My Adventures with Ladies of a MonstrousPersuasion.
Chapter 4 - A Grave Encounter
"Mr Damp, you and your lady are in very grave danger, you must leave now!"
I struggled to comprehend the words of my strange companion as she suddenly wrenched me towards the doors, my shoes slipping on the polished marble floor. I glanced towards Fyren's scared face as she was hauled by her acquaintance alongside. Suddenly the grand ballroom echoed to the sound of angry shouts as the crowd turned on us and several massive waiters moved to block the doors. Seeing this my companion rapidly charged forwards, dragging me helplessly as she crashed through them sending the guards flying into the air. Her skirt billowed out and I was startled to see a pair of cloven hooves clacking on the wood floor of the long corridor we found ourselves in. But my amazement was short lived as a large group of inhumanly large masked guards blocked the front door, they grunted with laughter as the readied crude cudgels.
Fyren, our two companions and I, closed ranks trying to keep our foes in view as more raced in behind us. We charged again, my lady companion's hair flattening as it impacted a guard, revealing two curled horns. The guard crumpled under the force crashing into his fellows with a great deal of cursing. Meanwhile Fyren's equally strange consort leapt into the air with the grace of an acrobat, his long thin fingers slashing at the enemy, whilst long legs kicked out in a stunning roundhouse. I felt humbled by my Queensberry schooled boxing skills, but lept into the fray as Fyren cut at our attackers with her short black claws. But the odds were against us, our companions shoved Fyren and I through the doors as the angry mob swallowed them up. Finding ourselves outside in the cold air, I shoved Fyren into a waiting carriage and slammed the door. I readied myself to climb up into the driver's seat when a loud crack split the night.
An excruciating pain ripped through my shoulder, my mind blurred as I fought to suppress the agony and stay focused on our escape. I looked up at the smiling handsome face of our former host as he sat astride a powerful white horse and the grey smoke spiralling from a pistol in his right hand. There was clatter of hooves as the carriage suddenly sped away, Fyren looked desperately out at me, her flaming eyes glittering in the night, before being dragged back inside by a brutish hand.
The pain made me want to sleep but I refused. With a roar of adrenaline, I pushed myself to my feet and dragged the man from his horse. As he crashed into the mud I hauled myself up, kicking the horse into a gallop and stared dead ahead at the distant lights of the escaping carriage. A shot whistled past me, causing the horse to bolt forward and I struggled to hold on as the pain numbed my arm. The carriage ahead rocked for a while, as it seemed Fyren was trying to fight off her kidnappers. But after a blow that sent the carriage on two wheels, the carriage settled as my heart sank.
I struggled to keep on their tail as they weaved and bumped down side streets. For a moment I thought I'd lost them, but as I slowed a shout to my left caught my attention and I saw the carriage halted outside a massive building. I painfully dismounted and watched as the shadows of two men carried Fyren inside, my heart was lifted by a slight flicker of red light told me she was still alive. I ran after them as they disappeared through some heavy oak doors, but as I rammed into them I painfully realised they had been locked. Dismayed, I searched about for a way in, a brass plate read The Royal College of Surgeons, but there was no way of opening those heavy doors. Running along the side of the building I was relieved to see a small basement window hanging open, I winced as pushed my way through and crashed to the floor with a cry of agony.
It took me a minute to catch my breath as I blindly grasped the edge of a large table and pulled myself to feet. But the sight that greeted me nearly sent back to the floor, as I saw the corpse of a young woman stretched out on the marble topped table. She lay peacefully on her back as if she was just asleep, her attractive face fixed in a slight smile amongst curled ribbons of short black hair. I'd thought she was just sleeping if it wasn't for the blue pallor of her skin and the horrifically crude stitches that ran from between her small pert breasts down her abdomen to the dark fuzz of her pubic hair. I had to remind myself to respect the dead as I pulled my eyes away from her nudity and searched the room for a door out.
The room was a grim place as lines of glass specimen jars filled the shelves, their gruesome contents floating in a disturbing manner. I had to tell myself they were all dead and harmless, even as I was sure a lone eyeball was watching me. Trays of cruel looking stained surgical instruments lay on long tables, glinting in the moonlight. I was mystified as to the purpose of the strange callipers and sharp saws, but I doubted they could be beneficial to anyone's health. Finding the door, I slowly pulled it open, cringing as a loud creak echoed down the empty hallway. As I leaned out, I heard something that made my blood run cold.
"Err, excuse me" Came a raspy female voice and I gulped as I realised the voice came from behind me. Turning slowly, I heard the soft grunts of someone trying to sit up and I stared in terror as the formerly dead woman sat up on the table and looked at me with a pale eye.
She peered at me, trying to figure out who I was before suddenly screeching, "who in the hell are you?"
But my brain had become consumed by fear and I just stood there slack jawed, staring at the naked corpse glaring at me.
"Hey, stop gawping at me like that, you fucking pervert, have some respect for the dead." She tried to shout as she stiffly covered herself with her hands. "Now give me that coat on the door, yeah the white one you damn idiot."
I moved stupefied like a marionette, grabbing the long lab coat from a hook and tossing it to her. She awkwardly grabbed it and struggled to put it on, before looking down to button it up and shrieking, "Oh for fuck sake, what have they done to me?" She pulled at the heavy stitches with irritation, "which moron did these, I hope they never perform on anyone." She suddenly felt her face and screamed, "Now where in the hells is my eye?"
She covered her existing eye and blindly looked about the room, I could faintly hear a swishing noise from the glass jars on the shelves. With a cry of, "there you are," she clumsily leapt down from the table, the coat fanning out as she grabbed the jar off the shelf. Reaching inside she pulled out the floating eye and in a move that made me dizzy, tied the nerve ending from the eye to her socket together. Popping the eye back in, she blinked, looking about and grinning like a magician after performing a trick.
My curiosity got the better of me and I nervously asked, "can you see through that eye?"
"Blimey you can talk, I thought you were some mute, idiot for minute," she laughed hoarsely. "I can see vague shapes, though it'll improve over the next month or so, if I don't get butchered again."
She sighed with frustration and grabbed a scalpel from the surgical tools, cutting swiftly through the threads of her stitches. Then I almost lost my dinner, lunch and breakfast as she pulled open her chest, revealing a shattered rib cage.
"What the fuck did they use, a sledgehammer?" She cried in anger and frustration as she carefully put aside the loose chunks of bone, then gently pulled apart her rib cage. Feeling around inside she breathed a sigh of relief and I was disturbed to see her lungs juddering as she did so.
"At least I'm all in there, but everything is messed up, you'd thought they'd learned something about anatomy from all this." She sighed as she delicately re-arranged her internal organs. Her lungs began to move easier and her heart beat more smoothly as everything was untangled. Satisfied, she secured her ribcage with a lattice work of bandages and thread, before neatly sewing her chest back up with the skill of seamstress. Though she was nowhere near a healthy human tone, there was a definite improvement as she stood and buttoned up the coat over slightly rosy breasts. She looked brighter in the face and she smiled broadly as if full of life, though the left eye was still cloudy.
"Do feel you, feel any better?" I asked cautiously, feeling rather overwhelmed by what I'd just witnessed. I felt a little green as I leaned on a table and took a deep breath to calm myself.
"Oh God yes," she said with relief, her voice now loud and clear with a strong East London accent. "I certainly feel better than you look," she laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.
The sudden crack of pain sent me to my knees as the clap re-awakened the bullet wound, sending stars blazing across my eyes.
"Woah, I didn't hit you that hard mate." She said with a laugh that turned to shock as she saw the blood staining my shirt and cried "What in the hell happened to you, shit is that a bullet wound?"
I groaned I vague affirmation and collapsed to the floor. She rummaged among the surgical tools and found a pair of slim tweezers, looking at them dubiously. Before I could prepare myself she jabbed them into the wound and I screamed so loud that I must have woken the entire street.
"Shit, sorry," said my would be surgeon in alarm, "I kind of forget about pain." Searching through drawers and desks she eventually found a bottle of whisky of a cheap vintage. Tipping it down my grateful throat, it took the edge off when she poured it into the wound, finally she drank half the of bottle in one gulp with a sigh.
"I'd rather you didn't drink during surgery," I winced warily.
"Don't worry, booze doesn't affect me anymore," she said with sad sigh. "But it's great for loosening me up, now if you stop being such a ruddy baby I'll sort it out for you."
I was about enquire about the rot, when she jabbed the tweezers into my shoulder and I howled with pain once again. With some painful rummaging she suddenly wrenched the small ball out and looked at it with interest.
"There you go, see it was only little one," she said dropping it with a clink into a tray. "You should see some of the whoppers I've had to pull out of me, people don't take kindly to the dead walking around."
I gave her nauseous smile and politely replied, "you don't say." Before wincing with pain as she poured more scotch into the wound and bandaged it up.
"There it should be fine as long you keep the wound clean," she said with satisfaction as she made a makeshift sling. "To be frank I don't know why you're making such a fuss about it."
"Sorry I haven't been shot in while," I said ruefully. "I glad that you really know your medicine."
"Let's just say I had to learn fast," she laughed as she rubbed the centre of chest. "Though I certainly know more than some of the idiots here."
As if on cue, there was a series of shouts from far down the hallways, the stillness of the room vanished as my purpose burst through my pain and whiskey addled mind.
"Fyren!" I shouted and staggered towards the door. My new friend jumped back with a start and looked at me confused, I staggered forward, pushing the door open and looked out into the long empty corridor.
"Please be careful with that shoulder," she cried after me as she followed me to the door.
Remembering my courtesies, I clasped her surprisingly cold hands and gave my thanks as her cheeks blushed purple at my touch. "Sorry, but I have to go and see if my friend is okay. I'll make sure to pay you back when I can, actually I never caught your name my lady."
She blushed again at my formality and paused for a moment as if trying to remember. "It is, D'drella!" She said with a dramatic flourish that caused her lab coat to flare out immodestly. I blinked at the oddness of the name and the sudden flash of her body. I had no time to wonder where it came from. So I thanked her by name this time and shot off down the corridor.
The corridors were dark and empty, I ran down one then another, my boots squeaking on the polished floors. I could hear rough shouts from somewhere in the building, but the echoes of the shadow filled halls made them difficult to pin point. I peered into dark rooms filled with nightmarish specimens and skeletons, that looked either human, animal or both. An impossibly huge snake skeleton caught my eye as a cold hand fell on my shoulder and I spun around in shock. I was only slightly relieved to see D'drella's grey eyes smiling back at me.
"You could at least tell me your name before you dash off," she panted. "I didn't know what to yell after you, I don't move to fast on these legs you know."
"Oh it's err, Godric," I replied a little bemused. "Look Miss D'drella, my friend and I are in trouble with some very nasty people. I don't want you getting caught up, as soon as I find her we'll be out of here. It might be best if you lay low till everyone has gone."
"You think they'll be nice to me if they find me," D'drella said with sudden seriousness as she looked at the jars behind me, "How many of those jars do you think they could fill with bits of me, I can feel them even when they aren't attached you know."
A shudder went through me at the thought of being able to feel my parts as they floated in formaldehyde for eternity. D'drella saw my blanche and gave me a smile that acknowledged that I understood and said that I barely comprehended the true horror.
"Very well," I said with a sigh. "But stay close and be ready to run, I just hope we get to her before she ends up in jars.
We both looked warily at a two headed lamb that looked ready to burst out and into our nightmares. Another shout that seemed closer this time echoed towards us, it sounded like 'there she is' and I was given fresh hope. Rushing off with D'drella limping behind, she swigged from what looked like a bottle of medicinal alcohol, causing her knees to noticeably loosen and she started to keep pace.
I looked through a line of windows that looked upon a dark courtyard, a dry fountain was surrounded by overgrown shrubberies. Though what caught my eye was on the floor above, a lantern was moving at speed opposite, large silhouetted figures moved with purpose to the left. I headed in their direction hoping to meet some stairs and whomever they were chasing. With delight I spotted some stairs and as I put my hand on the banister, I heard a skittering clicking as a dark shape rounded the flight above.
Fyren's red eyes lit the darkness as she leapt towards me claws raised. She slammed me to the floor, causing my shoulder to scream with pain and was preparing to strike when she recognised me.
"Godric!" Fyren cried with relied and hugged my face against her illustrious bosom. I wanted to stay there forever, but Fyren suddenly leapt off, ready to attack. Her eyes blazed at as she saw D'drella and both ladies said in unison, "What the Hell are you?"
This was no time for introductions as a gruff voice shouted, "they're downstairs." So I grabbed both ladies by the hands and dragged then after me, D'drella's dead weight pulling painfully on my shoulder. We raced down the corridors as I tried to retrace my route back to the window I had entered. After a few false turns, we made it, locking door and we moved some furniture to barricade it.
But there was no time to rest, with some effort I heaved Fyren up and pushed her out of the window. Her already torn dress ripped on the latch as I tried not to look straight up to her lacy underwear. D'drella was busy tipping surgical tools, strange bottles and to my horror a few specimen jars into a large leather bag. She then boosted me through the window and hurled the bag after me. As Fyren and I pulled D'drella up, the locked door exploded inwards, reducing the chairs we'd placed to splinters. A huge man emerged into the moonlight, his small eyes peering along a pig like snout and a cruel smile on his lips. With one last heave we yanked D'drella through, just as the 'man' smashed against the window and sent glass flying as the metal framework bent.
Fortunately, the window was far too small for him and he grunted with rage as we scrambled to our feet. Running along the building we came to the carriage Fyren had arrived in, we climbed inside as D'drella swung up top and yanked the horses into motion. Fyren and I collapsed into the seats and I watched the streets flash past as we headed east, listened to D'drella laughing as the carriage lurched through the traffic. The wide streets of the City gave way to the narrow tenements of the East End as the slums of London enveloped us. My sense of apprehension grew as grim dimly lit alleys wound off into the fog, I had to trust that D'drella was taking us to a safe place, I just hoped the dead had more honour than the living.
Fyren had dozed off, she must have been running from our foes for quite some time, whilst I was gallivanting about D'drella. So I let her sleep as she leant against the window, gently bumping her heavy head as the carriage rocked. I was starting to fall asleep myself as the woozy feeling in my head grew and my shoulder throbbed. Then suddenly the carriage took a sharp turn through an archway and we clattered to a halt in the courtyard of a decaying coaching inn. I heard the creak of a swaying sign that showed a buxom woman with a curling pink fish tail and a slightly manic smile. Unsurprisingly the words 'The Mermaid Inn' were painted in elaborate script beneath her, though I had to squint to make out the faded text. The warm glow through the windows and hubbub of drunken laughter did feel welcoming, but I worried about my companion's as Fyren cautiously peered from behind me.
D'drella told us to wait a moment as we huddled around the back door to the bar and watched her stride up to the barman.
"Watcha Jack!" She said, loudly slapping him on the back. He jumped into the air with a girlish scream and nearly dropped the glass he had been polishing. He spun around to face her with a nervous expression, he stammered. "Oh, hello there Deirdre. You back from err, your business?"
"Don't call me that," he replied with a sharp tone, before snapping. "I would have been back sooner if the boys had fetched me when they were supposed to."
The barman looked even more uncomfortable, "sorry Deir... I mean D'drella," he fumbled as he glanced at two thugs sleeping by the fire. "The boys had a few too many and err, we thought you'd be okay till morning."
"Do I look okay?" D'drella hissed, opening her coat slightly to show him the line of stitches. The barman went a little green at the sight, before D'drella demanded, "forget all that, where's my share?"
Reluctantly he pulled a small purse from under the counter and plonked it in her hand with a light 'chink.' D'drella looked inside dubiously and raised her eyebrow at the shaking barman.
"I get short changed again I see," she said irritably, but before he could stutter an excuse, she continued. "But you can make it up to me by doing some food for some friends of mine, they're going to be staying in my rooms downstairs, so I'll need more blankets too. Also there's also a carriage out back that needs to disappear, I know you can get that sorted out."
The barman did not look happy at the thought of what kind of folk would be D'drella's friends, I wondered if his mind conjured up anything like Fyren. "Sure thing Marm, you and your..." he gulped, " friends can stay as long as you like and I'll get a message to the Jameson's about the carriage."
"Good man" said D'drella with an unnerving smile. "Now we'll be heading down so if you could have something to eat sent down to us with some ale, that would be fantastic." She patted him on the cheek with a hand so cold it sent a shudder right through him. D'drella then motioned us to follow and we slipped in after her. The poor barman gave me a wan smile, but the look of terror when he saw Fyren made me think he'd made a mess of his britches.
Leaving the now relieved barman, we headed down into the inn's cellar and peered into the cavernous vaults disappearing behind rows of kegs and wine racks. D'drella carefully handed me a lantern and led us through a few chambers until we entered a side room that had more comfortable furnishings.
"Godric, do you mind lighting the other lamps and having a go at the fire?" D'drella said apprehensively as the lamp light flickered in her pale eyes. "I'm a little funny about fire, I don't usually have anything burning when I'm here on my own."
I said it wouldn't be a problem and set about bringing some warmth to the cold room. As the light illuminated the dilapidated furniture, D'drella fussed about trying to smarten a room that hadn't had guests in a long while. An ancient four post bed filled one side, whilst a dressing table leaned against a wall looking like it doubled as a butcher's slab. Torn mismatched armchairs sat around the feeble fire in the grate, as I cursed at the damp wood.
"Sorry about the poor lodgings," said D'drella casually, though a blush betrayed her embarrassment.
"It's fine, you should see the state of Godric's abode," said Fyren laughed trying to make D'drella feel more at ease.
"Sorry I was too busy rescuing maidens to put a duster round," I sulked defensively.
"Oh yes, my apologies I forgot my noble Sir Damp." Fyren said sarcastically with a bow.
"I get the feeling there's a bit of story here," commented D'drella as she raised an eyebrow.
"You could say that," I replied, looking at Fyren as we both sighed.
We sat in the armchairs and told D'drella our sorry story, Fyren would chip in occasionally with her side and to correct my exuberant exaggerations. Food arrived part way through and we were greatly relieved to fill our bellies, though I was slightly disturbed by how raw D'drella's steak was. Once our sorry story was completed she laughed saying, "...and I thought I lived an interesting life or death or whatever you want to call this?"
Fyren looked awkward and said shyly, "do you mind if ask...?"
"...how I ended up like this?" finished D'drella with a sigh and Fyren apologised with embarrassment.
"Well I now know about you, so I guess it's only fair," D'drella shrugged. "Though it's not a wild a time as yours."
"Doesn't matter,"I said with a smile, "I admit I am curious to know more about you."
D'drella blushed and said coquettishly, "you can learn as much about me as you wish, Godric." Crossing her legs in such a way to remind me that she was wearing, absolutely nothing under that lab coat. I blushed slightly and took and pretended to be interested in the fire, whilst Fyren's flames flared as her eyes narrowed at D'drella.
Fyren coughed politely, "So Miss D'drella, what did happen to you?"
D'drella gave her a knowing smile and began her tale with a sardonic tone. "Well once upon a time on a mysterious misty evening, there was a young maiden of impoverished means struggling to make living." I gave her a look to be serious, so D'drella coughed and began again.
"Back when I was a hot blooded living young woman, I helping unload cargo off a ship from some far off place. When this horrific little creature shot out of the dark and sank its teeth into me, before I could smash its bloody head in. I got really sick after that and was constantly hungry, nothing I ate could sate it." D'drella went quiet for a while before continuing with what were clearly unpleasant memories. "Things got a bit blurry after that, but there was lots of hunger, pain and a great fire. Eventually I came to my senses strapped to some crazy old guy's chair, with a load of stitches all over me. I'm not sure what he did, but I was thinking clearly for the first time in ages, even if I stank of alcohol."
D'drella took a swig from a bottle and offered it to me, which I politely declined. She then continued, "It seems the booze keeps me on an even keel, though the occasional rare steak helps too. I made my way back here and scratched a living on the streets, only to run down by some crazy lady riding a horse so badly she was practically it's head. Then things went dark again for long time after that, then I woke..." D'drella went quiet again and started fidgeting with wide eyes staring blankly.
"You don't have to tell us if it's too painful," I said tenderly placing a hand on her bony knee. The touch seemed to bring her back from whatever hell she been lost in and she took another swig from the bottle.
"It's okay," D'drella said after a deep breath and stammered. "I woke up, in a coffin, six feet under. I'm not sure how long I was in there, but it seemed an eternity." A shudder went through me and Fyren at the nightmarish thought, but D'drella soldiered on with her tale. "Eventually I got lucky and a pair of grave robbers dug me up, but by then I so far gone that I nearly killed them. Fortunately, they managed to fight me off and after a drink or two we struck up a partnership."
Fyren and I looked at each other a little bemused as D'drella took another swig. "Now doctors and scientists will pay good money for corpses, but it's a dangerous and grizzly job, with the noose waiting for anyone caught. So we hit upon the idea of selling me as a corpse to these rich fools and I'd scarper to do it all again somewhere else. We've made quite a bit this way, but the hard part is lying there for ages whilst money changes hands and what not. So this time I thought I'd experiment with some opiates, to see if they'd help and they knocked me for six. The next thing I knew someone had rummaged around with my insides and you were making an absolute racket."
She smiled at me as she finished and I blinked as I took it all in. It was a horrific tale, though I couldn't help but be impressed at how she stayed so chipper and had even turned things to her advantage.
"Thank you for telling us all this, D'drella," I said kindly. "Our adventures have been hair raising, but I'd never swap them for yours."
"No, I should be thanking you," she said with relief in her voice. "It's been nice to talk about it with people that don't run away screaming, once they realise what I am." She looked a little sad, then smiled at me before asking, "also could you, call me Deirdre?" She flushed with embarrassment and explained, "A while ago I'd be reading some stories about vampires and the fancy of a new enigmatic name took me as I settled with me being dead. But now hearing you calling me it regularly, I've realised just how stupid it sounds. So please, call me Deirdre."
Fyren and I laughed lightly, "I had wondered, when I heard the barman call you that," I said with a smile.
"Oh, you did hear," moaned D'drel... no Deirdre, as she buried her face in her hands.
As the laughter died my head started to feel heavy, with a yawn and a stretch I announced. "Right, I need to get some rest, would you ladies be okay on the bed whilst I doze here in the armchairs?"
Fyren and Deirdre glanced at each other doubtfully. "Actually Godric," said Deirdre awkwardly. "It would be better if you took the bed, I should take a proper look at that shoulder wound and it'll be easier if you're lying down."
"Yeah you're looking cold Godric," said Fyren quickly, "it'd be better if I was there to keep you warm."
"No, if anything he looks hot," said Deirdre with authority. "He'd be far better off with something cold, you'll be fine curled up in front of the fire."
Fyren's fur bristled, but before she could retort I stood, spreading my arms in a gesture of peace. This was a mistake as almost instantly my head violently swam and I staggered forward. "Godric!" They both cried and I blacked out, as the floor shot towards me.
Sometime later I awoke in a groggy state feeling strangely lopsided, one side was warm, whilst the other was cold. I looked down to see Fyren and Deirdre sleeping on each side of my chest. They looked so peaceful as I ran my fingers through their hair and stroked their cheeks. Deirdre seemed to have changed the dressings on my wound and the cool touch of her cheek against it felt lovely. I also became aware of the cool touch of her skin right the way down my body, as I realised she was naked, her hard nipples poking me.
Judging from the feel of her soft warm fur, Fyren was equally undressed. She snuggled in close, wrapping a leg around mine and pushing my arm between her tender breasts. I lay back and smiled, enjoying their company as I wondered why they had felt the need to remove my clothes. I just hoped I hadn't missed anything interesting, whilst I had been out for the count.
Looking back at their sleeping faces I thought about what to do next. We could head north, try and start a new life away from those that would do us harm. I had little money and resources now, but maybe my Scottish Uncle would welcome us?
Though I was also worried about my lodger Rosalind and the two strangers that had helped us escape. Our foes clearly had the money and power to do horrible things to them, if they weren't already. I felt it was wrong to just run away and leave them to their fates, but would it be too dangerous to attempt a rescue?
I would have to sleep on it and see what Fyren thought in the morning. I suspected she'd want to mount a rescue, but I wasn't sure how the two of us could take on our enemy, without being slaughtered. As for Deirdre, but her unique talents could prove useful, whatever we ended up doing, but I didn't know if I wanted to get her involved in something so dangerous.
Either way tomorrow would prove to be a turning point, in my increasing strange Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion.
[Author's Note: I hope people are still enjoying this tale, I haven't had as much time to work on this due to real life and SNAFU consuming most of my time. As I always I like to hear your thoughts, particularly about the direction this story could go in, though I worry that it is increasingly straying from being a Monster Musume fan fiction.]