paw as a platform and conjured three fireballs toward the Wise Men. They teleported out of danger and sent a swarm of wind swords flying back at her. She crossed her Graveryl chains into a net-like shield and dodged sideways. As the fight raged on, she was slowly coming closer to a structure known as the Hedging Altar.
Belial hurled a meteor of iron debris at Velvet. She flipped in reverse and landed with her palms on the edges of the mysterious pedestal. It was made of stone slabs arranged like a throne. Leaning with her back against the altar, Velvet couldn't see the ancient black stains lining the back of the seat where countless people's shoulders had rested.
The Wise Men transposed themselves directly in front of her. Velvet sent Urzur and Skuldi on their way by lashing the jeweled ends of the Graveryl into their faces. Beldor she took care of by hopping on the altar seat and throwing a high kick into the wizard's chin. As she was retracting her leg, her hip unconsciously bumped a stone mechanism on the throne's side.
The rock armrests Velvet had been gripping for balance instantly crumbled inward. They locked under her thighs and made her legs spread slightly apart. Velvet was bound in a magic field as a vein split open in the altar seat and revealed it was built on top of a spring of twinkling amethysts descending all the way down into the Netherworld.
The Wise Men teleported into a triangle around the altar. Velvet was overtaken by sheer panic as the wizards swayed their arms and conjugated in horrible arcane tongues. The violet crystals glowed ominously underneath her legs, and she couldn't break free from the altar's magic. Raw Phozon energy in the form of tiny undead caterpillars emerged through the crystals and crawled under Velvet's skirt. The bright purple haze of the Netherworld resonated through her bare stomach.
Velvet wrapped her chains around her wrists so she could smash the amethysts and break herself free. Belial lunged down from the darkness behind her and snapped her entire head into his mouth a swift crunch. Her hands reached up and frantically beat against his snout as she let out a muffled scream.
The shadow ballet on the wall took a turn for the morbid. The dancer's outline merged with the serpent's, creating a single unnatural form that started with the spiked ridges of a lizard and ended with the rounded profile of a woman. The dancer's slender waist strained like an archer's bow as her body fought to move forward while her head was ruthlessly pulled back.
Belial chewed viciously as Velvet squirmed on the altar underneath him. He was growling and wringing his head like a rabid dog with a scrap of lamb. Netherworld magic continuously crept up through Velvet's body as the dragon's fangs sawed through her neck and the nerve signals descending from her brain flickered in and out. She was quickly losing ground over her own body as the crystal insects took over. Her only two sensations were the boiling blackness smothering her head and the eerie coldness creeping up her thighs.
There was a sound like wet ribbons ripping apart as the dragon wrenched his jaws upward. Velvet's flailing silhouette was suddenly abbreviated by several inches.
Velvet had a habit of getting herself captured often, but Mercedes and Gwendolyn usually found her tied to a sacrificial pole or dangling from the ceiling in prison shackles. It was strange that they made it all the way through Titania's dungeons only to find Belial and his Wise Men handlers waiting in their path.
They knew instantly the only choice was to fight. Gwendolyn spread her skirt-wings so she could take to the air, while Mercedes loaded her crossbow. Just before they began the attack against the grinning and beckoning wizards, a soft jingle came out of the shadows beside them.
Chains swept out of the darkness and formed a metal barrier between the Wise Men and the heroines. Mercedes and Gwendolyn turned their heads toward the side of the chamber.
It was clearly Velvet standing in one of the entranceways. The torches cast an orange halo around her elegant hourglass form. Her skin shimmered in lively soft bronze. Her stockings, her creamy thighs, her ruffled crimson skirt, her narrow midriff, and her supple teats dressed in their royal black and gold sequins were all pleasantly captured in the warm light. But her face was still hidden behind a curtain of darkness.
Mercedes and Gwendolyn held their places. The fairy queen showed relief on her eyes. The exiled knight looked more hesitant, sensing something was aloof.
Velvet quietly drew the Graveryl barrier back to her wrists. She took another step out of the dark, revealing her anatomy was missing an important crowning feature. Her empty hood dangled down her back since she had nothing to pull it over. Her red shawl was wrapped completely shut so it decorated her shoulders and modestly covered the amputated stump of her neck. She made no sound other than her graceful footsteps and the gentle rattle of her chains.
The forest witch had been turned into a forest lich.
Mercedes and Gwendolyn shrank back with matching looks of terror. The shock was so overwhelming that both nearly dropped their weapons.
"We had no choice but to trim the blossom off this pretty rose," Skuldi said.
"Hoho. Her head made a quite an annoying raucous, but her body with all of its magic is sure worth a trinket or two. Less is more, wouldn't you say?" Beldor chuckled.
"Now she'll never have to think for herself and her beauty will be eternal. The Phozon spirits have made her body their hive and will keep it immortal. No one will miss the cursed princess of a dead country," Urzur said.
Belial burped.
The headless Velvet held out her palms so the jewels of the Graveryl floated weightlessly at her sides. The air swirled around her in bright green as her body conjured a magic tornado. This parfait may have had her cherry picked off, but she hadn't lost any of her flavor.
Velvet twirled out of the dark on one foot with her wrists crossed above her shoulders and her chains spiraling around her. Shedding a few pounds in skull weight made her body all the more agile, and now she driven solely by an impulse to show Mercedes and Gwendolyn the same treatment by clipping their wings off.
Gwendolyn turned her spear and charged for her three-quarters half-sister. Mercedes aimed her crossbow at the Wise Men in sheer hatred.
Author's note: Is this what objectification means?
