Michael Collins and the Magic Coin

by Br44

Michael Collins is a lonely college student who was given a magic coin by a mysterious woman. Rubbing the head of the coin, it grants him the one wish in the deepest part of his heart. "I wish I had a girl just like out of Fallen Maidens. One who would love me and allow me to love her without any concern for appearance or money."

12. Chapter 10 Part 1

ATTENTION READER!

This is PART 1 of a TWO PART chapter. It has been broken up for your viewing pleasure. ENJOY! :D

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Oil for Tin Man

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..

...

Michael didn't know how long he had been walking in the blackness. Time seemed to move at strange irregular rates. There were long stretches where he didn't remember anything, and then even longer stretches of nothingness that seemed to last forever. But onwards he walked, because he knew that what he was experiencing was not normal. He believed the blackness was another form of attack.

"Sherry? Where are you? I need help! I've been walking for days, and I can't find my way out!" Michael called.

...

"Your wife cannot reach you here..." A powerful voice said.

*SKID

Michael's boots skidded to a halt.

"Who are you!?" Michael called.

His wide eyes peered into the blackness, looking for the source of the voice. It was feminine, whoever it was, and it had a booming and resonating quality to it.

*BWOOSH!

"GAH!" Michael cried.

He covered his eyes, protecting them from the burst of pink and gold light. Squinting through his fingers, he tried to identify his potential enemy.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" Michael demanded.

"I am your god." The powerful voice said.

"No you're not! My god would never speak to me in this way!" Michael retorted instantly.

"None the less, I am your god. You will come to me precious one. Very soon. I wish it." The powerful voice said.

Michael's eyes were beginning to adapt to the blinding light, and he was able to see the figure who was speaking to him. It was a stunningly beautiful blonde woman with chiseled features, and kind eyes. She smiled warmly, and slowly unfurled her arms towards him.

"Come to me precious one. Your time has come." The goddess said.

"No! I remember your voice now! You've come after me before!" Michael exclaimed.

"You needn't be afraid. I am not your enemy, I am..." The goddess said.

*SMACKSMACK

*SHAKESHAKE

"SWEETIE!" Sherry shouted.

*SMACK!

Michael's eyes flew open, just in time to experience Sherry slapping him across the face repeatedly.

"Enough Searraigh! He's coming out of it!" The witch exclaimed.

Sherry leaned forward, her face a mere fraction of an inch from his.

"What did she look like? TELL ME!" Sherry demanded.

"Ugh... I don't... wha?" Michael murmured, confused.

"That's it... it's gone. Whoever it was just left his body." The witch said.

...

Michael's eyes began to drift shut again.

"Oh no you don't! Stay awake! Don't go back to the dream realm! Not until we finish warding you against her!" Sherry exclaimed.

She shook him again, and his eyes shot open.

"Blonde... pretty... said she was my god..." Michael murmured.

"That sounds like the chief god to me!" The witch said.

"Agreed! This isn't good! Stay awake!" Sherry exclaimed.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael found himself sitting upright against the headboard of that lovely canopy bed in Sherry's room, with a hot cup of coffee in his hand and a certain succubus hanging off his other arm. The room was completely packed with mages, all of which were holding magical tablets, and scanning the magical flow of energy into and out of the room. Sherry and the witch were sitting on the bed, explaining what had just happened.

"Wait wait wait... run all that by me again. I was asleep for HOW LONG?" Michael asked.

"A full week. As soon as I brought you back here, you went into a deep slumber." Sherry explained.

"We believed the Order and the chief god were mounting another assault against you." The witch added.

"We sensed something was happening, and we used our power to snap you out of it." Sherry explained.

"Wow, that's freaky." Michael shuddered.

"You're safe now Lord Collins. We've placed enough wards on you to prevent anyone from invading you like that ever again." The witch said.

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Michael said graciously.

There was a pause as Michael took a sip of his coffee.

"She didn't seem evil, but I didn't get to talk to her much." Michael recounted.

"The chief god is an artist at manipulation. After all, she's turned the humans into a race of fanatics who are willing to die for her. So do not underestimate her power." The witch said.

Michael couldn't help but glance at Sherry briefly as the witch spoke.

...

"So I suppose my alter ego was also the chief god's doing?" Michael asked.

"Absolutely. We detected her holy power hidden inside you in just the right way to be invisible to Searraigh." The witch explained.

"Sherry... specifically..." Michael murmured.

"That's right. They had planned this attack very carefully so Searraigh couldn't see the traces they were leaving. Any inma worth her salt would carefully monitor her husband for strange magic traces. They wanted the freedom to take you over without detection." The witch explained.

"I would never have been able to help you sweetie. If you had not been in the vicinity of another mage, be it Mistress Druella or someone else, you would most certainly have died. Your wanderlust saved your life." Sherry explained.

Michael hugged Sherry, who pecked his cheek and hugged him back.

"That earlier... that was one last ditch effort to get at me..." Michael started.

"And it failed. She's gone." Sherry reassured.

"Well hold on, we're not sure that was the chief god!" The witch said.

"It must have been. Sweetie described her perfectly." Sherry insisted.

The witch placed her warm hand on Michael's forehead, and closed her eyes.

"Hmm... I still can't sense anything other than the chief god's magic. I guess... it must be true." The witch said, uncertain.

"That attack from those crazy cultists must have been a distraction. I know you Sherry. You must have been getting suspicious over the Order's inaction against us." Michael reasoned.

"I was. You are absolutely correct once again." Sherry said.

...

"But on the other hand..." Sherry hesitated.

...

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing a doppelganger?" Sherry asked, eyes narrowing.

"Oh well... my bad. I should have drawn on all the experience I had from the fifteen other times I got turned into an incubus." Michael said sarcastically.

Sherry frowned.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't do that when you went to so much trouble to look after me. I never said anything because I thought it was normal." Michael said.

"I suppose. But still, you should have told me anyways! We're married sweetie! We rely on each other!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I know. Again... I'm sorry." Michael said softly.

...

..

As Michael spent some time drinking coffee and waking up, the other mages all packed up their supplies and began to filter out of the room. Eventually it was just Michael himself, Sherry, and the witch.

"Thanks... uh... you never did tell me your name." Michael said.

"I know. You still haven't tried to guess it. As I said before, there's a real swell reward if you guess correctly." The witch said.

"I've guessed a dozen times sweetie, as has every other dark knight. Whatever her name is, it's obscure." Sherry said.

"Hmm... then it's unlikely I'll guess it then." Michael said.

The witch shrugged her shoulders, and turned for the door.

"Opal." Michael said.

"BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Opal?! Surely you jest! How could such a cute girl be named Opal!?" Sherry exclaimed.

"I don't know why I thought that one, but it's what popped into my head." Michael said, smiling sheepishly.

...

..

.

*THUD!

Sherry turned when she heard a heavy book hit the floor. The witch was in tears.

"Impossible! Did he..." Sherry started.

"He did!" Opal sniffled.

She rubbed her eyes.

"You laughed at my name..." Opal whimpered.

"Oh no! I'm sorry dear, I never thought..." Sherry tried to apologize.

"It's my name, okay! I didn't chose it! My mother did!" Opal exclaimed, sobbing.

"I think it's endearing. Like a little jewel. You shouldn't be ashamed of that. I mean... hell... I was named after the most forgotten astronaut on my entire planet. That's pretty lame!" Michael insisted.

Michael jacked his thumb towards Sherry.

"And her name is so messed up, I can't even pronounce it." Michael added.

"Hey!" Sherry pouted.

*Giggle

"I suppose... you're right." Opal said, half smiling.

And with that, Opal turned and walked out of the room. The mages on the other side of the door were already chatting amongst themselves about Opal's name. Mostly in a nice way.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

*CLANG!

*Crreeeeaaaaaak

Michael and Sherry walked into the throne room of Druella, deep inside the Lescatie family mansion. They crossed the length of the hall, and stood before Druella's throne. As usual, Sherry bowed while Michael did not. Druella was speaking with one of her dark knights, when she looked up and noticed them before her.

"LORD COLLINS! You're awake!" Druella exclaimed.

She practically hopped with excitement.

"Yep. I'm done with my siesta, and I'm ready to start stepping on your toes again cupcake." Michael quipped.

"I don't even care that you once again call me cupcake, I'm just happy you have returned! How do you feel?" Druella asked, smiling.

"I... I'm not quite right. I'm here, but I'm not all here if you get my meaning." Michael said reluctantly.

"Then perhaps it would be wise for you to go home and rest." Druella said.

"...but I just got here. I was told you wanted to talk to me!" Michael said, confused.

"It brings happiness to my heart to see you up and about again, so please do not misunderstand. There is much to do, and much to talk about, and you need to be at your best for the days to come. Searraigh?" Druella said.

"Yes mistress?" Sherry asked.

"Take your husband to your new home. Care for him, and nurse him back to health. Once he is whole again, bring him before me." Druella instructed.

"Thy will be done mistress." Sherry said.

...

~Moments Later~

...

*CLANG

Michael and Sherry found themselves outside the throne room, escorted there by the guards.

"I'm confused. Did I do something wrong? I mean... I called her cupcake, but she knows that's just a joke. Right?" Michael asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't worry about it sweetie. She really is concerned for you. If you had seen her this last week, you would understand. All those mages in our room earlier were not cheap." Sherry insisted.

So they walked together, arm in arm, through the mansion. They got to the usual hallway that lead back to Sherry's room in the mansion, but Sherry walked right past it.

"Wait, aren't we going back to our room?" Michael asked.

Sherry turned and placed her hand on his forehead.

"You're really out of it sweetie. Didn't you hear the mistress's instructions? We must go to our new house, not to our little room." Sherry said.

"Oh...okay." Michael said, uncertain.

A couple of minutes later, Michael and Sherry found themselves walking out the front doors to the Lescatie family mansion. As expected, the cursed swordswoman was still standing guard as if she never stopped. Michael paused as they walked by, and the cursed swordswoman eyed him up with those evil looking eyes of hers.

"Can I have a hug?" Michael asked.

*GRAB!

The cursed swordswoman didn't hesitate for even a second before wrapping her arms around Michael. Unlike the previous time she hugged him, Michael hugged her back.

...

As they walked away, Sherry smiled at Michael.

"That was kind of you sweetie. I'm proud of you." Sherry said.

"I didn't do it to be praised, I did it because I felt like it." Michael said.

"Of course sweetie, whatever you say." Sherry said, smiling.

...

..

.

It didn't take long before Michael started struggling as they walked through the cobblestone streets of Lescatie. A week in bed wasn't enough time to recover from the doppleganger's attack.

"I'm not doing good Sherry. How far do we need to go?" Michael asked, panting.

"It's not far sweetie. Please, hold on a little longer." Sherry urged.

...

Michael went a little further, and struggled even more. He had trouble keeping track what streets they were going down. The whole world was starting to spin, and he was panting.

"Sherry... " Michael murmured.

"Just a little more. You can do it sweetie!" Sherry encouraged.

...

By the time they got where they were going, Michael was in pretty bad shape. He was so far gone that he had no idea where he was, who's house he was standing in front of, or why he was there. All he knew was pain and fatigue. Sherry had to drag him across the threshold with his arm draped over her shoulder. Once they got inside, Michael collapsed into a conveniently placed chair.

"Sweetie!? Are you okay?" Sherry asked.

"Too much... so tired..." Michael murmured.

His eyes drifted shut. Sherry stood there, her ear pressed against his chest as she listened to his breathing.

"I'm sorry sweetie. I didn't mean to push you so far. I was just trying to obey mistress Druella's commands. I won't disturb you for a while. Just rest." Sherry said softly.

...

~Later ~

...

*Shakeshake

"Sweetie~ Wake up~ It's time for dinner~" Sherry sang.

"Ugh... but it's morning." Michael groaned.

"No it isn't sweetie. It's night time. You slept all day." Sherry said.

It wasn't super obvious, but Michael could detect a hint of worry in Sherry's voice. As he looked around with his crusty sleep-filled eyes, he couldn't see much of anything in the room. It was very dark, and barely illuminated by some moonlight streaming in through a window. He could see his hand in front of his face, a little bit of Sherry, and the arms of some intricate chair he was sitting in. Nothing else.

"I'm not hungry. Just let me sleep." Michael complained.

"I can't do that sweetie. All living things must eat. Think about your sugar!" Sherry insisted.

"Oh yeah. You're right. Okay... I'll try." Michael said tiredly.

So with Sherry's help, Michael was able to eat a little bit of dinner. He didn't really know what it was, it sort of scraped across his tongue without tasting like anything. Sherry obsessed over him like a mother hen, insisting on spoon feeding him while hugging him. At some point she lit a candle, putting Michael within a tiny pinpoint of light in a huge ocean of blackness. The light wasn't strong enough to reach the walls of the room, which made the walls seem much farther away that they actually were. Or perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. He couldn't even see the floor around his feet.

"Sherry... where the hell are we?" Michael asked, frightened.

"A safe place. Relax, and focus on your meal." Sherry said softly.

She answered by pressing a wine goblet against his lips, forcing him to drink down several large swallows. As soon as the drink hit his stomach, an intense warmth began spreading through his body. It was utterly deceiving how much alcohol was really in that wine, not to mention what other mysterious inma ingredients might be included.

"Good boy. That's it. Good boy." Sherry said, stroking his hair gently.

She pressed the goblet against his lips again, and he willingly drank it down.

"Hah...hah... Sherry..." Michael panted, confused.

Sherry stroked his cheek with her slender fingers, letting the nails gently brush against his lips. He heard the sound of a cork popping, and the sound of fluid being poured.

"Drink more of this. It will make you feel much better." Sherry whispered softly.

*Glug

*Glug

*Glug

...

..

Michael eventually wound up laying on a bed, but he didn't remember how he got there. Presumably Sherry took him there, but he didn't know when or how. His head was buzzing and his whole body felt strange. He knew he had been drinking, but the sensation of drunkenness was different than previous times he had gotten drunk. Something about that inma wine was particularly intoxicating. It was still just as dark as it had been before. Neither the walls, ceiling, or even the bed he was on could be easily seen.

"Alright, now it's time for me to take care of your body." Sherry said softly.

He felt something warm and wet touch his arm, and slowly move towards his shoulder. It felt an awful lot like a wet rag of some kind. Once it reached his shoulder, it pulled away and reappeared back down near his wrist. Then it slid slowly back up to his shoulder.

*Splish

More hot liquid dripped onto his body. The rag appeared near his belly, and slowly slid down his leg.

"I did this the whole time you were asleep. Does it feel good? I love doing this for you." Sherry purred.

She dutifully washed his whole body, little by little, until he was squeaky clean from head to toe. Then she abandoned the warm rag and water, and switched to her bare hands.

"I'll... try..." Michael murmured.

"Try what?" Sherry asked softly.

"Try to... last... tonight..." Michael murmured.

"No, I can't take your spirit energy while your spirit is injured. It's wrong!" Sherry said.

Even as she said the words, she never stopped fondling and groping his body. Her hands were all over him, touching, caressing, massaging, and absolutely driving him wild.

"I'm trying a technique the mistress taught me. It's intended to make you feel wonderful, but you won't cum. I know it sounds strange, but it is possible to feel amazing without squirting all over the place." Sherry explained.

"GAH!" Michael cried pleasurably.

"See? Of course it helps that you're silly drunk, just in case you had reservations about such an unusual technique. But if this works, you'll get to experience kind of pleasure totally unknown before now~" Sherry explained cheerfully.

...

"I like how sensitive you are to my touch. Why don't you be a good boy and scream for me~" Sherry said seductively.

*Smooch

"MMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Michael screamed, muffled.

...

..

.

"Hah...hah...hah... hah...hah..." Michael panted.

"Excellent! Not a single misplaced drop of spirit energy! If we keep this up, your spirit will be healed in no time!

"Wha?" Michael murmured.

"Each time you climax like that, your spirit opens up and becomes super receptive of my mana. I can pour a piece of myself into the spirit wound, and patch it up as good as new! Think of it as a sort of magical bandage." Sherry explained.

Michael remained silent.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about. That's fine, you don't need to understand. All you have to do is... well... let me take care of you for a while. I'll explain it again in the morning." Sherry said.

*Smooch

*Smoooooch

*Smoooooooooch

*Suuuck

" Meanwhile... I must satiate myself... with nothing but kissing..." Sherry breathed hotly.

She slid her hands behind his back and pulled their bodies together, and continued kissing him.

"Your lips have hardly been undisturbed this entire time. I'm surprised they haven't gotten bruised yet. Oh who am I kidding, I could never do that to you even if I wanted~" Sherry breathed hotly.

*Smoooch

*Lick

*Pwah

"Now sleep sweetie. Sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeep..." Sherry cooed.

...

..

.

The Next Morning

.

..

...

*Drip

...

*Drip

Michael's face twitched as a lukewarm fluid dripped onto his cheek. His eyes cracked open slowly, and found a wet pair of coffee flavored fingers on his lips.

"Shhhh... you wouldn't want to wake up the neighbors." Sherry whispered.

"Are you psychotic or something?" Michael whispered.

"I know not what that means, but it's time to wake up." Sherry said cheerfully.

Groaning, Michael managed to sit up. It might have been a little easier to sit up if he didn't have a thicc succubus on his lap.

"Are you feeling any better?" Sherry asked.

Michael nodded.

"Do I have your permission to cast a detect-magic spell? I would like to see... inside you." Sherry asked.

"Go ahead." Michael said.

So Sherry placed her hand against his chest, and cast the detect-magic spell. The room began to glow.

"You're still injured, but it's much brighter now than it was. What a relief!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I guess I just need some time, and I'll be as good as new." Michael said.

"Time... or plenty of demonic energy." Sherry added.

...

"What's it like? What does it feel like?" Sherry asked.

"What does what feel like?" Michael asked.

"I've never had a spirit injury before. I just want to know how to better help you." Sherry explained.

"Well... it's... it's sort of like that dizzy nauseated feeling you get when you have really bad food poisoning. That's the closest analogy I can think up." Michael explained hesitantly.

...

Michael tried getting out of bed, but Sherry's arms held him down.

"So uh... can I get up?" Michael asked.

"I don't want to let you go." Sherry said softly.

"But I haven't even seen the new house yet." Michael said.

"Who cares? Doesn't this feel good? It feels good for me. I love hugging you." Sherry countered.

She began to chuckle.

"I wonder... if I squeezed you hard enough, would you merge with my body and become one with me?" Sherry giggled.

"OKAY! I'm getting up now. Weirdo." Michael exclaimed.

And with that, he managed to just barely pry her off and slip out of bed.

...

..

Michael groggily followed Sherry as she lead him through their new house and into a dining room. She sat him down at a chair, and proceeded to use magic to summon in a breakfast she had pre-prepared. Michael ignored it all, going straight for the coffee.

"Ugh... my head is fluffy." Michael grumbled.

"A side effect of demonic energy exposure, or maybe it's a symptom of the trauma you went through." Sherry reasoned.

"Yeah sure... that's probably it. Or the fact you got me drunk last night." Michael murmured.

*Siiiiiiiip

"Holy shit the coffee is good today!" Michael noted, pleasantly surprised.

Sherry pulled another chair up next to his and sat down.

"Is it? That's good to hear." Sherry said, grinning mischievously.

...

Typically when Michael ate a meal, Sherry would sit across from him and watch him eat. It was creepy at first, with her constant staring and all, but Michael was used to it. What he couldn't get used to however... was the touching. And that morning, Sherry was all hands.

"What's going on? She's all over me like someone getting trampled during a Black Friday sale." Michael thought.

Michael smiled and tried to ignore her pestering, not that it helped. Sherry was purposely looking for a reaction.

*Gasp~

"There we go~ That's the look I wanted to see on your face~" Sherry cooed.

"Can't I eat breakfast in peace?" Michael asked.

"Nope~ Not if you're going to just fall asleep again~" Sherry sang.

...

"Fine. This food is too good tasting for me to care." Michael said defiantly.

He took a few more bites of an omelet, which was possibly the best tasting omelet he had ever eaten. It had some sort of turnover as a side, pancakes with fruit toppings and syrup, flavored coffee, and yogurt.

"Why does this taste so damn good? What did you do?" Michael asked.

"Well... it helps when I have access to quality ingredients. While your supermarkets are fascinating places, the quality of the goods are subpar at best. Even the nicer supermarkets were a letdown." Sherry explained.

"Yeah but... fresh ingredients can't explain how you made this so good! And besides, where'd you get the coffee?" Michael asked.

"Oh the coffee came from your world, but I spruced it up a bit with local ingredients. As for everything else, well now..." Sherry said, grinning.

She pointed at each item in turn.

"Prisoner fruit omelette, prisoner fruit turnover, prisoner fruit pancakes with prisoner fruit syrup, prisoner fruit flavored sweetener for the coffee, and prisoner fruit yogurt." Sherry said.

...

"What's that expression? Don't you like it anymore?" Sherry asked.

...

"Are you... trying to tell me something?" Michael asked.

"Tell you something?" Sherry questioned, confused.

"Yeah like... am I ugly or something?" Michael asked.

"Oh no silly, not at all. I just put the prisoner fruit in there because I know you like it. And it's healthy, so it will help you recover." Sherry said.

"Right, I remember that from the MGE. Fair enough." Michael said, nodding.

He went back to eating his food as if nothing was wrong. It did taste good after all, and he had a serious problem with wasting food.

.

..

...

"Of course... you are also correct. Prisoner fruits will have a beautifying effect. If you keep this up, you'll have the whole city lusting after you. You'll be the most handsome man to walk these streets." Sherry said seductively.

"Heh, that'd be nice. I think I would feel good if someone said I looked good. Maybe I should do something with my hair." Michael said, smiling.

After the food Sherry had prepared was gone, Michael found himself reaching for a fruit basket that was conveniently placed within easy reach. As one might guess, it was full of prisoner fruits. There was no conscious thought that went into it, Michael's body just naturally reached out for them all on its own. He munched mindlessly through the fruits, one after another, by the dozens. And Sherry was in the background, quietly teleporting in more fruit baskets when Michael emptied them. This might have gone on forever if Sherry hadn't have spoken up.

"What a glutton~" Sherry giggled.

...

He came to his senses as abruptly as crashing a car into a wall.

"Oh shit... how many of these did I eat?!" Michael exclaimed.

"A lot." Sherry said, giggling.

...

"You're still eating." Sherry noted.

Michael ripped his hand away from the basket, and forced his eyes to look away.

"Holy crap those things are like crack!" Michael exclaimed.

"Hehehehehe..." Sherry chuckled.

...

..

Later, with a coffee cup in hand, Michael began slowly scanning the room he found himself eating breakfast in. He was sitting at the head of a dining table inside a dining room. The walls were plaster of Paris, with decorative raised trim and crown molding around the windows and door. There was a magical lantern chandelier hanging over a beautiful dark-stained dining table. Intricate padded chairs surrounded the table, with an extra fancy one sitting at the head.

"What the hell kind of pad have I found myself in?" Michael asked aloud.

"Hmm? Do you not like it?" Sherry asked.

"Oh I like it! I just... I haven't had a chance to really settle down and comprehend where I am. Not here, nor at the mansion." Michael noted.

He took a sip of his coffee.

"I've been going on auto pilot this whole time." Michael added.

...

"For that matter... I'm not entirely sure how you brewed this coffee or cooked the food." Michael said.

"Do you think we people of Lescatie are barbarians? We know how to craft simple things like stoves. And a fire spell is easy for a destruction mage such as myself." Sherry said, frowning.

"Oh...okay. Sorry." Michael said, nodding.

*Clink

He put down his empty cup, and stretched.

"Alright. Let's actually go do stuff." Michael said.

"What would you like to do first?" Sherry asked.

"Hmm... how about a tour of the house first, and then we'll go get the Duster." Michael suggested.

"I think that's a good idea. Let's go!" Sherry said enthusiastically.

...

So they exited the door to the dining room, and found themselves in the entrance hallway. Sherry pointed to the left.

"That's the front door sweetie." Sherry explained.

To the right was a progressively narrowing hallway with two doors on the right, three on the left, and a stairwell. Michael went towards the two doors on the right.

"This is the ante room and the drawing room." Sherry explained.

"AKA... the waiting room and living room. Okay." Michael nodded.

He turned around, and looked towards the stairs. Under the stairs was a fourth hidden door.

"Oh! Hello! What do we have here?" Michael exclaimed.

He grabbed the knob and opened it, and the duo peered inside...

*Schlik

*Squish

*Schloop

*Giggle

*Moan

Michael slammed the door and pressed his back against it.

"Someone call Johnny Rico! We've got bugs!" Michael exclaimed, wide eyed.

A ball of self pleasuring devil bugs continued their girl on girl orgy under the stairs, unaware that Michael or Sherry had ever seen them.

"You don't like devil bugs?" Sherry asked.

"Hell no!" Michael exclaimed.

"Very well, I shall ask them to move somewhere else. In the meantime, would you like to continue the tour?" Sherry asked.

"With that going on?!" Michael exclaimed.

"To be completely fair, I knew they were there. I wasn't going to let them bother you." Sherry reassured.

"You... promise?" Michael asked.

"Most certainly!" Sherry said cheerfully.

"...after all, devil bugs weren't on sweetie's list of favorite inma. So they must wait at the back of the line." Sherry thought.

"Anyways, so off in this direction is the kitchen..." Sherry said.

...

Sherry showed him around the house, touring through every room. She showed him the kitchen, which had a great big fireplace and wood stove for cooking. There was also a nice breakfast room next to the entrance hall. Going down a side hallway from the entrance hall lead to an office room, another private living room, and a small bedroom. Heading up the stairs revealed nothing but bedrooms. The majority of the bedrooms either had their own bathroom, or they had one right next to it. Michael walked inside one of them, and saw a beautiful standing bathtub with intricately shaped legs on all four corners. There was even a wash basin, and shelves to hold towels and other things expected of a bathroom.

"I have to say, I didn't expect running water and plumbing in a medieval world. I wonder where the water comes from, and how they get it up to pressure." Michael thought.

He turned to walk out, but caught sight of a mirror. It was made of polished metal, and it was around a foot wide and two feet tall. He leaned closer to it, looking at his own reflection.

"What the hell did I do to myself with eating all those prisoner fruits?" Michael murmured, shocked.

Sherry came up from behind and looked at his reflection in the polished metal.

"I think you look wonderful. Especially your eyes." Sherry complimented.

"My eyes?" Michael questioned.

"Yes indeed. They're so dark and dreamy. I love them so much~" Sherry complimented.

She raked her fingers gently across his sharp jaw.

"Those prisoner fruits have turned you into quite the handsome man. You should definitely keep eating them, every chance you get. I wonder what a hundred years of consumption will do to you?" Sherry said, grinning devilishly.

"I don't know. What WOULD it do to me?" Michael asked.

"You'll look like a woman's wet dream, that's what will happen. Much like those men modeling for under garments in advertisements back on Earth." Sherry said, grinning.

...

..

.

They exited the bathroom and entered one of the bedrooms. It was styled in a similar fashion to the one they had used in the Lescatie family mansion, just less personalized. There was a lovely canopy bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, and a single person sofa next to the window.

"Just think sweetie, we could fuck in every room in this house! It'll be wondrous!" Sherry exclaimed.

*Sigh

"I was thinking about having guests." Michael said.

"They can fuck in every room too. Or maybe we can all fuck in the same room." Sherry said cheerfully.

"Uh huh." Michael said dryly.

He went over and pushed his hand against the bed's mattress. It felt soft and fluffy.

"Alright, well... alley OOP!" Michael said.

*CRASH

*CRUNCH

*SHATTER!

Michael flopped onto the bed, and it immediately shattered under his weight. The frame and the four post all came crashing down, with the canopy coming down on top of him. As the dust settled, one might almost hear the termites snickering.

"Oh my goodness! Are you alright?!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael laughed, and took a pose.

"Paint me like one of your Lescatie girls~" Michael said in a fake accent.

Sherry giggled.

"I have no idea what the joke means, but it's still funny the way you say it." Sherry said, smiling.

"Mission accomplished." Michael said.

*Crunch

*Shuffle

*THUD!

Michael rolled out of the mess, and staggered to his feet, dusting himself off.

"I guess it's time for me to build another bed frame. Bust out the wood planer!" Michael said cheerfully.

Sherry fussed over Michael, and checked him for scratches or bruises.

"I guess these beds are meant for your little twiggy Lescatie boys, not for big corn fed Americans." Michael said.

"You're not that much bigger than everyone else, and it's meant to hold two! That bed crumbled as if it were a hundred years old!" Sherry said.

"Who knows... maybe it was. That's okay though, I'll fix it later. Just add it to the list of things we need to do to fix this place up." Michael said.

"Yeah but... we can't fuck on it until then." Sherry pouted.

"Well... uh... I guess that will keep the anticipation up?" Michael said, uncertain.

Sherry immediately lit up.

"Okay sweetie!" Sherry cheered.

...

..

.

They continued upwards in their house. It was a two story house with a full attic, and the next stop was the attic. They climbed up into it, and Michael pulled out his LED flashlight.

"Oof, so dusty!" Sherry remarked.

"Nothing like dust in Arizona though." Michael quipped.

"This is true." Sherry said, nodding

"I wonder if we should be up here. Does Lescatie have a Radon problem?" Michael wondered aloud.

"What's Radon?" Sherry asked, confused.

"Nevermind. I'll bring a geiger counter up here another time. I've got a real sensitive one with an alpha detector." Michael said.

...

There were countless pieces of furniture, wooden chests, and some paintings strewn around the attic. Most of it was covered in cloth sheets to protect it, but the sheets clearly showed signs of having been there for a very long time. His flashlight settled on a massive oak wardrobe.

"How the hell did someone carry that big ass thing up those narrow steps?" Michael wondered aloud.

"Maybe they used magic?" Sherry suggested.

"Maybe." Michael said, nodding.

...

"Well sweetie? What do you think of the house?" Sherry asked.

"No." Michael said.

"No?" Sherry questioned.

"It's too nice. I don't like it. I don't know what to do with myself." Michael said.

Sherry giggled.

"What's wrong with having nice things?" Sherry asked.

"It makes me want to not use them, so they stay nice." Michael said.

"Well that's just silly." Sherry said.

"Tell that to the bed frame I already broke." Michael said.

...

"That wasn't your fault sweetie. And besides, I think there's another bed frame right over there under those sheets! Let's take a look!" Sherry said cheerfully.

"Alright. I'm still going to fix that old one though, no matter what." Michael said.

Sherry sashayed over and started pulling sheets off the pile of furniture. Michael coughed and stepped back to get out of the dust.

*coughcoughSNEEZE

"Ugh, damn allergies." Michael grumbled.

He leaned against the wardrobe as Sherry excitedly unwrapped all the furniture like a kid during Christmas. After a few moments, he started eyeing that wardrobe with a mixture of curiosity and boredom. It felt extra heavy, as if there were things inside of it. So he hooked his finger in the handle and peeked inside.

...

"Sweetie, this bed frame seems to be in poor condition as well. We'll have to fix it." Sherry said, dejected.

Sherry turned when Michael didn't answer. He was looking inside an empty wardrobe.

"Sweetie?" Sherry questioned.

"That's fine..." Michael said distantly.

He closed the wardrobe with a click, and remained staring at the door. Sherry came closer.

"What's the matter sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Nothing." Michael said distantly.

"Sweetie... look at me." Sherry said.

Michael turned and looked at her with a pair of vacant eyes.

"Shit." Sherry spat.

Sherry raised her hands up, and magic curled around her fingers.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" Sherry demanded.

"I mean you no harm. I control his body." Michael said distantly.

"Leave him at once, or I shall destroy you!" Sherry boomed.

...

*WHOOSH!

A blue light popped out of Michael's chest, and a humanoid figure flew out. Michael crumpled to the ground in a heap, panting. A ghost hovered just above him.

"I'm sorry! It was an accident! He looked inside my wardrobe... and I got scared! Please don't kill me!" The ghost wailed.

"Just because you're scared doesn't mean you go around possessing people. Shame on you!" Sherry chastised.

Sherry took a step closer to the quivering ghost.

"I should punish you!" Sherry exclaimed angrily.

"EEP!" The ghost squeaked.

She flew back into the wardrobe, which began shaking and rattling violently.

"Wait! She didn't mean any harm! She was here before us, we're in HER home!" Michael exclaimed, panting.

...

Sherry lowered her magic covered hands. Nodding, Michael staggered to his feet and approached the shaking wardrobe.

"It's okay. She's not going to hurt you. She's my wife, and she's very protective. I promise everything's going to be fine." Michael reassured softly.

The wardrobe stopped shaking, and Michael reached for the door handle. He opened it, and the ghost peeked out.

"Are you sure?" The ghost asked meekly.

The ghost girl had a lovely French accent, which played on Michael's ears with a sing song quality. It was quite pleasant to hear.

"I'm sure. Come on out, let's talk." Michael said gently.

...

..

.

Later, the trio found themselves standing in the hallway of the house.

"So you were a maid here in this house before the battle of Lescatie?" Michael asked.

The ghost maid nodded, her non corporeal hairbun bobbing.

"I guessed as much from the maid outfit." Michael thought.

The girl was wearing a simple dress with apron and hair piece, which was clearly the clothes of a working girl. The stereotypical white and black maid outfit that was so often seen on TV back on earth was nowhere to be found.

"They executed me because I ate the forbidden fruit. The master of the house... he... he..." The ghost maid trailed off.

"It's alright dear, you don't have to say it." Sherry said.

"He didn't want the church to find out. His son was trying to be a priest, and if word of a heretic in the house had spread..." The ghost maid trailed off.

...

"It was the same fruits you were eating earlier." The ghost maid added.

"You were watching us?!" Michael exclaimed.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were here! I walked through a wall and saw you, and well... I was frightened! I didn't know who you were, so I watched." The ghost maid said.

She dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together, and held them up towards Michael.

"I beg of you monsieur, please let me stay! I'll do anything you ask, and I'll stay in the attic where I'll bother no one!" The ghost maid pleaded.

"Well... I don't know..." Michael murmured.

"We could use a maid. You know... to keep things clean while we're out a-questing." Sherry said.

"I suppose so. That's a fair exchange, right? I've done the whole 'Hired hand for room and board' gig in the past. Why can't you?" Michael said.

The ghost's eyes lit up, and she smiled warmly.

"Thank you!~ I'm forever in your debt!" The ghost maid said softly.

She reached out and gently wrapped her arms around Michael. He flinched at first, thinking she was about to possess him again. But all that happened was the sensation of two slender arms gently wrapping around him.

"Wow, you're a ghost but I can feel you!" Michael remarked.

...

*Knockknockknock!

"EEP!" The ghost maid squeaked.

*WHOOSH!

Michael doubled over as the ghost jumped into his body.

*KnockknoCLICK

The front door popped open on its own, and a dark knight made her way inside.

"Yes? What do you want?" Sherry snapped sharply.

The dark knight hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Sherry's sharp tone.

"Mistress Druella summons you, knight Searraigh. She said for you to come alone." The dark knight said.

"I guess she doesn't like monsieur Collins anymore. Maybe he shouldn't have called her cupcake." Michael said.

The dark knight looked down at Michael's prostrate form in confusion. He had been speaking in a very light, very feminine, very French accent. Not to mention the fact it seemed like he was speaking about himself in the third person.

...

"Mistress Druella had a message for you as well Lord Collins. She said... get well soon, cupcake." The dark knight said.

Michael made several strange hiccupping sounds, and his body twitched.

"Lord Collins is amused madam." Michael said.

...

..

"You may go." Sherry said.

"I think I had better." The dark knight said, confused.

She turned and hurried away. The door shut behind her.

..

...

"Get out of my husband this instant!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I'm trying! I'm honestly trying madam!" Michael exclaimed.

*HUUUUUUURRRRRGGGGGG!

*NYYYYYYRRRRRG!

*POP!

The ghost maid appeared next to Michael, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry about that madam, I won't do it again." The ghost maid said.

She tried to move away from Michael, but realized her arm was still lodged in his body. So she pulled and pulled, trying to free herself from Michael until...

*POP!

Michael's ghost popped out alongside her. His body sank to the floor, lifeless. His spirit body swayed, and he rubbed his non corporeal forehead in confusion.

"What just happened? I was having a dream about Crepe Suzette, and then I ended up here." Michael's ghost murmured.

Sherry stared at him silently, her eyes as wide as hubcaps.

"Monsieur? What... happened to you?" The ghost maid asked, shocked.

Michael looked down at himself, and his body... and let out a yelp.

"Shit oh shit oh shit! Oh frack I'm DEAD!" Michael exclaimed.

Sherry knelt down and placed a hand against Michael's physical body.

"No. You're not. Your heart beats still. This... nincompoop... pulled your spirit form from your body." Sherry explained.

"But why do I look like I was hit by a damn Mack truck?! Or better yet... a Caddy?" Michael asked, looking at his arms.

"You have a spirit injury, remember? Incubus Michael? The chief god?" Sherry said dryly.

"I get the point. So when you guys say spirit injury, you mean a literal spirit injury. A'iiite, I'm slowly getting it." Michael drawled.

"You need to get back in your body monsieur! It might end up disappearing, and you'll get stuck like me!" The ghost maid fretted.

She pushed on his non corporeal form with her petite non corporeal hands.

"Come now sweetie, now's not the time to be playing ghost." Sherry chastised.

"But I wasn't pla...

*GLORP

...ing! *GAAAAAAASP!" Michael wheezed.

He was back in his body, safe and sound.

"Oww..." Michael growled.

"Oh don't complain. You'll be fine. Now... you said something about Crepe Suzette?" Sherry asked.

"Really? That's your segue?" Michael shot.

"I'll make it for you monsieur! As many as you like!" The ghost maid exclaimed excitedly.

"Make it with prisoner fruits. He loves prisoner fruits." Sherry instructed.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Sherry found her way into the Lescatie family mansion, into the throne room. She dropped to a knee before Druella.

"By your command." Sherry said.

"Rise." Druella commanded.

Sherry obediently rose to her feet.

"Come forward Searraigh. I have a gift for you." Druella instructed.

Sherry walked up the steps, her interest perked. Druella had a small jewelry box in the palm of her hand.

"I have received word from my mother. She says that the demonic energy from the new world was able to help her land a victory against the chief god and the Order." Druella explained.

"That's wonderful news! Perhaps this war will end soon! Did she say what kind of victory?" Sherry asked.

"She did not. I'm sure she's waiting for you to visit her in person, before she will convey such details. In the meantime, she has instructed me to reward you. So... this is what I have decided." Druella explained.

She opened the jewelry box, and produced an intricate jeweled ring.

"Mistress... is that..." Sherry asked, eyes wide in awe.

"It is. A magic gateway ring." Druella said.

Sherry gaped at it in wonder.

"I was told that the primary reason why Michael came to this world was to explore it. And by doing so, it saved his life. Consider this a gift to encourage his wanderlust." Druella explained.

"This is incredible! Thank you! Thank you a thousand times, thank you! He'll be so surprised!" Sherry cheered.

"Now you don't go showing that ring to him right away. Wait a while, keep it a secret. Let him heal first, and then show him. We wouldn't want him to get excited and try running off before he's ready~." Druella explained.

Sherry gently pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. The jewel glinted at her in the soft light of the throne room. With that ring, Sherry could place down a miniature version of the portal between their worlds, and use it to travel between anywhere out in the world and a fixed point back home. It was a very expensive but very useful tool that adventurers would use to transport back home for more supplies, or to sell loot they gathered. Or in Michael's and Sherry's case... quickly jumping back home to spend a little kissy kissy time in one of their homes of choice.

...

~Meanwhile, Elsewhere~

...

"Hello sir, it's good to see you on your feet again." Stavish said.

Michael straightened from peering in the driver door of the Duster, and greeted the familiar dullahan soldier who was approaching.

"Thanks. I'm feeling a lot better now. How's things going out here?" Michael asked.

"We've had a few issues with the locals, but that's not why I came over here. I would like to make a report." Stavish said.

"Okay. Go ahead." Michael said.

"One of my men spotted a suspicious person tampering with your vehicle sir. It was a local." Stavish said.

She stuck her hand in her pocket, and produced a note.

"The suspicious person gave my trooper this, and then hauled ass out of the area. We have no idea where she went." Stavish explained.

Michael took the note, and unfolded it. Stavish looked past him towards the driver door. The glass was no longer broken, which was what Michael had been inspecting just as she walked up.

...

Michael's eyebrows furrowed.

"Trouble sir?" Stavish asked.

"I don't know." Michael said distantly.

He lowered the note and quickly walked around the car, to the passenger side rear tire. Stavish followed.

*THUD

*THUD THUD

Michael kicked the fully inflated tire.

"That's freaky. So this suspicious person... whoever it was... fixed my car. The flat tire, the broken glass, hell... even the dents in the fender and the broken grille!" Michael exclaimed.

Michael brought the note up again and read it aloud.

"Dear sir, I'm leaving this note to let you know that I fixed your wonderful mekanism to the best of my abilities. I did this as an act of good faith, in the hopes that we could be friends and you would teach me more about the horseless carriage. Signed... Z." Michael read aloud.

*Crumple

He wadded the note up and shoved it into his pocket.

"What do you suppose it means?" Stavish asked.

"I have no idea, but I imagine I'll be running into this... Z... character pretty soon. And when I do, I'm sure he or she'll explain. Until then, I'm just going to be happy that I'm mobile again." Michael said.

"Yes sir." Stavish said, smiling.

"So who was the one keeping an eye on my car?" Michael asked.

"McDickwiggle." Stavish said.

Michael chuckled.

"I'm never going to get over that name. What's her actual name?" Michael asked.

"Mackenzie, my radio operator." Stavish said.

Michael clicked the ptt on his radio twice.

"McDickwiggle, this is White Rook. Report to the Duster asap." Michael said into the radio.

"On my way." The radio hissed.

It wasn't more than fifteen seconds later when an ACU clothed blur came jogging up.

"Mackenzie, reporting as ordered sir." Mackenzie said.

"You ran?" Michael asked.

"I need the exercise sir." Mackenzie said.

"No shit." Stavish shot.

Michael quickly sized her up. She was a stocky girl with a cute round face, regulation haircut, and two floppy ears on her head. Michael quickly deduced she was an orc. But despite that, she immediately looked reliable and trustworthy... as expected of anyone serving in Stavish's outfit. She sized him up just as he was sizing her up.

"So you caught someone messing with my car." Michael said.

"Yes sir." Mackenzie said.

"What did she look like?" Michael asked.

"Well sir... she was a cute little squirt. Didn't come up much more than to your rib cage. But she sounded like an adult. It was the creepiest thing I've ever heard." Mackenzie started.

"I see." Michael said, nodding.

"She had a big mop of messy brown hair that looked like it'd been used to mop the floor in the motor pool. She had two big fluffy animal ears that matched her hair. She was wearing a long trench coat that nearly touched the ground, and she had a ball peen hammer sticking out the right pocket." Mackenzie recounted.

...

"Oh... and she looked at your car like a starving dog looks at a t-bone steak." Mackenzie added.

"Sounds like a Gremlin to me." Michael said.

"You mean like that movie? She didn't look anything like that." Mackenzie said.

"I know, but that's what they're called. Good work, and thank you. I owe you one." Michael said, smiling.

"Maybe you can get me a big mac next time you hit town." Mackenzie said casually.

"Good god girl! Quit that shit!" Stavish exclaimed.

"I can't! It tastes SOOOOO good!" Mackenzie exclaimed.

"Yeah... I'm more of an In N Out fan myself." Michael said.

"I'm more of a Whataburger fan myself." Stavish interjected.

"You mean Whataripoff?" Michael asked.

"Oh! Shots fired!" Mackenzie quipped.

Just then, the radio crackled.

"You're all crazy. Five Guys is better." The radio hissed.

"Whoops. I think I left Vox on." Mackenzie said, grinning sheepishly.

Stavish grabbed her radio and clicked the ptt.

"You mean five fingers of death." Stavish said into the radio.

Another voice chimed in over the radio.

"How about Jack-in-the-Box?" The radio said.

"Crack-in-the-Back." Mackenzie said into the radio.

"Culvers beats all you guys, hands down." The radio said, with a new voice.

"Can we all agree that the very first thing we're going to do once we return from an alien planet... is go straight to the burgers, fries, and coke?" Michael said into the radio.

...

..

.

"Hooah!" The radio exclaimed.

...

"Anyways, now that we got that out of the way, thanks for keeping an eye on the Duster for me." Michael said.

"No problem sir." Mackenzie said.

And with that, she jogged off.

...

"Dang it... now I'm hungry again. I wonder if they have hamburgers in the fantasy version of medieval France." Michael muttered.

"Maybe they'll have French fries?" Stavish quipped.

"Harty har har har." Michael said dryly.

Michael slid into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

*THUD

"Maybe I'll open my own burger joint. I'll literally corner the market on the entire planet." Michael said.

"Maybe sir. Maybe." Stavish said, chuckling.

"Catch you on the flip side Stavish." Michael said.

Stavish straightened and snapped off a smart looking salute.

...

~Later~

...

*Grrrrrrr grrrrr grr...

*Sputter

*POW!

"Backfiring now? I think it's time to check the timing." Michael muttered.

The Duster sputtered silent in front of their new home, and Michael got out. It wasn't long before people began appearing out of the woodwork to see the new horseless carriage from another world. Since it made so much noise, everyone knew it was there.

"The Duster sure draws a lot of attention, doesn't it?" Michael thought.

Several of the inma made a beeline straight to Michael, completely bypassing the car. It seemed that Michael himself was what drew their attention, not the Duster.

"Bon matin! Are you our new neighbor monsieur?"

"Yeah, I am." Michael said nicely.

"Oooohhhh~ So handsome~"

One of them gave his bicep a squeeze. Another one kissed him on both cheeks, French style. Before long, he found himself pressed against the Duster's quarter panel, with a lovely French succubus draping her arms around his neck.

"You simply must visit us, very soon. We'll have le banquet, oui?"

"Yeah... uh... oui!" Michael stammered.

The ladies all giggled at his nervousness, and decided to not pester him any further. Michael was left alone to lean against the Duster, leaving a few new hickies on his cheeks. They sashayed away, shooting him flirty glances over their shoulders before disappearing back into their homes.

"Holy shit wow..." Michael murmured.

"...Quite the handful, aren't they?"

Michael turned, and found a figure laying stretched out on the roof line of the Duster. A little brown haired squirt, who matched the description of the one Mackenzie described.

"Are you Z?" Michael asked.

"Z? OH! I get it! HAHAHAHAHA!"

She giggled, her furry ears twitching wildly.

"I never got to finish writing my name! That funny looking dark knight interrupted me! My name... is Griselda, but most people call me Zellie." Zellie said.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is..." Michael started.

"Michael Collins. I heard. People have been talking about you for weeks now." Zellie said.

They shook hands.

"So uh... mind getting off the roof of my car? I don't want you to dent it." Michael asked nicely.

*THUD

Zellie hopped down off the car, and landed on a pair of oversized leather boots. Unlike those women from before, that little gremlin walked right past Michael and went straight to the car. Michael smiled internally.

"So you want to know more about my Duster?" Michael asked.

"No, I want to know more about your horseless carriage." Zellie said.

"That's what it's called. It's a Plymouth Duster. I was going to do a quick tuneup, so why don't you watch?" Michael suggested.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

As Sherry came back home, her sensitive succubus ears could pick up the sound of the Duster long before she actually got anywhere near the front door. She decided to drop in quietly, so she could peek and see how the neighbors would react when an interesting new male walked around alone on the streets of Lescatie.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

She appeared inside the house on the second floor, and she peeked out one of the windows to the street below. Michael was bent over the engine compartment with a timing light, vacuum gauge, and electronic tachometer. Right next to him was the gremlin, who watched everything he did as he explained what each thing was and how it worked.

"Well... that's a sudden development! It makes sense though. It would only be a matter of time before his Duster caught the attention of the gremlins. But the curious thing is... sweetie never had a gremlin in his harem list. That's more of Alistair's particular kink. How unfortunate. She seems cute." Sherry thought.

...

Sherry's fingers filled with swirling crimson magic, and she cast a special listening spell on her right ear.

*POP!

"...and that's it. That's how you set your timing. Now all you have to do is tighten that bolt down, and you're down the road." Michael said.

Sherry smirked. Her spell was letting her listen in on Michael's discussion. With the repair job done, Michael went to the cab and turned the key to the off position. The Duster sputtered silent.

"Have you ever considered writing a book, and sharing all your knowledge?" Zellie asked.

Michael scoffed.

"What'd be the point in that? There's already thousands of books about this stuff. Where do you suppose I learned?" Michael chuckled.

"Thousands?!" Zellie exclaimed, eyes wide.

...

"Is that unusual?" Michael asked.

"Yes! I was just thinking..." Zellie said.

...

"See that big building over there?" Zellie asked.

Michael followed the direction she was pointing, and spotted a very large sprawling building a half dozen city blocks away.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that place. What is it?" Michael asked.

"When mistress Druella captured the city from the humans, some ruins were discovered over there. A friendly scholar told the mistress, and the mistress told us. So we came here and built that structure over the ruins." Zellie explained.

"That's pretty cool. What was in the ruins?" Michael asked.

"The lost magitech of the forgotten era." Zellie said, grinning.

"Ooooooohhhh~" Michael cooed.

"It's not something we let just anyone come in and see. But then... most humans couldn't care less about the mekanisms of the old age." Zellie noted.

"But I do care. A lot." Michael said.

"I thought you would. That's why I brought it up." Zellie said.

...

..

.

"You're not going to ask me for my Duster, are you?" Michael asked, eyes narrowed.

"No! My offer is this... if you give me one book regarding these Plymouth Dusters, I shall give you a tour of our work shops. Deal?" Zellie asked.

Michael blinked a few times in surprise, then started walking to the trunk of the Duster. He rifled around inside, pulled out a beat up plastic tote, and pulled out a nice book from inside.

"Here you go. The 1971 Plymouth/Chrysler Chassis Service Manual. Everything you could ever want to know about this car. It's all yours, I can always go buy another one." Michael said, smiling.

Zellie took the book and held it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"So... deal." Michael said.

He held out his hand, and she shook it.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael stepped through the front door of their new house, and closed the door behind him. As he turned, Sherry appeared as if from nowhere.

"GAH! Jees! You startled me!" Michael exclaimed.

"Sorry. So who was that?" Sherry asked.

"You were watching? Her name is Zellie. She invited me to go tour the gremlin facility a few blocks away." Michael recounted.

"In your condition? Are you sure that's wise? What if you get tired again?" Sherry asked, worried.

"I'll take it easy. It's just a tour. It's not like I'm going to go bust rocks all day." Michael reassured.

"I suppose that's true." Sherry said, uncertain.

.

.

"Very well, go with my blessing. But come home before dinner!" Sherry said, smiling.

"I will." Michael said.

And with that, he strolled out the front door. Sherry had a devilish smile on her face.

"What luck! Everyone knows the gremlins deal with magitech. And what piece of magitech is better known than... the Automaton? Which coincidentally... is on his harem list." Sherry thought.

Sherry looked around herself, and saw that she was indeed alone. The ghost maid was somewhere else in the house. So Sherry clasped her hands together and closed her eyes, and turned her face upwards.

"Dear goddess of love, the kind and gentle Eros. Please hear my prayer. Let the puzzle pieces fall together, and have my darling husband meet the automaton of his dreams." Sherry prayed.

...

..

.

Michael ended up parking the Duster over at the gremlin facility. As soon as it came to a stop, a dozen assorted gremlins of all sizes and shapes surrounded the car and began to ogle it.

"Hey ladies, like my Duster?" Michael asked nicely.

"Yeah! You're Michael Collins? Zellie told us about you."

Michael popped the hood of the Duster so the gremlins could look inside. They clustered around and began chattering amongst themselves while pointing interesting things out.

"Zellie said she was going to give me a tour, so I thought I would bring the Duster here so you all could look at it." Michael said cheerfully.

"A tour? Since when? She never told us about that."

"Speaking of... here she comes."

Zellie showed up with a skip in her step and a smile on her face.

"Heya! Ready for that tour?" Zellie asked cheerfully.

"Zellie! How could you let an outsider inside!? Don't you know that's not allowed!?"

"But he's okay. He's not like those machine haters who go around calling us heretics." Zellie said.

"That's a thing?" Michael asked dryly.

"Yeah. Turns out the humans think we're playing god by making machines that look like people. Well I say fuck them! Literally! Just fuck them up the ass with a steam powered dildo!" Zellie exclaimed.

"Still though, you should have at least told us you were planning on this."

...

..

Michael stood there silently as the gremlins argued amongst themselves over not only allowing Michael inside, but also the technicalities of the rules. As they argued, a solitary red headed gremlin snuck around behind Michael and reached into the engine compartment of the Duster.

*pop

Michael turned when he heard the distinctive suction/pop sound of a spark plug wire being pulled off a spark plug.

*pop

She removed a second one, and then swapped them.

"Excuse me miss, but please don't do that." Michael said kindly.

The arguing stopped, and the other gremlins focused their attention on Michael.

"I didn't do nothin'." The suspicious gremlin said.

"You swapped those two spark plug wires. If you do that, the engine won't run right." Michael explained kindly.

"I said I didn't do nothin'!" The suspicious gremlin insisted.

Zellie pushed past Michael and pulled that gremlin away from the Duster.

"We've told you a hundred times! Stop breaking people's mekanisms!" Zellie exclaimed angrily.

A gremlin of importance walked into the scene, one who seemed like a leader of some kind. She had greenish hair with a white strand through it, and was physically taller than the others. The leader went to the Duster and pointed a finger at the troublemaker's nose.

"To the punishment pit with you! THIS. IS. THE. LAST. TIME!" The gremlin leader commanded.

...

..

.

Turning towards Michael, the leader waved her hand through the air.

"You are permitted to enter. Our reason for keeping outsiders away is to prevent troublemakers from entering. But how can we turn you away when we have a troublemaker of our own? That said... don't break things." The gremlin leader warned.

"No ma'am, I'll behave." Michael said instantly.

And with that, the leader of the gremlins marched back inside with the majority of her followers. Michael and Zellie remained.

"Want to start that tour?" Zellie asked.

"Sure! Why not!" Michael exclaimed cheerfully.

Michael followed Zellie into the facility, singing along the way.

"Hi ho, Hi ho, it's off to work we go~" Michael sang.

...

So as Michael and Zellie walked through the gremlin facility's long entrance hallway, they had a grand old time just nerding out and talking about electronics and mechanics, and even some radio theory. Her knowledge completely contrasted against her demeanor or style of speaking, and Michael quickly realized there was a lot he could learn from her about magitech. She had a way of saying very complicated things in very easy to understand ways. And there was quite a bit for her to say. And then of course there was the downright silly things the gremlins were doing... such as...

"Over here is our gyrocopter testing area. We're designing a new way for pistoning to occur." Zellie said.

"Pistoning in the engine, or pistoning for the pilot?" Michael asked.

"Both." Zellie said.

...

"Over here is our boiler room. Everyone inside is hot, wet, and bothered." Zellie said.

"Yep, that sounds about right for a boiler room." Michael said, nodding.

...

They passed a closed door with a red tinted magical lantern hanging beside it. Someone's silk stocking was hanging off the door knob.

"This is our dining area. It's currently in use." Zellie said.

"Yeah, it's about that time of day I think." Michael said, nodding.

...

"And this is our observatory of the transmundane." Zellie said.

Michael peeked into the room, and saw a large gyro machine with lenses attached to it. Several gremlins rushed to and fro around it, carrying scrolls and quill pens.

"What does it do?" Michael asked.

"It allows us to observe the ebb and flow of mana reflections in the sky, which allows us to very accurately spot sources of spirit energy in this world." Zellie explained.

"So it's a spying device for finding men." Michael reasoned.

"Pretty much." Zellie confirmed.

...

"This room contains our steam powered apothecary." Zellie explained.

"What do you do in there?" Michael asked.

"Well... we take common ordinary medicines and turn them into super dense versions of themselves. Our latest achievement was to take the venom of a manticore and compress it down ten thousand times. Now one little white tablet is like being poked by a manticore ten thousand times." Zellie explained.

"Uh...huh..." Michael said, shuffling backwards uncomfortably.

"No worries. We tested it on a man, and he's just fine. Right after the test, he volunteered to work over in our dining area." Zellie explained casually.

"I bet he did." Michael said dryly.

"We want to market it to Mistress Druella for the Order knights she captures. Grind up one of those little tasteless tablets into their food, and they'll pretty much permanently be cumming buckets~" Zellie explained.

"Note to self... never eat anything here. Ever." Michael thought.

...

"And this is my lab. I'm working on a neato new tool which will change everything we do here. Want to see?" Zellie asked.

"Sure!" Michael said enthusiastically. So Zellie escorted him inside her lab, which was amazingly neat and tidy. Leading him to a workbench, she offered him a chair and gestured to a mound of parts at least eight feet wide and two feet high.

"Isn't it neat? It's a device which will allow us to see low power flowing electricity. It creates a wave form for us to see." Zellie explained.

"Like an oscilloscope?" Michael asked.

...

..

.

"Have humans already invented this mekanism?!" Zellie exclaimed.

"Well, from the way you describe it... it sure sounds like an oscilloscope." Michael said.

"Damn it! I've been working on this for seven years!" Zellie exclaimed, frustrated.

"Oh don't take it so hard! So what if you weren't the first? You thought it up all on your own right? Doesn't that mean anything?" Michael suggested.

"I suppose..." Zellie murmured.

Right at that moment, a stranger strolled into Zellie's work area. Michael turned... and his jaw dropped.

"Oh, it looks like the spare parts I ordered finally showed up." Zellie said casually.

An automaton carrying a wooden crate walked in, placed the crate down on an empty work table, and turned to walk out. Michael was already on his feet and chasing after her. His hand reached for her shoulder...

"Excuse me, miss?" Michael started to say.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Zellie shouted.

Michael practically hopped in fright, and stuck his hands in his pockets. The automaton walked out without even slowing down.

"What do you think you're doing!? You never disturb an automaton who is doing a job!" Zellie chastised.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean any harm!" Michael said apologetically.

Michael sighed and sat down in a nearby chair, his hands in his lap.

"I don't want to cause problems. I'm a guest here." Michael said.

...

"You're interested in automatons?" Zellie asked.

"Yeah. So... maybe we've made things like oscilloscopes, but we've never been able to create a human-like machine before. And we've tried. Believe me... we've tried. I would love to learn what makes them tick." Michael said.

Zellie hopped out of her seat and headed for the door.

"C'mon, follow me." Zellie said.

...

..

.

Zellie lead Michael through the gremlin facility, down some long sloping hallways, until they arrived at a very old looking door. It slide aside like some sort of automatic door from a science fiction film.

"Whoa..." Michael mouthed.

The room on the other side of the door was massive, filled with rows upon rows of tall warded glass cases. Each one was about the right size to hold a person...

"The Order never had a clue that this place was here. If they had, there's no telling how powerful their defenses might have been. Automatons... by the thousands." Zellie explained.

...

"We've found automatons in ruins before, but by the dozens. Maybe even by the hundreds occasionally. But never have we found this many in one spot." Zellie recalled.

She chuckled.

"It was madness in here when they all came to life. Absolute madness as they ran around like headless chickens. But it all eventually died down when they all found masters." Zellie explained.

"All? Every one of them?" Michael asked.

"Yes. Their masters are not keen on strangers tampering with them. Frankly, I don't blame them. So I doubt you're going to get a chance at tinkering with one until we find more ruins." Zellie explained.

"Don't you guys have spare parts laying around? I'd be happy just looking at that. I'm sure I could learn a whole lot." Michael asked.

"Well if that's all you need, then I can certainly oblige. Follow me." Zellie said.

.

..

...

Zellie lead him back to her workspace, and then one door past it. There was another sliding door, which lead to a dark storage room.

"This is my storage area. I keep all my ongoing projects that need parts, and my failed projects in this room." Zellie explained.

She walked inside and illuminated the room with a magical lantern. Unlike her actual work area, her storage was a complete mess. In the back of the room was a tall object under a dusty white sheet.

"Pull that sheet down why don't ya?" Zellie asked.

Michael skinnied through the stacked up wooden crates and piles of junk, and got to the sheet. He grabbed a fist full, and gave it a good tug.

*FWOOSH!

A cloud of dust flew into the air, and Michael coughed.

...

And a warded glass case was revealed, with an automaton inside. At least... what was left of one.

"What happened to it!?" Michael asked.

Zellie appeared at his side, peering into the case while holding up the magical lantern. The automaton was in pieces, with wires and diodes sticking out of it at odd angles. Every limb was detached, including the head from the torso. All the pieces were hung up like chunks of robotic meat, hanging from sideways protruding hooks in the case.

"I spent months trying to turn that automaton on, back when we first got here. All the others turned on easily, but this one wouldn't. After a while, I gave up." Zellie said.

"What was the problem?" Michael asked.

"It's power core is destroyed. That's the one part we cannot fix. They can take a beating, crushing, and even fireballs thrown at them, but once they are gone... they're gone." Zellie explained.

"So just throw another power core in there." Michael said.

"It doesn't work like that. It would be like saying "Oh your soul died, so let's just get another soul and throw it in your body." Do you understand what I mean?" Zellie asked.

Michael hesitated a while, but eventually nodded. He stared into the lifeless eyes of the automaton. They were crystal blue, framed with a crop of dirty blonde hair that came down to below her neck. It made Michael's insides twist up, seeing her in that state.

"Tin man has no heart." Michael murmured sadly. Michael reached for the latch on the warded glass case, but Zellie caught his hand.

"Whoa there, not so fast. No touching the goods until we get the bartering out of the way." Zellie said.

"Okay. Fair enough." Michael said.

"Now to allow you to study the parts and play with them to your heart's content, I ask for one more book." Zellie said.

Michael nodded to himself. It was a very fair offer, and he could easily pay the price. But he was thinking about going a little further than that.

...

"How much to buy it outright?" Michael asked.

"Outright?" Zellie asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah. Why borrow the parts when I could own them? Then I could take my time and reverse engineer the design. What will that cost?" Michael asked.

Zellie rubbed her chin.

...

"Well... those horseless carriages interest me..." Zellie started.

"I'm not selling the Duster." Michael said flatly.

"No of course not. I'm not asking. Surely there must be other horseless carriages." Zellie asked.

"Sure. There's millions of them, of all sizes and types." Michael said.

"Then that is my price. I want a horseless carriage. If you give me that, then I will let you have what's left of this automaton." Zellie said.

Michael stuck his hand out.

"Deal." Michael said, smiling.

They shook hands firmly, grinning widely.

"I'll even let you use my lab here, to study it if you like. You can use all the special tools we have, which you will need if you wish to disassemble it further." Zellie said.

"For that, I'll make sure the trunk of your new car is full of books." Michael countered, smiling.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

And with that, Michael found himself sitting at the dining table that night, recounting everything that he had seen or learned to Sherry.

"That place was pretty wild! It was like the craziest fantasy steam punk monkey-wrench garage I've ever seen! They've got stuff in there that shouldn't even work, but it does!" Michael remarked, smiling.

"I'm glad you had a good time." Sherry said, smiling.

"Oh and another thing! I'm doing a trade with Zellie. We'll need to go back to Arizona, so I can do some shopping. She has some scrap parts that she's going to trade for a car." Michael explained.

"How interesting! What kind of car are you going to get her?" Sherry asked.

"Probably another Mopar A body of some kind. Maybe a Valiant, or maybe another Duster like mine. I'll decide once I get back to town and look through the classifieds." Michael said.

"Very well sweetie." Sherry said.

...

"Did you meet anyone new while you were over there with the gremlins?" Sherry asked.

"A few other gremlins, but I didn't catch their actual names." Michael said.

"I see. That's disappointing." Sherry said, dejected.

"I did get to see an automaton..." Michael started.

Sherry perked up.

"...but she was busy doing something for someone else, so I wasn't able to actually speak with her. It was still cool though." Michael finished.

Sherry sank back down.

"Tis a shame." Sherry said, frowning.

"With how powerful his attraction to machines, I was sure that sweetie was going to come home with an automaton this night." Sherry thought.

"I don't mind though. The thing I'm trading for is a non functional automaton. I can't wait to learn how they tick!" Michael said cheerfully.

...

"Aaaaaand there it is. Non functional eh? We'll see how that ends. I think sweetie is smart enough to fix anything." Sherry thought.

...

"Let us travel back to Arizona, right after dinner." Sherry said suddenly.

"Really? So soon? Are you sure about that?" Michael asked, surprised.

"The semen must flow..." Sherry thought.

"...Yes sweetie, I think we should go." Sherry insisted.

"Then I'd better go get my radio and talk with Stavish. Maybe we can get a lift on that helicopter she was talking about. In the meantime, I have a request." Michael said.

"What can I do?" Sherry asked. Michael leaned forward, his chair creaking.

"I know this is a dramatic change of subject, but roll with it. I need a necromancer. Hire one." Michael said.

! ! !

"That's no easy feat! Why do you need one?!" Sherry exclaimed, surprised.

"Don't ask any questions." Michael said distantly.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Michael found himself down at the city gates, talking to one Specialist Stavish. And he found himself looking at something he had never expected to see. For the first time as far as he could recall, she was wearing something other than her uniform.

"Is that... a bikini?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"I'm sorry sir. I didn't want to be out of uniform, but someone stole my clothes earlier and left me with this." Stavish said.

"How did it happen? Did you see who it was?" Michael asked.

"Not really. First something grabbed me and pulled me into the air a few feet. Then some woman started stripping me from behind." Then they put this crap on me, and let me go. I never did get a good look at them." Stavish explained.

As Stavish spoke, Michael noticed several other US Army soldiers wandering around in a similar state of being out of uniform. They still had all their web gear and weaponry, but they were also sporting traditional succubus attire. Bikinis, lingerie, and bondage outfits primarily. It looked quite ridiculous with their regulation haircuts and weapons.

"You did say you were having problems with the locals, and I guess you meant it. Man, you guys look goofy walking around like that." Michael chuckled.

"Yes sir, we do. And we would like to have our uniforms back. These damn things... don't stay on." Stavish grumbled.

She readjusted her bikini top, which had started to slip and show some nipple. Michael didn't say anything, but he did chuckle internally. They were after all inma clothes. They weren't intended to stay on for long in the first place. Nip slips were part of the design.

"Alright Stavish, I'll see what I can do. Let's go talk to the guard captain, and see if she knows anything." Michael suggested.

...

A few minutes later, and three people were standing in front of the guard captain, inside the guard building near the gate. Mackenzie, Stavish, and Michael all together.

"Hello ya damn two legged alligator." Michael said cheerfully.

"Good morning you shit flinging ape." The guard captain countered, grinning with sharp teeth.

The lizardman guard captain leaned back in her chair and looked Stavish over from head to toe.

"It's about time you weird dark knights finally put on some decent clothing." The guard captain shot.

Stavish scowled and fingered the M4 hanging at her side. "Do you know where my clothes went?" Stavish asked dangerously.

"In the trash heap where they belong hopefully." The guard captain retorted calmly.

*THUD!

Michael pounded the desk and glared at her, startling both Stavish and Mackenzie. The lizardman didn't even flinch, but she did grin.

"You want to throw down? GIVE ME THEIR DAMN CLOTHES YOU LITTLE CUNT!" Michael barked.

...

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I knew I was right about you! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" The guard captain laughed.

She leaned over and pulled a bottle out of the right hand drawer on the desk, and pulled out two pewter cups.

"Sit down Collins, and have a drink with me! We'll talk about it!" The guard captain said cheerfully.

So Michael took a seat in a rough hewn wooden chair on the other side of the desk. The guard captain poured two drinks, and slid one of them towards him. It smelled like whiskey.

"Nothing fancy. It burns on the way down and puts fire in your blood. Just the way a drink should be!" The guard captain said gruffly.

Michael took it and knocked back the whole drink in one gulp. Just as the lizardman captain had promised, it burned on the way down.

"Yessss... good. You drink it like a warrior should drink." The guard captain said, pleased.

"With all due respect sir, is this bitch whack?" Mackenzie asked.

"No, that's just how lizardmen are. Now... who stole their clothes!?" Michael demanded.

The guard captain leaned back in her seat again, nursing her second cup of liquid fire.

"There's a tailor here in Lescatie. She's one of the best in the business. An arachne, with an ittan momen assistant." The guard captain said.

"She stole their clothes?" Michael asked.

"Yep. She asked me to tell the knights to look the other way. It's not like it's actually theft, your foreign knights are getting better clothes in the end. It's just... a little underhanded persuasion." The guard captain explained, flashing her teeth.

"Where's her shop?" Michael asked.

"Hey wait a moment! You're not thinking about going there and getting those clothes back, are you? Her work is sought after by inma across the world! It's magic clothing that never wears out or fades! I have three sets myself!" The guard captain exclaimed.

"Either tell me, or I'll harass every last tailor in this entire city until I find the right one. Do you want that?" Michael warned.

...

*Sigh

...

She picked up the bottle and poured two more drinks. It was her third, and his second.

"It's the one in the market square by the fountain and the armor dealer. There's a big sign with yellow lettering on it, you can't miss it." The guard captain eventually said.

Michael swallowed his drink and stood up.

"Thank you captain. You were most helpful." Michael said kindly.

Just before Michael and his companions walked out the door, the guard captain called out after him.

"We're even!" The guard captain called.

...

"Yeah. We're even." Michael said.

*Click...

...

..

.

Shortly later, Michael and a dozen US Army infantrymen all found themselves in the Lescatie market. They walked past the countless inma venders all vying for their patronage. Before long, they arrived at a shop with yellow mystical runes for a name, near a fountain and an armor smith. Several pieces of cute ladies clothing could be seen in the windows.

...

Michael flicked his head in a direction, and half the soldiers went down an alley to go to the back of the building. The other half remained in the street as Michael walked through the door.

*Tingalingling~

A little bell went off as Michael strolled inside. His eyes were greeted with a pleasantly well illuminated storefront with reams of fabric and a rack of what Michael presumed to be items ready for pickup. An arachne appeared from a back room.

"Oh~! A male! Welcome to my shop hun~ What can I do for you?" The arachne tailor asked.

"Hello, are you the owner of this pleasant shop?" Michael asked cheerfully.

"Indeed I am! I've been here ever since the city was liberated! If you're looking for ladies clothes for your wife, I would be happy to get you started. If you want men's clothes, I have an assistant who can do that for you." The arachne tailor said.

"Actually, I am in search of women's clothes, but I need something very specific." Michael said.

He pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket, and handed it to the arachne.

"I took some measurements of my wife, and I want to buy her something special. Could you show me some of the designs that are in style lately?" Michael asked.

"Absolutely! Right over here we have our line of skirts and blouses!" The arachne tailor started.

As they passed the window, Michael made a thumbs up sign behind his back. The soldiers in front made sure they stayed out of sight, watching the situation unfold.

"Yes I think I like this. What's the turnaround time on something like this getup?" Michael asked.

"Well, there's a bit of a waiting list. Tell me... who might your wife be?" The arachne tailor asked.

"Her name is Sherry and she's a dark knight under Druella. You probably don't know her. She's... a little strange when it comes to clothes." Michael said, chuckling.

"Her wardrobe in the Lescatie Mansion had literally the same set of clothes repeated for every day of the week. It's something like what I would do." Michael thought.

"I don't know one named Sherry, but I'm sure I'll meet her eventually. I know all the dark knights. Druella has an agreement with me for all the dark knight's clothes. So... I suppose that means her wait will be a little shorter." The arachne tailor explained.

"Oh! That's nice! Thank you!" Michael said cheerfully.

"Was Druella responsible for the attack against my soldiers?" Michael thought.

*Pinch

*Rubrub

Michael flinched backwards when the arachne tailor pinched the collar of his shirt and rubbed it between her fingers.

"My my, what interesting fabric. Pray tell, where did you come across this?" The arachne tailor asked.

Her expression turned dark.

"And what fool tailor ruined it by throwing it together so haphazardly?" The arachne tailor finished.

"I got it at a second hand store." Michael said honestly.

"Hmmp... no wonder it fits you so poorly. It's too short in the torso, the shoulders are all wrong, the collar is too loose, and the sleeves are binding. You look quite sloppy." The arachne tailor said.

Michael gently pushed her hand away.

"These are work clothes. I don't care if they fit. So anyways, now on to..." Michael tried to say.

"That wife of yours. You say her name is Sherry?" The arachne tailor interrupted.

"...yeah." Michael said, slightly annoyed.

"What is her skill? Is she an archer? A lancer?" The arachne tailor asked.

"She's a battle mage. Her power is destruction, and she uses a sword." Michael explained.

*GASP

"Do you per chance refer to... Searraigh Fontaine?! Then that means... that means... you're Lord Collins!" The arachne tailor exclaimed, shocked.

"Heh, yeah. Surprise!" Michael chuckled.

He pulled another list out of his pocket.

"So besides those clothes for my wife, I also need some other... ~ladies~ clothes. I need fourteen ACU uniform shirts, fourteen ACU trousers, twenty seven pairs of combat boots, twenty seven pairs of infantryman's socks, and eight Kevlar helmets." Michael said.

The look of sudden realization crossed her face.

"Wait a minute now! Those clothes are horrible! I gave them far better clothes, and I didn't even charge them!" The arachne tailor exclaimed.

He smirked. "So you admit it!" Michael shot.

*Schhhrt

Michael lifted the radio mic to his mouth. "White Rook here." Michael said into the radio.

"We've found the clothes. They were in a dumpster in the back of the shop. We've captured some crazy looking girl made out of cloth." The radio hissed.

"Leave the cloth girl and bail. Clear." Michael said into the radio.

"Roger, we're exfil." The radio hissed.

He backed away towards the door.

"Nevermind about that dress for my wife. I've got what I want." Michael said, grinning.

"How dare you invade my shop like this!" The arachne tailor exclaimed.

"How dare you steal from my soldiers. After all I did to protect this city, you would think people would be grateful. I guess not. I wonder what Druella is going to say when I tell her about this." Michael shot.

"I was only trying to help! Have mercy! If I offend mistress Druella, I will be ruined!" The arachne tailor exclaimed, frightened.

He grabbed the knob to the door, making the door bell jingle slightly.

"You can find those clothes you gave them all piled up in the back. Don't bother us again. Have a nice day." Michael said.

"That's why I did it you know! Because you helped the city!" The arachne tailor called.

"Next time send us a Thank You letter. Or better yet, make it a post card." Michael said dryly.

*Click!

...

..

.

An ittan-momen rushed out of the back of the shop, and went straight towards the arachne owner.

"It's alright dear, they're gone." The arachne tailor said.

"They took the otherworld clothes! They were very angry!" The ittan-momen said in a soft voice.

"I know. I know. We were too careless in our quest. Now we have nothing to show for our work, and we've burned a bridge." The arachne tailor said.

Her eyes turned dark.

"Still though... I'll find a way to get that otherworld fabric, one way or another!" The arachne tailor exclaimed.

"Maybe we could be nice and try to make up." The ittan-momen suggested softly.

"Maybe you're right! I know! We'll make them clothes! That man, and his dark knight wife! They be so impressed they'll beg us to make more! And I'll demand they sell me that FABRIC! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The arachne tailor exclaimed.

...

~Later~

...

"Well that was a pain in the ass. Thanks for the help sir. I'll radio ahead and let that bird know it'll have passengers. If it sticks to the schedule, it should be here in twenty." Stavish said.

"Cool beans. I'll be ready." Michael said.

"Sweetie!" Sherry called from a distance.

"Uh oh, the succubomb is calling me. Catch you later." Michael quipped.

...

Michael turned to leave, and soon met up with a certain hurrying succubus.

"Sweetie! I found a necromancer in town, but she wouldn't hire herself out unless she knew exactly what she needed to do." Sherry said.

"Oh for fracks sake." Michael said quietly.

"What's going on? Why do you need to hire her?" Sherry asked.

"Take me to her, and I'll explain it." Michael said.

So Michael found himself in a dark creepy-looking building on the north side of Lescatie, in the shadow of the Lescatie family mansion. Sherry stood outside as Michael went inside to speak to the necromancer.

...

..

.

*THUD!

The door burst open, and a lich stood at the doorway. Michael was right behind her.

"So when do we leave!?" The lich asked loudly.

"What?! You changed your mind so easily?!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I have my reasons. When do we leave?" The lich asked again.

"We have transportation getting here in... ten minutes. We should probably head down to the gate and meet them." Michael said.

"I'll grab a couple of items I need for the ritual, and I'll be right there. Remember our price now. Fifty silver a head." The lich said.

"Agreed. Payable within two weeks. You'll have it in one week." Michael said.

And with that, Michael and Sherry walked away, heading back to the Lescatie main gate.

"Fifty silver a head? For... reincarnation I presume? That's not even a third of what a necromancer should charge. What's going on?" Sherry thought.

...

Shortly later, Michael and Sherry found themselves back down at the main gate. The place was swarming with Army, and the local dark knights were all milling around wondering what the commotion was about. Michael had his world war two era binoculars out, scanning the horizon.

"Stavish, that's a Blackhawk." Michael observed.

"Yes sir." Stavish said.

"Where the hell did you get a Blackhawk?" Michael asked.

"We stole it from the Marines sir." Stavish said casually.

"But the Marines use the Venom." Michael said.

"They stole it from us sir. We stole it back." Stavish explained.

"What the frack is going on back home?" Michael asked.

"It's no big deal sir. Just some rivalry between branches." Stavish said.

"I left Alistair in charge while we were gone. I hope he hasn't made a mess." Michael remarked.

...

"Hopefully... he got someone killed..."

...

Michael jumped in fright as he heard a spooky voice whisper in his ear. It was the lich, and her lip was curled into a slight sinister smirk.

"Oh I'm sorry, are you about to die from fright? I can take care of that." The lich said coolly.

"Not really." Michael said dryly.

"But you've experienced death before. I can tell. I can see it in your eyes. Your spirit is no longer firmly attached to your body..." The lich noted.

*Sliiiiiide

Sherry slid in-between the lich and Michael, placing herself between them. The lich didn't mind, she simply refocused her attention on Sherry.

"Oh and you... I can sense death upon you." The lich said, smirking.

"I've never died." Sherry refuted.

"I never said you did. I said I sense death upon you..." The lich said.

"Enough! We don't need this! I just want to take you to the job site, and then we part ways!" Michael exclaimed, frustrated.

"Very well. If that is what you desire." The lich said.

...

The Blackhawk helicopter drew closer as they waited. It seemed the lich didn't quite understand what was happening, and didn't noticed the helicopter until it was practically on top of them. She shrank back, hiding behind Michael.

"What? You afraid of something?" Michael asked.

"I do not fear death, but I do feel pain." The lich said meekly.

"Well... there's nothing to be afraid of. Sure it's big and loud, but it won't hurt you if you do what we do." Michael reassured.

Michael thought for a moment.

"You might want to plug your ears though. You too Sherry." Michael added.

The Blackhawk came closer and closer, the beat of the rotor thumping in the air. Before long, it made a perfect flat landing on a makeshift landing pad a hundred yards in front of them. A half dozen soldiers all piled out, carrying supplies with them as they went.

"You're up sir! Good luck!" Stavish shouted.

Michael waved at Sherry and the lich, who were both plugging their ears with their fingers. They hauled ass across the field and jumped inside the helicopter. There were rows of seats, and Michael snagged one. Sherry sat next to him, and the lich sat in a row behind them.

...

As soon as they were inside, a crew member plopped a padded headset on each of their heads. Michael put it over his ears, and the sound of the helicopter was greatly muffled.

"Whew! That's better! This thing is loud up close!" Michael remarked.

"I can hear you through this thing?" Sherry asked, surprised.

Michael pointed at the microphone, and Sherry nodded in understanding.

"So you've been on one of these contraptions before?" Sherry asked.

"Nope. This is my first time." Michael explained.

The crew member that had given them the headsets made sure they were secure by doing one last check.

"Okay everyone, hold on. We're lifting off." The crewmember warned.

Michael craned his head to look behind him. The lich was like a frozen statue, and would have probably looked as white as a sheet... if she weren't already undead.

"You okay back there?" Michael asked.

"I should have charged you more. I thought we were going to take a wagon or coach." The lich said, shuddering.

"Just relax. You're absolutely safe. The pilot is very well qualified to get us where we need to go." Michael reassured.

"What's a pilot sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"It's that man up there. He's the one controlling..." Michael trailed off.

...

"Um..." Michael murmured.

Michael stared at the shoulder of the pilot. He could see the camouflage uniform, a little of the side of his head, and his arm.

..

His eyes flicked to the crew member, who was buckling herself into one of the open seats. It was a succubus. She was also wearing a uniform, as was the co pilot. Both the co pilot and the crew member were wearing the same style of uniform, but the pilot...

"Hey, why's the pilot wearing Marpat?" Michael asked.

"Did specialist Stavish tell you how we stole this back from the USMC? Well... we stole a marine too." The crewmember said, grinning.

"How do you STEAL a marine?" Michael exclaimed.

The pilot turned in his seat and looked pleadingly towards Michael.

"Help me, I've been kidnapped. I want to go home!" The pilot complained.

"Don't pay him any mind sir. He's just joking. My husband actually loves being here... DON'T YOU?!" The crewmember said.

The co pilot's seat wiggled as another succubus leaned over.

"Isn't that right? Husband?" The co pilot asked pointedly.

"Uh... yeah sure... it's just swell." The pilot cringed.

Michael mouthed an expletive.

...

..

*Whiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrggggggggrrrrrooooooowwwwlllllllll

*WopWopWopWop

The turbine engines of the Blackhawk throttled up, and the heavy machine lifted up off the ground. Just as they got airborne, Michael looked back towards the Lescatie main gate. A crowd had formed to watch the amazing flying machine from another world. Which is something that wouldn't have been unexpected, and Michael might not have paid it further thought, if not for the glimpse of a familiar person amongst the crowd. It was Christine the dhampir.

...

Christine watched as the helicopter lifted up off the ground and flew away.

"Dahling... no..." Christine thought.

There were tears in her eyes as the helicopter became a dot on the horizon. Just then, Druella and a dozen dark knights all appeared amongst the crowd of onlookers.

"Where has Lord Collins and knight Searraigh gone? Have they left yet?" Druella asked hurriedly.

"They just left mistress, upon the wings of a spinning machine." An onlooker said.

"No! Why have they left? Were they offended by something? Can we still stop them?" Druella cried.

"They didn't say anything mistress, and I don't think we can stop them." An onlooker said.

*WHINNY!

A horse flew past Druella and her guards, galloping at top speed in the direction the helicopter went. It's rider was Christine the dhampir.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

*WopWopWop

The helicopter droned on as they made good time in the direction of the portal. Michael had his eyes peeled as they more-or-less followed the same road he had driven on when he first arrived.

"Hey pilot, keep your eyes open for a farmhouse with a barn." Michael said.

"We've passed a dozen already. You're going to have to be more specific than that." The pilot said.

"It's a little single story place with a chimney, a red barn, freshly plowed fields, and it's right next to the road. There's a clearing on the opposite side of the road you can land in." Michael said.

"I'll do my best. That's still pretty vague." The pilot said.

...

..

.

They flew for a while longer. The co pilot was the one who spotted the farmhouse first.

"Sir, is that the farm you're looking for?" The co pilot asked.

Michael leaned over and looked out the side of the helicopter.

"That's the one. Land in that clearing across the road." Michael instructed.

"Is this the farm you told me about?" The lich asked.

"Yeah. How long do you expect it to take?" Michael asked.

"At least a half hour, perhaps more." The lich said.

"We'll wind down the engines to preserve fuel." The pilot said.

"Your call. I'll keep you updated on the radio." Michael said.

As soon as they touched down, Michael went for the door. Sherry was right behind him.

"You stay here!" Michael ordered.

"But sweetie..." Sherry protested.

"STAY!" Michael ordered.

Michael looked away, and ignored her protests.

"Hey mac, can I borrow that M4? I'm out of ammo for my rifle." Michael asked.

The crewmember tossed the rifle to him. He ditched the headset/mic, and jumped out of the bird. The lich followed.

...

Once they got about fifty yards away, Michael glanced back towards the helicopter. Sherry was boring holes into him with her eyes. She did NOT like being left behind.

"She seems rather protective." The lich remarked.

"No kidding." Michael grumbled.

...

They got to the front door, and Michael reached for the door latch.

"There's life inside." The lich whispered.

Michael froze, his fingers a fraction of an inch from the latch. Changing direction, his hand went down to the M4 slung from his shoulder.

*Click

The selector went from safe, past semi, and stopped at auto.

"Stay behind me. It might be an Order straggler." Michael whispered.

He raised the rifle, and opened the door.

*Creeeeeak

"ON THE GROUND MOTHER FRACKER! RIGHT NOW!" Michael barked.

Michael charged inside, the muzzle of the rifle trained on an Order soldier. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, the soldier was by himself.

"DROP THE SWORD OR I WILL KILL YOU!" Michael barked.

The Order soldier hesitated for a split second, trying to decide whether he should obey or if he should attack. His eyes flicked fearfully between Michael and the lich.

*CRACK!

The lich flicked her fingers and used magic to snap the man's neck. He sank to the ground, quite dead.

"What the hell!? He was complying!" Michael spat.

"He's better off dead. He's less trouble that way." The lich said.

"That's just cold!" Michael exclaimed.

"As cold as my dead heart." The lich said.

...

..

.

*THUD!

Michael dumped the body of the once living Order soldier out the back door of the farmhouse. The lich bent down and held a strange vial over his body. A blue wisp of smoke rose from the body and entered the vial. Once it was all inside, the lich stopped up the vial with a cork.

"I'll reincarnate him when I get back to Lescatie. Who knows, he might end up being my husband." The lich said.

Michael remained silent, the M4 rifle held limp in his hand. The lich looked up at him with those uncanny eyes of hers, peering straight into his heart.

"Maybe he suffered a gruesome death, but at least he won't have to go back to the suffering that is his homeland." The lich reassured.

"I suppose." Michael murmured.

He grabbed the mic to his radio, and reported in to the helicopter crew.

"White rook here. Situation under control. Clear." Michael said into the radio.

Meanwhile, in the Blackhawk.

"Situation under control? What does that mean?!" Sherry demanded.

"It means the situation is under control." The pilot said dryly.

"Fool." Sherry grumbled.

...

..

.

~One Half Hour Later~

.

..

...

Sherry was sitting on one of the seats inside the Blackhawk, waiting anxiously for Michael to return. Of course it was only a grand total of thirty seconds before she began to painfully miss him, but thirty minutes nearly broke her sanity. Her mental conditioning saw to it.

"I cannot wait any longer. I must go to him!" Sherry exclaimed, frustrated.

"Wait mistress, he said to stay here!" The co pilot exclaimed.

Sherry didn't care. She jumped out of the helicopter and made a beeline for the farmhouse.

"Stupid sweetie... being so dramatic and trying to keep me away for no good reason!" Sherry thought.

She got to the front door, and paused to look at the Eye of Lilith carved into the doorframe. Stepping inside, she moved past the kitchen with POISON spray painted on the pantry door.

"What in the world happened here?" Sherry thought.

She heard voices coming through the back door, so she snuck up to the door and peeked out.

"It's nearly done now. They'll raise up, and it will be as if nothing happened." The lich said.

"Good. These people didn't deserve what happened to them." Michael said.

"It's a good thing you told me about them. I doubt anyone would have come all the way out here to check on them for a while. This is one of the farthest farms on the outskirts." The lich said.

...

"Tell me, why are you keeping this from your wife?" The lich asked.

Sherry perked up her ears, still hidden by the doorframe.

"She used to be an Order knight, and she did things. She killed people." Michael said.

"Sure. That's a common enough story." The lich said.

"But I don't want her to be reminded of it. This farmhouse and these farmers would probably give her flashbacks..." Michael trailed off.

"I understand. You're trying to protect her." The lich reasoned.

"Yeah." Michael said quietly.

Having heard Michael's reason for keeping her away, Sherry couldn't help but smile. She slunk backwards into the darkness, and prepared to return to the helicopter.

...

..

"But doesn't her past frighten you?" The lich asked.

Sherry skidded to a stop, and returned to the doorframe.

"Look... I've got my own funny way of thinking about things. I'll resent a person I have a grudge against until the end of time, but they have to do a hell of a lot to me first to earn that grudge. Sherry hasn't ever done anything to me. Not even a little." Michael explained.

"But what if she did?" The lich asked.

"To be perfectly honest... we'd have a major problem. I've had too many times when people seemed nice on the surface, and then turned out to be complete psychopaths. I'm not tolerating that for a nanosecond any longer." Michael said.

...

"I probably wouldn't ever forgive her." Michael added quietly.

*Gasp!

Sherry stepped backwards, her eyes as wide as saucers. Turning, he ran as fast as she could back to the helicopter.

...

Meanwhile

...

..

.

*Ruuuuuumble

"What's going on?" Michael asked.

The ground vibrated enough to make the farm house creak as Michael staggered and tried to stay upright.

"It's happening! They're about to rise up!" The lich said excitedly.

*POP

A fist popped out of one of the graves, and Michael took several frightened steps backwards.

*POPPOP

*Ruuuuuuumble

A mound of dirt rose up, and crumbled as it slid off the back of a man. Soon, the form of a woman and child followed him.

"Rise! Rise up! You have been summoned! I command thee, rise!" The lich cried, laughing.

The man moaned and shuffled forward towards the lich, tripped, and fell to a knee. He looked at his own hands, and watched as the color slowly returned to his flesh. His wounds closed themselves, and the decomposition faded. Before long, Michael was looking at a dirty but otherwise normal looking man.

"We're... alive?" The man questioned, confused.

"Do you know where you are?" The lich asked.

The man looked up from his hand, and slowly surveyed the area.

"This... is my home. I live here. With... my wife... and daughter." The man said hesitantly.

He whirled around and looked behind him. His holstaur wife was likewise restored, and similarly confused. The little girl was hanging off her mother's arm.

"Husband?" The holstaur questioned.

...

And all at once, they all lunged towards each other and group hugged. The lich sniffled, and wiped a tear from her eye.

"It gets me every time. I love this job." The lich said, smiling.

"If this were any sweeter, I'd get diabetes." Michael remarked, smiling.

Michael came over and put a hand on the man's shoulder. He looked up at Michael, and recognition etched his face.

"You're... the visitor." The man said.

"Yeah. That's me." Michael said.

*Clink

He dropped a bag of silver in the man's hand.

"We're square buddy. I replaced every single coin I used." Michael said.

"Thank you!" The man exclaimed.

"No. Thank you. I suggest you take your family and head for Lescatie. It's not safe around here anymore." Michael said.

The man nodded, and turned to hug his wife again.

*Sigh

...

Michael turned towards the house and grabbed his radio.

"This is White Rook. Spool up the turbines, we're leaving." Michael said over the radio.

"Roger. Powering up now." The radio hissed. Michael turned back towards the lich and the farmers.

"Alright everyone, it's time to..." Michael paused.

There wasn't a soul to be seen. No lich, no farmers, no dead Order soldier. Nothing. He was completely alone. All that remained was the fading remains of a teleportation circle.

"...go." Michael finished.

...

He looked around a while, but there was no further sign of them. They had all teleported away. Of in the distance, he could hear the whine of the turbine engines and the beat of the helicopter blades.

...

"Sir, we're ready to go whenever you are." The radio hissed.

"I'm on my way." Michael said over the radio.

...

Shortly later, Michael pulled himself into the Blackhawk helicopter. He handed back the M4 service rifle, and put on his headset.

"What happened to the lich?" Sherry asked.

"She teleported somewhere. I guess she went back to Lescatie." Michael said.

"I suppose that's somewhat safe, considering the Order has been pushed back. Very well." Sherry said.

"We can take off. We're done here." Michael said.

*WopWopWopWopWop

The bird lifted up off the ground, and took off towards the horizon.

"You did a good thing sweetie. I don't know how or why you knew these farmers, but you did right." Sherry said.

"I don't want to talk about this ever again." Michael said flatly.

...

..

.

As they flew along, Michael quietly looked out the side door to the ground below. He watched as familiar territory went by in minutes, which had originally taken him days to cover by Duster. They crossed the boundary between normal realm and demon realm, and the road turned into a seldom trodden rut filled mess.

*Smooch~

Sherry leaned over and kissed Michael on the cheek.

"What was that for?" Michael asked.

"Because you looked like you wanted a kiss. I love you." Sherry said, smiling.

"I love you too." Michael said.

The marine pilot glanced back at them for a moment, and then looked forward again. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"We're fifteen minutes out." The pilot said.

"Thanks for the heads up." Michael said.

"This really is a wonderful contraption! Will we get to fly again sometime soon?" Sherry asked excitedly.

"Yeah. When we go back to Lescatie." Michael said.

"Good! I can't wait! To fly amongst the clouds like this, in such a powerful way... it must be how the dragons feel when they fly!" Sherry remarked.

"But you have wings though. You could fly any old time you wanted." Michael said.

"I prefer being with you over the sensation of flying." Sherry explained.

...

A few more short minutes passed, and they got within sight of the portal. Michael could see it down there, standing tall amongst the trees. And surrounding it was an ever growing military firebase.

"I wonder what we'll name it." Sherry remarked.

"Name what?" Michael asked.

"That town down there. I wonder what we'll name it." Sherry said, pointing.

"That's not so much a town as it is a military encampment." Michael said.

"So we'll build a town around it. But we need to name it something. What was it you were calling it before? To Alistair I mean." Sherry asked.

"You mean the Chell project?" Michael asked.

"That's it! How about we name it Fort Chell?" Sherry suggested.

Michael laughed.

"Sure, why the hell not. Fort Chell it is." Michael chuckled.

The Blackhawk came down and landed perfectly in the middle of a makeshift helipad. Michael made a point to pat the marine pilot on the shoulder and give him a honest 'Thank You' for the lift. And with that, Sherry and Michael disembarked.

...

..

.

As they walked through the firebase, several soldiers stopped what they were doing and stood at attention. Nobody saluted, it was inappropriate to salute in a combat zone. There were also several civilian contractors on heavy equipment, bulldozing and clearing the area to construct better defenses and actual living quarters. Michael felt a little bad at first, the clearing had been quite beautiful before all the construction. He wondered if he had made a mistake introducing Sherry's world to his world. At least, a little.

"They look like they're setting up for the long haul." Michael noted.

"Stavish told them to do it. Honestly, I was too anxious to find you to think up something like this." Sherry explained.

The duo approached the portal, and Michael's footsteps began slowing down. Before long, he refused to take another step.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"The last time I went through this thing, it wasn't exactly... pleasant." Michael said.

"Yes. About that. How DID you end up going through the portal? I told you it was dangerous!" Sherry asked darkly.

"I didn't step through it. I was blasted through it." Michael recounted.

...

"And now I kinda don't want to touch it." Michael murmured.

"If you wish to return to your homeland, you must step through." Sherry said.

"Hmm..." Michael hummed, uncertain.

"If you step through, I'll get you a hamburger." Sherry teased.

! ! !

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael hefted up a big half pounder with mushrooms and swiss, and began singing.

"Hamburgers~ For America~" Michael sang.

*Nom

*Nom

*Nom

"So his weakness is food. That's good to know. Maybe if I tell his future concubines to make him food, he will be more accepting. I hope they can cook." Sherry thought.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

*Thump

*Thump

*Thump

Michael plodded up the steps to his old home sweet home, his keys jingling as he got near the top. When he got to the front door, he found the entire doorframe stuffed full of letters.

"Oh wow, the mailman was busy!" Michael exclaimed, shocked.

They began plucking the letters from the doorframe together, and then made their way inside. Each of them was carrying a bundle of envelopes, which they dumped on Michael's desk.

*Sigh...

*POMF

Michael flopped into his chair.

"One... two... three...four..." Michael murmured.

"What are you counting?" Sherry asked.

"How many seconds it takes before I wind up in the bedroom with a succubus attached to my pelvis" Michael said dryly.

...

"I uh... well... you're not wrong. But... your injury..." Sherry hesitated.

"We'll see how long that lasts. I don't think it will much longer." Michael said.

"I won't hurt you. I refuse." Sherry said firmly.

"I mean I'm feeling better all the time. I don't think it will be much longer before I'm back to normal." Michael clarified.

"Oh. Still though. Do you think me that incapable of holding myself back? I'm not a beast. I'm more than that." Sherry insisted.

"A beast? Hah. A monster... in bed. And I love every bit of you." Michael said, smiling.

"Aww, you always know what to say to warm my heart~" Sherry said softly.

...

..

.

"Junkmail. Junkmail. Junkmail. Another few pamphlets from the Mormons. Junkmail. And a bunch of creepy letters." Michael said.

That last part caught Sherry's attention. She snatched one of the letters out of his hand, and turned it over to look at it. The handwriting was beautiful, and there was little hearts and unicorns doodled all over it.

"Creepy?" Sherry questioned, confused.

"Yeah! Who sends someone a letter like that?! Look at this one, someone addressed it using cut out letters from a newspaper like some sort of ransom note! I'm not opening that!" Michael exclaimed.

Sherry took the second letter, and closely scrutinized both of them.

"These were sent by inma, I can sense their mana. So it's safe." Sherry reassured.

She offered them back to him, but he waved his hand at them.

"Nope. No thanks. Just my luck, they have anthrax in them." Michael refused.

"*Sigh... very well sweetie. As you wish." Sherry said, dejected.

...

..

.

Sherry sat on the couch and opened all those strange letters while Michael pulled out his phone and turned it on. The moment it connected to the cell towers, it showed a ton of missed calls.

"Gee people, I wasn't exactly in T-mobile's service area you know." Michael muttered.

...

*Beepbeepboopbeep

Michael sent a text message to Alistair, letting him know they were back in town. A reply came almost immediately.

"Alistair says welcome home. He'll come by tomorrow after we've had a chance to get some sleep." Michael said.

Michael spun the chair around and stabbed the power button on his desktop with his finger.

"Oh! This letter is nice! An inma from a faraway land is thanking you for bringing me here!" Sherry remarked.

"Is there any white powder in the envelope? Don't breathe it. It might be Ricin." Michael quipped.

"Stop that sweetie. Pest." Sherry grumbled.

She opened another envelope. Cash fell out.

"See sweetie? This one sent money. How could you say no to free money?" Sherry asked.

"I suppose." Michael said reluctantly.

Sherry opened another envelope, and read the letter that fell out.

"Oh how sweet! This one drew portraits of us! It must have been one of the ones who helped draw the portal magic circle." Sherry admired.

She showed Michael the drawings, which were really fantastic. The artist really captured Sherry's exotic beauty quite well.

"That's pretty good." Michael noted.

"Indeed! I especially love yours! I'm going to put it right up on the wall next to the fairth mistress Druella gave me!" Sherry exclaimed cheerfully.

"Ugh... I get enough of looking at myself in the mirror. Can't you just keep it in a photo album or something?" Michael asked.

"Nope! You're handsome and I want to look at you all the time! So it's going straight onto the wall!" Sherry said cheerfully.

She placed a finger on her chin.

"In fact, I wonder if we could hire a painter to paint the two of us together. Yes I would like that!" Sherry mused.

"Just take a picture." Michael said dryly.

...

~Later~

...

"Hmm... I wonder what car will work best for my new Gremlin friend." Michael murmured.

*Click

*Clickclick

He browsed around on the Cars and Trucks section of Craigslist, looking for something simple and reliable enough for Zellie to own. He didn't want something too new, because new cars were a pain in the ass to work on and generally low quality. He also didn't want something huge like a muscle car, because Zellie might end up wrecking it.

"A slant six would be good. Or maybe a Jeep with a Go Devil engine. Something rock solid, but won't put her in a ditch with a tap of the gas." Michael said to himself.

He went to the left hand side of the screen, and filtered the cars by model year. By default, he didn't even want to bother looking at cars which were newer than 1973.

"I'm looking to get Zellie a good reliable car. One that can be fixed in any bum frack town in the middle of nowhere with baling wire and a hammer." Michael muttered.

*Scroll

*Scroll

"One that even a high school dropout could understand and fix with basic tools and duct tape." Michael muttered.

*Scroll

*Scroll

"Whoa!" Michael remarked.

"What did you find?" Sherry asked.

"...A Gremlin!" Michael remarked.

...

~A Little While Later~

...

Michael and Sherry left the apartment and hopped into the Duster, which they used to cruise on over to another part of town which had a car for sale. They pulled up to some guy's house on a large ranch property. The gentleman who owned the place was already on his way out the front door as the duo got out of the Duster.

"Hey, I'm Mike. I called about your craigslist listing?" Michael said.

"Sure, right over here. She's all ready for you." The rancher man said.

They walked on over to a barn, which had the big doors hung wide open. Already Michael could see the ass end of a very familiar looking car.

"What is this sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"This is a 1972 AMC Gremlin. It was never a performance car, it was intended to be a cheap grocery getter. But that's fine, Zellie doesn't need a performance car. She just needs a reliable car to learn with." Michael explained.

He began looking the car over from bumper to bumper. It was in remarkable condition. The upholstery was flawless, which was unusual for an Arizona car. There wasn't a single dent or chip in it, and there was zero obvious sheet metal rot.

"What's the story with this one?" Michael asked.

"Well... it's my mother's car. It belonged to my dad before he passed away." The rancher man explained.

"And he was the first owner?" Michael asked.

"No. That would have been my uncle. You see, he had just bought the car when he got drafted and sent to Vietnam. He never came back." The rancher man said.

Michael winced.

"After that, my dad drove it a little. He didn't like it too much, he was more into those big Ford trucks. So it stayed in pretty good shape until he passed in '97." The rancher man recounted.

"I suppose that makes sense for a rancher. A truck is a lot more useful than a little compact car. So how come your mother is getting rid of it now, and not back in the nineties?" Michael asked.

"Medical bills. She's caught the cancer." The rancher man said.

"I'm sorry." Michael said mournfully.

"It's alright. She's just about got it beat, but she needs to pay the bills. So anyways, yeah, this car has sat here for at least twenty years." The rancher man said.

Michael glanced at the license plate.

"Over thirty years. The plate is tagged 1981." Michael noted.

"Well son of a gun, sure enough. That must be it. I didn't remember it ever being driven at all, it's been here as long as I recall. And I was born in 1979." The rancher man said.

"So this rig is a true thirty year old barn-find, in a real barn! Wow!" Michael remarked.

"I gotta tell you though, we haven't got any of the papers. You'll have to do a bonded title." The rancher man said.

"Ehh, I'm not worried about any of that. I know that process like the back of my hand." Michael said.

...

And with that, Michael opened the car up and popped the hood, and did a quick mechanics' inspection. He grabbed the fan on the front of the engine, and gave it a spin.

"Well, it's not locked up. That's a good sign. It's an inline six cylinder, but I don't know a damn thing about these ones. Other than they were good engines, the whole series. These AMC cars had rock solid reliable drive trains." Michael said.

He then pulled the dip stick and looked at the oil.

"Reeks of gasoline..." Michael stated.

*SHINK

Sliding the dip stick back in, he moved on to other things. Coolant was AWOL, as was the brake fluid. The clutch fluid was still there though. The battery was long since dead and gone, having been there since the Reagan administration. He rubbed his finger against the inner fender.

"It's never been painted. This is the original factory baby-puke-green. Although the pinstripes are done after the fact." Michael remarked.

On the inside of the car, Michael inspected the odometer.

"Thirty five thousand. And from the looks of the clutch and brake pedal, that's a legit number. Jees, you never see a low mileage car like this anymore. It's just unheard of." Michael said.

"What's that smell sweetie?" Sherry asked.

Michael looked around the inside of the car, his nose sniffling. He noticed a Led Zeppelin air freshener hanging off the rear view mirror.

"It smells like plastic fumes and bad life decisions. So... typical 1970's. Don't breathe too deep, you might get woozy." Michael said.

...

A little while later, after further inspecting the car, Michael made up his mind.

"Okay Sherry, let's go pay the man. This is a winner if I've ever seen one." Michael said quietly.

"Do you wish to negotiate with him?" Sherry asked quietly.

"Nope. He's not asking what the car's worth. I'll pay his asking price, and I'm not going to be greedy about it." Michael said quietly.

"That's big of you sweetie." Sherry remarked quietly.

...

And just like that, Michael became the proud owner of a 1972 AMC Gremlin.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael marched into the barn with heaps of grocery bags in either hand. He dumped them on the ground, and pulled out a tool from his back pocket.

"Okay gremmie, I have vice grips and I'm not afraid to use it!" Michael said, smiling.

Sherry followed him into the barn, carrying a new car battery and a jug of gasoline.

"Why don't we simply shrink this new car down and carry it away from here?" Sherry asked.

"Because I've been dreaming of doing a barn-find revival for years. I'm not missing out on my chance!" Michael said excitedly.

"What would you call the Duster then?" Sherry asked.

Michael paused and thought about it for a while.

"Desperation." Michael said.

He leaned in under the hood once again, and began pulling off the air filter intake. Almost immediately, a mouse ran out the snout and disappeared down the backside of the engine.

"It's moving day Mickey!" Michael quipped.

He lifted the whole circular air filter intake off the carburetor, and it made rattling noises. He turned, and dumped it on the ground.

*POOF!

Various remains of mesquite pods, corn cobs, nesting material, and mouse poop all dumped onto the ground. Dust slowly rose.

"Hello hantavirus my old friend~ I've come to speak to you again~" Michael sang.

"You sure seem cheerful while being faced with what seems an insurmountable amount of filthy work." Sherry noted.

"It's my bag." Michael said, shrugging.

"Your...bag?" Sherry asked, confused.

"Yeah, it's my bag baby~" Michael said, with a british accent.

Sherry stared at him blankly.

"Remind me to make you watch Austin Powers when we get done with all this." Michael said.

"Okay?" Sherry said, uncertain.

...

~Later~

...

"Right, the battery is installed. Turn the key." Michael instructed.

Sherry straightened, having let her attention slip over the previous hour Michael had been tinkering. Her hand reached for the ignition.

"Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrr

"That's not a good sign. There's no compression." Michael noted.

"Oh dear, is that very bad?" Sherry asked.

"Not necessarily. This thing has been sitting a long time. The rings are probably seized on the pistons." Michael said.

Michael produced a bottle of gasoline, and fed a little plastic tube into the carburetor.

"This is premix. It's two stroke oil mixed with gasoline, which should help lube and loosen things up." Michael explained.

*Squiiiiiiirt

*Squiiiiiiirt

"Okay, crank her again." Michael said.

*Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirr

*Whiiirrwhiiirrrrrrrrrrrr

*Whiiiirrrwhiiirrrwhiiirrr

"Hear that? Compression came back in a couple cylinders. Maybe there was crap stuck on the valves, maybe the rings were stuck. But there should be enough to get it to fire." Michael explained.

"Amazing! You're so smart sweetie!" Sherry exclaimed.

Sherry swung her legs out of the car and rounded the fender to stand next to Michael. He pulled a spark plug out, and inspected it.

"Nothing scary looking there. Hmm... probably doesn't have spark though. Could you crank it again? I'll hold the plug against the engine and see if there's anything to see." Michael said.

So Sherry reached into the cab and turned the key again. Once more, the engine whirred as the starter cranked it.

"Nothing! Dang it!" Michael exclaimed.

So he quickly popped the distributor cap off, and ran a file through the points. Sherry hovered nearby, watching his every move.

...

"Hey, why don't you stick your tongue on that spark plug and see if we have spark." Michael joked.

"Okay sweetie." Sherry said.

She picked it up, plug and wire, and went to stick her tongue on it. Michael snatched it out of her hand.

"Holy crap I didn't think you'd actually do it! It was a joke!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh! Why you little trickster! Hehehe~" Sherry giggled.

Michael shook his head and went back to work.

"How much do you have to trust someone before you'll stick your tongue on something that has SPARK in the name?" Michael thought.

As he thought that, Sherry hugged him from behind. He kept working.

"It must be something about Sherry, because those inma in Lescatie were sure not trusting at first." Michael thought.

...

"Okay, crank it again. It should have spark now." Michael said.

Sherry let go of his back, and slid herself back into the driver seat. She turned the key, and the engine spun over.

"YEOWCH! Yeah! It has spark!" Michael called.

...

..

.

~Much Later~

.

..

...

"It's getting dark sweetie. When are you going to give it a rest?" Sherry fretted.

"When I've got this car as polished as the door knob of a whore house on discount night." Michael countered.

"Heh, that's a good one~" Sherry remarked.

...

"Okay, I saved the worst job for last. I now... have to empty thirty year old sconge out of the gas tank." Michael said, wincing.

He rounded the car, and then laid down on the floor behind the bumper.

"Gee I wonder what gas smelled like in ol Ronny Reagan's day. Let's find out!" Michael said sarcastically.

*Sliiiiiiiiide

"Oh! Mmmkay! Yep. Uhhuh. Okay. Yep. Mmmhmm." Michael said, muffled.

"What have you found sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Well... it's a little hard to describe. Could you open the trunk for me?" Michael asked, muffled.

"As you wish." Sherry said.

She popped open the trunk and looked inside. Michael's face was smiling up at her through a giant hole in the floor.

"Hai~!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh my goodness!" Sherry exclaimed.

"So the good news is... I don't have to drain out any old gas. The bad news is... as best I can figure, home boy thought it would be a great idea to store a fifty pound bag of water softener salt in the trunk of the car he wasn't ever going to drive again. It rotted clean through the floor pan and the gas tank." Michael explained at length.

"Water softener salt? What's that? If it will do that to metal, then what does it do to people?" Sherry asked, worried.

"It makes us sterile." Michael said casually.

*GASP!

Sherry grabbed his ankles and violently dragged him out from under the car. He was snickering the whole way.

"You little demon! I should flog you for such a distasteful joke!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Ooooohhh, I wouldn't mind learning what a succubus flogging involves. Do you use your tail?" Michael asked, grinning.

"Well... not exactly..." Sherry said, uncertain.

"Oh? Then does it involve the punishment pit?" Michael asked.

"When did you learn about that?! Did you get thrown in?!" Sherry asked, shocked.

"No, did you?" Michael asked quickly.

...

"I... did." Sherry answered honestly.

"Oh yeah? Huh." Michael said,

*Sliiiiiiide

He grabbed the bumper and slid back under the car.

"Are you disappointed in me sweetie?" Sherry asked quietly.

"Nope." Michael said, muffled.

*BANG

*BANG BANG

"Yep, rotted all the way up there. Someone's gonna need the old BZZZT BZZZT!" Michael said cheerfully.

He slid back out of under the car, and sat up.

"Okay, that's enough for today. Let's pack it in and go home." Michael said.

"What? Just like that? Do you want me to shrink it down?" Sherry asked.

"Hell no. I'm going to rube goldberg that jerry can somewhere, and drive this piece of shit back home." Michael said.

...

..

~Shortly Later~

..

...

"And the rube goldberging is done, time for me to sit in this thing." Michael said.

So he went for the driver door, and proceeded to sit in the car. Or at least... try.

"C'mon get in there! Wedge your fat ass... THERE!" Michael exclaimed.

He dragged his legs inside, and managed to just BARELY fit them under the steering wheel.

"Good lord people were small in 1972!" Michael exclaimed.

"You're just a big man sweetie. You're tall and strong~" Sherry admired.

Having squeezed into the car, he started looking around at the various things that had been forgotten inside. Starting with the glove box.

"Mouse nest. Go figure. Oh hey, there's actual gloves in the glove box! Wow! How novel!" Michael exclaimed.

He pulled out a wad of papers and started looking through them.

"Looks like homeboy traded in a Corvair for this thing. Smart move. Those things were unsafe at any speed." Michael said.

*Shuffle

"And homeboy paid extra for the 8 track player and air conditioning! Nice!" Michael exclaimed.

Stuffing the papers back into the glove box, he started rummaging through all the crap on the floor. His hand came up with an 8 track tape.

"No freaking way! It's AC DC! YEAH! I'm trying that later!" Michael exclaimed.

Plopping the tape on the passenger seat, he looked in the back for more stuff.

"Some old tube socks... Aaaaaand... half a pack of Marlboros, with an old school Bic included." Michael noted.

*Flick

"And what do you know, the Bic still works!" Michael remarked.

He tossed all the stuff back where he found it, and turned towards the steering wheel. It was sticky and gooey from sitting for decades.

"Okay, let's get this over with. Plug that clicky clacky fuel pump in." Michael said.

Sherry took an alligator clip and connected it to the positive of the battery. An electric fuel pump connected to a five gallon gas can duct taped to the ceiling of the car began clacking away. Michael turned the key.

*Whirrrwhirrrwhirrrwhirrr

*WhirrPUTTPUTTWhirrrwhirrPUT

"Why are you bothering with all of this?" Sherry asked.

"Why? Because I want those automaton parts. I'm used to arab horse trading, so this doesn't bother me." Michael said.

He turned the key again, and the engine faithfully cranked over.

*WhiPUTPUTPUTPUT

*BraaaaaaAAAAAA!

"Wow, that's an angry little straight six." Michael muttered.

"I've shrunken the Duster, and all the tools are collected." Sherry said.

"Then get in the passenger seat! We're outta here!" Michael exclaimed cheerfully.

...

After Sherry got into the Gremlin, Michael started fiddling with the radio knobs.

"I've got to know... does it work?" Michael asked.

*POP!

*CRACKLE!

"...and in other news, rain is forecasted for Maricopa and Yavapai counties with a small chance of snow..." The radio hissed.

"It works! Damn!" Michael exclaimed, smiling.

He reached for the passenger seat, which was occupied by a certain succubus.

"Lean over to one side. I want that AC DC tape." Michael said.

Michael stuck his hand under Sherry's ass, and retrieved the tape. He jammed it into the player, and AC DC started coming out of the speakers.

"I wish you would be that forceful to me." Sherry quipped.

Michael glanced at her in confusion. She curled one hand into an O shape, and then jammed her finger through as forcefully as Michael had jammed the cassette into the player.

"Do you look at literally every action in some sort of perverted light?" Michael asked.

"Yes." Sherry said.

...

..

.

~A Day in the Life of a Succubus~

.

..

...

When Michael peeked up through the hole in the trunk of the Gremlin...

"Could I get him to peek up my skirt like that? I'm not wearing anything underneath." Sherry thought.

When Michael leaned over the engine compartment of the Gremlin for the first time...

"Ohhh... tweak that wingnut. Tweak it good. Tweak it like my nipple. Ohhhhhhh~" Sherry thought.

When Sherry was opening letters at the apartment...

"I wonder if I'll get to read a saucy confession letter." Sherry thought.

When Michael and Sherry were aboard the Blackhawk...

"I can feel the vibrations of this machine pulsing through my whole body~ I've cum fifteen times~ Has sweetie noticed?" Sherry thought.

The previous day when Michael was drunk and passed out in bed...

"And if I pose him like this, it looks like he's fucking a pillow. Hehe~ Now... if I move the pillow and slide my head in there..." Sherry thought.

.

..

...

~Thus Ends... A Day in the Life of a Succubus~

...

..

.

Michael, Sherry, and the AMC Gremlin found themselves parked at the gate to the ranch. Right in front of them was the street that lead back to town, and there was a small amount of traffic going by.

"Sweetie, I've been meaning to ask something. Didn't you say there was something you needed to fix on this car?" Sherry asked.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Something about brakes?" Sherry reminded.

"Hmmp, brakes are entirely optional." Michael said.

"Optional?!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael threw the car in gear, and placed his fingers on the key. He was going to start the car in gear, since it didn't have a clutch.

"Here we go! YEEEEEEEET!" Michael exclaimed.

*WhirrwhirrwhirrBRAAAAA!

The car immediately jerked forward and lunged into the street. A car honked at them.

"Sorry, my bad! Whoa! Running that stop sign! I HAVE NO TURN SIGNALS, GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Michael shouted.

Michael let the gas pedal up, threw it in neutral, and began putting light pressure on the shifter knob. It growled and growled and growled as the gears weren't moving at the same speed... until...

*WHAM!

"Second gear!" Michael cried.

The Gremlin lurched and sputtered down the road, protesting it's sudden movement after several decades of slumber.

"I wonder if this thing has headlights. It's getting mighty dark." Michael said.

*CLICK

"Nope! No headlights! Sherry, hand me that bright LED flashlight of mine." Michael said.

And just like that, Michael made his way down the road while holding a flashlight out the window and bang shifting his way through traffic, all while jamming to AC DC.

"Sweetie, what are you going to do about that red light coming up?" Sherry asked.

"Hope it turns green." Michael said simply.

...

"It's not turning green." Sherry said.

...

"IT'S NOT TURNING GREEN!" Sherry panicked.

"It's fine. Push comes to shove, I'll just crash into the ditch." Michael said casually.

Sherry frantically clutched the arm rest and seat as Michael crept up to the light without stopping. Just at the last moment, it flicked to green.

"MAXIMUM POWER! GO GREMMY GO!" Michael cried.

*COUGH!

*WHEEEEEEEEEEZE

The Gremlin popped and coughed, and lurched down the road.

"I hope no cops see the thirty year old expired registration! Especially Serena!" Michael exclaimed.

...

..

.

The Gremlin eventually came to a gentle stop against a hedge bush near their apartment. The engine sputtered silent.

"Well, good news, we didn't die." Michael said.

Michael glanced over at Sherry, who was as pale as a sheet.

"You're utterly mad." Sherry mumbled.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time." Michael said.

"This is insane! It's as if you have no concern at all!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael's expression became somber for a moment.

"There was never really any danger. I knew there wasn't going to be many cars on the road if I waited long enough. That's why I sandbagged so long on the repairs." Michael said.

"You... sandbagged...?" Sherry trailed off.

Michael nodded.

"It's just a little Gremlin. It's probably the least impressive car from the 1970s. I was just trying to pay it some respect by bringing it back with style. The original owner didn't make it, and nobody's been around to love this thing like it should be. I wanted the world to see that even an abused little economy car can come back, with just a little bit of work." Michael said.

He slid out of the driver seat, and stretched out for the first time in a while. Seeing Sherry pop out of the other side, he kept speaking.

"No brakes, no clutch, no gas tank, no lights, no gauges, and no good tires. No problem. An old car... will always get you home." Michael said.

He started walking towards the stairs up to their apartment.

"Oh and by the way, I really am bat shit crazy. Just imagine what my kids will be like." Michael said.

...

The Next Morning

...

It was before dawn. Michael was deep in a wild nightmare, where he found himself huddled under a bridge. He struggled to keep his breath under control as his eyes fearfully looked upwards towards the concrete arch of a bridge overhead. In the stillness of the night, he heard a rhythmic clicking sound.

*Click...click...click...click...

The sound was coming from the bridge above, slowly crossing the bridge until...

*ClickSCUFF

The sound stopped right over his head. With the clicking gone, there was no sound other than the thumping in his chest. It seemed as if all sound was absorbed in the night fog filling the area.

"You've run from me for many months now, but you have nowhere else to go. Give up. You cannot escape!"

Michael remained silent, refusing to give away his hiding place. For all the good it would do him.

*SHIIIING!

Michael's head twirled just in time to see the glint of a demon realm silver blade in the dim moonlight. In the brief flash just before the blade connected, he saw Sherry's face.

.

..

...

*GASP!

Michael jerked awake, safe and sound in his apartment. He was in his room, not under a bridge. And Sherry was there, holding his arm and looking worriedly into his eyes. For an instant as Michael transitioned between sleeping and awake, he flinched hard away from Sherry's grasp.

"NO! GET AWAY!" Michael shouted.

"What happened?! SWEETIE!" Sherry cried.

Sherry held onto him, until he calmed down.

...

"I uh... had a bad dream. I'm sorry." Michael said groggily.

"No! Not again!" Sherry exclaimed.

She clutched his head to her buxom, and rocked back and forth. It looked like she was about to break into tears.

"Just relax. Go back to sleep." Michael murmured groggily.

"That's it! Aha!" Sherry exclaimed.

Suddenly her grasp on his head went limp, and she collapsed backwards onto the bed.

"Wh... what the frack? Sherry, are you alright?" Michael stammered.

He picked himself up and hovered over her collapsed body.

"You're breathing alright. And you're heart...beat..." Michael murmured.

His eyelids suddenly got very heavy, and he found it nearly impossible to keep himself upright. He collapsed on top of her, and went into an incredibly deep slumber.

...

..

.

Michael found himself sucked into an alien dream world, filled with strange lights and colors. It was the city of Lescatie, but different than how he remembered. Everything looked so vibrant and bright, and the smells were exquisite. Michael's memories of Lescatie consisted of a beautiful but dark city, and didn't smell like much of anything.

*Grab

A hand landed on his shoulder. He was slowly turned around until he was face to face with none other than Sherry herself.

"Sweetie, you're dreaming." Sherry said.

"Wha?" Michael said groggily.

"You. Are. Dreaming. Come back to me." Sherry said.

...

..

"You... did this to me before, didn't you? I remember now. Back in Las Vegas." Michael recalled.

"I did. Most nights I spend wandering around doing other things, but tonight I decided to sleep alongside you. Actually, your face is buried in my tits right now~" Sherry said.

"But why? What did you want to show me this time?" Michael asked.

"I didn't want to show you anything. I just want you to have a good night's sleep. Where we are doesn't really matter, as long as you're at peace." Sherry said.

"Okay, well I appreciate that." Michael said.

Sherry smiled.

"Just the passive influence of a succubus is enough to affect a person's sleep. We are creatures of the night after all. I can only imagine how much difficulty sleeping you had before I came." Sherry said, smiling.

"Yeah. So uh... what now?" Michael asked.

"Nothing I suppose. I can't lay a finger on you, because that would take away your spirit energy just the same as if we did it in the waking world." Sherry explained.

"Okay... well we could always just talk." Michael said.

"Very well sweetie, what would you like to talk about?" Sherry asked nicely.

"I don't know. What would you like to talk about?" Michael asked.

"Hmm... I haven't the foggiest idea." Sherry said.

...

"I know! Hey sweetie, have you always had that mole on your head?" Sherry asked.

"What?! I have a mole on my head?!" Michael exclaimed.

"Hehe, yeah. You never noticed?" Sherry asked innocently.

"NO! Is it... a big one?" Michael asked.

"About the size of a lima bean." Sherry said.

"Ewwwww! What the hell!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh don't worry, you can't even see it through your hair. If it bothers you, I'll remove it." Sherry offered.

"You can... do that?" Michael asked hesitantly.

"Of course! I'll just get a steak knife and put it in the fires of the stove, and get it red hot and... " Sherry said.

Michael turned as pale as a ghost.

"HAHAHAHAHA! You actually believed me! Of course I'll just use magic to get rid of it!" Sherry laughed.

"O...kay..." Michael said, uncertain.

...

..

.

"So, what are we going to actually do if we can't think of what to talk about?" Michael asked.

"Anything we want. This is a dream. We could go flying, or swimming, or eat until we stuff ourselves to the brim. Anything we can imagine." Sherry said.

"Anything I can imagine huh?" Michael said distantly.

.

..

...

"IT'S PONY TIME! GET UP!"

Michael and Sherry both jerked when someone yelled loudly in their ear. The whole scene around them changed away from Lescatie, and into some sort of dance hall. People were dancing to the music of Chubby Checker's ~Pony Time~, and having an absolute blast.

"This is what you came up with?" Sherry asked incredulously.

"I'm sorry! I had that phrase stuck in my head all day!" Michael apologized.

"Come now, I can think of something better than this! I don't feel like dancing!" Sherry exclaimed, pouting.

"Agreed, I'm not really in the mood either. But I don't know what else to do. We can't bang." Michael said.

Sherry's eyes widened.

"Maybe I can't... but YOU can!" Sherry exclaimed.

"What?" Michael asked, confused.

*POOF!

...

..

.

*chirp~

*chirpchirp~

Michael appeared in a beautiful little grass clearing inside a well lit forest. He looked around, and saw a small cottage not too far away. A thin line of smoke trailed from the chimney, and a cute little tweety bird chirped and sang from on top the roof. His legs carried him to the cottage all on their own, and he found himself at the door.

*Clickswiish

The door unlatched itself and smoothly opened on oiled hinges. As Michael stepped inside, he was shocked to learn that the inside of the building was vastly larger than the outside. It wasn't a cottage after all, it was a full blown hotel.

"Welcome back Lord Collins, to the Silken Flute Hotel and Brothel. I was wondering when you would return. You usually come at least four times a week." The receptionist said.

"I do?" Michael questioned, surprised.

"Of course~! The girls have all been missing you. They've been asking if they could go look for you, but of course I had to say no. We can't be harassing the customers after all~" The receptionist said.

The first thought that popped into Michael's head was confusion. He had never set foot in a brothel in his entire life, much less partook. He was a virgin when Sherry came along. But as he stood there and thought about it, that confusion seemed wrong. Of course he had. He was there all the time. He suddenly remembered his (completely fictional) visits with the lovely ladies, and a lewd smile formed on his lips.

"Girls! Lord Collins has come!" The receptionist called sweetly.

There was a scramble as a dozen women all rushed out of their rooms to go line up in front of Michael. His eyebrows furrowed once again, because the parade of women marching out of the rooms were all the same black haired beauty. It was a dozen variations of Sherry. One was a succubus with huge cow tits, one was a succubus with wide birthing hips, and then the rest were all variations of the same woman. There was a lamia Sherry, an angel Sherry, a dragon Sherry, an inari Sherry, a kejourou Sherry, and so on. When Michael turned towards the receptionist again, he noticed that she too was a Sherry clone. His eyes raked over her hungrily, with her being the most goddess-like out of the bunch. The receptionist Sherry was identical to the way Sherry actually looked in real life.

"I can't make up my mind." Michael said.

"Well... you're the only customer here today. Why don't you just take them all?" Receptionist Sherry suggested.

All the girls nodded in agreement.

"For that matter, why don't I just close up shop and join you? I'm sure a stud like you would enjoy that~" Receptionist Sherry suggested.

And in a flash, Michael found himself inside one of the bedrooms. The girls surrounded him and guided him towards the massive four post bed, where they proceeded to strip his clothes off.

"Don't be nervous stud, we'll take very good care of you~" Receptionist Sherry said.

"I've never done something like this before. I don't know if I can handle it." Michael said nervously.

"Silly, of course you can handle all of us. After what you've done to all my girls individually, we're wondering if we can handle you~" Receptionist Sherry purred.

*Pomf~

Michael landed on the bed, and the girls all crawled on top.

"What do you want to do first? I can do great things... down here~" Big hips Sherry purred.

"Want a tit fuck? I bet you want to feel these girls again." Big tits Sherry suggested.

"Or maybe you want me to coil around you and squeeze that cum out of your balls." Lamia Sherry suggested.

"All of the above, and more." Michael said, grinning lewdly.

"Then let's open up with a little cowgirl. That's your favorite position if I recall." Receptionist Sherry said.

...

~Many Lewd Noises Later~

...

Michael lay on the bed, surrounded by a wall of sweaty female flesh. All the girls were half conscious, each one with their very own creampie. They pawed at him, both writhing in pleasure while greedily seeking more.

"I can't fuck another man anymore. Take me with you. I only want you." Big tits Sherry said.

"Yeah, I just can't do it anymore. Take me too." Big hips Sherry pleaded.

They all pleaded with him, as his eyes drifted shut.

"Sure ladies. I'll take all of you." Michael murmured sleepily.

"Well... if you're going to take them, I might as well shut down the brothel and go with you." Receptionist Sherry said.

"Sure sure, you too." Michael murmured sleepily.

His body was covered in a multitude of happy kisses.

"Take good care of us~! We'll love you forever and ever and ever...and ever..." Receptionist Sherry's voice faded.

.

..

...

Michael slowly woke up from his dream, to find the morning light streaming through the bedroom window of their apartment. Sherry was sitting on the edge of the bed with a tray of breakfast for him.

"Have a pleasant dream?" Sherry asked.

"I uh... it was weird. I'm not sure what to think of it." Michael said sleepily.

"Well I didn't create anything specifically. All I caused was for you to have a wet dream. The details of which were from your own imagination. Now... I have bacon!" Sherry cheered.

"Hmmmm... bacon." Michael drooled.

She placed the tray on his lap, and laid down next to him so she could watch him eat. She even snuck a bite or two off his plate on occasion.

"After breakfast, we'll need to go hunt down some sheet metal." Michael said.

"Sheet metal? What's that?" Sherry asked.

"You know... like the rotted out trunk of the gremmy? I'm going to hunt down a replacement and Zeus it in." Michael explained.

"Zeus?" Sherry questioned.

Michael sighed and let out a little chuckle.

"You know... BZZZT BZZZT." Michael said while gesturing with his hands.

"Oh... I understand now." Sherry said, nodding.

...

..

.

So after breakfast, Michael hopped onto the computer and started looking around for the sheet metal he would need to repair the gremlin. He looked around for a while, and ended up coming across a listing in Phoenix for a junkyard which had what he needed. Sherry teleported the two of them there, and they quickly worked out a deal with the owner of the junkyard. The sheet metal in question was coming from another gremlin which had an unfortunate encounter with a telephone pole sometime during the Carter administration. The only part still salvageable was the back end of the car, so that's exactly what they took. Five minutes later, they carried the torch cut floor pan and gas tank up to the main office to pay for it, blowing the minds of the junkyard guys from how fast they had removed it from the car. Of course Sherry's destruction magic was of great help, but Michael didn't mention that part.

...

~Later~

...

*BZZZZT!

*Crackle

*BZZZZT!

...

*PSSSST!

*PSSSSSSSSST!

*PSS PSS PSSSSST!

...

"Alright, there it is. Welded in, primed, and painted. Once you throw the trunk mat over it, you'd never know it was fixed." Michael said.

"Wonderful! You're an artist of the craft!" Sherry praised.

"Ehh... I still think they're booger welds. But hey, they'll hold. And I don't think Zellie is going to care." Michael said.

"Do you wish to return to Lescatie and give it to her?" Sherry asked.

"Heck no! Not until this car has been completely gone over! There's a rule when it comes to old cars. If it's electric, clean it. If it's rubber, replace it." Michael said.

"Hmm, because it breaks down with time?" Sherry asked.

"Exactly. Now... time to polish this turd." Michael said.

"Like the door knob of the whore house on discount night." Sherry said.

Michael paused... thinking back to that odd dream of his.

"Yeah. Something like that." Michael said.

...

~Several Days Later~

...

"There it is! It's finally done! And it looks perfect if I do say so myself!" Michael remarked, pleased.

Sure enough, the gremlin was gleaming in the morning sun. Michael had practically gone over the car with dental tools to get every little nook and cranny clean. Everything that could possibly fail had been replaced, everything down to the individual cork gaskets in the engine. The new/old tank had been acid dipped, cleaned, and sealed before being installed. It was filled to the brim with ethanol free gasoline. The carburetor was rebuilt and tuned perfectly, a new radiator was installed, and five new tires were installed (four plus a spare). Every bulb, hose, and wiper blade was replaced. He had even gone so far as to refurbish the sound system and buy a whole stack of 8 track tapes from a thrift store. Sherry had made the interior gleam just as much as the exterior.

"All in all, it's basically a new car." Michael said.

"I understand now why you wanted to keep working. This is a much better car to give Zellie." Sherry said.

"No tube socks or mouse droppings for her. I'm even letting her keep that AC DC tape." Michael quipped.

Michael crossed his arms, looked at their hard work, and nodded in approval.

"It was a lot of work, and I think we've earned a break. Want to go cruise on over to the diner and get a couple of malts?" Michael asked.

"Yes I think that sounds..." Sherry trailed off.

...

"Sherry?" Michael questioned.

"Why don't you go inside and change your clothes?" Sherry suggested suddenly.

"Sure, that sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'll grab a late cup of joe. I'm not a big fan of the stuff they've got at the diner. It's too bitter." Michael said.

With that, he turned and marched up the steps to the apartment, and went inside. Sherry remained standing by the gremlin, waiting quietly.

...

"Show yourself!" Sherry boomed.

A well dressed man appeared from within a walkway going through the apartment building. He had a suit and tie, and was holding an attaché case.

"I know you. I've seen your face before." Sherry noted, eyes narrowed.

"I'm Agent Statler with the Secret Service. You met me once before, at The White House." Agent Statler said.

Sherry immediately reached for her sword... and grasped at empty air. Internally, Sherry cussed.

"I would very much like to speak to Michael Collins, it's a matter of national secur..." Agent Statler tried to say.

"No. I shall not allow it. Be gone!" Sherry refused flatly.

"Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. I have business with you two." Agent Statler insisted.

"Then state your business and be quick about it! Unless you wish to earn my wrath!" Sherry warned.

"Threatening a secret service agent is a federal offense." Agent Statler warned.

"I think very little of your federal government. I could crush it with the power contained in my little finger." Sherry countered.

"And yet you haven't, which means you're obviously willing to talk. Why don't you?" Agent Statler asked.

"The mercy bestowed upon your government is purely the boon of my husband. You would be wise to not disturb him, lest you earn his anger. And mine." Sherry warned.

"Very well, then you'll have to do. I have here a file that I would like you to read, please." Agent Statler said.

He opened his attaché case, and produced a manila folder. Sherry took it, and opened it.

"What you're looking at is the document that was signed, ordering the roundup of you... monster girls." Agent Statler started.

"Signed by your president Dugan, whom I punished for his crime." Sherry said flatly.

"He never signed that order. A representative, who shall not be named, forged the signature. We only caught them when they got greedy and tried to sign off on an infrastructure deal for their own state, which of course would have gone straight into his or her bank account." Agent Statler explained.

"What kind of government are you running?!" Sherry demanded.

"As I said, we locked him or her up for it. Now... I've come to you with an offer. If you get on national television and tell your monster girls that Dugan didn't sign the order, we'll sign a presidential pardon for Collins." Agent Statler explained.

Sherry remained silent, her eyes narrowed.

"He could go back to living a normal life, not on the FBI most wanted list. He could show his face in public again, without worrying someone will arrest him." Agent Statler said.

...

"We know he's still loyal. He turned in those hostile invaders that attacked your theater. They were from a country that hates the United States. He'd be a hero in the eyes of the nation if it came to light, and all you have to do is tell people what really happened." Agent Statler said.

...

"And what if I say no?" Sherry asked.

"Then nothing will change. Eventually we'll arrest him, and he'll answer for his crimes." Agent Statler said.

"He committed no crimes! This is unjust!" Sherry bellowed.

"Never the less, that's the way it is. Scratch our back, and we'll scratch yours. That's all we have to say. Think about it." Agent Statler said.

"Begone messenger dog, and never return." Sherry spat.

The agent took back the manila folder, tucked it into his attaché case, and strolled away.

...

..

Sherry went into the apartment to find Michael on the couch.

"Hey so what's going on?" Michael asked.

"Nothing sweetie, nothing at all. Want to go to the diner now?" Sherry asked.

"Sure I guess. But I'd like to clean up a bit before we go. So... let's take a shower." Michael said.

Sherry immediately formed a mischievous smile.

"I thought the day would never come~ You finally want to play in the shower~" Sherry purred.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

The Duster pulled up to the retro diner, and sputtered silent. Michael slid out of the driver seat, and rounded the car to open the door for Sherry. She was all done up, with her hair in waves cascading over her shoulders, a low slung blouse, elegant high heels, and a lovely white skirt. She was even wearing ear rings and a necklace. Michael was also well dressed and done up, with his hair styled neatly into a rather well done but simple businessman's haircut. He wore a nice pair of pants, polished shoes, and a cream colored jacket over a nice button up shirt. Neither of them were ready to go to a royal ball, but they were certainly very well dressed.

"Isn't this going a little far?" Michael asked.

"Of course not! I think you look handsome! And of course I already know you love my outfit~" Sherry cheered.

"Yeah I do, but this is just a burger joint. It's not like we're going to those nice buffets in Vegas." Michael said.

"I couldn't care less about those buffets. This place is far more valuable to me, because this is where we had our first date!" Sherry cheered.

They walked inside, arm in arm, into the warm and exciting atmosphere of that diner. As soon as they stepped through the door, the upbeat sound of "Little Bitty Pretty One" by Thurston Harris graced their ears. Michael hummed along as they found a booth to sit down at. A bouncy waitress swung by and took their order.

"I'll have a mushroom swiss with curly fries." Michael said.

"I'll have the same, but with onion rings." Sherry said.

Sherry smiled lovingly towards Michael.

"We can share~" Sherry said softly.

"Alright, I'll order that right up for you. If you need anything, wave me down." The bouncy waitress said cheerfully.

And with that, she took off for some tables that needed help. Sherry leaned her elbows on the table and propped up her head on her palms.

"Oh how I adore this place. Especially the music." Sherry said happily.

"We could play music at home if you want. There's no reason why we can't." Michael suggested.

"Then we shall. Maybe we could even get one of these devices you put coins in." Sherry said.

"The jukebox? Sure, if you really wanted. We could pick up an old one and restore it, that way we can give it personal touches." Michael said.

"I would pick one song that is our song, and have it be the very first song played on it." Sherry said.

"That's a great idea, we should totally do it." Michael said.

...

"What song would we pick though?" Sherry wondered.

"I don't know. I suppose we would think of something that represents us pretty well. Maybe our personalities, or something relevant about us." Michael said.

"What song do you think of when you think about ~us~?" Sherry asked.

Michael fell silent, the wheels turning in his head. He looked at the jukebox control on their table, flipping through the songs.

"I don't know. I'll think of something." Michael said.

He continued flipping through the songs.

"So... when are you going to tell me who it was?" Michael asked.

"Who what was?" Sherry asked.

He sighed and focused his intelligent brown eyes directly on her.

"The suit that was talking to you. I know you sent me inside because he was watching. I saw him there at least ten minutes before I finished working on the car." Michael said.

"Not much escapes you, does it?" Sherry asked.

"Nope. Can't afford to miss details. So, who was it?" Michael asked.

"He said he was with something called the Secret Service." Sherry said.

"Uh huh. They're the... well... how do I explain this? They're like those guards that always tag around with Druella. They're special guards, to protect the President." Michael explained.

"Like honor guards?" Sherry asked.

"Something like that, but that term has other connotations. It's highly unusual for a secret service agent to be running around like some sort of messenger boy. At least... I think so. I really don't know for sure." Michael said.

Right around then, the waitress showed up with some cokes. Michael thanked her, and she moved on to help other people.

"So what'd he want?" Michael asked.

"It wasn't anything important, perhaps we should talk about..." Sherry tried to say.

"Don't change the subject please." Michael said flatly.

"He... showed me a folder..." Sherry started.

She reluctantly relayed the story of her encounter to Michael. Even after their food had arrived, Michael ignored it until he got the whole story from her.

...

When she finished, he turned to his food without saying anything.

"Well?" Sherry asked.

"Well what? All I wanted was to be kept updated. That's all." Michael said.

"But what do you want me to do about it?" Sherry asked.

"Absolutely nothing at all. I don't want to talk to the media about Dugan." Michael said.

"So you're fine with being under threat of arrest?" Sherry asked.

"Of course not, but I won't be manipulated by a forked tongue politician." Michael said.

"Good. I'm proud of you sweetie. You are not beholding to that fool." Sherry said, nodding.

"Well I can say this though. If it weren't for you, Stavish, and everyone else watching my back... I might have thought twice about giving him the finger. So, thanks." Michael said.

...

..

He took several bites of his food, listening to the music as he did. It was playing 'Daydream Believer' by The Monkees.

"Sherry... I want to tell you something, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea." Michael started.

He took a drink of his coke.

"I don't want to toot my own horn, but... I'm a pretty bright guy. And what's more, I have a hell of an imagination. Sometimes my brain just wanders off onto a tangent, and I end up obsessing over every little detail for days at a time." Michael explained.

"It's because you have a wonderful mind sweetie." Sherry said.

"Yeah, but sometimes it's a bit of a... well... curse. I start thinking about how to solve a problem, or accomplish some goal, even if I would never ever do it in a million years. Ever. Do you understand?" Michael asked.

"Of course! A little fantasy never hurt anyone." Sherry said.

...

"You thought up something mischievous... didn't you?" Sherry asked quietly.

Michael glanced around to see if anyone was in easy earshot. Then he leaned forward.

"Well... I thought about you, demonic energy, and the inma." Michael whispered.

"So it is mischievous. Spill it." Sherry said.

"I could help you corrupt and take over the entire country within days... I can't believe I just said that." Michael blurted quietly.

...

..

Sherry blinked several times.

"THEN DO IT ALREADY!" Sherry exclaimed loudly.

Several people glanced their way, but didn't stare for long.

"End of subject. Not here." Michael said quietly.

...

..

.

The bouncy waitress came by and plopped down a chocolate milkshake between the two of them.

"Why you sneaky little devil. You only got one chocolate milkshake!" Sherry remarked, smiling.

"And two straws. Dig in~" Michael said, grinning.

So the two of them took a sip of their shared chocolate milkshake. Michael reached into his pocket, and pulled out a coin.

"Hey... so I thought up that song. I think it's perfect. Want to hear it?" Michael asked.

"Do I ever!" Sherry exclaimed excitedly.

So Michael leaned over and popped a coin into the music selector on the table, and selected one song. He heard the jukebox start making clacking and ratcheting noises from across the room, and then "Let's Live For Today" by The Grassroots started to play.

~When I think of all the worries
That people seem to find
And how they're in a hurry
To complicate their minds
By chasing after money
And dreams that can't come true
I'm glad that we are different
We've better things to do
May others plan their future
I'm busy loving you

One, two, three, four
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today (Hey, hey, hey)
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
And don't worry 'bout tomorrow, hey
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
Live for today

We were never meant to worry
The way that people do
And I don't need to hurry
As long as I'm with you
We'll take it nice and easy
And use my simple plan
You'll be my lovin' woman
I'll be your lovin' man
We'll take the most from living
Have pleasure while we can

Two, three, four
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today (Hey, hey, hey)
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
And don't worry 'bout tomorrow, hey
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
Live for today

Baby, I need to feel you inside of me
I got to feel you deep inside of me
Baby, please come close to me
I got to have you now, please
Please, please, please
Gimme some-a loving
Gimme some-a loving
To gimme some-a loving
To gimme some-a loving
Baby, gimme some-a loving
Gimme some-a loving
Got to have all your loving
Gimme some-a loving
I need all your loving
Give me some love
Now I need all your loving

Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today (Hey, hey, hey)
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
And don't worry 'bout tomorrow, hey
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today
Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today~

"Well? What did you think? I wanted a song that represented the dream... what I want for the both of us." Michael asked.

"That... was the perfect song for us. I couldn't agree more. Let's live for today~" Sherry said, smiling.

"Yep! No stress, no damn politicians, no fighting... just a chocolate milkshake." Michael said, smiling.

He leaned in and took a sip. Sherry hesitated, her eyes down turning.

...

"He's trying desperately to get away from that conversation we just had. Poor sweetie." Sherry thought.

...

"Very well. I can accommodate him. But one of these days, he will have no choice but to tell me his secrets." Sherry thought.

She lifted her foot up from under the booth, and began slowly stroking the inside of Michael's leg.

"I was wondering how long it would take before you started doing that." Michael noted casually.

"Aww, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." Sherry cooed.

Michael started drinking the chocolate milkshake faster. Before long, he was sucking on the last dredges at the bottom of the cup.

"Let's pay and scram." Michael suggested.

"What a wonderful idea. I can't wait until we get... ~home~" Sherry said huskily.

Shortly later, they wound up back at the apartment. As soon as the front door shut behind them, they couldn't rip each other's clothes off fast enough. Michael spoke between hot kisses.

"I don't think I can wait any longer. Wound or no wound, let's do it." Michael panted.

"I think you'll be fine. I sense it, you've recovered enough. Let's take this to the bedroom." Sherry panted.

...

..

.

~The Next Day~

.

..

...

*Knockknockknock

*Creeeeak

"Hello? Mike? Your door was unlocked. Anyone home?" Alistair called.

He took a few steps inside the apartment, just as a very naked Sherry appeared at the corner of the hallway. She leaned against the wall, a salacious smile on her face.

"Oh crap!" Alistair exclaimed, whirling around.

Sherry chuckled and slowly pranced over to where Alistair was standing. He was blubbering out apologies for coming in without being invited, for seeing her naked, and for being the worst person in the world, and a half dozen other things. All she did to answer his unending stream of apologies was to drape her arms over his shoulders.

"Now now Sir Grey, you really mustn't let such trivial things bother you." Sherry said softly.

"You're a married woman!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Of course I am. Now you wouldn't try to take me away from my sweetie, would you?" Sherry asked.

"Never!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Then who cares if you see me naked... unless it just drives you so wild that you charge right back home and do some ~aggressive~ things to those sweet girls I gave you." Sherry said seductively.

"Sherry, quit tormenting the man. He's just going to keep saying sorry. He's Canadian." Michael said dryly.

"That's a stereotype, but it happens to be true." Alistair said.

...

So after kicking Sherry out of the living room so she could get dressed, Michael and Alistair crashed onto the chair and couch.

"Okay Mike, tell me all about it." Alistair said excitedly.

"Alright. It was a fantastic hamburger, with savory mushrooms and juicy beef..." Michael started.

"No no no! Not your dinner! Lescatie! Tell me about Lescatie!" Alistair exclaimed.

"I was just joking. What do you want to know?" Michael asked.

Sherry appeared in the hallway, wearing a curve hugging dress.

"I heard someone say Lescatie. It's my second favorite subject other than sex!" Sherry cheered.

"Maple man wants to know about it. So..." Michael said.

"Is it true everyone sounds French?" Alistair asked.

"What's a French? Like the food?" Sherry asked.

"Hold on, I can answer this one. The answer is no. Not everyone sounds French. I would say about half the people I ran into sounded French. The rest of them all came from outside the city, so they sound like wherever they came from. Druella certainly doesn't sound French." Michael said.

"You met Druella!?" Alistair asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah. We're real swell buddies now." Michael said, smiling.

"Sweetie calls her cupcake." Sherry interjected.

"...cupcake? Really?" Alistair asked dryly.

"Well she was acting like a serious cupcake when I first met her! The woman damn near got herself killed, and her city conquered!" Michael exclaimed.

Sherry stiffened, a frown forming on her face.

"Bloody hell. It was that bad?" Alistair asked.

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, she's a wonderful leader, but she's no strategist. She's pretty useless in a fight." Michael said.

"HOW DARE YOU! SHOW MORE RESPECT FOR THE MISTRESS!" Sherry boomed.

Michael and Alistair both flinched at her loud voice.

"Sherry calm down! I don't hate her or anything, I'm just re telling what I saw." Michael exclaimed, surprised.

"She's PERFECT in every way! If not for HER, Lescatie would NEVER have fallen!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Wilmarina captured Lescatie, not Druella." Alistair said.

"That's right. Even then she left the job to someone who knew it better than her. That makes her a good leader. But she's still a horrible strategist." Michael said.

"I... cannot refute these words. But this is still WRONG somehow!" Sherry muttered, frustrated.

...

..

"Now then. Alistair... want to ask another one? That sort of went off on a tangent." Michael said.

"Okay. What are the laws like?" Alistair asked.

"We have laws and rules just the same as any civilized nation state. I'm not sure how to answer that." Sherry said.

"Al... pick a law we have, and let's compare." Michael said.

"Public nudity." Alistair said instantly, his eyes glinting knowingly.

"Well Sherry? What happens if someone strolls down the street buck naked?" Michael asked.

"It depends. If it were a woman, probably nothing. If it were a man... he'd be taken as a husband within seconds." Sherry said.

"Seconds huh? That's bloody quick." Alistair noted.

"I'm going to have to agree with her. From what I saw of the city, there's pretty much eyes in every doorway. They'll see you and grab you in seconds... so keep your fly shut." Michael said.

"Noted." Alistair said.

"Now I'll ask one. What about murder?" Michael asked.

"Murder is still a major crime, no matter where you go. But it's not as serious in the demon realms. A necromancer will bring back the victim, and you will be obligated to pay the reincarnation fee. Furthermore, you'll likely be locked up until we figure out why you murdered that person." Sherry explained.

"Okay, let's add to that then. Let's say the perp is a murdering psychopath serial killer." Alistair said.

"I don't honestly know. We've never had one of those before. Murder is VERY rare in the demon realms, and it's nearly all perpetrated by the Order." Sherry said.

"Really?" Michael asked.

"Well... sometimes accidents happen. I knew a girl once, a minotaur. She was as sweet as a peach, and hadn't hurt anyone in her life. And she had this young man as her husband. People often thought that surely such a large woman would hurt that young man, he was just about half her size." Sherry recalled.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"They found the husband dead in their home. He had been crushed by something very large and heavy. Immediately all eyes turned to that poor minotaur, and she was locked away. It turns out that she had been moving a full barrel of ale, and accidentally slipped and dropped it right on him. Seeing her husband die like that made her panic and run away." Sherry recounted.

"That doesn't seem very smart, with necromancers and whatnot." Alistair said.

"True, but she didn't understand such things. She was truly an innocent girl in a huge body. So they brought the husband back to life, and that was the end of the matter. She ended up with a warning to be more careful next time." Sherry recounted.

"That doesn't seem so bad. I guess it worked out in the end." Michael said.

"Indeed, it did. For the most part at least. That poor girl was traumatized by what happened for a very long time afterwards. She became very obsessive, and would corral her husband in one corner of the room every time she was moving something heavy or large." Sherry added.

...

"So, do either of you have another one for me?" Sherry asked.

Michael and Alistair glanced at each other, and winked knowingly.

"That one is obvious." Michael said.

"Yeah. It has to do with sex, so of course it's legal." Alistair said.

"So we shouldn't bother asking." Michael said.

"Nah." Alistair said.

...

"What are you two talking about?" Sherry asked.

"Rape." Michael said.

...

..

"It depends. If someone rapes someone that's married, there would be problems. But otherwise, it's pretty much ignored." Sherry said.

"It sounds messed up, but we are talking about monster girls here." Alistair said.

..

...

"It seems like someone could get away with just about anything in Lescatie with minimal punishment." Alistair said.

"I don't know about that..." Sherry said.

"What if we robbed a store?" Alistair asked.

"You would likely spend time in the punishment pit, and then be told to pay the store back." Sherry said.

Alistair sent a questioning glance towards Michael.

"The punishment pit is sort of like the inma equivalent to the Pit of Sarlacc, except you don't die. It's got a tentacle plant in it." Michael explained.

"Ah, I get it." Alistair said.

"What if you don't have money to pay the fine? What then?" Michael asked.

"Hmm... I suppose that would mean you're poor and desperate, right? You should probably just ask the store keeper for help. They'll probably just give you something to eat, or maybe even a job." Sherry mused.

Sherry's eyes turned dark.

"On the other hand, it is very illegal for a man to be homeless in the demon realms. If you're that desperate, the town guards or dark knights will soon come to take you away." Sherry said.

"WHAT?! THAT'S FRACKING BULLSHIT!" Michael exclaimed angrily.

"But it's a good law! Nobody has to be miserable or cold!" Sherry argued.

"I hate that law! That's the worst one so far! It's one thing for people to be punished if they do something bad, but being homeless isn't necessarily anyone's fault! I call bullshit!" Michael exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Mike, but I have to agree with Searraigh on this one. If a homeless person can be taken care of..." Alistair trailed off.

"Well I prefer freedom and independence over all else, even if it does create a little temporary pain and misery! Freedom isn't free!" Michael insisted.

"But you would be free! The dark knights would just take you somewhere where someone would take care of you. What's so bad about that?" Sherry asked.

"Let's say that happened. Let's say I found myself sleeping in an alley back at Lescatie. And let's say the dark knights showed up to enforce that law. What if I didn't want to go with them?" Michael asked.

"They would ask you why. You would have to give a good reason why you wanted to stay in that alley." Sherry said.

"Maybe I don't have a reason, I just don't want to go with them. Maybe I don't trust them, or maybe they're intimidating. Maybe I want to keep my reasons private." Michael said.

"Then they will argue with you, and push you, and practically plead with you to go with them. I've seen it before. They'll do everything in their power to convince you to go with them. Eventually if you keep refusing, they'll make you sign a contract stating that you have a home and you understand that you can't be sleeping in the open." Sherry explained.

"What's the point of that?" Alistair asked.

"Well... it's a devilish contract. If you sign it, you must honor the contract. Even if you lie and don't have a home, the contract will make you walk towards the dark knight's guard tower and turn yourself in. One way or another you'll have a home, and you won't be sleeping in the open." Sherry explained.

"I would refuse to sign. Then what?" Michael asked.

"I suppose one of the dark knights would probably stay with you and keep arguing and pleading. But only during peace time. If the Order attacks, the dark knights will probably take the man and throw him in the guard tower until they can deal with the Order." Sherry said.

"In that case, that man is being arrested for no good reason. I am absolutely against this law." Michael said firmly.

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way. I think it is a good law, and all inma agree. Men are too valuable to be left outside in the cold." Sherry insisted.

"Damn nosy good for nothing jerks. I hate people like that. They were always pestering me when I was sleeping in the Duster. Damn coppers... and social workers... and politicians... screw them all." Michael spat angrily.

"You were homeless?!" Alistair asked.

"Yeah. Remember a while back when I stopped playing games with everyone? You all kept asking why, and I wouldn't say?" Michael recalled.

Recollection crossed Alistair's face. He nodded, and looked away.

"Sorry mate. I had no idea. I... I might have sent you a little cash if I'd known." Alistair said softly.

"And that right there is why I never told anyone." Michael said.

"What sense does that make? With my law, you don't have to be miserable! You can be warm, and well fed, and have free sex! How can you say no to that?" Sherry asked.

"Easy. I move my mouth, and the word NO comes out." Michael said dryly.

"I'll have to side with Searraigh on this one still. You're being bloody stubborn." Alistair said.

"Well... if I'm ever become homeless in the future, I'll make sure I go far away from the demon realms as possible." Michael said.

Sherry frowned.

"Unpossible. Just as soon as I learn whatever knowledge you possess, I intend to turn this entire country into a demon realm. There will be nowhere to go." Sherry said.

Alistair straightened and gave Michael a shocked look.

"You know something that could turn the whole flaming country into a demon realm?" Alistair asked.

"Of course I do. And you should too. Use your brain maple man. Think... about... it." Michael said.

...

"I don't understand." Sherry said, confused.

"He's just as obsessive compulsive as I am. Maybe more." Michael said.

Alistair's eyebrows were furrowed. He glanced towards Michael, and then Sherry, and then Michael again.

"Yeah... I think I know what you're talking about." Alistair said.

...

"Actually... it would be silly easy to corrupt the entire bloody western world." Alistair added.

"Tell me sir Grey! Please!" Sherry pleaded.

Alistair looked at Michael and Michael looked at Alistair.

"Should we?" Michael asked.

"The world is going to get corrupted anyways. We might as well make it quick." Alistair said.

"Then... what's your idea?" Michael asked.

...

..

"I... would start with the media. Corrupt them, and you control everything everyone sees and hears." Alistair said slowly.

"Yeah and what next?" Michael asked, grinning ferociously.

"The... government. Corrupt the officials. Then they pass laws that help the spread." Alistair said hesitantly.

"The judicial, executive, and legislative branches. All of it. Corrupt everyone. And if they get removed, corrupt whoever comes after them. Send the demonic energy straight down the line from the top of the food chain." Michael said.

"And they can't stop it. Searraigh can teleport at will. No matter how much security you put on someone, you can always get them while they're sleeping." Alistair said.

"Meanwhile, nobody knows this is happening unless they're involved directly. Because we control the media." Sherry reasoned.

She clenched her fist, the look of determination on her face.

"But will it work?!" Sherry asked fiercely.

"Yeah. It would work. It used to be that money and power made the world go 'round. Now... with demonic energy... everything's changed." Michael said.

...

"But your law still sucks ass." Michael added.

"Oh for goodness sake! Let it go! We have far more important things to do!" Sherry exclaimed.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry teleported away before Michael could argue further. Michael and Alistair looked at each other with wide eyes... and then both rushed to the TV.

*CLICK

*BZZZRRRRNNNNGGG!

The TV came to life, and the picture faded in. Michael clicked through the channels until he found one that was one of the national news stations.

"These were the same wankers who said all those lies about you." Alistair noted.

"Shh. Just watch." Michael said.

It seemed as if everything was normal. Around a half hour passed, before Alistair pointed at the screen. There was a lady giving the weather report.

"Did you see that? On the radar map." Alistair said.

Michael watched closely. It seemed as if someone was fiddling with the map as the lady was talking. Suddenly, new black spots on the map. Then they realized the woman had stopped talking.

"Whoa..." The two men said.

The woman was turning into a succubus before their very eyes, right on national television. Horns popped out of her head, and bat wings popped out of the small of her back. Suddenly she turned and focused her eyes on something off screen. It was the teleprompter.

"And in other weather news, some good tidings on the horizon. We have a lovely demonic energy front moving along the rocky mountains, heading north. Over in the east, we have a demonic energy storm brewing directly over Washington DC. Better make sure you feed your hubbies plenty of food for dinner! They'll need their stamina~" The weather lady said seductively.

*CLICK

Michael changed the channel to another news source.

"And later at twelve, an interview with doctor Candy Mounds on the health benefits of demonic energy..."

*CLICK

"I can assure you, the monster girls are nothing to fear. They're just ordinary people, who want to live happy and fulfilling lives."

"Um, thank you Dr. Bron. But... I thought this interview was about a new species of algae that you discovered?"

"Bloody hell she's moving fast." Alistair remarked.

"Yeah. I don't know how she does that. I guess when she gets all fired up about something..." Michael trailed off.

*CLICK

"And of course we cannot deny the therapeutic benefits of sleeping face first in a woman's breasts."

"I would argue that a fluffy tail provides better sleep than a pair of boring old boobs."

"Ladies! Ladies! Please, we're supposed to be talking about memory foam pillows!"

"Screw those things. C'mon boys, you've got all the comfort and support you need right here in these two babies~"

"Or my tail! Look how soft and floofy it is~"

"Oh my god I'm in heaven!" Alistair exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

He turned and started shaking Michael back and forth.

"Your wife is bloody wonderful! WOO HOO! Go Searraigh! Go Searraigh! Mofu mofu heaven! Touch fluffy tail! YAAAAAH!" Alistair cheered.

"I'd prefer the big tits personally." Michael said.

"You're just uncultured." Alistair argued.

...

"Why aren't you getting all excited about this!?" Alistair asked.

"I'm excited inside." Michael said evenly.

Alistair scoffed and waved a hand dismissively at Michael.

"You're no fun." Alistair muttered.

...

Later, after an hour had passed since Sherry had left. Michael and Alistair were clicking through the channels.

"Breaking news! Live from the streets of Washington D.C., our agent in the field."

Michael and Alistair sat upright and stared at the TV.

"IT'S ABSOLUTE CHAOS OUT HERE! THE DEMONIC ENERGY STORM LANDED A FEW MINUTES AGO, AND PEOPLE ARE BEGINNING TO PANIC! AS YOU CAN SEE BEHIND ME, WE HAVE SOLID CLOUDS OF BLACK FOG BLOCKING EVERYTHING DOWN TO STREET LEVEL! IT'S VERY DIFFICULT TO BREATHE THE THICK AIR!"

"Boy, he has to shout over the gale." Michael noted.

"Hey look! There's someone sneaking up behind him!" Alistair pointed out.

"Is that...a werecat?" Michael asked.

"I can't tell. It's too bloody dark." Alistair said.

*MEOW!

*THUD!

The reporter dude got taken out from behind, and the camera person panned down briefly before realizing that he or she should probably not show what was happening on live television.

"It's happening man. Finally! The world's gonna be saved!" Alistair cheered.

"Yeah. Saved." Michael said.

"And it's all because of you Mike. If it weren't for you bringing Searraigh here, we'd be tits up for sure!" Alistair said enthusiastically.

"Probably." Michael said quietly.

He took the remote and lowered the volume until it was minor background noise.

"Mike... what's got you cheesed off?" Alistair asked.

"I... don't know. It's just... something's nagging at me, and I can't put my finger on it. I want to see the world become a better place. Of course I do! But why do I get the feeling that I don't quite trust Sherry?" Michael asked.

"She's a lovely lady. I've not seen a thing that she's done that could be considered dodgy. Maybe you're just a little too cautious." Alistair suggested.

"Maybe that's it. Like that law of hers... I can't think of a real reason why I hate it. I just hate it." Michael said.

"But it's monster girls Mike. Succubii and Lamia and Mermaids. Just think of all the monster girls." Alistair argued.

Michael smiled radiantly.

"Yeah. It is nice." Michael admitted.

...

..

.

"I... want to go to Lescatie. Please." Alistair said.

"You shouldn't ask permission for that." Michael said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask for too much. It's your theater." Alistair said.

"That's not what I meant. I meant... you shouldn't have to ask permission. You should be able to go wherever you want to go, whenever you want." Michael said.

"Oh, I get it. Thanks for that." Alistair said, half smiling.

There was an extended moment of silence.

"Al... you don't know what it's like on the other side." Michael said hesitantly.

"Then why don't you tell me?" Alistair asked instantly.

Michael sighed.

"What do you think of when you imagine what it should look like?" Michael asked.

"I imagine it's a fantasy world, with great castles and magical forests... and lots of monster girls." Alistair said.

"Sure, and it is. It's everything you could have dreamed of and more. It's like the second coming of Middle Earth, Narnia, and Hyrule all mixed in one. I even saw a floating sky island on the way home that I want to check out." Michael explained.

Alistair's eyes lit up.

"Then let's go already! What are we waiting for!?" Alistair exclaimed.

"Whoa whoa whoa there Pinocchio! Hold on a minute before you go running towards Pleasure Island! It's not safe!" Michael exclaimed.

.

..

"... the Order?" Alistair asked quietly.

"Yeah. You have no idea what I went through the last time I stepped through that portal." Michael said.

"Fine then, I'll just borrow one of your rifles so I can protect myself! If you're willing to go, then I am too! I'll make those bloody wankers regret ever messing with my monster girls!" Alistair exclaimed.

Michael remained silent.

"Well?" Alistair asked.

"Al... it's illegal to give a firearm to a non immigrant alien. That's a major felony." Michael said reluctantly.

"Are you kidding mate?" Alistair said.

He turned and raised the volume on the TV.

"...absolute bedlam in the house and senate! People are turning into monsters left and right..."

"You'll send her out to turn the planet into one big roman orgy, but you won't loan me a rifle?" Alistair asked.

"Urk... don't make me feel worse about it than I already do." Michael murmured, pained.

"I want to go to Lescatie. Armed or not. Just let me go. Please!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Like I said, I'm not going to stop you one way or another. You're a free man. But I can't guarantee you'll be safe if you go. I can't guarantee I'll be safe!" Michael said.

...

"You would think that being in the middle of nowhere, nobody would care if someone like me were armed." Alistair grumbled.

...

..

.

*DING!

The light bulb went off in Michael's head.

"I just had a blinding flash of the obvious. Al?" Michael said.

"Yeah?" Alistair asked.

"The U.S. Government says that a non immigrant alien can't be given a firearm. Buuuuut... they have no say over what happens once you set foot through that portal. Because you wouldn't be in the United States anymore." Michael said, grinning.

"RIGHT! BLOODY HELL!" Alistair exclaimed excitedly.

"Al... I'm going to DROWN you in firearms! Go pack your bags. You're going to Lescatie!" Michael cheered.

"Right-o! I'll give Dez a call, and she can come pick me up. Give me a telly when you're ready to push off." Alistair said.

"Sure. No problem." Michael said.

...

..

*POP

The two men looked towards the front window, which had just made a strange sound.

"What was that?" Michael wondered.

They both got up and went to check on the front door and window. Michael checked the door, and Alistair checked the window.

"Hmm... it's locked. Anything on your end?" Michael asked.

Alistair drew the curtain aside, and looked outside. Or at least... tried to.

"Um... Mike? You'd better take a look at this." Alistair said.

"Holy Hannah! It's a solid wall of demonic energy! I can't even see the stairs!" Michael exclaimed.

*Creeeeeeeeak

The window made some rather uncomfortable sounds, and the two men backed away.

"It's not going to implode... is it?" Alistair asked.

"Sherry put a ton of wards all over the apartment. They tried blowing holes through the door and it shrugged it off." Michael said.

"So it's not going to implode... is it?" Alistair repeated.

"The glass might break, but I don't think the cloud will come inside." Michael said.

*Creeeeeeak

*Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak

*POW!

The window frame completely broke off and separated from the wall, and a black tar colored fog crept inside.

"Okay nevermind, forget I said anything." Michael said.

"Now what? What's that stuff going to do to us?" Alistair asked.

"It'll get really hard to breathe, but I think we'll be okay. It's inma mana after all. They're not supposed to kill people." Michael reasoned.

It started creeping along the floor, heading for their ankles.

"You know... maybe this would be a good time for testing." Michael said.

"Testing? What testing?" Alistair asked.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

"Why do you own a gas mask?" Alistair asked.

"Because I'm a nutcase and I'm paranoid AF. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Michael said, muffled.

He was wearing an old Belgian BEM-4GP gas mask that he had picked up at a surplus store years before. Laying on the floor, he pushed his face into the ever growing black fog in the apartment.

*Wheeeeze

He pulled away and coughed. The he ripped the mask off and gulped down clean air.

"Did it go right through?!" Alistair asked, shocked.

"No, *coughcough... but it plugged the filter instantly. It was like trying to breathe in a plastic bag." Michael said, coughing.

"Are you sure the filter wasn't just already plugged?" Alistair asked.

"Well... I suppose I could try a brand new one. I was wearing it while painting last time. Maybe it's just too much." Michael reasoned.

So he threaded on a brand new filter, and leaned down into the fog with the mask again.

"MMMMMM!" Michael cried, muffled.

"Mike?!" Alistair cried.

He sat up and ripped the mask off again, and coughed. Black fog coughed out of his mouth like a smoker blows smoke.

"That time it really DID go right through!" Michael exclaimed.

"Whoa! So there really is no way to stop this stuff!" Alistair exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I guess not. That's not good. If we're going to keep living here, we need to figure out how to live in the world we've created." Michael said.

"Hey uh... what's the fog doing?" Alistair asked suddenly.

Michael looked down. At that point, he was on his knees in the fog. But he saw the fog was welling up around him, and fingers of it started creeping up his legs like little snakes.

"Is this stuff... alive?" Michael wondered aloud.

He held his hand close to it, and it coiled around his fingers.

"It's the condensed mana of millions of monster girls. Maybe it acts like they would act." Alistair mused.

"You mean boyfriend hunting?" Michael asked

"Probably. It seems drawn to us, and that's the only thing that makes sense." Alistair said.

Michael stood up and backed away. The tendrils of demonic energy snapped and wiggled through the air a little bit before retreating back into the ever growing bank of fog in the apartment.

*Knockknockknock

The two men jerked in surprise when someone knocked on the door.

"I didn't even see someone pass the window! It's that thick!" Michael exclaimed.

"Shouldn't we answer?" Alistair asked.

"If we do, the whole place will fill with demonic energy." Michael said.

*Click creeeeak

"I thought the door was locked?!" Alistair cried.

"It was! WAIT DON'T OPEN THAT!" Michael cried.

*Whooooooooosh

Desdemona stepped inside and casually closed the door behind her.

"Hey you two. What a nice day today! What're you doing cooped up in here?" Desdemona asked kindly.

"You think that FOG is nice?!" The two men exclaimed.

"Oh don't be a bunch of babies! C'mon Al, I'll buy you some ice cream on the way home~" Desdemona said cheerfully.

She grabbed Alistair's arm and dragged him out.

"Maple man!" Michael cried.

*THUD

And that was it. Desdemona dragged him outside into the fog, and shut the door behind her.

...

~One Hour Later~

...

*Cough

...

*Coughcough

"Damn... it's hard to breathe this stuff." Michael thought.

The entire apartment had been filled to the brim with thick clouds of demonic energy. Michael sat on his old faithful chair, just trying to breathe and get used to the fog. Ever since the fog had filled the room, his vision had been graced with the sight of an entirely alien world. It reminded him of A Link to the Past, with the light and dark world mechanic. Everything was the same in the apartment, but it had a dark and twisted look to it. It was as if someone with a messed up head had tried to copy the world from memory, and not quite got it right. Or maybe it was his eyes playing tricks on him. And on top of it all, his body felt unnaturally hot, as if he were coming down with a fever.

"That's what this is. A fever dream. An inma induced... perverted... fever dream." Michael thought.

...

"It sure makes it hit home just how alien the inma really are." Michael thought.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry appeared in a flash of crimson, disturbing the thick air all around her in a shockwave. In the warped perception of the demonic energy fog, her body seemed even more beautiful and sultry than normal.

"Sure enough, I was just thinking of her. And here she is." Michael thought.

"Hello sweetie! I have returned!" Sherry said cheerfully.

"Woo..." Michael said tiredly, waving his hand.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling well?" Sherry asked.

She sat in his lap and gave him a kiss. His body immediately lit on fire, just from one little succubus kiss.

"Oh I get it. I thought the air in here was unusually nice. I was teleporting all over the country and using tons of mana, so a bunch pooled up here in my seat of power. Poor thing, you must be struggling." Sherry reasoned.

She leaned in and gently blew a hot breath across his face.

"The fog will fade sweetie. I promise. Just try to bear it for a while. I can use my magic to help, but your human body can only tolerate so much mana floating around in the air." Sherry said.

"Anything you can do to help..." Michael pleaded.

So Sherry placed her hand against his chest, and cast a spell. He took a deep gulping breath, and sank into the chair.

"Oh... that's better." Michael sighed.

"I'm glad. Now... you should know that there are drawbacks to this kind of magic." Sherry warned.

"Like what?" Michael asked.

"The demonic energy hasn't gone away, I've just made it where it passes straight through your lungs and into your blood. You're going to have all sorts of demonic energy induced effects soon, and they'll get stronger every breath you take." Sherry explained.

Just as Sherry said, the demonic energy was working its way into his body through his circulatory system. When the demonic energy was on the outside of his body, it crawled around his legs and coiled around his fingers. While it was inside his body, it crawled around his organs and coiled around each individual cell. It went up the arteries in his neck and entered his head, and passed through the blood brain barrier. It went through the blood vessels in his eyes and corrupted his vision, entered his muscles and nerves, and started firing off new impulses to his contaminated brain. While all that was happening, the demonic energy was whispering suggestions to Michael. It wanted him to attack Sherry, pin her down to the floor, rip her clothes off, and pound her senseless. More and more of his body was being corrupted into wanting to fuck Sherry into a gibbering mess. And she knew it too.

"Do you want this sweetie?" Sherry asked, waggling her rump in his direction.

*GRAB

*Pomf~

"Oh sweetie, you beast~" Sherry said lovingly.

...

~Several Hours Later~

...

Michael came to his senses abruptly, finding himself in the bedroom of the apartment. He found himself pressing Sherry against the wall, hand around her slender neck, and balls deep inside her.

"Wha... what the heck?" Michael coughed.

"Aww, did you wear out already? I was having so much fun~" Sherry purred.

He yanked his hand away from her neck.

"Did I hurt you?!" Michael asked, shocked.

"Of course not sweetie. I love the rough stuff. I can take it." Sherry reassured.

"Oh...okay..." Michael said, uncertain.

"You really were a beast sweetie! We did it in the living room, in the kitchen, in the hallway, in the bathroom... we did it everywhere!" Sherry cheered.

"My brain is a little fuzzy... I can't remember." Michael said.

"Well that's no good! I want you to feel good too!" Sherry insisted.

She pushed him towards the bed, and they landed together in a tangle of arms. Her lips pressed against his, and she forcefully kissed him.

"Pwah~... I know you can handle the rough stuff too, so I'm not going to hold back~" Sherry purred.

*GASP!

Michael's head arched back as Sherry assaulted his body.

"I'm going to etch the memory of this day permanently in your mind, so you never forget how we spent our time together." Sherry said seductively.

*SMACK

Michael smacked her soft ass. She yelped, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth sensually.

"That all you got? What kind of a succubus are you? Bring it!" Michael cheered.

"Okay, here I go!" Sherry cried.

...

..

.

~A Little While Later~

.

..

...

The Duster pulled up to the theater, and drove inside through a large set of rolling doors. Pulling past groups of people coming and going, they parked it near the portal itself. Alistair walked up, carrying a duffle bag.

"Here I am Mike!" Alistair said cheerfully.

...

"Why are you walking like a crab?" Alistair asked.

"Don't ask." Michael said dryly.

Sherry followed him out of the car, wearing a smug smile on her face.

...

"Looks like the maid-san is coming along." Michael quipped.

"You bet I'm coming along, and I'm not taking no for an answer." Crimson said.

"There was a big fight over who got to come with me. Crimson won." Alistair explained, chuckling.

"Someone has to make sure he eats properly, or he'll just eat junk the whole time he's gone." Crimson said.

Michael chuckled.

"So I take it she hasn't been feeding your ramen addiction, huh?" Michael asked.

"No, and it's bloody awful!" Alistair complained.

"It's just CARBS! You need more than that master!" Crimson protested.

"I'm a gamer, we only eat carbs!" Alistair protested.

Michael chuckled and let the duo bicker a little as he turned towards the portal. A line of vehicles were moving in an orderly fashion through the portal. He also noticed a single person on foot come back through from the other side. A danuki wearing a pack four times her size, and leading a pack mule by some sort of thin rope. With the sound of Alistair's bickering fading into the distance behind him, he watched in fascination as that danuki marched right up to some of the soldiers so she could start hawking her wares.

"Hello ladies, would you like to try the newest spices from the Mist continent?" The danuki trader asked.

"No thank you, we're a little busy." The soldiers said.

So the danuki, undeterred, continued on trying to barter with the people around the theater room. Michael walked up to her, and she smiled.

"Good day sir, would you be interested in seeing my wares?" The danuki trader asked.

"Sure, but I wanted to talk about something else first." Michael said.

"Oh? And what might that be?" The danuki trader asked, grinning devilishly.

"Well, you're the first trader to come here from the other world. I thought that maybe you'd like to set up a permanent shop." Michael said.

"Hmm... I don't know about that. I'd have to see how large your village is first." The danuki trader said.

"Well, I'm not sure how large this town is, but there's around seven million people in the state of Arizona. You'd be the first person they'd all trade with." Michael explained.

The danuki trader turned her head and made a strange combination wheeze/cough/sneeze sound. When she turned around again, her hand was on her own forehead.

"Aye that's a few people alright. Where were you thinking I could set up shop?" The danuki trader asked.

...

..

Michael lead the danuki trader to where the concession area used to be for the theater. There was a storage room behind it, running water, an employee bathroom and break room, and plenty of counter space to put items. There was even a little kitchenette that had originally been used to make food back in the day. It all just needed a good dusting and minor repair, which anyone could handle easily.

"It's all yours, if you want to use it. Nobody else is." Michael said.

"Name yer price!" The danuki trader exclaimed.

Michael looked left, and he looked right. He looked around nervously, not wanting anyone to know about his little... addiction.

"No rent. I want you to keep... prisoner fruits... stocked at all times. I need a constant supply of prisoner fruits." Michael whispered.

The danuki trader's devilish grin grew even wider.

"Aye, you had the look about you. Deal." The danuki trader said.

They shook hands. The danuki trader placed her pack on the ground, and produced a cloth bag full of prisoner fruits.

"Consider this your first payment... partner." The danuki trader said, grinning.

...

..

.

Shortly later, Michael wandered back into the portal room. Alistair and Crimson were still going at it, and Sherry was nowhere to be found.

"Hmm... where'd Sherry go?" Michael murmured.

*Taptaptap

Michael jumped when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Whirling around, he found Sherry standing right behind him.

"Hey uh... what's up?" Michael asked.

"Nothing much, I was just thinking about prisoner fruits." Sherry said knowingly.

"GUH!" Michael coughed.

*SNAG

She snatched the bag out of his hands and peeked inside.

"If you think I'm going to let you out of my sight for even a moment, you're sorely mistaken. I rendered myself unseeable." Sherry explained.

"Sneaky little bugger." Michael grumbled.

Sherry snuck her hand inside the bag and pulled out a prisoner fruit.

"These are some plump ones. I bet they taste divine." Sherry said.

*nom

Her lewd mouth bit into the fruit, and caused a stream of juice to run down her chin and drip straight into her ample cleavage.

"Mmmmmm... so good..." Sherry hummed.

She glanced at Michael, who was giving her a look not dissimilar to a kid watching someone eat their candy.

"Would you like to try it?" Sherry asked, eyes glinting mischievously.

Michael nodded up and down.

"Okay~" Sherry said.

*nom

*SMOOCH!

She took a bite and forcefully mashed her lips against his. Before he knew it, a lewd prisoner fruit flavored tongue was swirling around in his mouth. People all around pulled out their phones and started snapping pictures. Including Alistair and Crimson. Sherry had her arms around his head, he had his hands on her ass and hips, and one of her legs were in the air. It was quite the lewd pose.

"I'm so putting this on the internet." Alistair muttered.

...

..

Sherry pulled away, a strand of saliva linking their mouths.

"It's time to go through the portal sweetie." Sherry said breathily.

"Alright." Michael breathed.

"Hey you two loverbirds, let's go to Lescatie!" Alistair exclaimed excitedly.

..

.

A few moments later, the four of them stepped through the portal. Alistair immediately dropped to his knees, and let out a loud whoop.

"WOOOOOOT!" Alistair cried.

...

"Is Sir Grey well?" Sherry questioned.

"He's fine. He's just really happy." Michael said.

Alistair turned and started pawing at the ground.

"Now what is he doing?" Sherry questioned.

"Um... Al? What ARE you doing?" Michael asked.

"That Saving Private Ryan thing!" Alistair exclaimed.

He produced a little container out of his pocket, and started scooping soil into it.

"Oh~ I get it~" Michael chuckled.

"I'm going to take samples of EVERYTHING I can get my hands on! You don't know, it could be the next miracle medicine that cures cancer! I'll be bloody rich, and living in a posh flat!" Alistair exclaimed.

"But you're already rich." Sherry mouthed.

"And you'll be able to afford all the new anime memorabilia when it comes out." Michael noted.

"Ex...actly!" Alistair exclaimed.

He squeezed the container shut, and staggered to his feet

"So Mike, did you ever sort that whole firearm situation?" Alistair asked.

Michael nodded.

"Sure, I did. But let's do a tour first." Michael said.

*SNATCH

He snatched his bag of fruits away from Sherry, and started giving Alistair the dime tour while chomping on those devilish fruits.

...

The first place that Michael took Alistair was to a newly erected qunoset hut near the middle of camp. There was a sign standing in front of it.

"Parking For Old Clapped-Out Mopars Only" Alistair read aloud.

"I didn't put that there. Someone's got a funny sense of humor." Michael said.

"What does clapped out mean?" Sherry asked.

"Worn out. Beat up. Used up. That sort of thing." Michael explained.

Walking past the sign, they stepped through the door to the hut.

"Over there is a little side office which serves as our radio station. I set up an HF radio in there, so we could have worldwide communication. Once I put a radio in Lescatie, this radio will be monitored around the clock." Michael explained.

He pointed off in another direction.

"And over there is a little bedroom and living area, just in case Sherry and I need to crash while we're here. It's also a nice little storage area if some of my stuff or her stuff gets transported back and forth without us being here." Michael explained.

"Nice!" Alistair remarked.

They exited the rather sparse and simplistic living quarters. Moving on, they entered the only other permanent building that had been constructed at that point.

"And this is the armory." Michael said.

Michael let Alistair slowly survey the room. It was a large quonset hut with a roll up door on one end and a regular household door on the other. They had walked in the normal door, and were faced with a man sitting at a desk doing paperwork.

"That man right there is the supply sergeant, and he's responsible for all this equipment. He does a great job too." Michael explained.

"Hello Mister Collins, come to check something out?" The supply sergeant asked.

"Yep. I'm also showing Alistair here around the camp." Michael explained.

"Yes sir." The supply sergeant said.

Alistair scanned his eyes across the array of rifles, pistols, shotguns, machine guns, and explosives. His eyes landed on one shelf apart from the rest, which held firearms completely unlike the others.

"What's that stuff?" Alistair asked.

"That's my own private collection. I figured it would be safer here than back in Arizona where some good for nothing copper could try to confiscate it." Michael said.

"Wait.. wut?" Alistair coughed.

He went closer to the shelf in question, eyeing up the dozen or so firearms inside.

"You have a lot! What the heck do you do with all those?!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Sherry's got a pair of shoes for every occasion, and I've got a firearm for every occasion." Michael said, shrugging.

"Yeah but... I thought you had no money?" Alistair questioned.

"It's not hard to gather up things if you know how to negotiate with people. Take that M14 for example. Typically those things are pretty expensive, on the order of over 1,200 dollars. Want to guess how much I paid?" Michael asked.

"A thousand?" Alistair asked.

"Nope. I paid zero. Zip. Zilch. Free.99." Michael said.

"HOW?!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Well, there was this guy I knew who was dead broke. He needed some cash for something, I don't remember what. Anyways, he wanted to sell this 7.1 surround sound system to me for four hundred bucks. I bumped the price up to five hundred, and told him to throw in the M14. Deal, hand shake, down the road." Michael said.

"Wha?" Alistair coughed.

"Then I flipped the 7.1 surround for eight hundred, making the rifle cost nothing. In fact, I was able to pick up a pile of nice USGI M14 magazines with the profit. And by the way, that was another bit of arab horse trading in of itself." Michael said, smiling.

His finger scrolled down the row of weapons.

"And this Mossberg 590 was part of it. You see, there was this fella who had this Mossberg for sale at a gun show. It looked like it'd been dragged behind a truck through a salt water swamp. It was all sorts of nasty, rusty, junky beat up shit. I got it for ninety bucks, with the M14 mags on discount." Michael explained.

"But it doesn't look so bad." Alistair noted.

"That's because I took it to a shop I was working at around that time, stripped it to individual parts, and sand blasted it. Then I Cerakoted it, and treated the stock with stain and polyurethane. Pretty neat, huh? It hides all the imperfections." Michael said.

"That's bloody brilliant! But... did you pay full bore for anything?" Alistair asked.

"The Beretta." Michael said quietly.

...

..

"Well, I'll say it was worth it." Sherry interjected.

"Yeah. That said, even that was still pretty cheap. It was a used surplus pistol, which is why it looks like hell. Tons and tons of holster wear, and almost no actual use." Michael said.

.

.

"Sergeant, perhaps you could explain the check out process to Alistair?" Michael suggested.

Alistair shot Michael a surprised look, then turned his full attention to the sergeant.

"Well, it's pretty simple. All you have to do is pick out what gear you want to take, and then just sign this paper here. I'll fill out the rest, like serial number or quantity of gear taken." The supply sergeant explained.

He turned a clip board around and placed a pen down on it. Alistair reluctantly took the pen, and hovered the point right over the dotted line.

"You do know I'm from Canada, right sergeant?" Alistair asked.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me? We're on another fucking planet." The supply sergeant said gruffly.

"Careful sarge, he might water torture you with maple syrup." Michael quipped.

"Oh bloody hell!" Alistair said, chuckling.

Alistair wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He enthusiastically signed the dotted line, and turned towards the rack of rifles. He picked out a nice M4 with a sopmod stock, a Glock 19 gen 3, a few hand grenades, ammo, and a load bearing vest.

"This is what I'd like to check out sergeant." Alistair said.

"Alright, let me get those serial numbers and you'll be good to go." The supply sergeant said.

"That's a lot of stuff to carry master." Crimson said.

"It's alright luv, I don't mind." Alistair said.

...

As they waited for the sergeant to fill out the paperwork, Alistair turned and smiled towards Michael.

"Thanks, I owe you." Alistair said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't give you those firearms, someone else did." Michael said.

"Sure sure. Thanks anyways." Alistair said, smiling.

"Just do us all a favor and don't try taking it back to earth. When you're done visiting this world, return all this gear to the sergeant here. He'll be waiting." Michael said.

"Not a problem." Alistair said.

"And hey... when you get your citizenship, I'll take you to a little gun shop I know about. You'll love it. I'll buy you a welcome present." Michael said, smiling.

"If you're saying it's good, then it must be hecka good." Alistair said cheerfully.

Sherry tugged on Michael's sleeve.

"Sweetie, the helicopter approaches." Sherry warned.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

"Dun di ta dun dun! Dun di ta dun dun! Dun di ta dun dun, dun di ta DA~!" Alistair sang.

He sat in his seat on the Blackhawk helicopter with an M4 wedged between his knees, humming the Ride of the Valkyries, as they cruised over the green fields of Sherry's world.

"Hey guys, does anyone smoke?" Michael asked.

"Hey! No smoking! We're cruising at nine and a half thousand feet!" The pilot interrupted.

He pointed at his face, which had an oxygen mask.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to light up. I just need a prop. Anyone got a pack?" Michael asked again.

"I do sir." A crewmember said.

"Can I borrow it? I'll give it back later." Michael asked.

The crewmember produced a pack of Camels, and passed it to Michael. He in turn passed it to Alistair.

"Roll it up in your shirt sleeve." Michael said.

"Ha! I get it!" Alistair exclaimed cheerfully.

The crewmember chuckled, also getting the reference. Michael used Alistair's phone to take a picture.

"Dun di ta dun dun! Dun di ta dun dun! Dun di ta dun dun, dun di ta DAAAAAA~!" Michael and Alistair both sang.

Chuckles could be heard from the cockpit, and the aircrew all wore smiles. Even Sherry was smiling, even though she didn't understand what the heck was going on.

"Check point Delta. We're still an hour out." The pilot called.

"Remarkable! To cover so much ground so quickly!" Sherry said.

"Kinda puts the Duster to shame, doesn't it?" Michael asked.

"On the aspect of speed alone, I'm afraid it does. But I still love the Duster." Sherry said.

Michael looked out the door of the helicopter, and pointed.

"There she is, right on cue. I remembered it being near check point delta." Michael said.

"What?" Alistair asked.

He squinted, and peered into the distance.

"Bloody hell, it's a floating sky island!" Alistair exclaimed.

Sherry leaned over and looked past their shoulders. Off in the far distance, partially concealed by some clouds, was a large green sky island. It almost seemed to shimmer, as if it were an illusion. But there was no denying that it was there.

"Truly? I didn't know there was one over here. How exciting!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Really? You never noticed it?" Michael asked.

Sherry nodded.

"I've traveled all up and down this entire area, and I've never seen it." Sherry said.

Michael's eyes lit up with excitement. The prospect of exploring the unknown on an alien planet was too tempting for him to resist.

"Hey pilot, how's our fuel?" Michael asked

"We're loaded with the external fuel tanks, so we're green. We could make this trip twice and not worry about fuel." The pilot said.

"Excellent. Take us to nine o'clock, and head towards that sky island." Michael instructed.

"Yes sir." The pilot said.

The pilot and co pilot quickly turned the helicopter, and took them towards the sky island.

"Rising to ten thousand feet. Check O2." The pilot said.

The crewmember straightened and looked everyone over.

"If any of you start feeling funny or have trouble breathing, speak up. I'll give you oxygen. We're high enough that it's a problem." The crewmember instructed.

"I'm okay. Maple man?" Michael questioned.

"Oh I'm peachy. How 'bout you luv?" Alistair asked.

"I feel fine. I guess my lungs are pretty good." Crimson said.

"I too am just fine." Sherry said.

…

They got to right around level with the lowest flat point on the island, hovering a few hundred feet off its edge.

"Altitude?" Michael asked.

"We're at ten thousand feet sir. Right on the line." The pilot said.

"That's too precise. This island... it's exactly at ten thousand feet. The mystery grows." Michael said.

...

"Pilot, drop five hundred feet." Michael instructed.

"Yes sir." The pilot said.

…

"Alright, we're at 9,500 feet." The pilot said.

Michael, Alistair, Sherry, and Crimson all looked out the windows and doors of the Blackhawk.

"Do you see what I see?" Michael asked.

"Indeed. It's disappearing." Sherry noted.

"Pilot! Drop another five hundred feet!" Michael instructed excitedly.

…

The Blackhawk descended another five hundred feet, bringing the above-ground altitude to an even 9000. The further down they descended, the more the island faded from view. By the time they leveled off at 9k, the island was nearly completely gone.

"So that's why you didn't know about it. It's invisible from the ground." Michael reasoned.

"But wouldn't a harpy spot it from the air?" Alistair asked.

"No, harpies never fly this high up. It's too much effort, the air is too thin up here." Sherry explained.

"If I may sir. Most birds don't fly over five hundred feet." The pilot interjected.

"Oh yeah? What about migratory birds?" Michael asked.

"They usually fly around three to five thousand feet, and we're several thousand over that. Nothing natural is going to fly over this... sky island... or whatever you called it." The pilot said.

"Huh. The more you know." Michael said.

"That's cool info. Thanks." Alistair said, smiling.

…

"Bring us back up to ten thousand." Michael instructed.

"Yes sir." The pilot said.

The Blackhawk gained altitude, and brought them level again with the sky island. There was a nice wide grassy field that was just begging to have a helicopter land in the middle of it. The temptation was too great, and Michael pointed the spot out to the pilot.

"Here's what I want you to do. Bring this bird in and just lightly kiss that spot with the skids. Sherry will hop out and check to see if things are safe. If the sky island starts moving, tipping, or losing altitude, we'll bail out." Michael explained.

"Why me sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Because you have wings. If something happened, you could always float down to the surface." Michael explained.

Sherry fluttered her own wings.

"Of course, how silly of me. I often forget that I have these, I hardly ever use them." Sherry said, grinning.

So just as Michael had instructed, the pilot brought that big hog of a helicopter down, and just barely kissed the ground with the skids. Sherry hopped out, and quickly surveyed the area. Before long, she waved them down.

"Okay pilot, just settle her down nice and easy. If the horizon gauge shows anything funny happening, throttle up and bail out of here." Michael instructed.

So the Blackhawk slowly and carefully settled down onto the grass. Michael and crew waited for something to happen, and nothing did.

"Now you can throttle down. Keep it idling a few minutes, and watch for anything bad happening. If it does, throttle up and save yourselves. Alistair and I are getting off." Michael instructed.

"Sir, you'd better take an oxygen bottle with you. Remember, we're still at ten thousand feet." The crewmember said.

She offered up the pony bottle, and Michael took it. With that, Michael and Alistair jumped out of the Blackhawk and quickly rushed over to where Sherry was waiting. Crimson waited on the helicopter.

…

..

.

Once the trio got well away from the noisy helicopter, they all settled down and took a knee while surveying the area. They were surrounded by grass and trees.

"It doesn't seem like anything's having a hard time living here." Michael observed.

"And I'm not having any trouble breathing. Is it magic?" Alistair questioned.

"Likely. I must warn you, these sky islands often have many dangers upon them." Sherry warned.

Alistair answered by pulling the charging handle on his M4.

"Sherry, pull my rifle out of your pocket dimension please." Michael requested.

Sherry reached between her breasts, and pulled out a little bitty miniature rifle case, which quickly ballooned in size to become a regular rifle case.

*ClickClick

Michael pulled out his beloved M14 rifle, and a load bearing vest full of magazines.

"Jesus Mike. You don't fuck around. You brought the M14." Alistair muttered.

"Yeah well, I tried running an AK74. That's a long story in of itself." Michael recounted.

"Like what?" Alistair asked.

"Like the Order is smoking some good shit, and they don't even feel it when you shoot them in the chest with the 5.45." Michael said.

Sherry whirled her head around sharply, holding her finger up to silence them. Some strange squeaking sounds echoed out of the woods.

…

"Be wary. There are beasts upon this sky island. Perhaps even monsters." Sherry warned quietly.

"Monsters? You mean monster girls?" Alistair asked quietly.

"No. I mean real monsters. They do still exist." Sherry said quietly.

"Like the demon realm boar?" Michael asked quietly.

"Indeed." Sherry said quietly.

Michael clutched his M14 tightly. Unlike the previous time he had encountered one of those elephant sized pigs, he didn't feel under equipped. He was confident in the stopping power of his beloved 7.62x51.

"Just a reminder, I don't have my sword anymore." Sherry warned quietly.

"Use destruction magic if we get into trouble." Michael said quietly.

And with their respective weapons at the ready, the trio penetrated deeper into the sky island. Behind them, they heard the helicopter wind down and shut off.

"Has a sky island ever come crashing down?" Michael asked.

"Not that I've ever heard of, but I think it is possible. Your caution earlier was wise. Some magical power had to put this island here, and some power has to keep it here." Sherry said.

"And there's no telling how strong that power is, or how long it's been here." Michael said.

With Sherry in the lead, Alistair in the middle, and Michael coming up from the rear, they advanced deeper into the forest covered sky island.

…

..

.

After walking for quite a long time, Sherry came to a halt and held her fist up so the other two would stop.

"I'll fly up and scout around to save us some time." Sherry said.

Michael nodded in agreement. Sherry launched herself with powerful legs, and flapped her wings skyward. Michael's and Alistair's eyes were glued to her retreating figure.

"Hey uh… Mike?" Alistair asked.

"Yeah?" Michael asked distantly.

"I don't want to sound weird, but your wife…" Alistair trailed off.

"What about her?" Michael asked distantly.

"Her flying is the most obscene thing I've ever seen in my entire life." Alistair said.

"Yeah." Michael said distantly.

"The way she waggles her hips…" Alistair trailed off.

"And her tits are jiggling all over the place." Michael murmured distantly.

...

"I need to make her fly more often." Michael murmured distantly.

…

When Sherry landed back down next to those two hot and bothered men, she pointed off in a direction to their left.

"There's some sort of building that way." Sherry said.

Michael and Alistair remained silent.

"Sweetie?" Sherry questioned.

! ! !

"Right! Uh! Building! Sure! Let's go!" Michael blurted.

…

..

.

Later, after traveling a while, they reached the building in question. They all paused just shy of leaving the tree line.

"It's a castle! Or a fort! Or something!" Alistair remarked.

"It's a manor house." Michael said.

Sure enough, there was a large stone manor house on that floating sky island. They all stopped and observed it from a distance. Michael peered at it with his trusty world war two era binoculars.

"The front door is hanging wide open." Michael observed.

"It seems as if no person has lived here in some time." Sherry observed.

"I see some busted out windows." Alistair observed.

"It must be abandoned..." They all concluded at once.

…

"It's never a good idea to charge into some strange place without knowing what might be waiting. And besides, there is evil on the air." Sherry remarked.

"Is that why the hairs are standing up on my neck?" Alistair asked.

"Yes. Even humans can sense it." Sherry said.

"I have an idea. Could you give me that black case out of your pocket dimension?" Michael asked.

Sherry nodded and reached in between her tits, retrieving the case from her pocket dimension. Michael threw the clasps open, and lifted the lid.

"Is that… a little quadcopter? It's so cute!" Alistair remarked.

"Yeah, this is my Tiny Whoop. I'll fly it through the door and scout around before we go inside." Michael said.

"That's bloody brilliant!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Hehe, I forgot about that little contraption. Ahhhh…. Good memories." Sherry said, smiling.

...

*Beepbeep

"Armed..." The RC controller said.

*Whiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrr

The little quadcopter took off and zipped on over to the manor house. It flew to the door, and everyone anxiously waited for Michael to describe what he could see in the FPV goggles.

"Alright, I'm heading in." Michael said.

Almost as soon as the little whoop got past the door frame, the doors slammed shut behind it.

"Shit! It got dark!" Michael exclaimed.

"A trap!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael frantically thumbed the controls, and threw multiple switches. The sudden darkness had disorientated him.

"Armed..."

"Disarmed..."

"Angle Mode..."

"Armed..."

"Disarmed..."

…

"What's happening in there!?" Alistair asked.

"I don't know, I can't see. I think I landed upright. Let me try yawing and giving a little blip of throttle, so I can pivot around..." Michael said.

"Armed..."

…

"There we go. I've got some light streaming in from the window over the door. I am definitely still upright, and I don't see anything…" Michael hesitated.

He took a sharp breath.

"Ohshitthere's...ah!" Michael cried.

He yanked his goggles off and glared at the manor house. Nothing but static could be seen on the goggles.

"The link's gone. All I saw was a pair of glowing red eyes looking at me, and then the whoop got smashed." Michael explained.

"It's a good thing you sent that little contraption in ahead of us, or we would have been right in the middle of it." Sherry said.

Alistair nodded in agreement.

"Should we leave?" Alistair asked.

…

..

.

They all hummed with uncertainty. None of them really wanted to leave, but none of them could think up a good reason to proceed either. Curiosity could only get someone to go so far, and theirs was quickly getting overwhelmed by self preservation.

"Jessie P is going to be angry with me if I leave my tiny whoop here." Michael said.

"Who's Jessie P?" Alistair asked.

"He's mister tiny whoop, and… nevermind. The point is, I'm going in after it." Michael decided.

And with that, he hefted his trusty M14 and marched out of the tree line. He chambered a round by smartly pulling back on the charging handle, and letting it fly forward. Alistair and Sherry were right behind him.

*Rattleclickrattle

*Creeeeeeeaaaaak

The door opened with minimal effort. The instant the door was open, a large black beast with gaping maw and nasty yellow teeth appeared from the shadows.

*BANG!

Michael fired one time, the massive M14 rifle bucking powerfully in his arms. The great beast fell without even so much as a whimper, the massive thirty caliber projectile passing straight through its head and into its body. Everyone's ears were ringing.

…

..

.

Sherry, Michael, and Alistair were all clustered around the dead black beast.

"It's a demon wolf. They're one of the monsters I warned about earlier." Sherry said.

"It's the size of a bloody horse!" Alistair exclaimed.

Michael used the flash hider of his rifle to lift the lip of the dead beast. It had six inch long fangs.

"It could rip a man in two with those damn things." Michael muttered.

"And they do. Very often. The dark knights form parties to destroy these beasts, but they are rarely successful. It takes weeks of tracking, followed by intense combat, to put on down." Sherry explained.

He prodded it some more, and inspected the bullet hole between its eyes.

"Well, my M14 is the last thing that crossed it's mind." Michael said.

"I don't remember reading anything about these in the Encyclopedia." Alistair said.

"The wandering scholar has a reputation of making conclusions based on limited information. When he asked Druella about animals in the demon realms, she purposefully avoided speaking of such beasts." Sherry said.

"It cuts down on the sex tourism." Michael quipped.

He bent down and picked up the shattered pieces of his tiny whoop.

"I sure hope I was recording the DVR, because nobody's going to believe this shit back home." Michael said.

"Maybe you could get it on Ancient Aliens. I'm sure those quacks would eat it right up." Alistair quipped.

…

..

.

After leaving the doorway and the dead canine, the trio made their way up a curling flight of steps, into a split hallway. It went to the left and right, with the right passage showing rows of doors. The left passage showed two doors before curving out of sight around a corner.

"Do you have another tiny whoop Mike?" Alistair asked.

"No, but I do have a five inch class quad. If I'm careful, I should be able to fly it around in here." Michael said.

"You'd better. This could be very dangerous. Each footstep could trigger a trap." Sherry said.

"Commander Collins is on the job!" Michael said cheerfully.

"You're not an astronaut Mike, just fly the bloody thing." Alistair said dryly.

...

He got his quadcopter ready, and sent it out in much the same way as the tiny whoop. Being that it was a much bigger quad, it was a lot louder.

*NiiiiiiiiiWHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

And it was gone down the right hand hallway with all the doors. Michael sat cross legged on the floor with the goggles over his eyes as he navigated the quad remotely down the dim passageway.

"You guys are watching my back, right? I'm pretty helpless when I'm wearing these goggles." Michael asked.

"Of course sweetie. We're both here." Sherry reassured.

Sherry patted his shoulder reassuringly, letting him know she was right there.

...

Michael's quad rounded a corner, and flew into a patch of darkness again. He pitched back and brought it to a halt, and tried turning around.

*SHINK!

"Damn it! Something got me again!" Michael exclaimed.

Michael ripped his goggles off and picked up his rifle. They carefully worked their way down the hallway, and took extra care going around the corner.

…

When they got to the spot and shined a flashlight around, they found the quadcopter laying on the ground… smoldering. A lance was embedded into the wall right next to the drone. Michael grabbed his quad and frantically tried to rip the flaming lipo battery off, which he proceeded to throw out a nearby broken window.

"The little fracker stabbed my lipo!" Michael exclaimed.

"Maybe we had better leave." Sherry said.

"Hell no! I've already lost a 120 dollar tiny whoop and a 25 dollar lipo! I'm not going anywhere! At this point, I'm mad!" Michael exclaimed.

He used his rifle to dislodge the spear from the wall without touching it, and then he glanced off to the right where the spear was supposedly launched. All that was there was a dirt encrusted window.

"Where did this thing come from anyways?" Michael muttered.

"Mike! Look at the spear again!" Alistair exclaimed.

Michael looked down, and watched as the spear evaporated.

"It was an ethereal spear. It was conjured up by magic." Sherry said.

"And it would be safe to assume that whatever did the conjuring is probably still around here. So everyone stay alert." Michael said.

…

Sherry suddenly whirled around and pointed towards one of the nearby doors.

"I sense a presence behind that door right there!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Maybe our mad spear chucker?" Michael asked.

"Probably." Sherry said.

Michael reached for the doorknob, but Sherry caught his hand.

"I'll go first. You stay behind me." Sherry insisted.

Michael nodded and stepped back. Sherry opened the door while keeping a magic filled hand at the ready. She marched into the room with a fireball ready to cast at a moment's notice.

*SLAM!

The door slammed shut behind her, right in Michael's face.

"SHIT!" Alistair and Michael both cussed.

*BANG BANG BANG

"Sherry!" Michael shouted.

They wailed on the door with everything they had, but it was rock solid. Michael even pounded on it with his mighty foot, but it didn't burst open.

"Frack this! SHERRY! Stay away from the door!" Michael shouted.

*BOOM!

*BOOM!

He fired his rifle twice, once into each door hinge. The door limply toppled over. The two men rushed inside, and found an empty room devoid of furniture.

"That did NOT just happen! Sherry!? Where are you?!" Michael called.

"I think I saw this once in a really bad anime." Alistair spat.

…

..

.

~A While Later~

.

..

…

"What do we do now? We've searched every room." Alistair asked.

"We haven't checked down that one leftward hallway yet, and we haven't looked for an attic or basement. It's the last few places she could be." Michael said.

"Okay, so how do we check it without getting killed by some booby trap? We've already triggered three of them." Alistair asked.

Michael winced as he thought about the booby traps they had come across while searching the house. There had been a fire trap, triggered by a magic circle, a trip wire, which triggered darts out of the wall, and finally the good old fashioned rug covering a hole in the floor filled with punji stakes. If it hadn't have been for Michael's old pair of Vietnam era 'Spike Resistant' jungle boots, that last one would have ended in injury for sure.

"I have one lipo left. I could send the drone to scout ahead. Even if it gets wrecked up, it's better than one of us catching an arrow to the knee." Michael said.

"Then do it, I'll watch your back." Alistair said.

So once again Michael prepared his quadcopter to serve the role of scout. He plugged in his last lipo, pulled his goggles over his eyes, and flipped the arm switch on his controller. The props spun up and the drone was off to do its duty. Several moments passed.

"It's nothing. It just loops around the house and pops out back in that other hallway we were in before. I can see the hole in the wall from the spear. I'm coming back… wait… there's a side hallway we missed." Michael said.

Michael fell silent as he explored the dim hallway he had discovered.

"Yeah, I see a double door in that side hallway. Maybe it's the master bedroom? We should go check it out." Michael said.

The drone faithfully came back, and landed next to Michael. He pulled his goggles off, and unplugged the lipo.

*GUH!

It was then that Michael noticed how alone he was. Alistair was nowhere to be found. A cold chill ran down his spine at the thought of how vulnerable he had just been.

"Al! Where the hell did you go? I thought you were going to watch my back!" Michael exclaimed.

…silence.

"Maple man?" Michael called quietly.

Michael panned the area with his bright flashlight, and saw no sign of Alistair anywhere.

…

..

.

Having been forced to be on his own, Michael mustered his bravery and his rifle, and went to that master bedroom. He arrived at the intricate double doors unscathed, his rifle in his hands and his angle head flashlight clipped to his load bearing vest. He was relying on that flashlight to get him through those dark hallways, and warn him of any potential traps. So far it had been all clear, but he proceeded cautiously none the less.

*ClickCreeeeeeeeak

He pushed open the doors, and held his rifle at the ready. Nothing leapt out at him, so he risked taking a few steps inside.

*Pat…pat…pat

His panama soled jungle boots stirred up several decades worth of settled dust as he slowly crept up to the large bed that was the center piece of the bedroom. Laying on top of the bed was a collection of bleached white bones. A human skull lay on the pillow.

"Those are gnaw marks. Something ate this person. It must have happened a long time ago, because there's not even a hint of stench. All I smell is dust and mildew." Michael thought.

He used the muzzle of the rifle to shuffle the bones around.

"The pelvis… it's wide. And it has a large birth canal. This was a woman." Michael thought.

Shining his light around, he spotted the remains of a tattered black dress, a staff with a gnarled end, and a pointy hat.

"So it was a witch. She must have been living here on her own. I haven't found any other bodies. I wonder what killed her? A demon wolf maybe?" Michael thought.

He looked around for any other clues. There wasn't much that stuck out as unusual, most of it was the expected dressers and other things that are typically found in a master bedroom. But one thing did catch Michael's eye, sitting atop the dresser with an attached vanity. Something that was oddly shiny in that dirty room.

"A glass case? What's that inside it?" Michael thought.

He drew closer, peering through the dirty glass. There was a delicate little hook latch, so he undid it and opened the case. Sitting on a pedestal was a single, solitary, lonely golden coin.

"I don't recognize those markings. There's no telling when that coin was minted. It's hammered gold, so it must be VERY old." Michael thought.

He turned his eyes back towards the gruesome pile of bones lying on the bed, and then back to the coin. The wheels of thought turned in Michael's head.

…

..

.

*Sigh

*Click

He closed the door again without ever touching the coin, turned, and walked towards the door.

"I guess I had better keep looking for Sherry and maple man." Michael thought.

Just as he got there, he heard a growl come from the darkness. His flashlight flicked up, and he saw a demon wolf charging down the hallway towards him. Before having a chance to even raise his rifle, the wolf leapt into the air towards him.

"SHIT!" Michael cussed.

*WHOOSH!

The wolf stopped in mid air, as if frozen. With his heart pounding in fright, Michael fumbled and raised his rifle.

"It's just… hovering there! What the hell? Did time freeze or something?" Michael thought.

*BANG!

*BANGBANGBANG!

He fired four times, riddling the wolf's head with those 147 grain FMJs. Michael gulped down air as he struggled to get his racing heart under control. Meanwhile, the wolf continued to hover in mid air.

"Hehehehehahahahahaha!"

*THUD!

The wolf thudded to the floor, and blood oozed from the four bullet holes. Michael whirled around towards where the laughter had come from, his rifle still raised. Standing behind him was the ghost of a woman with fire red hair.

"Who the heck are you!?" Michael blurted.

"I am known as Rowan the fire witch. For obvious reasons of course." Rowan said.

She twirled her red hair with her fingers.

"You must be quite the powerful human to be able to see a specter like me. I had high hopes that you would be the one who passed my test." Rowan said.

"Test? What test?" Michael asked.

She raised her arm and pointed towards that dirty glass case with the coin on display.

"You didn't take what wasn't yours. You passed the test. Now your curiosity shall be rewarded. I hear your thoughts, and I know many questions burn in your mind." Rowan said, grinning.

"Where are my friends?" Michael asked immediately.

The woman raised her hand and cast a spell. Her finger pointed towards the vanity, and a stream of magic launched towards the mirror. The reflection changed from the sight of Michael, to the sight of the Blackhawk helicopter outside. Alistair and Sherry could clearly be seen climbing up into the Blackhawk.

"In order to test the three of you, I cast a spell which altered your perceptions of your surroundings. The woman believes that you and the man called maple disappeared. She immediately destroyed the house in her rage, and left nothing but a smoking crater." Rowan explained.

"Yeah, that sounds like her. What about the other one?" Michael asked.

"The man you call maple came here… and proceeded to tamper with my underwear drawer. He also took the coin, but it seemed as if it were an afterthought." Rowan explained.

"Yep, that sounds like him too. So what are you going to do to them?" Michael asked.

"Nothing. I wiped away their recollection of these events, and left them right there." Rowan said.

She pointed towards the mirror again, which still showed the Blackhawk. Sherry seemed to be standing and waiting, her eyes looking longingly towards the forest. Alistair also seemed anxious, and he was fidgeting with his M4 rifle.

"Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Rowan asked.

"For that, yes. But I have other questions. What happened to you?" Michael asked.

"You already figured that out on your own. The wolves killed me in my sleep, many centuries ago. Where they were once my pets, they turned on me soon after the new monster lord took power and changed the nature of monsters everywhere." Rowan explained.

Michael raised an eyebrow. He was standing in front of someone who was thousands of years old, and old enough to have witnessed the change in power from the demon lord to Lilith. He quickly concluded that the wolves turned on their former master when her nature fundamentally changed from what it was, to what stood before him in that moment. Of course, that line of thought lead to another question.

…

"That oversized dog is centuries old?" Michael asked, shocked.

"Yes. When they got done filling their bellies with my flesh, they proceeded to consume all my ingredients for potion making. It extended their lives... possibly infinitely before you came along." Rowan explained.

"Damn. I'd like to know what some of those ingredients were. I'd turn it into pill form and take it every day." Michael said.

The witch rowan snickered, and nodded in agreement.

…

"Of course, I would have killed the wolves myself, but I put too many wards on them before the change. My own magic was nearly useless against my own pets, which as you can see… was quite the foolish mistake." Rowan explained, gesturing towards herself.

"That explains that. Okay, next question… is there anything I can do to help you? Do you want me to go get a necromancer?" Michael asked.

"That's kind of you, but you would pay far more than a mere fifty silver to resurrect someone like me." Rowan said.

Michael raised an eyebrow once again.

"I am aware of what you did for those farmers, I see the memory at the front of your mind. But that doesn't matter, because it would take an army of those piddly little necromancers to equal the power I contain in my pinky finger. It would be quite impossible to resurrect me." Rowan said.

"Oh… I'm sorry." Michael said quietly.

"It's not a problem. I have become quite accustomed to being dead. I can fly through walls, float anywhere I like, and even play pranks on people. It's quite nice." Rowan said cheerfully.

"So this was all just a prank? Were you the one who threw a spear at my quadcopter?" Michael asked.

"It was me. I became frightened at the sight of such a new world machine. Which thinking back… is quite silly considering I'm dead. My apologies." Rowan said.

"… I guess it is pretty scary sounding. I can't blame you for that." Michael said quietly.

…

"Are there any other wolves running around?" Michael asked.

"There were two, and now there are none." Rowan said.

...

"Well then… I had better be going. Sorry to disturb you." Michael said.

*SLAM!

The double doors slammed shut. Michael winced internally. He knew it wasn't going to be THAT easy.

"I never said you could leave. You're staying here… with me." Rowan said calmly.

Michael slowly turned, his eye twitching.

"We're not going to tell anyone about this place. We were just exploring." Michael said pointedly.

"I know that. Such a thing does not concern me. Many people in the world know of this sky island, even if you didn't." Rowan said.

She advanced on him, and he backed away.

"I sense that you have experienced death in the past. Your soul should be very easy to pull from your body. Then you can stay here with me, for the rest of time. We could spend eternity playing and having fun." Rowan said, smiling warmly.

Michael's heart thudded fearfully in his chest.

"My wife won't ever allow that to happen. She'll come for me eventually." Michael said.

"Wife? How interesting. Why don't I bring her here, and she can play with us too?" Rowan suggested.

"According to what you just told me earlier, she's already gone ballistic and destroyed your house." Michael said.

"Oh! You mean the succubus!" Rowan exclaimed.

She took a couple steps closer.

"If you're human and she's a monster, then why are you not trying to escape from her clutches?" Rowan asked.

"Because I love her." Michael said.

"A monster. You... a human... wish to fornicate with a monster. I don't believe your words come from the heart." Rowan said.

"What's that crack supposed to mean?" Michael asked sharply.

Rowan raised her hand.

"With the snap of my fingers, I could make that succubus, and everyone else on that machine, forget you ever existed. Should I do it?" Rowan asked.

Michael gasped.

"No! Please! Don't take my wife away!" Michael pleaded.

Even as he said the words, a split second of hesitation formed in the back of his mind. He didn't know why, and it quickly disappeared, but there was no denying it was there.

"And why shouldn't I? Whatever you think you have between you two, it's not real. I'll show you." Rowan said.

*SNAP

"NO!" Michael wailed.

It was too late. Rowan cast the spell, and Sherry's memory of Michael was wiped completely. The whole helicopter crew couldn't remember him, not even Alistair or Crimson.

"And now... this!" Rowan said.

*SNAP

The doors creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Sherry walked into the room with her eyes closed, as if she were sleep walking.

"Look at her. Succubii are nothing but predators. They care not for your feelings, or about the warmth in your heart." Rowan said.

"You're wrong! Succubii aren't like that anymore! Not since the new monster lord took power!" Michael argued, choking up.

"Then I challenge you to a gamble. This beast no longer remembers you. All her memories of you are gone, like a slate wiped clean. If I release her from my control, do you truly believe she would treat you as anything other than a tasty meal?" Rowan asked.

"Yes! I do! She's my damn WIFE!" Michael exclaimed.

"Would you gamble your future on that?" Rowan asked.

"... you mean... whether I stay here or not?" Michael asked.

"Exactly. If you lose the wager, you must join me in death. If I lose, you will be granted whatever you so desire." Rowan said.

"But if she doesn't remember me, how is that fair?" Michael asked.

"It's quite simple... only the goddess of love can create or destroy love at the snap of her fingers." Rowan said.

*SNAP!

"ARGH!" Michael cried out in pain.

A deep gouge appeared on his leg, and blood streamed from it and soaked into his BDU pant leg.

"I'll predict the future for you. A succubus in her prime, undoubtedly hungry as they always are, standing before a helpless man who can't run away. She won't be able to resist. You'll be sucked dry." Rowan said.

She smirked.

"And when you die, you'll get to listen to me say 'I told you so' for the next thousand years." Rowan said.

...

Sherry swayed and rubbed her forehead.

"Ooof... my head... where am I?" Sherry murmured.

"Sherry! Over here!" Michael called.

She turned and quickly surveyed him with her crimson eyes.

"Who are you?" Sherry asked.

"It's me, your husband! Michael!" Michael insisted.

"I know no one named Michael, and I don't have a husband." Sherry said.

She walked closer, her eyes hungrily looking him over from head to toe. Her eyes lingered briefly on his leg, and then on his crotch.

"I'm not lying. You just don't remember. I'm really your husband. Believe me!" Michael pleaded.

Sherry knelt down on a knee, her eyebrows furrowed. Her hand slowly reached out.

"And this is where she pushes you over, and you lose." Rowan said smugly.

Michael glanced sideways at Rowan, who was standing well out of the way.

"No worries, she has no idea I'm here. And I have no control over her." Rowan said.

Sherry pushed against Michael and forced him to lay down, and then she straddled him.

"Please... don't do it. I'm hurt, and I want to get the hell out of here!" Michael exclaimed.

"It's pointless to beg. She doesn't care what you want. She only cares about satiating her hunger. Next... she'll kiss you to get a taste." Rowan said.

Right on cue, Sherry leaned forward and planted her warm and wet lips against Michael's. As she kissed him, Rowan kept right on talking in the background.

"Of course a kiss is usually a sign of intimacy, but the succubii have twisted it into a tool to subjugate men. The infamous succubus's kiss cannot be resisted by any man." Rowan said.

Sherry pulled away, trailing saliva from Michael's mouth.

"And this is the part where she rapes you." Rowan noted.

Moments after the words came out of her mouth, Sherry began pulling on Michael's pants. She pulled them all the way down to his ankles.

"Sherry..." Michael pleaded, choking.

"My name is Searraigh. Not Sherry." Sherry said.

...

She paused, her hands wrapped around his ankles.

"You... say we're married?" Sherry asked.

Rowan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Michael nodded energetically. She straddled him once again, and leaned forward.

*Smooch

Sherry kissed him a second time.

"Don't get your hopes up. She'll still rape you in the end. They always do." Rowan said defiantly.

"You're... bleeding?" Sherry murmured.

Her hand went right past his member, and straight to the wound. Her healing magic filled her fingers, and the wound sealed right up without a scar.

"Does that feel better sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah... thank you." Michael said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Impossible! She actually cared enough to heal you?!" Rowan exclaimed, shocked.

She pulled his pants back up and buckled them tight. Then she leaned in and kissed him a third time, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I know you... but... I don't know you. Why is that? Why does your spirit seem so warm and familiar?" Sherry asked.

"Because we're married. You've been memory wiped." Michael insisted, looking her right in the eye.

"I... believe you." Sherry said.

She looked around, her eyes scanning the room. Even with Rowan standing right there, Sherry still couldn't see her.

"Where do you wish to go? I'll help you in any way I can." Sherry asked.

*Snap!

Rowan snapped her fingers, and Sherry froze.

"Enough. This has gone on long enough." Rowan muttered.

"She didn't attack me! She cares about how I feel, and she recognizes me even without her memories! You lose!" Michael exclaimed.

*Whoooooooshhhhhhhh

The image of Sherry faded away, leaving Michael alone on the floor.

"And I should probably tell you... that was all an illusion. She was never in the room with you." Rowan said.

"What? Then how did..." Michael started to say.

"I should also tell you that you're also not really here." Rowan said.

She snapped her fingers, and the room shimmered. Suddenly Michael found himself standing at the doors to the master bedroom, rifle in hand, with the dead wolf in front of him. The doors were wide open, and an escape opportunity had presented itself. Yet, Michael didn't take his chance and run.

"Now you're in reality. Don't ask how it works, your mind would not comprehend." Rowan said.

Michael stood there as he wrapped his mind around what was going on. Rowan pointed towards the vanity, and showed the Blackhawk was still sitting in the same spot with Sherry and Alistair inside.

"If you don't wish to be parted from her, I could always have her stay here too. Then we all could be together... as ghosts." Rowan offered.

"Why are you so bound and determined to keep us here? Aren't you out here for the privacy?" Michael asked.

"Privacy which you invaded?" Rowan countered.

...

"I looked at the house. It looked abandoned. I would have immediately turned around and left if it looked like someone was actually living here." Michael countered.

"This is true. I see it in your heart. You came here with pure intentions. That is why I wish for you to stay. I wish for a friend with a pure heart." Rowan said.

She glanced away and murmured to herself.

"I just never thought I would be friends with a succubus too. But what do you know... she has a pure heart too. What a world to live in. I don't want the panty pervert though." Rowan murmured.

She coughed and cleared her ghostly throat, although Michael wasn't sure if ghosts had throats. Then she focused her attention on Michael again.

"I created this sky island in order to protect myself. Many hated me, and sought my destruction. I treated them as they treated me, and wound up at war with nearly everyone. Those few friends I had, I cherished as true friends." Rowan said.

"Yeah, I know what it's like. I'm like that too, treating people how they treat me. But then people just demand more and more until there's nothing left to give. Then they get really nasty really quick. I saw it a million times." Michael said.

"They wish to be treated better than they treat you. Typical for the selfish humans." Rowan said.

...

"We are very much alike, you and I. Are you sure you do not wish to stay?" Rowan asked.

"I'm sure. I'm sorry, it's nothing against you. But I'm not ready to die yet." Michael said.

Rowan let out a quiet defeated sigh.

"Very well, you may leave if you wish. I shall treat you as I wish to be treated." Rowan said.

Michael looked towards the doors, and then back to Rowan.

"I can come back and visit you again someday." Michael offered.

"I would like that. It seems that much has changed in the world with the new monster lord. Perhaps you could return and tell me about it." Rowan said.

"After I get to experience a little bit of it for myself. I'm new here too." Michael said.

And with that, Michael bade her farewell. He walked out of that manor house alone, and hiked back in the direction of the helicopter.

…

~Later~

…

When Michael got back to the helicopter, they were already in the middle of the startup procedure. He spotted Sherry and Alistair sitting inside the helicopter, and they spotted him.

"Sweetie! Come! We're leaving!" Sherry shouted while waving.

He hustled up to the helicopter, where Sherry reached out to grab his hand and help lift him up inside. The moment Michael was in range, he fiercely kissed her. Then he sat in one of the open seats and pulled a crew headset on.

"I was worried about you sweetie! What happened? Where did you go?" Sherry asked.

Michael thought about it for a moment, and decided on an answer.

"I found a lonely ghost, and we talked for a while. She didn't mean any harm." Michael said honestly.

"I'm just glad you're back, safe and sound. Alistair wanted to run out there all on his own and look for you." Sherry said.

Alistair shrugged.

"I had a moment of weakness." Alistair said.

"Sure you did maple man, sure you did." Michael said, smiling.

*WHUMP!

Sherry was about to say something, but she froze with her mouth open. Everything stopped. The helicopter stopped whining, everyone stopped moving, and the whole world became deathly still and quiet.

"Wh...what the frack happened?" Michael exclaimed.

He pulled his headset half-off and looked around. Rowan was standing right next to the helicopter, her ghostly form shimmering in the sunlight.

"Fear not, I have not hurt them. They are simply frozen, like I froze that wolf that tried to eat you." Rowan said.

"Okay... but why?" Michael asked.

Rowan smiled warmly.

"I forgot something. Our discussion was so interesting, I forgot the rest of your reward for passing my test." Rowan said.

*SNAP

She snapped her fingers. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but Michael eventually noticed an odd weight settle into his pocket. He reached in, and wrapped his fingers around a large coin.

"Is this..." Michael hesitated.

He pulled it out and looked at it in the bright daylight. It was the same golden coin that had been on display in Rowan's bedroom.

"I'm sure you know what it is." Rowan said.

"It's a magic coin, isn't it? Why else would you put it on display like that?" Michael reasoned.

The gold gleamed in the light, both from the sun and from its own supply of power. Right before Michael's very eyes, the coin began changing shape. It went from whatever foreign design it had before, to the very recognizable design of an American double eagle. Michael's eyes were filled in wonder as he beheld the coin.

"I have no use for it anymore. What would I wish for? Eternal life?" Rowan said, chuckling.

"Yeah but... aren't these super rare and valuable?" Michael questioned.

"Certainly. And this one is especially valuable, because it hasn't granted a wish in ten thousand years. Unlike those ordinary magic coins which take the form of common coins, this one has enough energy built up to change fate itself." Rowan explained.

She leaned in and looked Michael in the eye.

"I highly advise you to keep it well away from that succubus. She'll just waste it on something sexual. Even if they are different than the ones I knew, their nature as sluts is unchanged." Rowan said.

"I can't deny that." Michael said.

*WHUMP!

Michael glanced upwards as the Blackhawk began making noise again. The whine of the turbines and the WOP WOP WOP of the spinning blades once again beat on his ears. He looked down, and Rowan was gone. He slid the headset back on to protect him from the loud noise.

"...and he wasn't the only one! I wanted to go looking for you too sweetie!" Sherry finished.

...

"Sweetie? What's wrong? You look disturbed." Sherry said.

"It's uh... nothing." Michael said.

He quickly and quietly slipped the magic coin into his pocket, where it would be safe and sound. Luckily, nobody noticed. The Blackhawk spun up, and they gently lifted off the sky island. They yawed to the right, and flew away.

…

~Meanwhile~

…

Rowan's ethereal form stood in front of one of the dirty windows of her manor house, watching as the Blackhawk lifted off the ground and began flying away. The Blackhawk could clearly be heard as it faded into the distance.

*Pat

…

*Pat pat

Rowan didn't even bother turning around to see who was creeping up on her. She already knew, even before he spoke.

"So you have returned." Rowan said, displeased.

A lanky man wearing an M65 field jacket and a boonie hat stepped out of the shadows. Standing next to him was a beautiful curvy woman with blue eyes and ash brown hair.

"Well… did you give it to him?" John asked.

"I did not -give- him anything. He earned that magic coin. He passed my test." Rowan said emphatically.

"Give, earn… it doesn't make any difference to me. As long as he got the coin." John said.

"He got it, and I told him to keep it to himself just as you asked." Rowan said.

"Good. Thank you. If the succubus had gotten her hands on it, she would waste it." John said.

Rowan hissed.

"If only I could cast you out of my home…" Rowan said.

"But you can't. You're not powerful enough to throw me out as long as Gracie is here." John said calmly.

"Hmmp. I could try." Rowan scoffed.

"Now as for that little stunt you pulled, trying to keep him here. That was not in the agreement. I wouldn't have allowed you to keep him here. He's got a job to do." John said.

Rowan whirled around and stared daggers at that lanky man.

"What are you? Who are you? Where did you come from? Why do you care about Michael Collins? He's a good person!" Rowan demanded.

"Oh yeah sure, he's a real goody two-shoes. So much so that he's a complete pussy." John said.

"He did waste those Order knights though." Gracie interjected.

"…Yeah… I suppose he did." John said distantly, smiling faintly.

Rowan glanced back and forth between John and Gracie as they chatted, her frustration growing by the second.

"You haven't answered my question!" Rowan exclaimed angrily.

"Look lady, I can't tell you. But… I'll throw you at least one little bone. He's going to be coming back here someday. You can count on it. And he's going to have a lot of questions about your past. So you'd better do a lot of self reflection, because a lot of people are going to suffer if you fuck it up." John said.

"Wha?" Rowan questioned.

"C'mon Gracie, let's bounce. We're done here for now." John said.

"Okay John!" Gracie said cheerfully.

And with that, the duo melted into the shadows and disappeared once again. Rowan turned back towards the window, looking off into the distance.

"Something's changing in the world. Thousands of years go by, and hardly anything happens. Now the world crawls like an ant hill. And in the distance… a shadow looms. What does it mean?" Rowan wondered aloud.

…

..

.

An hour later, Michael hopped off the Blackhawk and quickly hustled away from the whirlwind of dust and twigs flying through the air. He found Stavish, and shook her hand.

"You're late! What happened?" Stavish asked.

"We checked out that floating sky island at check point Delta." Michael explained.

"Damn, you beat me to it. Find anything neat?" Stavish asked.

"Just an old abandoned house, and a ghost living inside it. I'll have to pay her a visit again, one of these days." Michael said.

"Ooooohhhh, spooky~" Stavish joked.

"As spooky as a person with a quick detach head?" Michael asked, smiling.

"True. Anyways, I should probably give you a heads up before you go into the city. Druella is on the warpath." Stavish said.

"Oh yeah?" Michael asked.

"She's planning a big expedition to find you and bring you back. She didn't like you leaving the city the way you did. I swear, she came down here and DEMANDED we give you back, as if we were keeping you prisoner or some shit." Stavish explained.

Michael glanced towards the main gate, and then back to Stavish.

"That probably means I'm going to get jumped as soon as I step inside." Michael reasoned.

"Probably. Thought you should know." Stavish said.

"Thanks. I swear, half the time I have no idea what's crossing that cupcake's mind." Michael muttered.

"Probably not much of anything sir, if you catch my drift." Stavish said.

Michael scoffed. Looking towards the walls, he already saw dark knights staring and pointing at him. They knew he was there.

"Catch you later. Pray for me. I might die." Michael said.

"Death by snu snu? Yeah, that sounds about right." Stavish quipped.

"Oh yeah and before I forget, there's a load of cargo in the bird for you and mcdickwiggle. Make sure you take good care of it, until I make it through the succubomb gauntlet." Michael said.

"Yes sir." Stavish said.

…

Sherry and Alistair managed to catch up to Michael, just as he finished speaking with Stavish.

"Hey Sherry, could you teleport us directly to our house?" Michael asked.

"Nope. The wards on the walls prevent that. We must be inside the walls before teleportation magic would work." Sherry explained.

"Greeeeeat." Michael grumbled.

"What's wrong?" Alistair asked.

"You'll see, just as soon as we enter that gate." Michael said, annoyed.

…

~Five Minutes Later~

…

*THUD!

Michael found himself forced to his knees by the dark knights, right at the feet of none other than Druella herself.

"This is getting old, cupcake." Michael grumbled.

"Release him!" Druella ordered.

The dark knights lifted their hands off his shoulders, and he staggered to his feet. Druella's eyes followed him until he stood at his full height, looming tall over her.

"You know, a fella might get the idea that he isn't welcome around here." Michael said darkly.

"NO! NO NO NO! You're welcome here! This was all a misunderstanding! These fools misunderstood my orders!" Druella exclaimed.

The dark knights all dropped to a knee, bowing their heads to Michael.

"Please forgive us Lord Collins." The dark knights said.

"Yeah yeah it's fine. Just please stop doing that." Michael said, waving his hand.

"You are injured Lord Collins. You cannot be adventuring at a time like this! You must stay here in your home, and let us take care of all your needs until you're entirely recovered!" Druella exclaimed.

She turned and glared at Sherry.

"And what do you think you were doing taking him on an adventure?! Has your brain turned to mush?" Druella exclaimed.

"I'm sorry mistress! He wanted to go, and I can't disobey..." Sherry tried to say.

"Silence!" Druella exclaimed.

...

She took a breath.

"Now that you have returned, all is well." Druella said sweetly.

"I'm fine. That injury is pretty much gone. I'm back to normal, so there's no need to worry about my health." Michael reassured.

"We shall see." Druella said, unconvinced.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to go home and try to get some slee…" Michael tried to say.

"...Come to the mansion and join us for a banquet in celebration of your return!" Druella interrupted.

Michael visibly wilted.

"Sweetie, maybe it would be a good chance to give the mistress all those gifts you brought her." Sherry interjected.

"Gifts?" Druella asked, perking her ears.

"Alright, we'll be there. When do we need to show up?" Michael asked tiredly.

"You could come immediately. I'll tell the maids to lay out a table in my throne room." Druella said.

Druella's eyes drifted away from Michael, over to the people standing behind him. A grin formed on her lips, and her tone of voice became even more honeyed.

"Of course… any companions of Lord Collins are welcome as well. Who do I have the honor of addressing?" Druella asked.

Alistair was the target of her question. He had been silently standing in the background, trying to not lose his cool while Druella and Michael talked. But with her devilish eyes laid directly on him, Alistair's knees began knocking together.

"This is Alistair Grey. He is a close friend and confident of my husband, and the one I entrusted to watch over my subjects while we came to this land." Sherry explained.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir Grey. You are very welcome in this city." Druella said seductively.

"Ttttthankyou!" Alistair stammered.

Druella formed a devilish grin as she gently caressed his cheek with her fingers. He nearly fell to his knees from the shock.

"May we have a chance to make ourselves presentable before coming to the mansion?" Sherry asked.

"Of course, but do not take too long." Druella said, smiling.

…

..

.

After Druella left, Alistair collapsed into a heap.

"Holy shit." Alistair panted.

"She's quite something, isn't she?" Sherry asked.

"That woman is dangerous! She's a walking sex bomb!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Welcome to Lescatie. You've just scraped the surface." Michael said dryly.

Crimson produced a handkerchief and wiped Alistair's mouth.

"You're drooling master." Crimson chastised lightly.

"She caught me by surprise. She won't be able to handle me a second time." Alistair insisted.

"Heh! That's big talk coming from you! We've got ourselves a Hugh Hefner wannabe in our party!" Michael joked.

"Who?" Sherry asked.

"Hugh Hefner was the owner of Playboy magazine." Crimson explained.

"Playboy? Oh now that sounds interesting." Sherry remarked, grinning lewdly.

"Hey Mike, isn't your birthday the same day as Hefner's?" Alistair asked.

"I'm not answering that." Michael said flatly.

"Aww, but when is your birthday?" Sherry asked.

"I'm not answering that either." Michael repeated.

…

"I will say this though. His birthdays were a lot more fun than mine." Michael said.

And with that, Michael walked away. Alistair nodded knowingly.

"Yep, I was right." Alistair said, grinning.

"Hehehe... you just told me when your birthday is... it's going to be a lot of fun..." Sherry said, grinning lewdly.

…

~Shortly Later~

…

The four of them found their way to Michael and Sherry's new home. Michael flopped into a chair immediately after they got home, while Alistair and Crimson looked around in amazement.

"Wow, this is a posh flat! It's a combination of an aristocrat's house from Europe, and something from Skyrim!" Alistair remarked.

"I'm not a fan of it. I'd rather have my apartment." Michael said.

"Wut!? Really?!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Yeah. It's too much for me. I like smaller places, away from people." Michael said, smiling faintly.

"Oh sweetie, must you be so obstinate?" Sherry asked.

"I'll be better company in the morning. Is there any way we can bail out of this party?" Michael asked.

Sherry blinked several times.

…

"Are you mad? Surely you wouldn't dare to purposefully miss out on one of mistress Druella's parties, now would you? That's madness!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I'm sure she'll be disappointed, but I'm really not in the mood." Michael said.

"Oh nono, that's not it. I mean that her parties are an event you simply cannot miss! They're legendary! It's said that things happen there that are so wondrous, they defy explanation!" Sherry explained.

"Sounds like fun. Tell me all about it when you get back." Michael said.

"That's not an option sweetie. If you don't come, she will send the dark knights to retrieve you. Her will cannot be refused." Sherry warned.

*SNAP!

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry snapped her fingers, and Michael's body was surrounded by a flash of crimson. When the magic cleared, he was all dressed and ready to go to a party with his nicest clothes.

"Damn it." Michael grumbled.

…

~Shortly Later~

…

The four of them found their way over to the Lescatie family mansion. Alistair's eyes were wide and filled with wonder as he gazed upon it for the very first time.

"You look excited master." Crimson noted.

Alistair simply nodded. He was at a complete loss for words.

"How does anyone describe what it's like being here? It'd be like trying to describe being able to visit the actual bridge of the starship Enterprise, or maybe visiting Rivendell in Lord of the Rings. It's our fantasy come true." Michael said.

They made their way through the mansion, where they were escorted into the throne room by two dark knights. Oddly enough, one of the dark knights was wearing a funny hat, and the other had confetti all over her horns. Even before walking inside, music could be heard through the door. The moment Michael laid eyes on the party goers, his pelvis began to groan. Just about every species of monster girl was inside, and they all turned and looked at him the moment he arrived. Alistair and Michael were literally the only two men in the entire party.

"Two men gonna die tonight!" Michael thought.

"Lord Collins! Lord Grey! Welcome!" Druella greeted cheerfully.

Druella came from absolutely out of nowhere and blind sided the two men before they even had a chance to register the lewd eyes which were staring at them. A roper maid appeared who was wearing absolutely nothing at all other than a stereotypical maid hairpiece and a smile, while carrying a tray with wine goblets on top. Michael and party each took one.

"Lord Grey brought a gift for you mistress." Sherry said.

"Oh?" Druella questioned.

Alistair nervously produced a box of candy. Specifically, they were 5th Avenue candy bars.

"Oh! A human delicacy I presume? How interesting!" Druella remarked.

Opening the top of the box, he offered one to Druella. Michael looked at Alistair sideways.

"What, are you Daniel Jackson now?" Michael whispered.

"Yeah, something like that~" Alistiar whispered, smiling.

*CHOMP

...

Everyone waited with bated breath as Druella chewed a large chunk of that crunchy candy bar.

"If she says Bunny Way... I'm going to lose my mind." Michael thought.

"...It's quite good! I shall share these amongst the people here at the party! Thank you Lord Grey!" Druella said cheerfully.

And with that, Druella turned and started handing out candy bars to all the party goers. Before long, Michael and Alistair found themselves roped into mingling with the other people. Inma of every size and disposition were casually chatting with the two men. To Alistair's credit, his nervousness soon faded and he found himself chatting away with the ladies regardless of the topic. Even when the topic turned lewd, he still smoothly chatted away. That awesome British accent of his was an immediate attention grabber. It turned out that he was doing quite well. Michael on the other hand... found himself wishing he could turn invisible.

"These people seem nice enough, but I still need to be on guard. I don't want to run into any Christine type people. She was nice at first too." Michael thought.

...

"Of course on the other hand, I have Sherry with me. She's sticking to me like glue. So maybe I can relax and enjoy myself a little." Michael thought.

As he took a drink of wine and surveyed the room, he spotted a figure walking towards him. It was a succubus, and she seemed familiar somehow.

"Greetings Lord Collins!" The succubus said.

"Hey. Have we met before?" Michael asked.

"Yes sire. You helped me by singing and playing music for those Order knights some time back. You sang a song about a tin soldier?" The succubus reminded.

"OH! Now I remember! Yeah! Well... this is my wife." Michael introduced.

"A pleasure. My name is Searraigh." Sherry said.

"I know of you Knight. Your reputation precedes you. We have all been anxiously waiting for your return with the fabled Michael Collins." The succubus said.

"Fabled?" Sherry asked.

"Oh yes! Tales of the love story that has bridged worlds has been a popular request in my circles. You would not believe the ridiculous songs some have thought up to tell it." The succubus explained.

She formed a devilish grin, and turned her glinting eyes towards Michael.

"Speaking of songs, as you can see... my troupe has been asked to perform here at Druella's party. What would it take to get you to come over and sing for us?" The succubus asked.

"Oh no way I couldn't..." Michael trailed off.

"He'd love to. Please, lead the way." Sherry interrupted.

Michael immediately shot Sherry a look, which prompted her to lean in and whisper in his ear.

"You'll be fine. If mistress Druella hears one second of your singing voice, she might want to marry you." Sherry whispered.

"Stop it~!" Michael whispered, chuckling.

Sherry caught his arm and half dragged him over to where the musicians were performing. As soon as he drew close, the succubus tossed a lute into his hands. People started turning their heads and looking his way, which made a shiver of excitement shoot through his chest.

"Lord Collins? Are you going to perform something for us?" Druella asked.

"I really don't want to, but I guess I've gotten roped into it." Michael said sheepishly.

"Wonderful!" Druella exclaimed, clapping lightly.

"Although I don't know any of your local tunes, and these musicians won't know anything I know..." Michael murmured.

He felt a tug on his sleeve, and he turned around. A little succubus girl, not much older than ten, was tugging on his sleeve.

"Mister? If you set a tone, I can follow along." The girl said.

She held up a violin, making Michael's eyebrows raise.

"Anything?" Michael asked.

"Mmmhmm! That's my magic power. I can see the patterns in things." The girl said.

"We all can. That's why we're in this line of work." The succubus said.

"Alright! Then I guess we can play something for real!" Michael said cheerfully.

He found a bench seat to sit on, and he sat the lute in his lap. Sherry sat down next to him.

"But... what to sing?" Michael wondered quietly.

"Sing a love song. They'll adore that." Sherry said.

"Agreed. That's a safe bet with this crowd." The succubus interjected.

"Understood." Michael said.

He strummed the lute a few times to remind himself where all the strings were, and he cleared his throat. People began going silent, all curious what that strange man from another world was about to sing. Certainly something new and exotic, they guessed. The tune of Mel Carter's rendition of ~Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me~ played like a record in his mind.

"Ready? Dat tat tat... Dat tat tat... Dat tat tat..." Michael said, setting the beat.

~Hold me! Hold me!

Never let me go

Until you've told me, told me

What I want to know

And just hold me, hold me

Make me tell you I'm in love with you!

Thrill Me! Thrill Me!

Walk me down the lane where shadows will be, will be

Hiding lovers just the same as we'll be, we'll be

When you make me tell you I love you!

They told me, "Be sensible with your new love,

Don't be fooled thinking this is the last you'll find"

But they never stood in the dark with you, love

When you take me in your arms

And drive me slowly out of my mind!

Kiss me! Kiss me!

And when you do, I know that you will

Miss me, miss me

If we ever say adieu,

So kiss me, kiss me

Make me tell you I'm in love with you!

Kiss me! Kiss me!

And when you do, I know that you will

Miss me, miss me

If we ever say adieu,

So kiss me, kiss me

Make me tell you I'm in love with you!

Never Never Never let me go!

Never Never Never let me go!~

The whole party broke into thunderous applause as soon as Michael finished singing. The troupe of musicians were in awe over what they had just played. His voice resonated in their very souls, moving them to tears of joy. And Sherry was the most affected by the music, because Michael had looked her right in the eye during the whole song. He wasn't singing to the crowd, he was singing to her. Michael mouthed the words... kiss me... silently one last time.

*SMOOCH!

There was no hesitation, Sherry was more than happy to oblige. The troupe resumed playing their usual tunes as Sherry and Michael kissed. In the corner of Michael's vision, he could see Druella appear with a wine goblet in hand.

"Don't let me interrupt." Druella said.

Michael pulled away from Sherry and cleared his throat.

"I uh... yes?" Michael stammered.

"Hahahaha~ Succubus caught your tongue?" Druella laughed.

"Pardon me mistress. Was there something you wished to ask?" Sherry asked.

"Indeed! I wanted to say... that was lovely singing Michael. If you're not careful, I might have you become my official court musician." Druella said.

"That reminds me! I brought you something from the other world." Michael recalled.

He turned to Sherry, who was already pulling it out of her pocket dimension. It was a wooden box with a metal clasp on the front. He turned and handed it to Druella.

"It's something I put together for you. I hope you like it." Michael said.

Druella lifted the lid of the box, and looked inside. It was an MP3 player attached to two compact speakers, permanently plugged into a hidden power system in the box. Stuck to the inside lid of the box was a sheet of paper with step by step instructions on how to use the box. It was all neat and well put together, and clearly well thought out.

"See here if you press this, music will play." Michael explained.

Druella's nailed finger pressed the play button, and The Byrd's ~Turn Turn Turn~ came out the speakers. People began to gather around the music box.

"Amazing! To hear the voices of singers from another world, and out of a box that fits in my hands!" Druella marveled.

She let the music play while she read Michael's simple instructions. It wasn't hard for her to figure out how to change the volume, choose songs, or turn it off entirely. All told, there was around 120 gigabytes of music in that music box, enough to keep her entertained for a very long time. Michael took his music very seriously.

"And when it quits playing, just turn it upside down and leave it in a sunny window for a few hours. There's a thing on the bottom called a solar panel, which absorbs sunlight and turns it into energy." Michael explained.

"Your gift is very generous Lord Collins. Let me pay it back in kind." Druella said.

She snapped her fingers, and another nude maid showed up with a tray. Druella pulled a bottle of wine off the tray, and poured three goblets.

"I've already given your lovely friend Sir Grey a taste of this, so it's time you try it as well. It's wine made from the grapes of the Lescatie mansion vineyard. It's very exclusive." Druella said.

Michael and Sherry both took the offered goblets, and clinked them together with the one Druella was holding.

"Cheers." Michael said.

*Siiiiiiip

"WHOA! This is REALLY good! It's a really dry red wine, with an almost spicy quality to it. It leaves a nice warm feeling in my mouth." Michael remarked.

"I'm glad you like it. Feel free to indulge to your heart's content." Druella said, grinning.

As she said that, more maids began filtering into the room, each one carrying a tray with those bottles of wine. Everyone started cheering.

"We're in luck! It's a rare occasion that mistress Druella will bring out the special wine!" Sherry whispered to Michael.

Michael didn't say anything, he was busy taking another drink of that fantastic wine.

"I heard that her vineyard was blessed by Bacchus herself. It's said that it's blessed liquid can provide even..." Sherry trailed off.

Michael was already pouring himself a second cup, his cheeks rosy and flushed.

"...the largest of people a pleasant drunkenness." Sherry finished.

Shrugging, Sherry lifted her own goblet and joined in on the fun.

...

..

.

The entire party soon devolved into a rowdy mess as people got drunk. Alistair was in the corner making out with Crimson like his life depended on it, all while surrounded by a crowd of inma drunkenly cheering him on. In another area near a side door, a group of four maids were being molested by a mass of tentacles coming in through the door.

"Is that... the tentacles belonging to Roper Queen Francisca?" Michael thought, confused.

In another area, the troupe of musicians had reached a drunken crescendo. Michael realized that their lead singer, a siren, had a tentacle penetrating her from behind while she sang. The musicians used their power to follow the tune set by the singer to provide a cacophony of noises that made Michael's cheeks burn even hotter than what the alcohol was capable of producing. The sights and sounds blurred together into an abstract painting as he got more and more intoxicated. At one point or another, he had to sit down in a chair, lest he fall down. Somehow Sherry wound up in his lap, giggling inanely as her own intoxication progressed.

"Heeey sweetie...~ Play some music for me~ On the ocarina~" Sherry slurred.

"Wha? Sure... why not..." Michael murmured.

Sherry struggled to get her hand between her tits, so Michael ended up reaching in there to get his ocarina. He managed to fish it out, and he brought it up to his lips. It was still warm from her body heat.

*Whiiiiiiistle

All he managed to do was blow one high note, before the force of the exhale made him dizzy. But it didn't matter. It was enough. The whole party came to a crashing halt. Everyone's eyes turned towards him... except for Alistair in the corner who was still busy kissing Crimson's brains out.

"Uh oh! Now've ruve done it!" Sherry slurred.

"I guesh Im miswell keep goin." Michael slurred.

Sherry's eyes downturned, and she started fiddling with something on his chest.

"Whatrs yeh doin?" Michael slurred.

He looked down and noticed Sherry was struggling with something wrapped around his chest. A fleshy tentacle, which was soon joined by some around his legs. Michael had just enough time to let out a surprised grunt before he was yanked out of the chair. The tentacles which had attacked the troupe of musicians were attacking him as well. They tangled around his whole body, and they also managed to grab Sherry in the process. A tentacle wrapped around his wrist, and forced him to bring his Ocarina to his lips. In his drunken state, he didn't know what else to do other than keep playing.

"I likesh this!" Sherry cheered.

And just like that, Michael became the one source of music in the room. Just like had happened to the other musicians, Michael too found himself producing a crazed cacophony of lewd noises from the ocarina, spurred on by the mysterious tentacles manipulating his body.

*Squish

*Squishsquish

The tentacles forced Michael and Sherry's bodies together in a lewd way, like a perverted teenager might do with a set of Barbie and Ken dolls.

*SHRIP!

Sherry's clothes went away in an instant, and were soon followed by most of Michael's clothes. Michael was too drunk to care, and he didn't even notice the increased airflow across his privates. Their bodies were pushed together in just the right way to induce full blown penetrative sex right in the middle of a crowded room. Michael sighed into the ocarina, which produced a flurry of mewls and other suggestive sounds. To those listening, they couldn't tell if he were a man... or if he was actually a siren. They gathered around, drawn closer my the magic of Michael's music. Since the crowd was nearly entirely inma, they began groping and fondling each other, spurred on by Michael's heated tune. It rose in strength and intensity, building up like the pressure of sex until reaching climax.

...

..

.

Meanwhile, in a faraway place...

"What is the meaning of this?"

"What happened to the music?"

"Why is it so uncontrolled and perverted?"

"We've waited all this time for that man to come here, and now the monsters have twisted him!"

"This insult must not go unanswered!"

...

High above the land, high up in the clouds and amongst the sky, a group of angels voiced their protests over Michael's music. Their protests were answered by the words of a kind but powerful goddess with golden hair.

"Do not fret my precious ones. Be patient. You will get the music you so desire. The inma will toy with him and have their fun, but ultimately he will be ours. We must simply wait for our ~representative~ to act."

"But goddess! We could all go down there and take him right now! They can't stop all of us! Why must we wait?"

"Because, I have decreed it. Now go back to your lutes and ambrosia, and leave that man to me."

...

..

.

~The Next Morning~

.

..

...

Michael's eyes cracked open slowly the next morning. From what he could see of the ceiling, they were back in their Lescatie home's bedroom. He felt soft weight pressing against his side, which began to move in response to his awaking.

"Hmmm, you're rather good in bed... ~sweetie~..." Druella said seductively.

"GAAAAH!" Michael shouted.

And then... Michael woke up for real. He shot straight up in the bed, sweat pouring from his brow. It wasn't Druella at his side after all. Sherry clung to his arm, awoken by his rapid movement and loud cry.

"Sweetie! Did you have another nightmare?!" Sherry exclaimed.

*Sigh...

*POMF

He flopped back on the pillow, groaning. Sherry looked him over with deeply concerned eyes.

"Yeah, but it wasn't too bad this time." Michael murmured.

"What was it about?" Sherry asked, worried.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just go back to sleep. I'm sorry." Michael said.

He rolled over and put his back to her, and closed his eyes. He wasn't about to go back to sleep any time soon, but at least he could put up appearances.

...

Without saying a word, Sherry slid her legs off the side of the bed and got up to leave.

...

..

.

Later, Michael himself rolled out of bed and got up. He threw some wrinkled clothes on, and shuffled out towards the kitchen. He could smell coffee, and that was enough to make him want to get up. When he got there, he found Alistair sitting at the table.

"How do Mike!" Alistair greeted cheerfully.

"Morning Al. I'm doing okay. At least I'm not hung over." Michael said groggily.

"You sure seemed to have a good time." Alistair noted.

"I don't even want to go there this morning. Not until I've had coffee." Michael said flatly.

He sank into one of the empty chairs, and let out a big yawn. A cup of coffee appeared in front of him, courtesy of Crimson.

"Thanks, but you shouldn't have to be making anything. You two are guests." Michael said.

"I didn't make it. Some crazy looking French ghost showed up and made it." Crimson said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you two about her. She's the maid." Michael said.

"Wild. I bet she doesn't ever have to worry about aching feet after working all day in heels." Crimson said.

She turned and poured Alistair more coffee. He raised his mug.

"Ta!" Alistair said, smiling.

"What would you two like for breakfast?" Crimson asked.

"Some bacon and eggs sounds wonderful luv." Alistair said.

"Hey, I can't argue with that. But could you make my eggs into an omelette? With some mushrooms and tomato, and anything else you can scavenge up?" Michael asked.

"Oh! Mine too!" Alistair cheered.

"Okay okay, I'll put the order in! Chef ghost, I hope you're ready!" Crimson said, chuckling.

...

..

A while later, the front door to the house opened and Sherry stepped inside. She went to the kitchen, and found everyone eating breakfast.

"Good morning." Michael said.

"Good morning my love. I have need of your assistance with something of the utmost importance." Sherry said.

"Just as soon as I finish this." Michael said.

"I'm already finished. Could I help?" Alistair offered.

"That's kind of you Sir Grey, but I need my husband specifically." Sherry said.

Michael took a few more big bites to polish off the last of his food, wiped his mouth, chugged his coffee, and got up to go with Sherry. She escorted him back out of the house.

...

..

.

The duo wound up in the market district of Lescatie, walking amongst the stalls of the merchants loudly trying to sell their wares. It was bright and cheerful, with smiles aplenty and quality products filling the displays. Sherry walked past all of them, and headed towards one of the more permanent shops. As they got closer, Michael tried to read the sign that signified the name of the shop.

"It's in that monster girl language. I can't read it." Michael thought.

He began to slow his feet down around the time they reached the door. Sherry tugged on his wrist, trying to urge him onward.

"So what's inside?" Michael asked.

"A very dear friend of mine. She is the leader of a special guild of mages." Sherry said.

"What kind of mages?" Michael asked.

"You'll see in a moment. It's hard to describe. It's quicker just to show you." Sherry said evasively.

She opened the door and practically dragged him inside.

*CLICK!

The door shut behind them, bathing them in darkness. By then Michael was starting to freak out, so he tried turning around to go back out the door. Sherry gave him a powerful shove, and he flailed as he tumbled into the darkness.

*Schlip

...

"I have him. You may sit down now." A voice said.

Sherry's succubus eyes allowed her to find a chair in that dark shop, where she settled down and placed her hands in her lap. A few moments later, a magical lantern was illuminated. Michael was in a mass of writhing tentacles. One of which... was penetrated deeply in his ear. Sherry had lead him directly into a trap, and he was helpless under the control of a mindflayer of untold power.

"Now tell me again my old friend, what was it you needed me to do to his mind?" The mindflayer guildmaster asked.

"An unguilded mindflayer attacked him, and altered him in ways I do not like. He's even been having nightmares ever since. I hope that you will undo the damage. I will pay you handsomely." Sherry explained.

"Tch... those damned wild ones are always causing problems. If they just followed the rules, everyone would be much better off, and have healthier minds as well." The mindflayer guildmaster grumbled.

The mindflayer penetrated deep into Michael's mind, probing and prodding her way into his deepest darkest private thoughts.

...

Several long minutes passed.

...

"Is there any hope?" Sherry asked softly.

The mindflayer guildmaster sighed.

"I see much damage in this poor man's mind. I don't even know where to begin. He's been hurt so many times, and he's in pain. Let me dig a little further." The mindflayer guildmaster said reluctantly.

Sherry waited, just barely able to restrain herself.

"I've found the changes the other mindflayer did to his mind. If I try to undo this, he will certainly go crazy from the pressure. What a mess. There's a lot of half baked affirmations, conflicting information, and... and..." The mindflayer guildmaster trailed off.

...

"You... little wench!" The mindflayer guildmaster exclaimed angrily.

"Excuse me?" Sherry asked.

The mindflayer withdrew her tentacle from Michael's mind, and let him slide to the floor. He was quite unconscious. She produced a sack of coins, and dropped them in Sherry's hands.

"Take your deposit and get out of here! I don't want your business!" The mindflayer guildmaster hissed.

"But... why not?" Sherry asked.

"You ask that after what you did to him!?" The mindflayer guildmaster exclaimed.

Sherry's whole head hung low.

"Even the most violent minotaur or ogre would never do that to their husband! What were you thinking? Or were you thinking at all!?" The mindflayer guildmaster asked angrily.

"But I'm trying to make it right! Why must you scorn me so? I thought we were friends!" Sherry asked meekly.

"Be GONE!" The mindflayer guildmaster boomed.

...

~Later~

...

Sherry carried Michael out of the mindflayer guild building, and sat him down on a nearby park bench. A purple leafed tree with pink flowers provided some shade as Sherry hugged him. A tear fell from her eyes.

"I'm sorry sweetie. I'm sorry I'm such a horrible wife. I cannot believe it was me who did those things. But I can't have you hating me. I'll keep you, no matter the cost." Sherry thought.

She held her hand against the back of his head, and began casting a powerful spell. Michael's eyes slowly started to open, and his irises were ringed with crimson.

"I command thee... as my familiar... to follow me." Sherry said.

She stood up, and Michael followed her as commanded. There was no light in his eyes, he was still technically unconscious. But her magic allowed his body to move around under her control.

"We'll walk around the market, and I'll pretend we never went to that mindflayer. I was foolish to think she would help me. Why should she? Why should anyone help the former hero?" Sherry thought, wincing in pain.

...

When Michael came to his senses, he found himself standing in front of one of the outdoor stalls in the market. Sherry was in front of him, purchasing something from the vendor. He swayed, and rubbed his forehead.

"Wh...what?" Michael murmured.

Sherry handed over some coins, and thanked the merchant. She turned around with a basket of fruits and other sundry groceries cradled in her slender arms.

"Is something the matter sweetie?" Sherry asked innocently.

"Yeah. When did we get here? I thought we were going to go see some other merchant." Michael asked, confused.

"No we weren't sweetie. I wanted your company while I purchased our food for tonight. Surely you remember picking your own steak?" Sherry lied.

She showed him some wrapped meats, one of which she pointed out as his. It was just the kind of steak Michael would pick, with a nice crown of fat along one edge.

"Oh..." Michael said, confused.

Sherry said something else, but Michael wasn't paying attention too well. His head was throbbing and he was having trouble focusing.

"Sweetie?" Sherry questioned.

"I need to sit down. I don't feel right." Michael murmured.

"We're just about done here sweetie. Can you keep going for a little while longer? I'll take you straight home." Sherry suggested.

"Okay." Michael said quietly.

...

~Later~

...

Michael landed in one of the chairs back at their Lescatie home, and Sherry sat in his lap.

"How are you feeling?" Sherry asked.

"I don't know. It's really strange, like I'm coming down with something. I think I'll be alright though, I just need to rest a while." Michael explained.

*Smooch~

Sherry kissed him right on the lips.

"There. Now you'll be just fine~" Sherry said, smiling warmly.

"Did you cast a spell or something?" Michael asked.

"No, just the healing power of love." Sherry said.

*Knockknockknock

"Oh my, what terrible timing as always." Sherry lamented.

Sherry got up and went to answer the door. Michael listened as she greeted their guest.

"Hello, how may I help you?" Sherry asked.

The other voice was too soft to hear from where Michael was sitting.

"He's my husband. Would you like to come in?" Sherry asked.

...

"Of course. He told me all about it." Sherry said.

...

Sherry escorted their guest to where Michael was sitting. It was none other than Zellie the Gremlin.

"Hello Michael! I came over as soon as I heard you were back in the city." Zellie said cheerfully.

"Because you're excited for your new car?" Michael asked, smiling.

"Absolutely! I've been dreaming about it nonstop since we made the deal! To think... I'll get to play with mekanisms from another world!" Zellie said enthusiastically.

Her smile faded a little.

"You did bring it... right?" Zellie asked.

"Yeah I brought it. No worries. I think you'll really like what I got for you. We put a lot of hard work into it." Michael said.

Her smile returned in spades.

"Can I see?" Zellie asked enthusiastically.

"Sure. Let me get the oomph to get up." Michael said kindly.

...

..

.

So they wound up standing outside their home, next to where the Duster was usually parked. Sherry produced both cars from her pocket dimension, and used her magic to make them grow to full size once again. Zellie's eyes lit up at the sight of her new car.

"This is a 1972 AMC... Gremlin." Michael said, smiling.

"They named a mekanism after my people?!" Zellie exclaimed.

"Yeah something like that. Go ahead, check it out." Michael said, chuckling.

So Zellie began crawling all over the car, peering into every little crack and crevasse with the excitement of a five year old on Christmas morning. Sherry leaned in and whispered in Michael's ear while the little Gremlin was distracted.

"Sweetie, are you sure you should be standing right now? You said you weren't feeling well." Sherry asked quietly.

"It's okay. I can handle this. I had a few minutes to get my second wind." Michael whispered.

While this was going on, Alistair and Crimson strolled up from across the street. They had been touring the city, and were just returning home.

"What's up mate?" Alistair asked.

"Hey maple man, good timing. Here's someone I think you'll want to meet." Michael said, smiling.

He gestured to Zellie, who was so distracted with the car that she didn't even notice them talking. Alistair's eyes widened.

"Ohh... she's so kawaii~" Alistair said softly.

Michael chuckled.

"I know that word." Sherry said distantly.

...

"Well Al? Go on, introduce yourself." Michael said.

Alistair immediately started shaking his head.

"No no no, that's impossible." Alistair said quietly.

"Don't be shy Sir Grey, you should pursue that which you desire!" Sherry encouraged softly.

Alistair kept shaking his head side to side.

"You know Al, Desdemona isn't going to be around every single time you run across someone on your list. And you don't need her." Michael said quietly.

"He's right. You can steal the heart of anyone you want all on your own. I know you can." Sherry encouraged quietly.

...

"Michael? Why is your mekanism larger than mine?" Zellie asked.

"Well... I thought it would suit your size a little better. What point would it be if you were too small to drive it?" Michael explained.

Zellie nodded in agreement, and glanced back at them. It was then that she noticed Alistair and Crimson standing there.

"Oh! Hello! Who might you be?" Zellie asked.

Before anyone could so much as open their mouths to reply, Alistair blurted out his answer with the tension of a watch spring exploding out of a watch case.

"I'm Alistair Grey and I'm sexually attracted to Gremlins!" Alistair blurted.

Michael facepalmed, Sherry's eyes glinted mischievously, and Crimson shook her head. Very little emotion changed at all on Zellie's face.

"Oh that's nice! I am too!" Zellie exclaimed.

...

..

"Wut?" Alistair grunted.

"Well, I am one after all. Anyways, so when would you like to come by and get your share of the bargain Michael?" Zellie asked.

Michael hesitated a moment, taken aback by the turn of events.

"Um... sure. Any time." Michael said.

"Then why don't you give me an hour to straighten things out with the higher ups, and then I'll come back?" Zellie suggested.

"Sounds fine to me." Michael said.

And with that, Zellie nodded and sauntered off towards the Gremlin facility. After she was gone, everyone turned to Alistair. He was shaking and as white as a sheet of paper.

"You alright maple man?" Michael asked.

"She... I... She..." Alistair stammered.

"Now I see why you never actually ask anyone out on your own." Crimson said dryly.

"It's rough when a monster girl says no, but it's alright. You'll have better luck next time." Michael said.

...

They glanced towards Sherry, who hadn't said anything yet.

"Fools. You give up so easily. Go find her, rip her clothes off, and pound her ragged!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Yeah no. I'm not going to prison. I like life too much." Alistair refused flatly.

"You won't go to prison! It's how we do things here!" Sherry exclaimed, frustrated.

"Yeah no. He's not going to prison. He likes life too much." Michael said flatly.

"Gah! You humans are intolerable! It makes me want to... to..." Sherry trailed off.

"To what?" Michael asked.

"Never mind. It's not important." Sherry said quietly.

"I was going to say... conquer all of humanity and force them to change their laws. But then... I'm already doing that. So if those laws still exist, it's my fault..." Sherry thought.

"Still though, I'm worried that you're pushing yourself again. I've already been berated once by my mistress. I dare not earn her wrath a second time." Sherry said.

"Well, you could go over to the gremlin facility and carefully reverse engineer that automaton." Michael said.

"M... me?" Sherry asked meekly.

"Yep! Make sure you're reeeeeeealy careful with all the delicate circuitry inside, or you'll destroy it. After all, we did painstakingly restore that gremlin solely for that automaton." Michael said, grinning evilly.

"But I don't know the first thing about any of that nonsense! Fine... you may go." Sherry relented.

...

~One Hour Later~

...

*Knockknockknock

Sherry opened the door to their Lescatie home, and permitted Zellie to enter once again. She was escorted through the house, where she found Michael and Alistair hard at work rigging up an electrical service in one of the side rooms.

"Okay maple man, what does the voltage say for the solar panels?" Michael asked.

"Two hundred and eighty volts." Alistair said, reading the multimeter.

"Good. That's the open circuit voltage, and it's in spec for the charge controller. Plug it in while I finish stringing these light wires up." Michael said.

"Brilliant! To think... solar panels work even in a dark demon realm!" Alistair remarked.

"I guess that's magic for you. As far as I can tell, there's minimal if any loss from the demonic energy clouds." Michael said.

"So that means we get to make the neighbors go bonkers when we blast Metallica tonight?" Alistair asked.

"Hehe, hell yes. Why else would you install electricity in your house?" Michael laughed evilly.

"Ride The Lightning~" Alistair sang.

"But only the old school stuff. I don't play any of the new crap." Michael said.

"Right-o." Alistair said cheerfully.

...

"Sweetie? We have a guest." Sherry interjected.

Michael looked down from the ladder he was standing on.

"Oh! Hey Zellie! Has it been an hour already?" Michael asked.

"Actually, I'm late. What are you doing?" Zellie asked.

"We're installing electricity into this house. Sherry told me those magical lanterns are actually pretty expensive, and I think it's too dark in here." Michael said.

"He's going to harness the power of the sun!" Sherry remarked excitedly.

"Really?! You can do that?!" Zellie exclaimed.

"Sure. You'll find a book about it in the trunk of the Gremlin, right next to the oscilloscope I'm going to give you." Michael explained.

Zellie gasped.

"You're so generous!" Zellie marveled.

Right on cue, Alistair threw a switch.

*CLICK

A lamp with an LED bulb inside flicked on and illuminated the room nicely. Zellie cooed in wonder.

"I have to say Mike, you've got some interesting taste in aesthetics. Are these light switches Bakelite?" Alistair asked.

"Yep, those are reproductions of Bakelite switches from the early 20th century. And yes, that is reproduction cloth covered wire too. I thought it would look better in this old house. Don't worry, it's got all the modern safety features." Michael explained.

"Noice. It reminds me of some flats I saw in England when I was at uni." Alistair said.

"Right? That's exactly what I was aiming for, it fits with the house. Well, anyways, so... I guess I'm ready to go. Put some beer in the fridge, and don't put on Metallica without me." Michael said.

...

..

Shortly later, Michael found himself standing in the Gremlin facility, facing a duo of doors. The door on the right was the door which lead to Zellie's workshop. The door on the left...

"Hold your breath, make a wish, count to three. Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination~." Michael thought, singing inside.

He stepped through the left door, and immediately noticed how much cleaner things were. Zellie was right by the door with a broom and dust pan in hand.

"I organized and cleaned up. If you're going to use this as your workshop, it's always better to be tidy." Zellie explained.

"That's appreciated." Michael said.

"I also pulled out a bunch of diagrams for you to reference. They're copies, so you can keep them." Zellie said.

"And again, thanks." Michael said.

"I'll be next door in my workshop if you need anything. I have plenty things to play with now, thanks to you~" Zellie sang.

"I tried to fill the trunk up with a variety of books, just like I promised." Michael said.

"Of course, but I'm especially interested in those meckanisms you put in there. I feel like I'll be busy for years!" Zellie exclaimed.

"Hopefully not too busy. Make sure you take a little time to go have fun. Especially in that new car of yours." Michael said, winking.

"I promise." Zellie said cutely.

And with that, Michael was left alone in the workshop. He walked over to the warded glass case, and lifted the delicate latch on the door. Then he carefully removed each piece of the automaton, and laid it out on the workbench into a humanoid shape. Then he un-slung a carry bag from his shoulder, which contained tools and equipment he had brought specially for the automaton project. There was a camera tripod and microphone which would prove to be vital for what he had planned. Setting it all up, he aimed the camera at the workbench.

*Beepbeep

"Hey there, this is the Automaton project, part one. I'm going to be reassembling this automaton you see before you, and recording the process along the way. I'm mostly making this video for myself, so I can reference it should I make a mistake, or if I need to look up something later. My goal is to get this girl assembled so I can move her safely back to my house... and ultimately back to earth." Michael explained at length.

He started with the legs, by picking up a calf and peering into the knee joint.

"It seems that the designers of this automaton were trying to imitate human joints. Although I'm not sure if parts are missing, because there's no soft material to go between the joints. It's just a metal half sphere shape butting up against another metal half sphere shape." Michael observed.

He tried putting the knee back together, and it pushed itself apart.

"It's magnetic! But the magnet poles are opposing, so it pushes itself apart. Interesting! Instead of having a physical substance between the two joints that wears out, it uses the force of magnetism to cushion the pieces. That's brilliant!" Michael remarked.

With that figured out, he then focused his attention on the rest of the leg. He pulled out a powerful magnifying glass.

"It seems the designers also tried imitating the human muscle and ligament system as well. The automaton doesn't use servos or hydraulics to move. It seems to use some sort of synthetic fiber strands in big bundles, serving the role of muscle. It's quite interesting that they wanted to imitate the human body so much." Michael remarked.

...

"Of course... we're doing the same thing on earth. It's just that the people who made this automaton had materials far more advanced than anything we have. Hopefully I can find a way to reverse engineer this material." Michael said.

...

"Although, that said, they are still relying on wiring and sensors to get information from the limbs. There's bundles of wires here, each wire around the thickness of a human hair. Although, now that I think about it, they probably do that for reliability. If you drop a data packet and lose information, then the main processor might glitch out. So they can't use wireless technology." Michael reasoned.

...

"Dang it, I got off on a tangent. Anyways... back to the knees. I bet if I reattached these ligaments and muscles, the limb would stay together..." Michael said.

*Clickclickclickclick

The whole limb clicked together rapidly. Michael tried tugging on one of the connections experimentally. It didn't budge.

"I bet these automatons would be far tougher than a human. Even if you exposed this joint to enough force to blow it apart, it was probably designed to come apart on purpose in order to absorb the excessive force. Sometimes making something too strong makes it easier to break beyond repair." Michael reasoned.

...

"Here's something of note. This automaton design incorporates toes. If I recall, typical automatons are supposed to have a boot like foot structure. Did they incorporate toes for balance and stability, or did they do it so she would look more human?" Michael mused.

...

"Her hip joint is different than the knee. It isn't a simple half sphere with magnets inside, it's a full blown ball joint that fits into a socket. I see a clasp system, to retain the ball on her hip piece." Michael observed.

He put it together, and it practically ripped out of his hand from the magnetic force.

"There's magnets in the hips too. It's keeping the ball perfectly centered, no matter what position I move the hip. I bet this automaton would be very flexible and athletic." Michael mused.

...

"Moving on... the fingers are noteworthy as well. It seems that there aren't any seams. The skin coating on her hands is continuous. I'm not sure how that is accomplished. Over here, the wrist and forearm are connected, and there is no break in the skin. But over here, the wrist and forearm are detached and have a break in the skin. Is she damaged?" Michael wondered.

...

"It's possible the gremlins did that, but it seems too clean a cut. Maybe there's a seam on this other one, and I'm just not seeing it under my magnifying glass." Michael said.

...

"Back to the fingers. It seems they have a similar range of motion to a human. Let me test that..." Michael said.

He carefully bent the fingers around, trying not to damage anything by cranking on them too hard. Then he experimentally flexed and bent his own fingers to compare.

"Hmm... at least as flexible if not more. I have pretty flexible fingers, and it seems like she's a little better. I wonder if she would make a good typist." Michael mused.

...

"And now the head. I have a couple small observations about it. Other automatons have a jewel like structure on their foreheads, but it's absent here. I don't know what that means, perhaps it's missing or perhaps this model never had it." Michael observed.

...

"She also has lovely blue eyes. As I look at them, they are clearly not the eyes of a human. But they're fascinating none the less. I don't find them unappealing, they're just different. I'm pretty sure there's a camera package in there somewhere, but it's not immediately obvious from the outside." Michael said.

...

"She's also got the steam punk horns like the MGE version, which is pretty cool. All in all, she looks far more human than a normal automaton. I'm very impressed." Michael noted.

...

"Regarding her spine... well... she doesn't have one. It seems her head unit clicks into some sort of flexible assembly that has a skin layer over it. I would be very curious to see if she could imitate eating and drinking like a human, even if she doesn't need it." Michael noted.

...

~Several Hours Later~

...

"Hey Michael, how is it going in here?" Zellie asked.

Michael straightened from his hunched over position on the workbench, his back creaking.

"Ooooohhhh... big stretch~... Hey Zellie. It's coming." Michael said, stretching.

She came over to the workbench and looked the automaton over.

"Well, you got her all back together in one piece! That was fast!" Zellie remarked.

"It wasn't actually that hard. Everything is pretty straight forward, even if the connectors are small. Although looking inside that torso is scary as hell." Michael said.

"Her most complex mekanisms are inside her torso, so I'm not surprised you're nervous about it." Zellie said.

...

"So I was meaning to ask you a question. Why does this automaton look different from the others?" Michael asked.

"We... don't know. We've never seen another model quite like her. We think she might be a prototype, or maybe a one-off model for some specific purpose." Zellie said.

"And because she's different... you can't use her parts for other automatons." Michael reasoned.

"Exactly." Zellie said.

"So this trade really works out for everyone. I get to learn about the technology, and you don't lose out on any important parts. Win win." Michael reasoned.

"Right again. If I had given you actual usable automaton parts, I would have had to charge you a lot more than what I did, even with the extras you threw in. And it wouldn't have been my choice either, the mekhanics association would have demanded it." Zellie explained.

Michael nodded in understanding.

"I prefer this. She looks a little more human than the other automatons. From a distance you could be fooled." Michael said.

"But not up close. Not unless you're blind." Zellie said.

"Do you suppose that's why she was created? In an attempt to design a more human looking automaton?" Michael asked.

"It's very possible. Although from what I can tell, it's purely cosmetic. All the functionality is still there." Zellie said.

She sighed deeply.

"Anyways, I was coming in to let you know I'm out of here. Time for me to go get some food and sleep." Zellie said.

"It's that late already?" Michael asked.

"Yeah. It's full pitch-black dark outside." Zellie said.

"Maybe I'd better go home. Sherry's going to want me to be on time for dinner. I'll clean up a bit, and head out too." Michael said.

"Alrighty-oh, see you tomorrow!" Zellie said cheerfully.

Zellie hopped and skipped out of the room. Michael started picking up his tools, and he paused to look down at the automaton laying on the table. Her head was positioned in just the right way to be looking at him. Or more specifically, looking right through him at the ceiling. The way the light was glinting off her eyes almost gave the illusion of tears.

"Poor thing." Michael murmured.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

When Michael shuffled into the front door of their Lescatie house, Sherry was there waiting for him. The moment she laid eyes on him, she was all over him like white on rice. He didn't even get a chance to say hello before she grabbed his head and jammed her tongue in his mouth.

"Mmmph!" Michael cried, muffled.

*THUD!

They landed on the floor, still kissing all the way down. Several long moments later, Sherry broke away panting.

"Hau... hau... ohhh..." Sherry moaned.

"Well aren't you an excited girl. Want to have some fun?" Michael asked, grinning lewdly.

Sherry nodded.

"Yes~" Sherry panted.

"I know another way we could put that lewd mouth of yours to use." Michael said.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael was sitting alone at the dining table, when a dark knight was escorted into the room by the ghost maid.

"What... do you need?" Michael asked hesitantly.

A bead of sweat ran down his brow.

"By the request of Knight Searraigh, we have brought her things from her room in the mansion. May we have permission to leave them in a spare room?" The knight asked.

Michael nodded, his face getting flushed.

"Sure that sounds *gasp... just fine." Michael said, panting.

"Are you well sire?" The dark knight asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Just fine thank you. Could you show her an empty room miss maid?" Michael asked, gritting his teeth.

"Yes monsieur." The ghost maid said.

Just as the ghost maid was about to escort the dark knight away, she held up her gloved hand and made her stop. Suspicion written on her face, she bent down and peeked under the table.

"Wait, don't look under there!" Michael cried.

*slurp

*suuuuuuck

*schlep

Under the table was a certain wet and bothered succubus, frantically sucking on Michael's dick. He had his left hand wrapped firmly around her horn as she bobbed her head on his rod.

"Good girl." The dark knight said.

Michael moaned when he felt a shiver run through Sherry's body. She started sucking even harder.

"Oooohhh crap..." Michael moaned.

His head found the table next to his dinner, which he had barely touched. He felt Sherry wrap her arm around his back so she could pull him in closer. She was deep throating him.

"Craaaaaahhhhhahhhhpppp!" Michael shuddered.

"I must inform mistress Druella. She will be pleased to know that Knight Searraigh is taking good care of your needs." The dark knight said in an official tone.

She turned to walk out.

"Wait! Don't tell Druella strange things like this!" Michael pleaded.

*Thud...

"Crap... she's already gone! Sherry! We need to stop her before... ack!" Michael coughed.

Sherry redoubled her attack on his lower half, as if to say that he wasn't about to be allowed to leave.

"Um... I'll bring your dessert monsieur." The ghost maid said nervously.

And with that, the maid hurried out of the room. The only sound that could be heard after that was a rhythmic sucking sound.

...

Shortly later, the maid reluctantly stepped back into the dining room. Sure enough, Michael was still being lewdly assaulted by Sherry under the table. His face was plastered to the table, and quiet gasps escaped his lips. The maid put some sort of cake in front of him and scurried away.

"Enjoy! Adieu!" The ghost maid said hurriedly.

*click

...

..

.

Michael took a moment to look through the various food items sitting in front of him. The dinner caught his eye.

"Meat pie? I thought it was supposed to be steak." Michael murmured.

All at once, with absolutely no warning whatsoever, Sherry stopped sucking.

"Huh? What's wrong down there?" Michael asked.

An arm appeared from under the table cloth, which grabbed him and yanked him down. He yelped as he hit the floor and was dragged under the table.

*THUD

All the silverware on the table rattled from Sherry bumping into it. She was soaking wet with sweat and love juices, having been playing with herself while she had been sucking on Michael. But that wasn't enough for her anymore, she wanted the real thing.

...

~One Extended Snu Snu Later~

...

*Pant

*Pant

*Pant

Michael's arm appeared from under the table, and he tried to crawl to safety. Sherry grabbed him and yanked him back. The table began shaking again.