The Order of the Chief God

The sun rose that morning, it's blood red rays providing little warmth. It was winter in the desert, and nothing could match the unique sensation of the dry cold in the early morning. Michael sat at the kitchen island, sipping coffee as the blood red streaks came in the window behind him. Sherry sat across from him, likewise sipping on a hot beverage to stave off the cold. Her choice was a nice cup of beautifying herbal tea.

...

They stared at each other silently, peering deep into each other's eyes. Michael's brown eyes, verses Sherry's demonic red eyes.

...

A smile formed on their faces. Contrary to appearances, there was no tension between them. Excitement filled the air that chilly November morning.

"Today... it begins." Sherry said.

"Yeah. Today. I hope it doesn't rain." Michael said.

"Why do you think it will rain sweetie?" Sherry asked.

Michael took a sip of his coffee.

"Red sky in the morning, sailor takes warning. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. We have a red sky this morning." Michael said.

"Oooooh, I see." Sherry said, smiling.

She slid out of her seat and turned towards the stove to stir the scrambled eggs and flip the bacon. The sizzling and scent of bacon was making Michael's mouth water.

"If it starts raining, I'll use my magic to make the rain go elsewhere." Sherry said.

"I'd rather you not. I love the rain. And besides, you need to hold onto your demonic energy if we're going to open the portal." Michael reminded.

"Of course. How silly of me." Sherry giggled.

Michael reached over and filled his coffee mug from a nearby pot of coffee, and then wandered over to his beloved chair. He plopped down, covered himself in a microfiber throw, and clicked on the TV.

*Click

*Click

"Ooo, Star Trek! Eh... it's my least favorite episode though." Michael grumbled.

*Click

*Click

"Pfft. Sports." Michael said.

*Click

*Click

"...strange weather anomaly above the Overton Arm of Lake Mead. Witnesses claim that a inky black mass entered the lake, but officials have detected no change in water contamination levels."

"Old news. Vegas is already a demon realm. I guess they haven't put two and two together." Michael muttered.

*Click

"...at least your mother tipped well! *slap *SLAP *...*Corny soap opera music"

*Click

"...it's the end of the world I tell you! The devils are here already! Repent! REPENT!"

*Click

"...ordered the mobilization of the U.S. Navy's 7th fleet from its base in Okinawa. As US forces take off to combat this new threat of infected, the terrified world watches... and hopes. This is Karl Hynds, WPOR news somewhere in the pacific."

*Click

"While many still believe the transmission from the White House was a hoax, others believe that these Monster Girls might be real."

"Might be? What a retard." Michael murmured.

*Click

"...I saw it as large as life. A woman with horns and a long scaly tail chasing down this man, and knocking cars out of the way. When she finally caught him she... raped... him in the street! I had to cover my kids eyes!"

"Sounds like a Wurm." Sherry said casually from the kitchen.

"I'd hate for my car to be in the way." Michael said.

"It's okay sweetie. If that ever happens, I'll just un-crinkle it like I did that Demon." Sherry said from the kitchen.

*Click

"...in the Japanese government has ordered the detainment and questioning of the author of this Monster Girl Encyclopedia."

Michael leaned forward with interest, taking a sip of his coffee as he did.

"The official report states that when police went to the author's home, Kenkou Cross was nowhere to be found. Contrary to the official report, witnesses describe a group of monster girls confronting the officers about to apprehend the suspect. The Japanese government has made no comment about the incident, but has declared Kenkou to be a suspect at large."

"Leave KC alone! He'd got nothing to do with this! He's just a wicked good artist!" Michael protested.

"Coming now is a special live report from our sister station in Japan..."

"What the... is that a Ryu?" Michael exclaimed.

Sherry peaked around the corner and looked at the TV.

"Indeed. She must be a remarkable woman to have turned into a Ryu all on her own." Sherry remarked.

...

"What do you suppose happened to the author Kenkou Cross? Was he taken by monster girls, or arrested?" The reporter asked.

As the reporter spoke, an interpreter translated it from Japanese to English.

"Master Kenkou and his family has been taken somewhere comfortable and safe from harm. The mistress has so decreed it." The Ryu stated elegantly.

Sherry had a smug look on her face.

"Have you been in contact with this 'mistress'?" The reporter asked.

"I have not had the fortune to meet her in person, however all mamono everywhere know who is responsible for giving us this gift." The ryu said proudly.

"Gift? So you are happy what has happened to you? You don't want to go back?" The reporter asked, surprised.

"Before I became this, I was a two time cancer survivor and about to die from the third relapse. I was bed ridden and sick, but now I am healthy and strong. I have a purpose in life again, and I wouldn't give it up for anything! Even after this interview I must fly to the south and create rain for a village in serious drought." The ryu said.

"Aren't you afraid that the Diet will demand that all monster girls be apprehended? Aren't you afraid to do this interview?" The reporter asked incredulously.

"Not at all. In fact, the girls under my care have already come to an agreement with the local law enforcement. Those men sent for Kenkou were indeed sent by the Diet, but we are convinced we can come to an agreement with them as well. After all... we are all of the same people, and we shouldn't fight amongst ourselves." The ryu said confidently.

On the television the picture changed back to the US news room with three very stunned reporters.

"Well... that was a live interview, and the woman said she knew Searraigh Fontaine. Do you suppose this isn't a hoax?" One reporter asked.

"Possibly, unless this is a hoax on a worldwide scale." A second reporter said.

The first two looked at the third reporter, who sat there tugging on his collar nervously.

"Not sure if I should show this, but I did some digging and found copies of the books. According to them, that was a Ryu we just saw." The third reporter gulped.

He held up the two books for all of them to see. It was the Monster Girl Encyclopedia, edition one and two.

"I heard reports are those things are selling like hot cakes ever since the White House transmission. People want to know what these monster girls are, some so they can avoid them, some so they can... look for them." A second reporter said.

"I've heard that some people have actually dropped everything and gone in search of monster girls after reading the book." One reporter commented.

"Probably because I've had my followers curse every copy they could get their hands on." Sherry interjected.

"The army has put up blockades for their territory, but people keep sneaking in." The third reporter said.

*ClickNirrrrrooooowwww

Michael turned off the TV as Sherry approached with a tray full of food.

"Here you go sweetie, one breakfast made with love~" Sherry cheered.

"Thanks, it smells great!" Michael said happily.

"Make sure you eat up! I'd hate to see your sugar act up again." Sherry said.

"Right." Michael said, nodding.

...

..

*Knockknockknock

"It's an inma." Sherry said instantly.

She smoothly glided over to the door and opened it. It was the danuki banker from Bain Bank and Loan.

"Good morning mistress! What a pleasant portfolio today!" The danuki banker said cheerfully.

"Um... come in." Sherry said, confused.

The danuki banker came inside and greeted Michael in a similar way to how she greeted Sherry. Michael gave her a weird look.

"Don't you mean 'what a pleasant day today'?" Michael asked.

"Oh, I suppose that's nice too." The danuki banker said, shrugging.

Sherry offered her a chair, and she sat down.

"So, I have summoned you here this morn because I have a task for you." Sherry started.

"How can I help?" The danuki banker asked.

"My husband and I are seeking a piece of property here in the city. We are to understand that you have ties to those who dabble in land?" Sherry asked.

"Sure, I can get you just about anything you want. What are you looking for? A four bedroom with a three car garage?" The danuki banker asked.

"We're not looking for a house. We're... looking for something a little more commercial." Michael said.

"Okay, I can do that too. What are you looking for?" The danuki banker asked.

"We need a rather large structure of sound construction." Sherry said.

"It has to be on the main drag, or on a street with good access. A large parking lot is preferred." Michael said.

"It has to have a large ceiling, of at least eighteen feet. More would be better." Sherry said.

"It has to have large truck and car access. If it doesn't already have the doors for it, the place has to be easy to remodel." Michael said.

"And most importantly, it must be somewhere safe." Sherry said.

"We would prefer to own it outright, as opposed to renting." Michael added.

The danuki banker nodded along, taking notes as they spoke.

"May I ask what this building is going to be used for?" The danuki banker asked.

...

"Yeah. Have you ever seen the TV show Stargate SG1?" Michael asked.

"Sure. That's the one where they walk through that big portal ring thing and go to other worlds. It was one of my...favorites in college..." The danuki banker trailed off.

Realization began to dawn on her. Sherry smiled knowingly.

"You understand now. A portal... to another world." Sherry said.

"And craploads of money making opportunities." Michael interjected.

The danuki banker's eyes began to twinkle.

"I'm all over it!" The danuki banker exclaimed excitedly.

She jumped up, pulling her phone out as she walked. By the time she got to the door, the person she was calling had already answered.

"Get me every commercial listing in town! Stat!" The danuki banker ordered.

*CLICK

And with that, she was gone.

"Wow." Michael said.

"Indeed. Wow." Sherry said.

Sherry glanced towards Michael, and then towards his tray of food.

"Don't let it get cold sweetie!" Sherry reminded.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael was just finishing up his breakfast when there was another knock at the door. Before Michael or Sherry could even move, it was followed up by more frantic knocking.

"It's several mamono." Sherry said.

She went to the door and opened it. There were three monster girls on the other side.

"Did we disturb you mistress?" The girls asked.

"Yes, unless it is important." Sherry said.

"It is! Turn on the TV! They're talking about the Michael!" The girls exclaimed.

"What?!" Michael exclaimed.

He grabbed the remote and clicked on his old Zenith television.

"...for attacking a military checkpoint. Anyone with information should call the following number on the screen. Again, the suspect is Michael Collins, Caucasian, over six feet tall, brown hair and brown eyes, and was last seen driving a black Plymouth Duster. License plate..."

Michael slowly pulled the throw over his torso while nervously eyeing those three unknown monster girls in his home.

"...He is considered armed and extremely dangerous, as is his accomplice Searraigh Fontaine." The official reported.

The TV showed a copy of Michael's driver license photograph. All four of them turned and looked at Michael.

"So you three. How do you intend to react to that information?" Michael said coolly.

As he spoke, he very slowly slid his hand under his shirt. None of them noticed.

"What do you mean Mike? Do you want us to do something? You're not making any sense." The girls asked, confused.

...

"Then I'll be as blunt as an atom bomb. Do you plan on calling that phone number?" Michael asked.

"HELL NO! Mike, we'd never do that!" The girls immediately protested.

"Just making sure." Michael said, half smiling.

The three girls looked at each other, and then back at Michael.

"We're on your side Mike. You don't have to worry about us." The girls reassured.

With that, they turned and walked out, closing the door behind them. Michael let out a huge sigh of relief. His hand slipped out of under his shirt.

...

..

Sherry laid her hand on Michael's shoulder, and looked down at him with shaded eyes.

"Why did you ask them such foolish questions?" Sherry asked.

"I don't know those people. They could have done anything." Michael explained.

"Monster girls are beyond reproach! They could never betray you, they came here to warn you!" Sherry argued.

...

"Well it doesn't matter now. The powers-that-be know who I am, which means they know where I live. They're probably on their way here right now." Michael said, shivering.

"Not in my city they are not! You are untouchable here!" Sherry countered.

Sherry paused, and turned towards the front door and window. Tilting her head, she seemed to be listening to something.

"Interesting. Those three were not the only ones to watch that news report." Sherry said.

"Huh?" Michael coughed.

Sherry bent over and snatched his throw off of him.

"Come. See for yourself." Sherry said.

...

..

.

And it was such that Michael and Sherry walked out the front door. Sherry made sure Michael went first, because she suspected that there was quite a few people outside waiting for him. The moment he stepped out the door, he was immediately surrounded. Monster girls squeezed in from every direction. There must have been a dozen of them all crammed onto that semi enclosed porch. And they all reached out and grabbed him.

"Gah!" Michael cried, frightened.

They didn't do anything more than grab him and hold him. There was one particularly large girl in the group, even larger than Michael, who patted his head. It was an Oni.

"It's okay, we ain't gonna hurt ya. We came to check up on ya." The oni said.

"Check on me? But why?" Michael asked.

"We heard them govmint boys's lookin for ya." The oni said.

"Yeah. We just want to make sure you're okay."

"Is there anything you need?"

The outpouring of concern from those inma stabbed Michael straight in the heart. He had never had anyone care about him like that before. Not ever.

...

The group of inma all coaxed Michael to the edge of the enclosed patio, where he could see down to street level. There must have been a hundred or more inma all gathered around the Duster and the stairs leading up to the apartment. All there to check up on him. There were more filtering into the area as the seconds ticked by.

"Speech!"

"Give us a speech!"

Michael craned his neck and looked back towards the door where Sherry was standing. She hadn't even bothered trying to exit the apartment.

"They want a speech." Michael said.

"So give them one! They didn't come here to see me, they came here to see you!" Sherry said, smiling.

Michael turned back to the crowd, his face turning beet red. One of the girls up on the enclosed porch giggled quietly. As Michael looked around at the people down below him, he spotted a few uniformed soldiers in the back of the crowd. Stavish stood among them, and she gave him a casual two fingered salute.

"Hi everyone!" Michael called, uncertain what to say.

"Hi master!" The crowd cheered.

Michael coughed in surprise.

"Master? What the heck?" Michael murmured.

...

"Please don't call me master. I'm nobody's master." Michael announced loudly.

"What should we call you then?"

"How about Mr. Collins?" Michael suggested.

"But we call Searraigh 'mistress'. Isn't that a little weird to just call you Mr. Collins?"

"That's exactly what I am. I am just Mr. Collins. Nothing more, and nothing less. I'm no better than anyone else." Michael insisted.

Stavish nodded in approval. The crowd murmured, both in approval and disapproval.

...

The calls for a speech resumed. Michael turned red again, and his heart started racing.

"Why don'cha tell em what's on yer mind?" The oni suggested.

The oni prodded him in the back, trying to goad him into talking. The crowd murmured, encouraging him to speak. So finally, at long last, Michael blurted out the first thing on his mind.

...

..

.

"Thank you!" Michael cried.

The whole crowd fell silent. Several awkward moments passed. Michael gulped and got his nerves together.

"Thank you for coming today. I already knew the federales were on my tail, but it makes me really happy that you all came here today. It tells me that Sherry and I aren't going at it alone." Michael said loudly.

...

"I've had nightmares about the day when I'll have to pick up a rifle and protect myself from those who think I'm a criminal. I fear this day. I'm always alone in those nightmares. No one ever comes to help me. It's been that way for me for so long, it's hard to imagine any other way." Michael said.

Michael paused, looking across the people listening to him talk. He tilted his head.

...

"I can't help but recall the story of the old Apache chief and his three sons. Have any of you heard that story?" Michael asked loudly.

The crowd shook their heads side to side.

"The story goes that the old Apache chief, who was old and on the verge of death, tasked his medicine man to pick the one son who would become the chief. So the medicine man gathered the three sons in his teepee, and produced a thick bundle of arrows." Michael recalled loudly.

...

"The medicine man said... the son who was strong enough to break the bundle of arrows would become chief. So the first son, the oldest and strongest of the three, took the bundle of arrows and tried to break them. He heaved and grunted, but he never could get those arrows to so much as creak." Michael recalled loudly.

...

"So the second son took his turn, and bent the bundle of arrows over his knee. But no matter how he grunted or how he groaned, he couldn't break that bundle of arrows." Michael recalled loudly.

...

"And then it was the turn of the third son. The youngest, and by far the weakest. But being the weakest of the sons meant he had to make up for his weakness with intelligence. He was by far the wisest of the sons, and he formed a plan after watching his brothers struggle." Michael recalled.

...

"That young Apache took the bundle of arrows, removed the arrows one at a time and snapped them easily. In a minute or two, the whole bundle lay broken on the ground. His brothers accused him of cheating. His answer was thus..." Michael said loudly.

Michael cleared his throat.

"Together, the Apache are strong like a bundle of arrows! But if we become divided, we can easily be picked off and broken like so many twigs! I know this, and that is why I must be chief!" Michael cried.

The crowd nodded in agreement.

...

..

.

"The federales knew this too. So they divided the tribes, weakened them, and conquered them. This doesn't have to happen to us! We can learn from those who came before us!" Michael proclaimed loudly.

There were nods of agreement in the crowd.

"I don't want my nightmare to come true! Not for me, not for you. Not for any of you! We have to stick together! If the federales come here, then don't let them pick you off like individual arrows! Stay safe. Stay alive." Michael called.

There were more nods, and cheers.

"Write your representatives. Or email them if you like. Blow up their inboxes with complaints about how we're being treated! Demand that they represent us, and demand they withdraw their forces from our town!" Michael suggested.

"We tried that, and we still got killed!" Someone shouted.

"Then we'll get on the news! We'll show the world just what's happening here! We'll attack them with publicity! Let the word get out! I want to talk to a reporter! I want everyone to hear what we have to say!" Michael cried.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael found himself once again sitting in his chair in the apartment, with a coffee cup in his hands. It was half empty... not from him drinking it, but from how much splashed out from his shaking hands.

"Holy crap, what did I get myself into?" Michael fretted.

"I thought you did rather well sweetie, considering the circumstances." Sherry said.

She rubbed his shoulders, trying to get him to relax. He was as stiff as a board.

"I'm such an idiot! What the hell was I blubbering on about? What the hell have I done? I can't talk to a freaking reporter!" Michael fretted.

"It would be better if it were you. I believe that my last attempt at swaying the people was rather... unsuccessful." Sherry said.

"No kidding." Michael murmured.

His mind thought back to the recording he had seen of Sherry attacking the White House press conference, and how she had essentially stood at the presidential podium and threatened anyone who dared harm an inma.

"I think that could have been done a little better. Although to be honest... after what the army did to those inma, I don't blame you." Michael said.

...

"Oh who am I kidding. Those people don't care what I have to say. They only care about you. Before you came along, those people wouldn't have given me the time of day!" Michael fretted.

"But they care now, so will you deny them?" Sherry asked.

"I suppose if they're willing to listen to some gringo prattle on about Apache, they'd listen to anything." Michael murmured.

...

*Knockknockknock

Sherry slid away from Michael and went to the door.

"Inma again." Sherry said.

She opened the door and permitted their guests to enter. It was the danuki banker again, and Stavish.

"Welcome! Come in!" Sherry said cheerfully.

The two came on in, and took the seats offered to them.

"You've returned so soon my friend. Has there been any news?" Sherry asked.

"There sure is! I found the ~perfect~ property for you, right here in town!" The danuki banker said.

"What is it?" Michael asked.

"It's that old theater over on Fifth and B. You know the one?" The danuki banker asked.

"Yeah I know that place. It was closed even when I first moved here. I heard it was quite the joint before the recession nailed it." Michael said.

"It was. I remember going there when I was a little girl to see a broadway style production. It was pretty wild, but I think most of us were pretty spoiled by television by then. " The danuki banker said.

"I never went there. Sort of sorry I missed it." Stavish said, shrugging.

...

"Well anyways, the place fits every last one of your criteria. So, I brought the real estate papers with me." The danuki banker said.

"We should probably inspect the building before signing anything sweetie." Sherry suggested.

"Agreed. I haven't seen the place personally, at least recently. So we should inspect it." The danuki banker agreed.

Michael nodded and turned his attention to Stavish.

"So what's new from you?" Michael asked, taking a drink of coffee.

"The army's in town." Stavish said calmly.

*coughCHOKEcoughCOUGH!

"WHAT?!" Michael exclaimed.

"They set up a camp at the veterans park, and they're dug in deep. I'm pretty sure they'll be coming here sometime today. If they aren't already on their way." Stavish said.

"Why the hell didn't you open with that as soon as you got here?!" Michael exclaimed.

Stavish tilted her head.

"Apologies sir, I assumed you already knew." Stavish said evenly.

...

"Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. You're right, I should have known." Michael said quietly.

He sank back into his chair. Sherry leaned closer, her devilish eyes peering closely at him.

"Are you frightened? You look terrified." Sherry observed.

"Of course I am! If the army wanted to screw us up, they could do it with extreme prejudice!" Michael exclaimed.

Stavish nodded in agreement.

...

"But on the other hand, you were right about strength in unity. We're not going to let them touch you sir. We're not going to let them touch anyone." Stavish said.

"Right! I shan't permit it!" Sherry insisted.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I guess I shouldn't whine about talking to a reporter when there's people looking out for me like this." Michael said, smiling.

...

..

.

"I uh... suppose I had better go talk to the owner of that theater, and get the key." The danuki banker said.

"And I must prepare for when we do own that theater. There is much work to be done." Sherry said.

"I've got a couple of things to do too." Michael said.

Everyone looked at Stavish expectantly.

"Well I haven't got anything to do. Anyone need help?" Stavish asked.

"Indeed. Please give my husband some company. I will be busy for a while yet." Sherry said.

"Hey! I'm not going anywhere! Why bother her?" Michael asked.

"It's okay sir. I don't mind. I've been meaning to talk to you anyways." Stavish said.

"So it's settled then. If you'll excuse me sweetie, I must steal your desk." Sherry said.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

*GRRRRRrrrrrrrrr

*Sputter

Michael had grabbed his keys and hopped in the Duster shortly after Sherry took his desk over. Of course Stavish thought he was going somewhere, so she hopped in the passenger seat. But it turned out that Michael wasn't going anywhere at all. He simply moved the Duster deeper inside the apartment complex, to one of the internal parking spots. The engine sputtered silent, and he pulled the parking brake.

"Care to explain this concept sir? I thought we were going somewhere." Stavish asked.

"This makes it where my car can't be seen from the street." Michael explained.

"I get it." Stavish said.

Michael pulled his keys from the ignition and got ready to get out, but Stavish reached across the car and caught his arm.

"Before we go back sir, I wanted to ask you some questions. Away from the mistress." Stavish said.

"Okay?" Michael said, confused.

...

"When you and the mistress came home from Vegas, did anything happen that night?" Stavish asked.

"Hmm... well we did have a problem with those soldiers at the blockade. You were there." Michael recalled.

"After that sir. Did anything happen?" Stavish asked.

She already knew the answer, but she was testing him.

"Not really. Sherry and I spent some alone time together, and then we went to bed." Michael recalled.

"Did anything interesting happen during the trip to Las Vegas?" Stavish asked.

"We did get robbed. That sucked." Michael recalled.

"And how was that resolved?" Stavish asked.

"I dunno. Sherry dealt with it. She probably used magic to get her purse back." Michael said, shrugging.

...

"What's with the third degree?" Michael asked.

"Have you ever gotten in a fight with the mistress?" Stavish asked.

"Never. Now if that's all..." Michael said, annoyed.

Michael grabbed the door handle and got out of the car.

"He doesn't remember a damn thing. Is that a side effect of the mindflayer?" Stavish wondered.

.

..

...

~Shortly Later~

...

..

.

Michael found himself back in the apartment. Sherry was hard at work with his pen and a ream of printer paper. She had a big old leather bound book sitting open in front of her, propped up against the computer monitor.

"Do not disturb me." Sherry warned.

"Okay okay, we're going." Michael said.

And he walked past her, heading towards the bedroom. Stavish followed him.

"Sorry about all the odd questions sir." Stavish said.

"What's the big deal anyways?" Michael asked.

"It's classified sir." Stavish evaded.

"Fine. Be like that." Michael grumbled.

He strolled into the closet... and soon returned with a large rectangular metal tin, much like a giant can of spam.

"If you're feeling energetic, I could use some help loading magazines." Michael said.

Stavish raised an eyebrow. She watched Michael with interest as he used something that looked a lot like a giant P51 can opener on that giant spam can.

*POPhisssssssssss

"Well that's a lot different than the ammo cans we've got in the Army." Stavish remarked.

"Yeah, but they work just fine. I have yet to find a single com bloc cartridge that failed to go bang when I needed it to go bang. And I've fired stuff as old as 1944." Michael said.

He peeled the sharp lid off the tin, revealing the paper wrapped bundles of cartridges inside.

"I'll go grab an arm full of magazines. Be right back." Michael said.

And he disappeared into the closet again. Stavish bent down and pulled one of the paper bundles out of the spam can. Peeling back the paper, she could see the green rim of one of the cartridges.

"Huh. It's those funny looking com-bloc cartridges we saw in the sandbox." Stavish murmured.

...

Michael shuffled into the room and heaved a massive pile of AK74 magazines onto the bed.

"What the hell! Where'd you get all those?!" Stavish asked, shocked.

"Just a little Arab horse trading. No big deal." Michael said knowingly.

"I thought you were supposed to be poor. At least... until the mistress came along." Stavish questioned.

"I was. Luke 22:36... 'he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one'. I went without food, clothes, and basic comforts just to make sure I had my sword." Michael explained.

He gestured to the magazines. Stavish, the normally Army Tough woman, visibly wilted.

"Our thumbs are going to snap off by the time we get through with loading all those." Stavish grumbled.

"That's just what I could carry. I've got more in the closet. And then there's the stripper clips too." Michael said proudly.

"Ugh..." Stavish groaned.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

*Click...click...click

Michael and Stavish thumbed cartridges into magazines.

"So how's the boyfriend?" Michael asked.

"He's doing good sir. Thanks for asking." Stavish said.

...*click...click...click

"For the record, it was Sherry's idea that I load all these magazines. She's been sensing trouble on the horizon. And... she had a bad dream. It's been bugging her all day." Michael said.

"Ah~ okay. That makes sense." Stavish said, smiling.

...*click...click...click

"What was the dream about?" Stavish asked.

"It was a nightmare about being attacked by a bunch of invisible ghosts or some shit." Michael said.

...*click...click...click

"What's she doing out there anyways?" Stavish asked.

"I have no clue, but I've never seen her look so serious before." Michael said.

Michael finished loading a mag, and he slapped the mag against his hand to seat all the cartridges. Then he grabbed the next empty one.

"At least you know how to load a magazine. I knew some shitheads who got deployed to the sandbox who had no fucking idea what the hell a stripper clip was." Stavish said.

"I suppose I would rather have a shithead who didn't know how to load a magazine, than a shithead who couldn't aim." Michael said.

"Like the enemy?" Stavish quipped.

"Yeah." Michael said.

...

"Which by the way, who was your enemy?" Michael asked.

"What do you mean sir?" Stavish asked.

"Well... was it the taliban? Or al qaeda? Or was it isis?" Michael asked.

"All of the above." Stavish said.

Michael shot her a surprised sideways glance.

"And you're just an E4?" Michael asked, shocked.

...

..

"Well... I was a lieutenant, but I got busted down to E1 when an Air Force captain and I got drunk and broke into the rec hall storage room to steal a Nintendo." Stavish said.

"Ho...ly...shit!" Michael exclaimed.

"The worst part of that wasn't getting busted back to private. The worst part was the hangover the next morning, and the chewing out I got from my CO." Stavish recalled.

Michael winced in sympathy.

...*click...click...click...

"Hey, so... just an off the wall question. But since I'm working for you guys now, can I get a raise? Or a promotion?" Stavish quipped.

"Yeah sure why not. I'll just have Sherry promote you to a fifty star general." Michael quipped.

They both broke out laughing.

...

"In all seriousness though, I hated being a lieutenant." Stavish said.

"Because of the obligatory daily CO circle jerk in the shower?" Michael asked.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Yeah! Exactly!" Stavish laughed.

...

..

.

*Knockknockknock

"Uh oh. Someone's at the door again." Michael said.

Michael and Stavish came out of the bedroom just in time to see Sherry open the front door. It was the danuki banker, paying them a third visit.

"I got permission to go see that property, if you guys are all ready." The danuki banker said.

"INDEED! I've had QUITE enough of this for a while!" Sherry exclaimed forcefully.

"You were only working on... that... for fifteen or twenty minutes." Stavish said dryly.

"So?! It felt like hours! I wish to do something else!" Sherry exclaimed, pouting.

Sherry grabbed Michael's arm and practically dragged him out the door.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael pulled the Duster into the parking lot on the corner of 5th and B. The theater was an impressive building, if a little run down. It's reddish exterior resembled the color of tomato soup.

"Well... if there were ever a perfect building for what we need, this is it." Michael said.

He let the Duster sputter silent, and he heaved his body out of the car. Sherry followed him from the passenger seat. Stavish and the danuki banker both hopped out of the banker's higher end luxury SUV. They all collectively approached a set of glass doors with glass windows on either side.

"You suppose we could get a truck through that?" Michael wondered aloud.

"Certainly. I'm sure these windowed walls would be relatively easy to remodel." Sherry said.

"I could have some workers here in no time, if you decide you want to buy it of course." The danuki banker said.

"We could set up a field of fire there, there, and over there. We could lock this whole place down indefinitely." Stavish noted.

"Good. We're going to draw attention here eventually." Michael said.

The danuki banker stepped forward and produced a key, which she tried on the lock.

*Wiggle

*Jiggle

"It's really stiff." The danuki banker said.

*Rattle

*Shake

*Bangbangbang

*RATTLE!

"Oh for goodness sake woman, step aside!" Sherry said, annoyed.

Sherry stepped forward and used a simple spell to unlock the door in two seconds, and she swung the doors open widely.

...

They walked inside the theater. The main entrance was more or less stripped clean of furnishings. Even the carpet was gone.

"Looks like there's a roof leak right there, and they ripped out the carpet to keep it from going moldy." Michael observed.

"Or it DID get moldy and they tore it out." Stavish said.

"Nah. I would tell if there was mold here. I can smell that shit a mile away." Michael reassured.

Stavish shot him a concerned look, but didn't say anything. Sherry walked past that, and past a concession stall that had nothing in it other than cobwebs and dust bunnies. The danuki banker sneezed cutely.

*Creeeeak

Sherry opened the doors to the main theater hall, and they all peeked inside. And all at once, they all collectively gasped.

"Whoa." Everyone said.

It was a grand concert and theater hall, with countless rows of seats descending down an incline to the stage. At the bottom was a music pit. The stage expectedly took the center of attention. Other than that, the place was completely barren... other than heaping mounds of trash and tattered wall paper.

"I bet I can get a better price considering the condition of the building." The danuki banker noted, turning up her nose.

"Looks like master Splinter and his family stayed here for a few... decades." Michael quipped.

They walked down the alley between the seats, and arrived at the stage. The music pit was to their right, and it was full of nasty looking water and trash. The roof had definitely leaked.

"This place just keeps going! There's service corridors and side rooms all over this place!" Michael remarked.

"Indeed. It's quite deceiving how large this place really is." Sherry agreed.

"A GPS would sure help." Stavish quipped.

Sherry marched onto the stage, and walked around the perimeter. She stomped her foot a few times, seemingly testing the sturdiness of the stage. Then she craned her neck, looking upwards towards the ceiling. Then she marched across the center in a plus shape, seemingly pacing out the size of the stage.

"This should work just fine." Sherry said.

She then sat on the edge of the stage and looked upwards towards the back rows of the hall.

"And we could easily get a car in here, if not multiple cars and trucks." Sherry said.

"If we knock out that wall up there." Michael said.

"Of course." Sherry agreed.

...

Sherry snapped her fingers.

"I have decided. My friend... make this place belong to us." Sherry declared.

"Right away mistress. I'll need these papers signed, and we can get the ball rolling." The danuki banker said.

"How soon?" Michael asked.

"Well... typically something like this would take weeks, maybe even months. But I'm going to cram it through and get the deed as fast as possible. It won't happen today, and tomorrow is a holiday. So let's say the day after?" The danuki banker said.

"Sounds fair." Michael said.

She handed the papers to Michael, and he began thumbing through them.

"What holiday?" Sherry asked.

"Thanksgiving." Michael said casually.

He read and signed documents as he spoke.

"Giving thanks for what?" Sherry asked, confused.

"You're supposed to spend the day with your family and throw a party for all the things you're thankful for in your life." Stavish said.

Michael hummed in agreement, filling out papers.

"That sounds like a wonderful holiday! How do you usually celebrate it sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"I buy a turkey and stuffing TV dinner and a bottle of rye whiskey, and I re-watch old war movies." Michael said casually.

...

..

.

Michael looked up from his papers to see the three women staring at him.

"What?" Michael asked.

"That was the single most lame and depressing thing I've ever heard." Stavish said quietly.

"Yeah Mr. Collins. That's really sad." The danuki banker said.

"Whatever. I'm grateful I had anything to eat at all!" Michael retorted.

And with that, he went back to his papers.

"Maybe I'll get the extra fancy TV dinner this year! I'm rich now, I can afford it! Maybe I'll put a slice of Kraft on the mashed potatoes! Name brand and everything!" Michael shot defiantly.

.

..

...

~Later~

...

*Click!

Sherry locked the doors of the theater respectfully as they exited.

"I'll get the deed for you as quickly as possible mistress. Don't you worry." The danuki banker promised.

"Thank you. Your efforts shall be rewarded." Sherry said.

And with that, they all broke up and went their separate ways. The danuki banker drove Stavish back to her unit, while Michael and Sherry hopped into the Duster and took off in another direction.

...

Michael cruised down the street, with Sherry hanging off his arm.

"You really should wear a seat belt." Michael said.

"But the seat belt makes it so I can't be close to you." Sherry pouted.

She leaned in and lewdly kissed the nape of his neck. He didn't protest, he was getting used to her pestering. It didn't cause him to drive unsafely, so he just let her tease him as much as she wanted.

*Grrrr

Michael downshifted and turned into a parking lot.

"Where are we going sweetie?" Sherry asked softly.

"You guys reminded me that I need to go get my thanksgiving TV dinner and libations." Michael explained.

"Oh...sweetie..." Sherry said mournfully.

...

Not long later, Michael found himself walking slowly amongst the grocery store shelves and displays. Everything on the shelves oozed the time of the season, with Thanksgiving in one day and Christmas just around the corner.

"Your world is very strange sweetie. Why did they change everything on the shelves?" Sherry asked.

"Holiday consumerism is big business." Michael said pessimistically.

"And you don't care for it?" Sherry assumed.

"If I want or need something, I buy it. I don't buy things because everyone else is buying it. That's the bandwagon fallacy, and it's illogical." Michael said bluntly.

He went straight to the frozen food aisle, and stood in front of the frosted glass doors showing the TV dinners.

"Uh oh. Looks like all the MGTOWs got here before I did. The turkey dinner is out of stock." Michael murmured.

"WHAT!? MGTOW in my realm?! Unpossible! I've outlawed that movement!" Sherry cried.

"You can't outlaw freedom of choice Sherry." Michael said quietly, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not trying to outlaw freedom of choice. I'm outlawing a movement that is not only harmful to the population at large, but is also harmful to its followers." Sherry said.

"There's nothing harmful about wanting to live your life without getting in a relationship with someone." Michael said dryly.

"Nothing harmful?! It's incredibly harmful! It's dreadful! It's soul crushing! Humans are meant to be together!" Sherry cried.

Sherry took a step closer.

"I've outlawed it, for your own good! If someone tries to run away and be alone, we'll pursue them! We'll make them see the truth!" Sherry insisted.

Sherry lowered her voice.

"I've outlawed loneliness." Sherry added quietly.

"That's not possible. There will always be lonely people." Michael said.

"Oh yeah? I laugh at the impossible! I have been QUITE busy while you're resting in our chambers! My laws spread across the face of the world!" Sherry exclaimed, laughing.

"Wha?" Michael grunted.

"I've ordered the great manhunt to begin! All men, everywhere, no matter where they hide, will be found and taken as husbands! The young, the old, the fat or skinny, all of them!" Sherry said, grinning devilishly.

...

"I shouldn't be surprised. You are monster girls after all." Michael said hesitantly.

...

"If you start hurting people, you and I are going to have a fight. Let that be crystal clear." Michael said firmly.

"I'm not hurting anyone sweetie. I told my subjects to be gentle in their pursuit. Oh! And I also told them to leave children alone. We're only searching for adults." Sherry reassured.

"Well... that's something at least." Michael grumbled.

...

..

.

"So... what should I go with? Salisbury steak, or country fried chicken?" Michael wondered aloud.

"Why can't I cook you something?" Sherry asked.

"Well... I love your cooking... but I can't fly in the face of tradition." Michael quipped.

Sherry face palmed.

"I guess I'll go with the country fried chicken. That's sorta like turkey I suppose. I just can't bring myself to eat a salisbury steak for thanksgiving. That's what I eat during Fallout 3 marathons." Michael remarked.

"Huh?" Sherry questioned.

He pulled the TV dinner out of the display, and threw it in his basket. Then he turned to Sherry and grabbed his own throat to help modulate his voice.

"Let me ask you something, children. You hungry for some 200-year old Salisbury steak, or you hungry for some news? I'm guessing news. ~Heh heh~ Here ya go." Michael said, changing his voice.

"I had no idea you could do that with your voice~!" Sherry marveled.

"Don't feed the Yao Guai! That is all." Michael said, changing his voice.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael and Sherry found themselves in the alcohol section of the store, where Michael looked for his bottle of whiskey.

"Look for a bottle that says Old Overholt. It's pretty dang good for bottom shelf booze." Michael said.

"So this is part of the thanksgiving tradition too? Imbibing whiskey?" Sherry asked.

"Well... not everyone's tradition. But it is a part of mine." Michael said casually.

"But sweetie! That's no way to spend a holiday meant to be spent with family, giving thanks for the wonderful things you have in your life! You don't need this!" Sherry exclaimed.

She tried grabbing his arm to drag him away. As she pulled, he spotted and snagged the bottle he was looking for.

"Ugh... you're intolerable." Sherry said.

"You think I'm intolerable now, you should have seen me last thanksgiving." Michael said cheerfully.

...

..

Shortly later, they found themselves walking through the produce section of the store.

"What's this sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"That's a sweet potato." Michael said.

"Ooohhh~ That sounds yummy! Is it yummy?" Sherry asked.

"Ya put this here corn syrup and marsh mellas' on them there sweet taters and by gollie... them there 'll be the best dad gum candied yams yawls ever did have!" Michael drawled.

Sherry laughed hysterically.

"You sound so strange sweetie!" Sherry cried, tearing up.

Michael switched his voice to an Irish accent.

"Is it now lassie? Well, you 'ave a bet o' an accent yooehrself dahn't you? It's as sweet as music to me ears!" Michael said, grinning.

Sherry couldn't help herself. She was laughing so hard, she was crying. Michael chuckled, smiling at seeing Sherry laughing so hard.

"Hehehehe~ Oh sweetie, you make me so happy inside~" Sherry laughed.

*Coughcough

She cleared her throat.

"*Ahem~... Do I really have an accent sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah, you do. It's very light, but you sound Russian or Ukrainian. I like it. It's like I'm married to one of the chicks from 007." Michael said, grinning.

"What's a double-oh-seven?" Sherry asked.

"It's a movie series. You'd love it. In fact..." Michael trailed off.

He rubbed his chin.

"What was her name... something something-top. Onatopp! Xenia Onatopp! You totally remind me of her!" Michael recalled.

...

"Ehh... on the other hand, you're not like her at all. Never mind." Michael retracted.

Sherry snickered.

"No sweetie... I'm definitely onatopp you every night." Sherry chuckled.

...

~Later~

...

Michael was strolling through the seasonal aisle of the store. He quickly grabbed two small red boxes off a shelf and tossed them in the basket, all without even slowing his pace.

"What were those sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Sweets." Michael quipped.

"Eh?" Sherry said.

"It's chocolate covered cherries. You'll love them. They're one of the few seasonal things I actually bother buying this time of year." Michael said.

Michael could almost hear the drooling begin behind him, without even having to look.

"I know how much you love chocolate." Michael added.

"Mmm hmm! But not as much as I love sucking out your spirit energy!" Sherry said cheerfully.

"Shhh! Gees Sherry, you pick some odd times to bring that up!" Michael said in hushed tones.

"So? That doesn't make what I said untrue." Sherry said, matter of fact.

She slid closer and draped her arms loosely over his shoulder.

"For being kind to me, I shall reward you. When we get home, I shall very gently but firmly ride your..." Sherry started to say.

"HEATHENS!" Someone bellowed.

...

..

.

"My wut?" Michael asked, confused.

Both Michael and Sherry turned their heads and peeked around the aisle to view the source of the loud voice. Or in that case, several loud voices. Off towards the other side of the grocery store, there was quite the commotion going on. A dozen robed and cloaked figures were marching through the store and harassing everyone who even so much as looked at them sideways.

"HEATHENS ALL OF YOU! YOU SHALL ALL BURN IN THE FIRES IF YOU DO NOT REPENT!" The cultists shouted.

...

"I wonder if those are those nuts who like to hold that month long drug fueled sermon up in the mountains every year. I thought their prophet was arrested." Michael thought.

...

"I think we should check out and leave." Michael said quietly.

"Agreed whole heartedly. Those fools bring back memories I would rather not recall." Sherry said quietly.

...

And so Michael and Sherry cut their shopping trip short, and jumped into the shortest line they could find. Sherry kept an eye on the cultists, and watched as they inspected the faces of everyone they passed. Michael flipped down the hood on his sweater, just in case they were looking for him.

...

Michael felt slightly nervous when he had to show his ID at the checkout for the bottle of whiskey, but the cashier didn't even say a peep. He suspected she was an inma anyways, from the way she winked at him. So they paid, and quickly hustled out the store.

...

Just as they reached the door, with the worst possible timing, a certain manticore policewoman appeared and opened her fat mouth.

"Hey Mike!"

It was Serena the police officer. She was just heading in through the door as Michael and Sherry were on their way out. It was meant to be a casual greeting, but it couldn't have come at a worse time.

"Shut up you damn copper!" Michael growled.

They shoved past her, and hustled out into the parking lot.

"Well that was rude!" Serena shot.

She turned to go into the store again, but a dozen robed cultists rushed past her. Two and two finally clicked together in her head.

"Uh oh. I screwed up." Serena murmured.

She hurried after the cultists, her thumb pushing down the PTT button on her speaker mic as she went.

"Dispatch, this is alpha lima 19. I have a possible hostile situation brewing at the food city. Better send backup." Serena said into the radio.

Her radio hissed as a reply came.

"Roger AL19. Backup's on the way." Dispatch said on the radio.

...

Michael's keys jangled as he pulled them out. He had just enough time to toss the groceries in the trunk before the cultists showed up.

"Hey! You! We know who you are! You're Michael Collins!" The cultist leader shouted.

"Ahh frack." Michael grumbled.

Michael turned to face the group head on. Sherry glared hate filled daggers at them.

"That's right. I'm Michael Collins. You have something to say to me?" Michael confronted.

"We have come to stop your evil ways and stop the satanistic invasion plaguing our world! You have proven to be a difficult man to track down, but god has guided us on our path! Halleluiah! " The cultist leader proclaimed.

The cultist was speaking in a loud boisterous tone like he was preaching a sermon. The others in his group immediately cried a chorus of halleluiahs and other such praises for god. Michael face palmed at the whole scene.

"These guys make normal religious folk look really... really bad." Michael thought.

Right around then, Serena caught up. Another police cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

"You thought you could hide from us, but we saw your evil black chariot! And we saw your black hood, and the evil demon that accompanies you!" The cultist leader exclaimed.

"Weren't you people the ones up in the mountains smoking pot and praising the new glory church or some shit?" Michael said, exasperated.

"We were once mislead by a false prophet, but we have all been enlightened! We have seen god, and she has spoken to us!" The cultist leader preached.

Sherry immediately took a step forward, her hand flying down to her hip.

"She!? What god do you serve?" Sherry asked dangerously.

"We serve the chief god! All hail the chief god and our new organization, The Children of the Order!" The cultist leader cheered.

The group chanted halleluiah again, over and over. Sherry began to draw her invisible sword, her anger so hot that just her gaze could have incinerated that man.

"Sherry!" Michael barked.

He grabbed her and pulled her back. Serena stepped between them and held up her hands. Her backup appeared in the form of two male officers.

"There's no law that says you can't form whatever religious cult you want, but if you harass these people any further..." Serena said dangerously.

"Officer! This is Michael Collins! The wanted man! And that's Searraigh Fontaine, the one who assaulted the White House!" The cultist leader exclaimed.

Serena's backup sized Michael up with their eyes, but they made no move against him. Neither did Serena.

"And you're the crazy methhead who's been bouncing in and out of my jail for the last ten years!" Serena retorted.

"I resent that officer! I've done my time, fair and square! The Chief God has seen to it that I stand free!" The cultist leader exclaimed.

"You make god fearing folk everywhere look bad!" Serena shot.

"I was just thinking that." Michael thought.

...

As this discussion went back and forth between the police officers and the cultists, Michael was doing everything in his power to keep Sherry under control. She was struggling to get free from him so she could smite her enemy, her hated enemy, the blight on the land, the ones who had taken away so many years of her life. She hated them. She hated them with every fiber of her being. All the way down to the depths of her succubus soul. If the Order were matter, Sherry would be antimatter. The utter and complete enemy of the Order.

"At ease knight!" Michael growled.

Sherry's shoulders straightened. As much as she hated the Order, she was still a knight and she still had her duty and honor to obey.

"Get in the car." Michael ordered.

"No!" Sherry forced through her teeth.

Michael put his mouth against the nape of her neck, so only she could hear him.

"You're being tested. Get in the car right now. Listen to me. Do as I say." Michael warned quietly.

As he coaxed her into the car, the cultists spread out and surrounded them in a half moon configuration. Serena watched closely, her hand hovering limply near her service pistol. An average person wouldn't have noticed her readiness, but Michael spotted it instantly. The whole situation was ready to explode at any second.

...

As a police officer, Serena still had to obey the laws of the land. Even if she was a manticore. And Michael did too, even though he was married to the mistress. Michael knew it, Serena knew it, and Sherry didn't.

...

Sherry was the first to get in the car. Since they were blocked in, she got in through the driver's side and slide over to the passenger seat. Just as Michael was getting ready to plop into the car, one of the cultists reached under his robes.

*SHIIIING

"Die heretic!" The cultist screamed.

...

..

.

When the first cultist took that step into conflict, the rest of them quickly joined him. They all produced weapons, ranging from knives to chains to tire irons to pistols.

*CRACK!

The knife wielding cultist lunged for Michael, and was immediately greeted by his powerful left hook. Michael punched him so hard that he threw the guy backwards to the ground, hemorrhaging blood out his nose. But that wasn't even the beginning of the fight. As Michael punched, his right hand plunged under his sweater and wrapped around the familiar grip of his Beretta.

...Michael, for the very first time in his life, pulled a weapon in anger against another person and pulled the trigger.

*BANG!

Michael watched in slow motion as a bloody red hole appeared in that man's chest.

*BANG!

*BANG!

*BANG!

Serena and her backup were right behind him with their own service weapons, and they didn't hesitate.

*BLAM!

*BLAM!

*BLAM!

*BANG!

*BLAM!

*BANG!

.

..

...

Those few cultists who survived, ran away screaming. Some of them clutching bloody wounds. The cultist leader was screaming, waving his hands, and pleading for mercy. He had no weapon. On the ground lay the majority of those dozen cultists... and one police officer.

"Shots fired! Shots fired! Officer down! Multiple casualties! I need an ambulance at the food city right now!" Serena shouted into her radio.

...

The whole battle lasted only a heartbeat. Sherry never did have a chance to crawl back out of the car again. Michael held his Beretta in his hands, the slide locked back due to an empty magazine. Smoke wafted from the barrel and the open chamber.

*THUD!

Michael was shoved against the Duster, his empty Beretta clattering onto the ground. He felt handcuffs click around his wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..." Serena started.

"Stow it copper! I know my rights!" Michael spat.

Sherry scrambled out of the car.

"What do you think you're doing to my husband!?" Sherry exclaimed.

"I'm sorry mistress, but I have no choice." Serena said simply.

"I demand you release him at once! Fool! How dare you?!" Sherry spat angrily.

"Sherry, sit in the car and shut up." Michael hissed.

"But..." Sherry said.

"I know what I'm doing! Sit down, put your hands in your lap, and shut up! Do nothing!" Michael forced.

...

..

.

The police cruisers came screaming into the parking lot, followed by every ambulance the city owned. The very first person they cared for was the downed police officer, who had been shot in the leg. He was whisked off to the local hospital. Michael was stuffed into the back of a crown vic, and waited by his lonesome while he watched the police bag up the bodies. The cultist leader was very roughly cuffed, thrown into a different cruiser, and taken straight to jail. Those that ran away were hunted down by K9 units, cuffed, thrown in cruisers, and taken either to the hospital or jail.

...

~A Half Hour Later~

...

Serena came to the police cruiser that contained Michael and opened the door.

"Okay Michael, so I need you to recount what happened here for the police report." Serena said.

"I was in fear of my life. I want a lawyer." Michael said flatly.

Serena sighed.

"I was standing right there you know." Serena said, annoyed.

"I was in fear of my life. I want a lawyer." Michael repeated.

Serena scribbled down a couple of things on a notepad, and then shut the door to the cruiser.

...

~Two Hours Later~

...

Serena and a couple of other officers came back to the crown vic and opened the door again. Michael's head was hung, and he wasn't exactly energetic when he looked up at them. His face was etched with pain.

"Step out of the vehicle." Serena instructed.

Michael tried to obey, but the back door on those crown vics weren't exactly... large. He barely fit in the first time, and he was stiff and cramped up as he tried to crawl out. His legs didn't want to function anymore, because of how cramped it had been. Serena had to drag him out.

"I can't feel my legs." Michael murmured.

"Now face the vehicle." Serena instructed, ignoring his complaint.

Michael turned and faced the cruiser. She undid the cuffs, and freed his arms.

"You're free to go Mike." Serena said.

Michael leaned against the cop car, rubbing his wrists.

"You're not taking me to jail?" Michael asked.

Serena crossed her arms.

"Arizona is a Stand Your Ground state. That means you did nothing wrong. And it's obvious you were paying attention when you took that concealed carry class." Serena noted.

"You bet your ass I did." Michael retorted.

"You did everything by the book, perfectly. So I doubt there will be any problems. But... don't skip town, or you'll really be in trouble." Serena warned.

"I want my Beretta back." Michael requested.

"Sorry, can't do it. There's six stiffs in our morgue with bullets in them from your Beretta. We need it for evidence. And you might be called to testify in a trial." Serena said.

"Fine." Michael said gruffly.

He turned to walk away, but his legs were screaming in pain from waking up suddenly. He swayed and nearly fell over. Serena tried to catch him...

*SHOVE!

Michael shoved her away, and collapsed on the ground.

"You need to CALM DOWN!" Serena barked.

Michael struggled to get back on his feet, and Serena tried to help him up, but he swatted her hand away.

"I don't get it Mike! You don't have so much as a single blemish on your record! Not even a speeding ticket! Why do you hate us so much? We're on your side!" Serena asked.

"No you're not. You're on your own side." Michael retorted.

And with that, he got up and hobbled off towards the Duster.

"Yeah and you're still a salty son of a bitch!" Serena shot.

Michael flipped her the bird over his shoulder.

...

..

"Hey Serena, why do you like that guy so much?" One of the officers asked quietly.

"I dunno. Maybe because he's a salty son of a bitch." Serena said quietly, shrugging.

She glanced at her partners, and formed an evil grin.

"And don't you two bother him. He's mine to harass." Serena said quietly, grinning.

...

Michael hobbled back to the Duster, where Sherry was still waiting obediently. She looked very excited when she spotted him coming closer. He slid behind the wheel, and she was all over him instantly. She hugged him, and he hugged her back.

"Ohh ohh... careful, you're squeezing too hard!" Michael grunted.

"I'm so sorry sweetie. I thought... we hadn't seen them yet... that perhaps we had escaped the Order." Sherry said quietly.

She squeezed him a little harder.

"Why did you tell me to get in the car? Why did you tell me to not attack? Why did you let..." Sherry questioned, rapid fire.

"Stop please. Just stop." Michael said.

"But sweetie..." Sherry protested.

He pushed her back over to her side of the car.

"Just... let it go." Michael's voice warbled.

He jammed the car into gear and drove the hell out of there.

...

~Later~

...

Michael was sluggish as he stumbled up the stairs to their apartment. Sherry followed closely behind. She wanted to help, but Michael had refused every time. It seemed as if he didn't even want to talk to her, and she didn't know why. He staggered into the apartment, kicked off his shoes, and immediately headed towards the bedroom.

"I need to lie down a while. I don't feel so good." Michael murmured.

*CLICK

Michael shut the bedroom door behind him, leaving Sherry out in the cold.

...

..

The wheels in Sherry's head started turning.

"He's not injured. I checked him while he was driving. So what's wrong?" Sherry thought.

...

"Those cultists didn't have magic. I didn't sense even a little coming from them. So it's not a curse." Sherry thought.

...

And then, she felt it. A pained feeling in her heart, sent to her over the magical link that connected their souls.

"Sweetie's going into shock!" Sherry thought.

Sherry ripped the door open to the bedroom and rushed in. Michael was laying on the bed with a ton of blankets covering him. She threw her clothes off and jumped into bed with him, pressing her hot succubus body against his under the blankets.

"Here you go sweetie! Have my body heat! Everything's going to be fine!" Sherry reassured.

She dabbed away a little dampness away from his eyes, and hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to hear your cries of pain." Sherry whispered.

"I've never... I've never shot someone before..." Michael murmured.

"Shhh... it's okay. Shhhhh." Sherry shushed.

...

A few minutes passed.

...

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Sherry popped her head up, the annoyance clear on her face.

"Why must they bother us at a time like this?" Sherry asked, annoyed.

*BANG BANG BANG

"They really want to talk to us! Goodness!" Sherry exclaimed.

She slid out of bed and went to the front door, gathering her clothes along the way. Answering the door, she greeted their guest.

"Hello there dear, how can I... wait... HEY! What do you think you're..." Sherry exclaimed.

Stavish burst into the bedroom, her M4 rifle in hand.

"On your feet sir! This isn't the time to be wanking off!" Stavish exclaimed.

"What's going on? I don't feel good." Michael said, groaning.

"The army is on their way here! Right now! On your feet!" Stavish exclaimed.

.

.

.

"Shit!" Michael exclaimed.

He was out of the bed in an instant. Stavish got out of the way as Michael ran to grab his AK74 and gear out of his closet.

"Do you still have that body armor?" Stavish asked.

"Yeah!" Michael said.

"Wear it!" Stavish exclaimed.

Michael pulled that body armor out of the closet. The very same armor that he had captured from that crazy commanding officer who tried to kill him at that military checkpoint. Grabbing a bunch of magazines, Michael followed Stavish back out into the living room.

...

..

.

They peeked out the window to the street below. There was no sign of the army... yet.

"Are you two quite done playing games?" Sherry asked dryly.

Michael and Stavish both shot her a confused stare. Sherry wasn't even bothering to take cover, and she stood openly in front of the window without a care in the world.

"With all due respect... are you cracked?" Stavish asked.

Sherry scoffed.

"It is you two who have gone utterly mad. Crouching down, playing soldier like a couple of children. Do you really think your earth army can harm us?" Sherry asked.

Michael looked at Stavish, and Stavish looked at Michael.

"YES!" They both exclaimed.

...

..

.

A convoy of vehicles made their way up the street in an orderly line. Most of them were hmmwvs, but there were a couple mraps mixed in. All of them still bore the desert tan paintjob they had from service in the middle east, as faded and worn as it was.

*Squeak!

The line of vehicles all came to a halt, all at the same time. All was silent for several moments, other than the sounds of idling diesel motors. One of the turrets on one of the vehicles began to rotate.

"Oh shit! Get DOWN!" Stavish barked.

*RATATTATATATATATATATATAT!

*POM POM POM POM POM POM POM

*BRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!

The apartment was blasted by withering machinegun fire. Michael's window was knocked out, and glass went everywhere. But miraculously enough, no rounds penetrated the brick wall that made up the window sill or the wall on that side of the apartment. Sherry's wards had saved their lives.

"Are you okay sir?" Stavish shouted.

Michael knocked glass off his head, and made the okay hand gesture. He was half deaf. Stavish glanced up towards Sherry, and her eyes went wide.

"Sir! Look!" Stavish exclaimed.

Michael followed her gaze, and saw Sherry still standing exactly where she had been standing before. She had several bullet holes in her.

"Sherry!" Michael screamed.

"Oh... oh..." Sherry rasped.

She fell to a knee, her hands shaking. Michael rushed over to her, but immediately noticed her wounds weren't bleeding like they should have been.

"I'll... be okay... just need to heal..." Sherry coughed.

*niiiiiiiiiiiirow

Sherry's wounds closed right before Michael's eyes. What should have been certain death for a human, was but an inconvenience for a powerful inma like Sherry.

"You idiot! You should have taken cover!" Stavish chastised roughly.

"I'm fine. They took me by surprise, but I shall not allow it to happen again!" Sherry said angrily.

She rose up on her feet, her magic filled hands on either side.

"How dare they attack our happy home!" Sherry exclaimed.

She marched straight for the front door.

"Mistress wait! They're right outside!" Stavish exclaimed.

Michael took cover behind the wall again, his rifle at the ready. The thunderous sound of boots thudding up the stairs reverberated in the wall. Dozens of men took up a position just on the other side of the door.

*BANG!

There was a loud thundering BANG as something heavy hit the front door. It didn't even quiver.

"Hmmp! Fools! Even a novice mage can protect against doors being broken down!" Sherry scoffed.

*BANG

*BANG

Michael, Sherry, and Stavish all remained silent as they listened to the soldiers trying to break their door down.

"Sir, the federal master key isn't working."

"Then use breaching slugs!"

*ShickSHACK!

*BOOM!

The specialized door-breaching slug hit the door, but once again the door didn't budge.

"Un fucking believable! What'd they make this door out of? Titanium?"

"Sir, I can't get through the window!"

"Why the fuck not? We shot it out!"

"Something's blocking me! I can't even see through where the glass was!"

The soldiers tried to enter the apartment, but they were being blocked by an invisible wall. It was like watching a couple of mimes in ACU's. And for some reason, those soldiers couldn't see Michael and Stavish literally sitting right there in front of them, pointing rifles at them.

"What do we do now?" Michael whispered.

"I don't know. Maybe we should shoot them sir." Stavish whispered.

"They can't hear you, just so you know." Sherry said in a normal voice.

...

"Hey dickhead! Quit trying to break into my apartment, or I'll blow your fracking head off!" Michael barked.

Nothing. No reaction. They couldn't hear a single thing that Michael said, even if he yelled it.

"It's a simple ward against sound, so we wouldn't disturb the neighbors if we started screaming during sex." Sherry explained.

Michael face palmed.

"Okay, so here we are. What do we do now?" Stavish asked.

"I'm inclined to kill the lot of them." Sherry said.

"Me too." Stavish said.

"I would rather find another way out of this." Michael said.

...

..

"Well... I don't really want to kill them. But I don't know any other way to stop them permanently." Sherry admitted.

She looked pleadingly towards Michael, as if she were begging him to come up with an idea. It took him by surprise. She never seemed to want his input about much of anything important.

"I don't want to hurt them. They're just trying to do their job. I just want them to go away. Can't we do that?" Michael asked.

..

...

"As you wish." Sherry said.

She raised her hands filled with power once again, and opened the front door.

...

..

.

.

.

.

*WHOOOOOOOOOOSH!

.

.

.

Michael and Stavish carefully peeked over the window sill. There were no more soldiers outside. Not on the enclosed porch, not on the stairs, and not on the street below.

"You two may come out now. It's safe." Sherry called.

Michael and Stavish stood up in unison, and walked out of the apartment together. Sherry stood alone on the balcony, looking down on the street below. Each one had been teleported naked, leaving his clothes and equipment behind to fall on the ground. There were rifles, helmets, body armor, and other pieces of gear strewn everywhere.

"As requested, I have made them go away without so much as a single shed drop of blood." Sherry said proudly.

"Are you fracking kidding me? You could end it non violently the whole time, and that wasn't your default? What the hell is wrong with you?!" Michael exclaimed.

"I uh... I'm sorry sweetie." Sherry said, dejected.

"Where did you send them mistress?" Stavish asked.

"I sent them individually to the several unmarried inma filling this city. I have no doubt that their new wives will prevent them from attacking us any further." Sherry explained.

Michael used the toe of his boot to prod the remains left behind by those soldiers.

*BRRCHT!

*BRRCHT!

Stavish's radio hissed and popped twice, but no voice came through.

"Sir, my men just arrived." Stavish said.

"Where?" Sherry asked.

Stavish answered by quickly pushing the PTT button on her radio three times, thus signaling her soldiers that it was all clear. Michael watched as a line of uniformed and armed inma rose up out of the hedge across the street, and on the roof of the buildings behind the hedge.

"Orders?" Stavish asked.

Michael looked to Sherry, but she shook her head.

"I leave that up to you sweetie. You know these soldiers and their abilities better than I." Sherry said.

...

"Order your men to check those vehicles and police those weapons." Michael ordered.

"Yes sir!" Stavish said.

She was on her way down the stairs in a flash.

"Police those weapons! Check for stragglers! Move!" Stavish barked.

Sherry watched Stavish's solders go about their job for a few moments, and then she turned to go inside the apartment.

"And now you know why I thought it silly that you were playing soldier." Sherry said flippantly.

...

"BANG!" Michael barked.

Sherry twirled around, and saw Michael holding his AK in the ready position without actually aiming it at her.

"Let's see you heal yourself when you get your head blown off!" Michael shot angrily.

He lowered his rifle to his side and marched right up until he was right in her face. She shrank back a little.

"When Stavish or I say get down, you fracking get down you idiot!" Michael growled.

"Sweetie!" Sherry warbled.

"I love you and I don't want to have to bury you!" Michael growled.

And with that, he walked away.

...

Sherry hung her head a little. She knew she screwed up. He was right to be angry.

"I fear losing sweetie... so I can only imagine how he feels about losing me." Sherry thought.

...

..

Michael came down the stairs and joined in with Stavish's squad, picking up the leftover remains of those teleported soldiers. They ended up getting quite the heaping pile of gear, which they heaped into the back of the mrap and one of the hmmwvs.

"Do you want us to demil all this stuff sir?" Stavish asked.

"What?! Hell no! We need this stuff!" Michael exclaimed, shocked.

"Yes sir. Should I assume that MO stands for any future weapons we capture?" Stavish asked.

"That's right. Every last cartridge, magazine, and anything that can put a bullet downrange. I want it all gathered, inventoried, stored properly, and issued out as needed." Michael said.

"Yes sir. Right away." Stavish said.

Michael nodded and went back to work. Stavish watched him go for a moment, and nodded to herself, pleased.

"At least he works for a living." Stavish thought.

...

"Specialist! We found an M24 in the back of one of the hmmwvs!" A soldier said.

Stavish followed the soldier to the back of one of the hmmwvs, where they had found a sniper's gear kit. It was a modernized M24E1, chambered in .300 win mag. Included was a couple of ammo cans full of the high quality ammunition the rifle required to be as accurate as could be. It was fitted with the standard Leupold Mk 4 scope, and it had a very high dollar FLIR thermal rifle scope in a case, ready to install for night shooting.

...

As Stavish stood there and looked at that rifle, she did a mental inventory of her slip shod unit of inma that she had managed to put together. None of them really had the skills to put that rifle to use, other than one person.

"Gather up all that gear and store it separate from all the other gear." Stavish instructed.

"Right away specialist!" The soldier exclaimed.

"Let's just consider ourselves lucky that the sniper didn't get a chance to deploy." Stavish added.

"Let's make them piss their pants a while, right specialist?" The soldier asked.

"Yeah. Exactly." Stavish said.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

"Sir, we finished the inventory." Stavish said, holding a notepad.

Michael took the notepad and looked through it. His eyebrow raised over some of the things they found.

"You found a freaking Javelin?" Michael asked.

Stavish nodded.

"We also found four LAW tubes." Stavish added.

"I thought we stopped using the LAW platform a long time ago." Michael said, confused.

"They're cheap, and great for busting bunkers. So we keep using them." Stavish said.

Michael nodded, and continued reading.

"Assorted M4s. Ammo. M9 Berettas. Fragmentation, smoke, and flash bang grenades... all the usual stuff." Michael murmured.

As Michael read the list, Stavish was eyeballing his helmet non-stop.

...

*COUGH!

"With all due respect sir..." Stavish started.

"Hmm? Is something wrong?" Michael asked.

"It's your helmet sir." Stavish said hesitantly.

Michael reached up and adjusted the helmet on his head. The very same helmet he had liberated from that crazy CO at the blockade.

"I know it looks stupid, but I don't care. I'd rather look stupid and be alive." Michael said defiantly.

"I agree with you sir, but it's still the wrong size. It's way too small." Stavish said.

"Well, the guy was a pinhead." Michael quipped.

Stavish nodded, and produced a helmet from behind her back.

"It turns out that one of these guys had a fat head... no offense." Stavish said.

She handed him the ACH helmet, which was clearly larger than the one Michael was wearing. He took off his, handed it to her, and tried the one she handed him. It fit much better.

"Now you look correct, sir." Stavish said, smiling.

"You just couldn't stand the thought of me looking goofy like that, could you?" Michael asked knowingly.

"To be frank sir, it was making my skin crawl." Stavish said bluntly.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Michael laughed.

...

One of Stavish's soldiers hustled up and handed her an unidentified camouflage pouch, which was big enough to put a football inside.

"It's all ready specialist. We programmed it and got it in the network." The soldier said.

"Good. Carry on." Stavish said.

She turned and handed Michael the pouch. Curious, he peeked inside.

"It's a PRC 148 sir. We set up our own private network on SINCGARS, so the enemy can't listen in." Stavish said.

Michael pulled the radio out of the pouch and clicked it on.

"We've just been making up callsigns as we go along. What do you want for your callsign?" Stavish said.

"Isn't the tradition that someone else is supposed to come up with my callsign?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, it is. But unless you want to go around being called BigDigMcIrish, you'd better come up with something." Stavish said.

"White Rook." Michael said instantly.

...

"You came up with that awfully fast." Stavish said.

"Well, it was one of my favorite war TV shows as a kid. 'Checkmate King Two this is White Rook, over! Drop fifty. Fire for effect!' Or something like that." Michael chuckled.

Stavish stared at him blankly.

"You don't know that one I take it." Michael noted.

She shook her head side to side.

"Ah. Okay. I'm not surprised... it was from the 1960's after all. I still want to be called White Rook though." Michael said.

Stavish nodded and brought the speaker mic up to her mouth.

"Listen up everyone. This is Headless Horseman. We have a new member on the network, callsign White Rook. That is all." Stavish said over the radio.

The radio immediately hissed out a reply. A female with a playful tone of voice.

"Like the TV show?" The radio said.

Michael started laughing.

"Yeah yeah, like the TV show." Stavish said over the radio.

"Don't bullshit us, you've never seen it. We know you haven't." The radio said.

"Whatever. I'll watch it when I have time, you freakin movie fanatics!" Stavish exclaimed angrily.

...

"White Rook, are you live?" The radio asked.

Michael raised the speaker mic on his radio and pressed the PTT.

"Yeah I've got my ears on. What's up?" Michael asked over the radio.

"Shouldn't we call you Checkmate King Two?" The radio asked.

"No, I prefer White Rook. I work for a living." Michael said over the radio.

"Roger White Rook. Confirmed. We're clear." The radio said, chuckling.

"White Rook clear." Michael said over the radio.

He stashed the handset and closed the flap on the camouflage pouch.

"Thanks for this. Now you get to listen to my annoying voice all day, instead of just when we're in person." Michael said cheerfully.

"That's alright sir, I don't mind." Stavish chuckled.

She paused, putting her hands on her hips.

"Okay... I've got to know. What show?" Stavish asked.

"Combat! With Vic Morrow and Rick Jason. There's one particular episode you should watch, called 'Hills are for Heroes'. A veteran once told me it's the most accurate depiction of war he'd ever seen." Michael explained.

...

~Later~

...

Michael stood in his apartment, looking down through their newly repaired window at the line of military vehicles as they drove away. Each vehicle... manned by a friendly. At the same time, a civilian vehicle was pulling away, the vehicle of the glass guy who fixed their window.

"I changed the wards to prevent them from breaking the window again. That was a mistake on my part, and it shall not be repeated." Sherry explained.

"Cool." Michael said, nodding.

"And I cleaned up all the glass." Sherry added.

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Michael said.

He sat down in his old faithful chair, and pulled off his shoes. Sagging against the chair, he fingered the arm rest.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Michael murmured.

"It's okay sweetie. I understand how you feel. I know little of your world's weapons, and I could easily run afoul of something I cannot handle." Sherry said.

She rubbed his shoulder, and then walked past to go stand in front of the window.

"While I felt no pain from those wounds, I did feel discomfort and fear. If I had but listened, I would have been spared. And you're right that if I had been wounded in the head, I would surely be gone. I have no wish to leave you alone in the world." Sherry said.

...

"It's painfully obvious to me now. After what happened that night when we first met, and what happened with the cultists, and with what happened here, you are strong in your own right." Sherry said.

...

"I believe I have been wrong in my desire to be your shield against the world. Perhaps I need just as much help as you do." Sherry said.

...

"So... I have decided. No longer shall I place you behind my body. I shall have you standing at my side, supporting me as I support you. Just as Lilith and the Hero support each other." Sherry pronounced.

...

"There may come a time when I shall fall. Who else but you can I rely upon to help me to my feet? So what say you? Do you find this satisfactory?" Sherry asked.

Michael remained silent.

"It was not easy for me to say this, and it will not be easy to fight the urge to protect you. But surely you could at least..." Sherry started to say.

She turned away from the window, and saw that Michael had fallen asleep.

"Oh my, you didn't hear a single thing at all. Did you?" Sherry questioned quietly.

She leaned down and peered closely at Michael's face. His breathing was soft and even, and his eyes were closed.

"Poor thing. All this excitement must have completely worn you out." Sherry said softly.

Sherry waved her magic filled hand over his face, placing him into an even deeper slumber. Once that was done, Sherry slowly and carefully removed all his field gear. Starting with his helmet.

"Such heavy and bulky things. It must be so uncomfortable to wear." Sherry said softly.

She then pulled his AK out of his hands and carefully laid it on the carpet next to the chair. His armor soon followed it, and then his clothes. She used magic to lift his body gently out of the chair and gently carry him into the bedroom.

The Next Morning

Michael woke up in a rough way that next morning. His breath was raspy and his skin was clammy and sweaty. He looked down with his feverish eyes, and he saw a succubus-sized lump in the blanket down below.

...

He reached out and grabbed a fist full of that lump under the blanket, and it made a pleasured sound. In return, Michael was inundated with the sensation of wet suction.

"Hyyyyrrrrgggg...GAH! Hah...hah...hahhhh..." Michael panted.

The lump began to move up towards him, and he saw Sherry peek out of under the blanket. Her face was covered in semen.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up all night sweetie~ While I love playing with your body while you sleep, it's sooooo much better to see and hear your reactions~" Sherry said seductively.

*FWIP

Sherry instantly pinned his wrists at his sides.

"I have you just where I desire you to be. And here you shall stay." Sherry said, grinning lewdly.

...

Sherry worked on his neck with her lips, biting and nibbling and covering him with hickeys.

"Hmm... so much built up lust... I love the taste of it..." Sherry hummed.

She moved up to his face, which she covered in lewd wet kisses. Her slender fingers stroked up and down his rod.

"It seems that you have a healthy dose of my mana flowing through your body sweetie. Hehe~" Sherry giggled.

"Haven't you had enough yet?" Michael rasped.

Sherry's grin grew.

"I'll never stop until you make me. I'll just keep going, and going, and going..." Sherry said, grinning.

*Squeeeeeeeze

Michael cried out, his whole body curling up as a lightning bolt of pleasure shot to his brain.

"GAH!" Michael cried.

"Much better. I don't like it when you're stressed out. It makes your mana rather bitter. But now that you're pleasured, I think another cream pie is in order~" Sherry sang.

*SNAG

Michael twisted his wrists around and snagged Sherry's hands. She paused, curiosity etched on her face.

"Sweetie?" Sherry questioned.

"I can think of another kind of cream pie I would like." Michael said.

"Oh~? And what kind would that be?" Sherry asked teasingly.

"A coconut cream pie. Or maybe a banana cream pie." Michael said dryly.

"You're trying to tell me... you're hungry?" Sherry asked.

Michael nodded.

...

..

.

"I do wish you could last longer." Sherry said, disappointed.

She slid out of bed and sensually sashayed out of the room.

"I wonder if there's something I could eat that would make it a little easier on me during these orgies of hers." Michael thought.

...

~Much Later~

...

Michael came staggering out of the bedroom.

"Are you well sweetie? You took a long time to get out of bed." Sherry called from the kitchen.

"Gee I wonder why." Michael thought.

Sherry rounded the corner and made a beeline straight for Michael. She grabbed him and immediately kissed him.

"MMPH!" Michael cried, muffled.

...

One moment Michael was standing upright with Sherry latched to his lips. The very next moment, he was flat on his back with Sherry latched to his lips. It was as if his brain just flicked off for a few moments.

*PWAH!

"It seems you're okay. I can't sense anything out of the ordinary." Sherry said softly.

"You did that just to check up on me!?" Michael asked.

"Of course! I know everything about you, and what your mana is supposed to taste like. You didn't answer my question, so I had to find out on my own." Sherry said.

"You didn't even give me a chance to answer!" Michael grumbled.

"Oh. I'm sorry. My apologies." Sherry said.

She slid off him and stood up. Michael didn't move to do the same.

"Well? Are you just going to lie there?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah. Basically. I think I'll stay here a while." Michael said tiredly.

"Bah!" Sherry said.

She reached down and grabbed his hand, and helped him to his feet.

"At least sit in your chair silly!" Sherry admonished lightly.

...

"Ouch! Oh oh! I found a piece of glass! Ouch!" Michael hissed.

He landed on the couch and immediately lifted his foot up to pull the piece of glass out. A cup of coffee appeared in front of him, and he took it. He immediately burned his tongue.

"Careful, it's hot." Sherry warned.

...

"Thank you for the heads up." Michael said dryly.

"Poor sweetie. This morning hasn't started well for you, has it?" Sherry asked softly.

Michael shook his head.

"This is how thanksgiving usually goes for me. It's a curse." Michael said.

She used her magic to seal up the hole in Michael's foot, and then sat down in his lap.

*SPILL

"Gah! O wow ow! Right on the crotch!" Michael cried.

"Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!" Sherry cried.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Sherry was sopping up the coffee out of Michael's lap as he drank what was left of his once full cup of coffee.

"There we go sweetie. I healed the burns on your beloved cock." Sherry said nonchalantly.

Michael snickered.

"Now if only I could get you to do that at night, then we'd be all set." Michael joked.

"Aww sweetie, I'm not THAT rough!" Sherry pouted.

"I know, I'm just teasing you." Michael chuckled.

"Do you think you're ready for breakfast now?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Hopefully it isn't something hot, or involve sharp objects." Michael quipped.

"Would you like me to chew it for you?" Sherry quipped.

"Eww! No!" Michael exclaimed.

...

Sherry went off into the kitchen, and then returned carrying a tray.

"Here you go sweetie. Your breakfast!" Sherry said cheerfully.

She handed him a bowl of granola cereal and more coffee. He took it, said thanks, and started chewing through it. Sherry stood there for a little while, watching him eat.

"You're not going to complain that it's just cereal?" Sherry asked suddenly.

"Nope. I don't complain about food. There was a time when I couldn't afford food." Michael said simply.

...

"I'm just happy you made it for me." Michael added.

Sherry smiled and gently rubbed his hair.

"Bless you sweetie." Sherry said softly.

...

..

.

After Michael finished his breakfast, he went to Sherry who was sitting at his desk.

"So uh... I was wondering." Michael started.

"Yes sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Can you create a ward which will stop a bullet from hitting a person?" Michael asked.

Sherry turned in her seat and focused all her attention on Michael and his ~very~ legitimate question.

"I thought I could, but evidentially not. Those weapons of yours are far more powerful than I could have ever guessed. It's completely unlike deflecting an arrow." Sherry said.

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"I made the walls and window reinforced with magic so they simply will not break, but that doesn't actually deflect the attack. You can't do that to a person." Sherry explained.

...

"Magic is a tiny bit casting, and a lot of experimentation and learning. Perhaps I could experiment and come up with a new ward." Sherry suggested.

"Well I'm not going to shoot you if that's what you're suggesting!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh no no no, that's unsafe! Perhaps we could experiment using a target that won't result in injury?" Sherry suggested.

...

~Later~

...

Michael and Sherry found themselves way out in the middle of the desert, well outside of town. There was nothing for several miles in every direction. Not a single house, person, car, or road. They found a nice little gully, in which they set up a thick steel plate with a chain and some metal poles to hold it up. Then they retreated back to a reasonable distance. Sherry wanted to be a few dozen paces away from the plate, but Michael insisted they be at least a hundred yards away.

"Can you actually hit it from this distance?" Sherry asked.

"Yes. Easily. This isn't a bow." Michael said.

...

"Did you bring your most powerful weapon sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Yep." Michael said, patting a hard rifle case.

He threw a shooting blanket on the ground, and laid out his gear.

*Click! Click!

He opened the case, and pulled out his M14. The moment Sherry laid her eyes on it, she shuddered in recollection. Her eyes flicked from the rifle, to Michael, to the rifle again.

"Is something wrong?" Michael asked.

"No no sweetie, nothing's wrong. That weapon looks rather... wicked." Sherry lied.

"Okay? I guess?" Michael said.

...

Michael reached into his shooting bag and pulled out some hearing protection, which he handed to her.

"Here you go. You'll need this." Michael said.

He pulled out some ear plugs, which he stuffed into his own ears. Then he pulled out a loaded magazine, and rocked it into the magazine well. Then he took the prone position, shouldered the rifle, and aimed.

"Let's set a base line. No wards." Michael said.

...

..

*BOOM!
.

*GONG!

The steel plate swung wildly through the air, the massive .308 projectile smacking it hard. Once the plate settled down, Michael peered at it with a pair of old world war two era binoculars.

"Center left. I pulled it." Michael observed.

"It looks to be in the middle by my eye sweetie." Sherry said.

"But not by mine." Michael said.

*BOOM!

.

*GONG!

The plate swung wildly, the round smacking even more into the center than the last one.

"Alright. That's our baseline. Now work your magic!" Michael said cheerfully.

...

..

.

And in that fashion, Sherry began constructing a new ward to protect against rifle fire. She started by using one of her pre-existing wards to protect against arrows.

*BOOM!

.

*GONG!

The plate swung, and Sherry shrugged her shoulders.

"I wasn't expecting much, but it's still disappointing." Sherry said.

She worked her fingers, chanting quietly in a strange language, and then nodded to Michael.

"Send it?" Michael asked.

"Send it." Sherry nodded.

*BOOM!

.

*GONG!

The plate swung again, the projectile hitting the same spot.

"You're very good at this sweetie. You haven't missed once!" Sherry remarked.

"Don't jinx me." Michael retorted instantly.

...

Sherry waved her magic fingers again, tweaking the spell. Once she gave the signal, Michael sent another one of those wonderful .308 Winchesters downrange.

*BOOM!

.

*GONG!

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

A small mound of fired brass lay next to Michael, all left from the repeated attempts Sherry had made at stopping or deflecting a rifle projectile. Repeated failed attempts.

"This is turning out harder than I thought." Sherry remarked.

"Well... it is a 147 grain chunk of lead moving at 2750 feet per second. It should be hard to stop!" Michael remarked.

*Niiiirow

"Try it now." Sherry said.

*BOOM!

.

*GONG!

Michael nailed the plate once again, like he had a hundred times before.

"Gees, this is too easy!" Michael remarked.

"Well this isn't easy for me! Try it again!" Sherry exclaimed through gritted teeth.

*BOOM!

.

*TWANG!

The projectile missed slightly, nicking the chain. The plate swung side to side.

"Hehey! I think we're getting somewhere!" Michael cheered.

"Fire again!" Sherry forced.

*BOOM!

.

*THUD!

The projectile hit the dirt a couple of feet to the left of the target. Sherry sagged.

"Enough, I cannot hold it anymore!" Sherry gasped.

...

..

.

Sherry wavered a moment, but soon regained her composure. Michael eyed her with a worried gaze.

"I can deflect it, but it takes an immense amount of power. It's a very large strain." Sherry explained.

"If it's that bad, maybe we should stop." Michael suggested, worried.

"No! If I am to protect you, I must be prepared for all threats! Fire again!" Sherry exclaimed, determined.

...

Michael didn't move. Sherry lightly nudged his hip with the toe of her boot.

"Fire again!" Sherry insisted.

"Alright Sherry. You want me to fire again? Let's see you stop this!" Michael said.

*CLICK

He rocked a fully loaded magazine into the rifle. Twenty rounds of engine-block smashing power.

"Reach out~ Reach out and touch someone~" Michael sang.

*BOOM!
*GONG..BOOM!
*GONG..BOOM!
*GONG..BOOM!

Michael fired the rifle rapidly, putting a round downrange every second. One after another, he nailed that steel plate each time. It danced wildly, swinging every which way. It even tried to swing up and over the metal stand, but Michael shot it and pushed it back the other way.

*GONG..BOOM!

Every time he heard the twang of a projectile hitting steel, he already had another round ready to send.

*GONG..BOOM!
*GONG..BOOM!

Sherry was struggling. She had managed to deflect the first couple of rounds, but she wasn't prepared for the follow up shots. She tried and tried, but she couldn't stop the stream of 147 grain projectiles flying down range.

*GONG..BOOM!
*CLANG!

And the whole target fell over. Smoke rose from the muzzle of Michael's rifle.

"Four hundred points. I win!" Michael said cheerfully.

Sherry was practically on her knees from the drain. Michael reached over and patted her.

"It's okay. Let's just try to not get shot at in the first place." Michael said.

...

"I have one last idea." Sherry murmured.

"I think you've done enough. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Michael said gently.

"If you can hit it one more time, then I shall surrender to your wisdom. But please... fire one more time." Sherry said.

Michael sighed.

"Fine. I'll hit the target now that it's on the ground. But like you said, one last shot." Michael said.

He flicked the rifle off safe, shouldered it, and got his breathing under control. He could just barely see a sliver of the rifle plate laying on the ground, but it was enough to aim at. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, Sherry cast her spell.

*Niiiiirow!

The target, the chain, and the metal frame holding it up all disappeared in a shimmering wave of crimson. Michael chuckled.

"Camouflage." Michael noted.

"Exactly!" Sherry said, grinning victoriously.

...

*BOOM!

.

*CLANG!

"Curses!" Sherry exclaimed.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Michael and Sherry arrived safely back in their apartment, where they put away their tools and got something to quench their thirst. As they stood in the kitchen with a couple of tall glasses of ice water, Sherry asked a question that was burning in her mind.

"So after all that, you never did tell me why you wanted that ward sweetie." Sherry said.

"Oh! Well... I want to work on my car and not get shot." Michael explained.

"Is that all? Well, I can simply call Stavish and..." Sherry trailed off.

...

Sherry thought about it, and decided that she didn't want to trust another person with his safety again. Not after what happened previously with Desdemona and Alistair.

...

"On second thought, let's not bother Stavish. I'll just make you unseeable so they don't know where you are. Is that satisfactory?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah that sounds just fine. Thanks!" Michael said cheerfully.

...

..

.

Michael found himself outside, tool box in hand, with his sights set on the Duster. The brakes had been squeaky when he got home, and he was going to fix it. That and the car was due for a general inspection after doing so much driving around. He wanted the Duster ready to go... in case they had a chance to get to the other world.

"The Duster isn't exactly the greatest vehicle for wilderness, but I'll make it work. I'm sure Sherry could come up with a few tricks to keep us going down the road." Michael thought.

...

"I can't wait! I'm going to get to see Lescatie! I wonder if they have a French accent there. Oooooohhhh la~ la~" Michael thought.

Michael paused, thinking to himself. Then his eyes widened.

"OOOOOOH! I'm going to get to go to Zipangu! That'll be my best chance of visiting Japan, without actually being able to visit Japan!" Michael thought, grinning excitedly.

He started rocking back and forth in excitement.

"I... might even get to see places that aren't even written about in the MGE!" Michael thought.

He had a nerd-gasm in short order, and found it difficult to actually get much work done on the Duster. At least... until he calmed down.

.

..

...

~Several Hours Later~

...

..

.

Michael shuffled up the steps, his arms covered in filthy black grime from the brakes and tires. He turned the knob, stepped inside the dimly lit apartment, and immediately called out. The second he stepped across the doorway, the invisibility spell petered out.

"Hey Sherry, it's just me! I'm back!" Michael called.

There was no answer. Michael walked around the place, but there was no sign of her. So he hopped into the shower, and made good friends with a bar of lava soap to get all the nastiness off his arms. After his quick shower, he came out into the apartment and looked around for Sherry again.

"I wonder where she's gone this time." Michael murmured.

He glanced at his desk, and noticed her stack of papers was gone.

"I suppose she took off somewhere to prepare for opening the portal." Michael thought.

He noticed a paper bag sitting on his desk. The very same one which contained the bottle of whiskey he had gotten at the store the previous day.

"Welp. Guess I better start my thanksgiving libations. It's five o'clock... somewhere." Michael said.

He threaded the cap off the bottle and took a whiff. The scent of vanilla and caramel, even some spiciness, wafted out of the bottle.

"Hmm... It's been a long time old friend." Michael murmured.

*Clink

*Pouring Sounds

...

..

~Later~

..

...

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry appeared in the apartment, and was greeted by the sound of Hollywood gunfire. Michael had all the lights turned off, with old school war movies stacked up on top the television. A glass of whiskey was balanced on his knee.

"Ugh... you really did indulge in that bottle, didn't you? I can smell it from here." Sherry said, groaning.

She bent down and snatched the bottle off the little table next to Michael's chair. It was still almost entirely full.

"I only poured the one glass. I've had... three sips so far?" Michael explained.

*Siiiip

"Make that four." Michael said.

"I was for sure certain you would drink the entire thing." Sherry said, surprised.

"Heh... no. It takes me months to go through one bottle." Michael explained.

...

"Had ya goin', didn't I?" Michael quipped.

"Indeed sweetie, I was quite fooled." Sherry chuckled.

...

"I was worried about you while you were gone. Were you working on the portal?" Michael asked.

"What makes you ask that?" Sherry asked.

"All those papers of yours were gone. I just assumed..." Michael trailed off.

"A mage never leaves her spells laying around for just anyone to find. What if you tried to read it, and hurt yourself? I would never forgive myself." Sherry explained.

"Oh." Michael said.

..

.

"I think I had better throw that TV dinner in the microwave." Michael said.

He paused his movie and went to get up, but Sherry blocked him.

"You're not going in MY kitchen!" Sherry insisted.

"But..." Michael tried to protest.

"I said no!" Sherry insisted.

She took off for the kitchen, leaving Michael dumbfounded.

.

~Hours Later~

.

After watching some of his war movies, Michael turned his eyes to the kitchen. He had hoped Sherry was making him his little dinner, but there had been no sign of her. Although he did know she was still in there, because she was making a racket with all the dishes and pots and pans clanging around against each other.

"Hey Sherry?" Michael called.

All the noise in the kitchen abruptly stopped.

"Yes sweetie~?" Sherry sang.

"Could you throw that TV dinner in the microwave for me please?" Michael asked nicely.

"Not quite yet sweetie. There's a mess of dishes to do. I've been negligent in my duties." Sherry explained.

...

"Oh... so that's what she's doing. That makes sense." Michael thought.

"Need any help?" Michael asked.

"Now now sweetie, you know better than to ask that." Sherry chastized lightly.

...

A few minutes passed.

...

Glancing over towards the kitchen, Michael could clearly see Sherry doing the dishes.

"I hope she gets done soon. I'm starting to feel antsy, which means my blood sugar is going down again. Damn hypoglycemia!" Michael thought.

...

He sat back deeper in his chair, and cracked a smile.

"Although, this is the best thanksgiving I've ever had. I'm not alone! It's more than I could have ever asked for. I'm going to give her a big kiss when we go to bed tonight." Michael thought.

*CLINK

Suddenly Sherry appeared in front of him with a plate heaped with food. Michael's eyes nearly bugged out.

"That! That that that!" Michael stammered badly.

"That's thanksgiving dinner. I made it for you." Sherry said, smiling.

It was a very beautifully presented plate full of all the finest that thanksgiving had to offer. Juicy luscious turkey, moist stuffing, candied sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, sweet bread rolls dripping in butter, and sautéed brussel sprouts. Her other hand held a smaller plate with a piece of pecan pie.

"I went to visit some friends who made suggestions on what to cook for you. We don't have any holidays like this where I come from, so I hope it's right." Sherry said, smiling.

She offered him the plates.

"Nononono... we have to go eat at the island!" Michael said.

He slid out of his chair, and the two of them went over to the kitchen island. She placed the plates down, and then sat across from him.

*SNAP!

The whole kitchen shimmered, and the illusion was taken away. Where once there was an empty kitchen with nothing going on, there was suddenly a very busy kitchen with all sorts of pots and pans strewn everywhere, each one filled with hot food.

"So THAT'S why you didn't want me going in the kitchen!" Michael reasoned.

"Mistress forgive me if I were to let you walk into the kitchen and accidentally touch the stove without knowing it was hot." Sherry explained.

"Oooooohhhhh~ Okay~" Michael nodded.

He picked up a fork and knife, and very carefully sliced off a perfect bite sized chunk of the turkey.

*NOM!

...

..

"Well? I've never cooked anything like a turkey before. The closest I've ever dealt with was a demon realm chicken." Sherry asked.

Michael gave a thumbs up as he kept chewing.

"Best... thanksgiving...ever!" Michael exclaimed, mouth full.

"Really? Surely you've had good ones before." Sherry said.

"TV dinners and bottles of whiskey." Michael reminded.

"But I was told that this is a holiday that is celebrated amongst family. Didn't your mother ever cook turkey?" Sherry asked.

Michael fell silent. He didn't answer her question right away, instead choosing to eat his wonderful dinner for a while.

...

"Well sweetie? Please don't ignore my question. I really wish to know." Sherry pressed.

"I asked my parents for a thanksgiving dinner once. They gave me a can of water chestnuts and told me to shut up and go away." Michael recalled.

"Ick!" Sherry gagged.

"I guess they didn't want to bother making me something nice when I was just a sick kid, so they left me at home and went out to a restaurant to eat." Michael recalled.

"That's cruel! How could they?!" Sherry demanded.

"That's just how they were. My old man would eat a great big juicy steak for dinner, and I'd get a bowl of cereal or peanut butter and jelly. Or if we had chicken for dinner, they'd get the breast and thighs while I got the back." Michael recalled.

"There's hardly two bites worth of meat on the back of a chicken!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael shrugged.

"I'm in the unique position to appreciate just how special this dinner really is. Thank you Sherry. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you." Michael said.

"You're very welcome sweetie~. Why didn't you simply ask me to make you something, if it meant that much to you?" Sherry said softly.

"I wasn't about to ask you to make this big fancy dinner for a holiday you hadn't even heard about until the other day. It just didn't feel right." Michael explained.

...

"When do I need to pay you back?" Michael asked.

"No payment is needed sweetie. But if you insist, I'll take a kiss~" Sherry said seductively.

Michael put his utensils down in preparation of getting up to go kiss her. She waved at him to stop.

"Stay where you are sweetie. Here~" Sherry giggled.

She raised her hand under her mouth, puckered her lips, and blew him a kiss.

*Smack!

Michael jerked when he felt something actually connect with his lips. It felt as if she really kissed him.

"Wow, that felt real!" Michael exclaimed, smiling.

The sensation grew, and Michael fluttered his eyes shut. It was easy to fool himself into thinking that Sherry really was kissing him if he kept his eyes closed. He could even feel her tongue brushing against his lips, prodding and pressing for a way inside.

*Squiiish

Michael opened his eyes to find Sherry squishing her soft body against him. She really was kissing him, although he didn't know how she had gotten from the other side of the kitchen island so quickly.

"Let...me...in..." Sherry whispered between kisses.

The moment Michael parted his teeth, she plunged right on in.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmaaahhhhhhhhh~" Michael moaned.

His eyes rolled into his head, and he went limp. Thus was the power of a kiss from a succubus.

..

.

The Next Day

.

..

*Pit... pat...pit...pat

*Pomf

Alistair flopped down on the couch, in the living room of the very nice house he found himself living in. He had been out all day with Desdemona, his first wife, trying to sort out paperwork and help at her corporation. It was mentally tiring, but he insisted on helping. It was the least he could do for the posh lifestyle he found himself suddenly living.

"Master? I brought you something to drink." Crimson said.

"Aww, thank you maid-san." Alistair said kindly.

Crimson, the kikimora maid, placed down a tall ice-cold drink next to Alistair, and stood elegantly at attention ready to do anything Alistair asked.

"You were working really hard today. Is there anything I can do to help you relax?" Crimson asked sweetly.

As she asked, she knelt down and helped him pull off his shoes, and rubbed his aching feet.

"Hmm... that feels bloody good. You know just what a bloke needs before he asks~" Alistair hummed.

Slumping back in pure relaxation, he reached over and casually snatched up the remote to their huge flat screen TV.

*Click

*Click

*Click

"... has completely consumed the city of Las Vegas. Officials now say that whatever substance was placed in the water is the direct cause of the 'Monster Girl Syndrome'. The purification facilities were unable to filter it out, and every person who has used tap water has now been exposed."

*Click

"... breaking news. We now take you live to our news room for a special report."

...

"Ladies and gentlemen watching this transmission, we have a special announcement. Earlier today we were offered anonymous information regarding the whereabouts of one Michael Collins, age 25, currently on the FBI's most wanted list. This information contained the following video clip, shot two days ago."

Alistair sat up straighter in his seat, which provoked a protest from Crimson.

"Hold off on that luv, this is important!" Alistair said, waving.

The image on the television changed to an amateurish video seemingly taken on someone's phone. In the video, Michael Collins was clearly visible, standing on an enclosed patio porch.

"...I've had nightmares... about the day when I'll have to pick up a rifle and protect myself from those who think I'm a criminal..."

...

Desdemona strolled into the room and saw the tv report.

"It looks like he's doing okay now. I guess he's over whatever the heck that was the other day." Desdemona noted.

...

The reporter on the television kept on with his report.

"Shortly after making this divisive and hostile speech, there were reports of a raging gun battle between multiple armed terrorists and the U.S. National Guard forces in the area. Reports are conflicting as to whether the terrorist Michael Collins survived."

"Oh bloody hell! No!" Alistair cried, shocked.

He grabbed his phone and began dialing Michael. It rang... and rang... and rang...

*click

"Hello?" Michael said over the phone.

"Mike! Thank god! Are you okay?" Alistair asked over the phone.

"Uh... yeah? Why do you ask?" Michael asked over the phone.

"Because the bloody news said you bought it!" Alistair exclaimed over the phone.

...

"Oh! Yeah that's right! There was a little bit of an incident the other day." Michael said over the phone.

"LITTLE? Bloody hell! They said there was a firefight!" Alistair exclaimed.

"That's not exactly true. Look, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this over the phone. How about we go catch a late lunch?" Michael suggested over the phone.

Alistair sighed.

"Okay Mike. Where'd you want to eat?" Alistair asked over the phone.

"Let's talk about it in person. I'll be over there in a second, alright?" Michael said over the phone.

"Alright. I'll see you in a..." Alistair tried to say over the phone.

*Knockknockknock...

"Second..." Alistair finished.

Crimson hopped up and danced over to the door, where she greeted their visitors.

"Hello sir and ma'am! Would you like to come in?" Crimson asked cheerfully.

Crimson escorted Michael and Sherry into the living room, where Alistair jumped up and stuck out his hand.

*SMACK

The two men's hands clasped firmly, and they entered a grapple to see who would budge first.

"What is this? Predator? You're no Arnold Schwarzenegger, maple man!" Michael asked, gritting his teeth.

"But you are! Bloody hell!" Alistair exclaimed.

He cheated by using both hands, but it wasn't any good. Michael still won.

"Raaaaaahhhh! Victory!" Michael roared.

Michael bent down and swept Alistair up all at once, lifted him nearly over his head, and swung him around.

"GAAAAAAHHH!" Alistair cried.

*THUD

Michael planted him back down on his feet, dizzy and confused.

...

"Guh!" Michael grunted.

Alistair sucker punched him in the gut, and they both collapsed laughing onto the couch.

...

Meanwhile, Sherry and the others were all looking at each other in confusion.

"Boys?" Desdemona questioned.

"Boys." Sherry agreed.

...

..

~Later

..

...

Michael, Sherry, Alistair, Desdemona, and Crimson were all clustered around the TV. Michael was flipping through the channels.

"Here you go. Watch this news channel instead. They aren't full of horse shit like that other one. It's local, so they actually have a clue." Michael said.

...

"Is that... no way, that's you!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Yep!" Michael said cheerfully.

He settled back into the couch and watched the news. The television was playing a recording of an interview he had done earlier that day. There were three people in the interview room. Michael himself, a male newscaster, and a female newscaster.

...

..

.

"Thanks for having me." Michael said.

"The pleasure is all ours. Although, we're surprised you're willing to come out into the open like this. Aren't you wanted?" The newscaster man asked.

"It's always nice to be wanted~" Michael quipped.

The three of them all chuckled.

"In all seriousness though, my wife is outside to make sure those federales don't bother us. I've always enjoyed watching your network, so I knew for sure that I wanted to come here and talk to you. Despite the warrant." Michael explained.

"So you're wanted by the federal government, and yet here you are in our interview room. Would you care to explain before continuing?" The newscasters asked.

"You know... I had a discussion with a police officer recently. She pointed out that I don't even have so much as a parking ticket on my record. Now all of a sudden I'm on the FBI most wanted list. You tell me what you think, because I think it's unjust." Michael said.

Both newscasters nodded.

"It's my understanding that you want to help clarify some of the questions people are having about the monster girl plague?" The newscaster woman asked.

"Ah, that's the perfect place to start. Right off the bat... it's not a plague. There is no bacteria, virus, or parasite in play here." Michael clarified.

"Then what is it exactly?" The newscaster asked.

"Well... the monster girls like to call it mana, and the people who hate monster girls call it demonic energy. But whatever you call it, it's a type of energy that we've never encountered before." Michael explained.

"Energy... like radiation?" The newscaster woman asked.

"The word radiation doesn't necessarily mean anything. But in context, what you're referring to is Ionizing Radiation, which this is not. Whatever kind of energy this is, doesn't harm people. I will admit though, it does have some strange effects on the air, which can make things a little hard to breathe. Don't ask me how, I have no idea." Michael explained.

"Is there a cure?" The newscaster man asked.

Michael chuckled.

"Asking if there's a cure implies it does something bad. But the answer is... no. You can't undo the effects it has on the body. Not that anyone would want to." Michael explained.

"But what about the mutations? Some of these people aren't even recognizable anymore!" The newscaster woman exclaimed.

"I like to think about it like the mutants from X-Men. Sure they're mutated, but in a good way. So what if someone grew some wings or scales, when they have cool super powers and the strength of ten strong men?" Michael argued.

...

"It's hard to argue against that." The newscaster man said.

...

"So changing the topic... what can you tell us about Searraigh Fontaine?" The newscaster man asked.

"What would you like to know? I'll answer if I can." Michael said.

"I suppose the burning question is... why did she attack the White House?" The newscaster woman asked.

Michael nodded his head.

"Yes... that. So, you're familiar with the story that broke a while ago about some monster girls being shot by the national guard? Well, it turns out that it wasn't a riot at all. It was an escape attempt from a prison camp. The federales were experimenting on the monster girls to try to learn how they tick." Michael explained.

"Oh my!" The newscasters both exclaimed.

...

"They committed inhumane experiments on those people, some of which were maimed for life. My wife came and broke up the camp, and stopped the experiments." Michael explained.

"Do you have any proof or evidence to back up your claim? Those are some serious charges." The newscaster man asked.

Michael produced a USB stick drive from his pocket.

"It's all right here. Photographs, written testimony from both the victims and the soldiers who were standing guard, fingerprints, captured test samples, and audio testimony taken from the lead scientist." Michael explained.

He handed over the stick drive.

"And most importantly... the signed orders from Michael Dugan and his chief of staff to conduct the experiments." Michael added.

"My god." The newscaster woman murmured.

"Be careful what pictures you show on live television. It's very graphic." Michael warned.

...

"If this is true, this is very damning. But what does this have to do with the attack at the White House?" The newscaster man asked.

"When my wife learned that the former president had given the order to hurt those innocent people, she went ballistic. She went there to stop him from ever giving another order like that again. She wanted to make it crystal clear that hurting innocent people will not be tolerated." Michael explained.

"So you support her actions?" The newscaster woman asked.

"No. Not in the slightest. The way she went about it was completely wrong. I do not condone using force against anyone unless you have no other choice." Michael explained.

"If that's true, do you care to explain the firefight that happened outside your home the other day?" The newscaster man asked.

"By definition, a firefight involves two parties shooting at each other. The only people who did any shooting was the army, when they drove up and riddled my apartment with bullet holes like a bunch of gang bangers doing a drive by shooting." Michael recounted.

...

"Which by the way, you can find photographs of that on the stick drive too. I documented everything." Michael added.

"If you never shot back, then what happened to the army?" The newscaster woman asked.

"My wife used her magic to stop the attack peacefully, by sending the men away. I imagine they're being well treated at the hands of various monster girls across the country." Michael said.

"Magic isn't real." The newscaster man blurted.

...

"I'm glad you said that. Check this out!" Michael said.

He clapped his hands together loudly.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry appeared at his side, startling both newscasters and everyone behind the cameras.

"You summoned me sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"Yes I did. Is this a good time?" Michael asked.

"Certainly sweetie. I put up a ward to block those rude soldiers from interrupting your meeting. They won't be bothering us." Sherry explained.

Sherry slid into his lap and gently draped her arms over his shoulders.

"Could you show these nice people an example of your magic skills?" Michael asked nicely.

"Certainly!" Sherry said cheerfully.

*Niiiirow

A beautiful flower made of flame appeared in the air above them. The cameras tilted upwards to focus on it. It only lasted a few moments, seemingly blooming before disappearing forever.

"Wow! That's beautiful!" The newscaster woman exclaimed.

Sherry's devilish eyes settled on that female newscaster.

*Niiiiirow!

Sherry disappeared in a poof of crimson... and then reappeared a few moments later standing behind that newscaster.

"Eep! Wow! You turned invisible!" The female newscaster exclaimed nervously.

"Don't worry dear, there's nothing to fear from me. Tell me, after all the questions you've asked my husband, are you interested in joining us?" Sherry asked.

"Well, not really." The newscaster woman said, uncertain.

"Don't be dishonest with yourself. I know you envy those who have turned. I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your quickening heartbeat." Sherry said.

She gently laid a hand on the newscaster's shoulder. The woman flinched away.

"Please don't touch me. You're too close!" The newscaster woman said nervously.

"Don't be offended miss. She's not from around here, and she doesn't mean anything bad. It's just the way she is." Michael interjected.

That seemed to settle the newscaster down a bit, and Sherry gently laid her hand on her shoulder again.

"Hmm... yes. You do hold great envy for us. You worry about growing old someday, and you've seen the youth and beauty of the inma around you. We become young and beautiful, even when we were old as humans. Yes. Much envy. And desire." Sherry hummed.

The newscaster woman's eyes fluttered shut.

"It's okay to be honest. Let go of your worries, and tell the truth. Speak from the heart. Do you wish to become an inma?" Sherry questioned gently.

"I... do." The newscaster woman admitted hesitantly.

"Then dear... open your eyes." Sherry instructed.

The newscaster opened her eyes, and saw both Michael and the other newscaster watching her in shock. She had become a succubus in mere moments. Gone was the older woman who was hiding her age with makeup and jewelry. Gone was the human woman who felt nervous and afraid to admit her feelings. Born was the new woman, the new inma.

"How do you feel dear?" Sherry asked.

"Wonderful! I feel like a thousand pounds just got lifted off my shoulders!" The newscaster succubus answered happily.

...

..

.

*BRRRRRRZZZZT!

The TV made a loud annoying sound, the picture went black, and then... silence.

"What happened?" Alistair asked.

"I don't know. There's supposed to be a lot more here. I discussed mamono for at least an hour, trying to reassure everyone that they're not dangerous." Michael said.

He clicked the remote, and the TV changed to another channel. Those channels appeared just fine, but the one they had been watching was gone.

"Did they... shut down the broadcast?" Alistair asked.

"That's just the kind of bullshit the Man would do. Frackers." Michael spat.

He pulled out his old nokia, and fired off a quick text message.

"What's that?" Alistair asked.

...

*BEEP

"Remember that old thing we used to joke about when we were all bum frack poor and we wanted to try the new games without paying 60 bucks?" Michael asked.

"Sixty bucks... and then have the game turn out to be shit? Yeah I remember. When in doubt... Arrrrr Matey it." Alistair recalled.

...

"Check the bay. Look for my name." Michael said.

"The bay?" Desdemona asked.

"The Pirate Bay luv. Our old stomping grounds." Alistair explained.

He pulled out his phone, and quickly looked it up.

"Bloody hell! It's already got thousands of seeders!" Alistair exclaimed.

"When in doubt, Arrrr Matey it." Michael repeated.

"I can't believe you pirate things!" Desdemona exclaimed, shocked.

"Not anymore luv. That's all behind me. Nowadays I spend my time buying the things I pirated." Alistair said.

"Yep. Same here. But it is a good way to share data without anyone being able to stop it. And trust me, they've tried." Michael said.

"I'm confused. What's happening?" Sherry asked.

"The federales are trying to stop my pro inma interview from getting out, but we have another way of spreading it. But... I imagine millions of people saw that interview in full before they shut it down. So I don't know what they're trying to accomplish." Michael said.

"As usual, the government is out of their collective minds." Desdemona said.

...

"Perhaps we should leave for lunch now?" Sherry suggested.

"Right. Let's go maple man!" Michael said cheerfully.

...

So the three of them bade farewell to Desdemona and Crimson, both of which declined the offer to join them for lunch. Sherry produced the Duster, and used magic to make it grow from hotwheel size to full size. Michael slid behind the wheel.

"Do ya think we could do a burnout or a donut, or something awesome on the way there?" Alistair asked, as he got in the back seat.

"I'll see what I can do~" Michael said, smiling.

...

~Later~

...

Michael and crew pulled into the parking lot of the retro diner where they were going to eat. It was the same diner that Michael had taken Sherry on their first date. First Michael and Sherry got out, and then Alistair crawled out of the back seat when Sherry pushed the seat forward for him. The nanosecond Alistair was out of the car, he bent down and looked at the back tires on the Duster.

"They're still smoldering! Bloody hell!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Hehe, yeah~" Michael chuckled evilly.

"Come Sir Grey, and let us feast together." Sherry said formally.

"Sir Grey?" Alistair asked, surprised.

"Of course! You shall be a hero in my domain, as a reward for introducing my husband to inma!" Sherry insisted.

Michael broke into fits of laughter as he strolled through the double doors of the diner.

...

Shortly later, the three of them found themselves sitting down in a booth. They ordered the most classic of classics... the burger, fries, and a coke.

"This is one bloody amazing town you have Mike!" Alistair exclaimed.

"You can thank Sherry for everything." Michael said.

"I heard a rumor that something's happening at an abandoned theater over on 5th and B. What's going on, or is it not proper to ask?" Alistair asked.

"Well... I don't want to say much. Just in case someone's listening." Michael said quietly.

"Can you drop a hint?" Alistair asked.

...

"We're going to have a Chell moment." Michael said quietly, winking.

It took Alistair a second, but comprehension etched his face. Sherry looked at Michael sideways with furrowed eyebrows.

"...yesssssssssss." Alistair hissed happily.

Alistair formed a wicked but happy smile on his face, and he wrung his hands in anticipation.

"Oh my word... more cuties running around... ohh..." Alistair murmured excitedly.

"It'll be T and A as far as the eye can see." Michael grinned.

Right around then, their food showed up. The cute bouncy waitress placed the plates down with a smile, and asked them if they wanted anything else.

"We'll have a round of milkshakes after we're done with the burgers." Michael advised.

And with that, the waitress was gone. Michael started sliding out of the seat.

"I'm going to go wash my hands again before I start eating. I was fiddling with the Duster before we came, so I have gasoline on my hands. Be right back." Michael explained.

And with that, Michael also walked away. As soon as he was out of hearing range, Sherry turned towards Alistair.

"Sir Grey, please answer a question for me." Sherry blurted.

"Forty two, luv." Alistair said, smiling.

...

"What's forty two?" Sherry asked.

"The answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything." Alistair said, matter of fact.

"No! That's not what I'm asking! I must know the details of the game you and he played... the build-your-own-bicorn-harem game!" Sherry insisted.

Alistair straightened a little and cocked his head.

"Well you know about it already, or you wouldn't have started mine. What do you want to know exactly?" Alistair asked, suspicious.

"What were his choices? I wish to know what monster girls sweetie finds attractive!" Sherry clarified.

"oooOOOOoooo is that it? Well now. Hehe~." Alistair chuckled evilly.

Sherry looked up and saw Michael exit the restroom.

"Quickly! What were they?" Sherry asked in urgent hushed tones.

"Well... obviously the bicorn harem would require a bicorn, but I don't think they're his favorite per se. And obviously, he likes succubii." Alistair said, rubbing his chin.

"Yes yes. And?" Sherry pressed, impatient.

"Kraken was one of them." Alistair added.

Sherry remained silent so as to not interrupt him. He rubbed his chin more, trying to recall the information.

"Cupid... oh and Bunyip!" Alistair continued.

Michael paused on the way back to the table to briefly say something to another patron, thus granting Sherry several more precious seconds.

"Inari and Automaton. That's it, although I know he likes most of them." Alistair finished.

Right after Alistair finished, Michael walked up and sat down.

"So did I miss any interesting conversation?" Michael asked.

"We were just talking about harems." Alistair blurted.

Sherry felt the bottom of her stomach fall out. Alistair had given her the precious information, but he was also going to blow the whole thing to Michael. Or at least... that's what she thought.

"Yeah... how are things going between you and the girls?" Michael asked.

"Peachy, like I said before." Alistair said, smiling.

"I know you said that, but Desdemona isn't here this time. So I was just making sure." Michael said.

Alistair smiled even wider.

"She's strong right enough, but she's a teddy bear at heart. And I love her to death." Alistair reassured.

...

Alistair turned to Sherry, a knowing smile on his face.

"Right, so where was I? Oh... so I'm into the undead types. I've always loved that stuff from when I was little. So that's why I asked for the lich." Alistair said smoothly.

"What's he doing? Is he... covering up our previous conversation?" Sherry thought.

"You're also a shameless furry and lolicon." Michael interjected.

Alistair took a drink and nodded in agreement.

"Yup!" Alistair cheered.

Sherry turned back and forth between them in confusion.

"What is this lolicon you speak of?" Sherry asked.

"Think the Sabbath." Michael said quietly.

"Oh! I see..." Sherry said, smiling.

"Legal lolis of course. I'm not THAT kind of pervert. But I do like them petite." Alistair added.

"Yeah... not my bag. But you do what makes you happy maple man." Michael said.

Alistair started wandering off on a flight of fancy.

"oooOOooo... a gothic undead litch loli. That's just cool~" Alistair murmured.

"Yeah kind of like Rory Mercury, just undead." Michael chuckled.

Michael turned and whispered the explanation in Sherry's ear. She smiled.

"Oh yes, you are indeed perverse enough to rule in my stead. It is quite refreshing to meet someone like you." Sherry said.

The three of them broke out laughing. At least... until her words fully sank in.

"Wait wut? Whad'ya mean by that?" Alistair asked, surprised.

"Well sir Grey, I have need for someone to watch over my domain while my husband and I... have our Chell moment." Sherry said, hesitating on the last part.

Michael nodded. She used the phrase right.

...

..

"Bloody hell! You can't possibly mean..." Alistair started.

Michael and Sherry both nodded, smiling.

"But that's daft! I haven't even been here a fortnight! Look mate, you can't just hand over power like that to a dodgy bloke like me!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Dodgy huh? Any more dodgy than her?" Michael asked, jacking his thumb at Sherry.

Sherry flashed a toothy grin.

"Now you look maple man. You might be the only real true friend I have. And you're the only person I know who I trust, who also knows about monster girls." Michael argued.

"Well..." Alistair said.

...

"I can't guarantee the whole thing won't get cocked up." Alistair said, uncertain.

"I can't guarantee that either. You just do what you can, with what you have." Michael said.

...

"Oh bollocks... fine! I'll give it a go!" Alistair relented.

He took a long swig of his coke.

"But you have to bring me back hot chicks when you go." Alistair said.

"Done." Sherry said.

...

"I can't guarantee you won't have problems with the federales." Michael countered.

"I'll take the piss right out of em." Alistair said confidently.

...

..

.

~Later During Their Meal~

.

..

...

"So why was it that your wives couldn't join us again?" Sherry asked.

"Desdemona still had more paperwork to do and some other odds and sods, Crimson wanted to catch up on the new Lost In Space, and April was upstairs sleeping." Alistair explained.

"Ah those pesky weresheep. They're always sleeping. So annoying." Sherry muttered.

"But but but, the floof! THE FLOOF!" Alistair grinned.

"See? What'd I tell ya. The man is a shameless furry." Michael shook his head.

"You know it. Not that they're the only ones I like mind you, present company considering." Alistair said, nodding.

"Of course." Sherry said, smiling.

Alistair nodded and swallowed a sip of his drink.

"Aren't you worried about being in public like this?" Alistair asked.

"Not really. Most of the town is on our side, and this diner in particular is mamono central." Michael explained.

"Sweetie brought me here on our first date. It was amazing, and so romantic! I just had to make this the go to place for all inma!" Sherry cheered.

"Yeah, and ever since then all the mamono come here to pick up guys. Just about everyone here is a mamono in disguise." Michael said.

Alistair looked around in amazement. He paused while looking over Michael's shoulder.

"Not everyone is disguised. Look!" Alistair said.

Michael and Sherry looked in the same direction he was looking, and that's when they noticed a monster girl speaking to one of the staff.

"Well well. Look what we have here." Michael said, eyes glinting mischievously.

"A shoggoth." Sherry observed, grinning lewdly.

Michael and Sherry looked at each other knowingly while Alistair continued to stare.

"Sweetie... are you thinking..." Sherry whispered.

"Yep. Go on." Michael whispered.

Sherry immediately jumped out of her seat and excused herself, heading towards the restrooms.

"What was that about?" Alistair asked.

"I guess she had to go pee." Michael lied.

...

..

.

So Michael and Alistair talked while Sherry was away, and Michael kept an eye on the shoggoth girl chatting with the staff. From the looks of it, the girl was trying to get a job as a cook or waitress.

"Hey Mike, about the Chell project." Alistair said.

"Yeah?" Michael asked.

Michael noticed Sherry walk in the front door of the diner with a certain bicorn in tow. Walk in the front door... instead of return from the restroom. He guessed that she had gone in there as a cover, and then teleported away to Desdemona's location.

"Will I ever get the chance to poke my nose around on the other side?" Alistair asked.

"Sure. It's not like we're saddling you with a 9 to 5 job. I just want someone to be handy in case things go downhill between the girls and the federales. Sherry and I plan to spend a bunch of time... on the flip side of the record. But I promise, I'll take you there personally." Michael said.

Sherry and Desdemona walked up to the shoggoth girl and began to talk to her. At one point Desdemona pointed towards Alistair. Michael wracked his brain looking for something to talk about.

"Hey, so now that you're going for your citizenship, have you picked out a gunsmithing school?" Michael asked.

"Sure have! I was looking at the Sonoran Desert Institute." Alistair said.

"I've heard of them. Supposedly they have a good rep." Michael said distantly.

The trio began to walk towards the table, and the shoggoth seemed excited.

"Well maple man, I gotta say... you're in trouble if you don't get that citizenship. Because you're going to be here a while." Michael chuckled.

"Yeah?" Alistair questioned.

Alistair turned and looked where Michael was looking, and his eyes nearly bugged out.

"Dez! When did you get here?!" Alistair blurted.

"Just now. I would like you to meet Nora." Desdemona said.

Nora the Shoggoth girl curtsied cutely, and smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir. I'm told you are looking to hire a maid?" Nora asked.

"Wha?" Alistair stammered.

Alistair looked towards Desdemona and then back to Nora... and gulped.

"I guess I am...?" Alistair said, uncertain.

"See dear, I told you he would be alright with it. You can start right away." Desdemona said cheerfully.

Nora curtsied again.

"Thank you sir, I'll do my absolute best to see to your every need." Nora said elegantly.

As she spoke, Michael spotted a strange twinkle in her eye. His knowledge of the MGE told him exactly what he was seeing. Alistair was bound to have some very interesting encounters in his near future.

"Come along now dear, it's time to take you to the house. Come home soon babe!" Desdemona said.

The two of them wandered out of the diner and Alistair watched them go. When they walked out, he fist pumped in the air.

"YESSSSSSSSS! God I love being alive! I have two maid-sans now!" Alistair cheered.

"I bet it will be interesting to see when your maid-sans go at it over who gets to spoil you rotten. Crimson will want to serve you hand and foot... and Nora will want to serve you hand, foot, spoon, frying pan, and couch." Michael chuckled.

"Oh dear, the thought of it. Two beautiful women playing tug of war with you as the rope. Back and forth... each one pleading with you to pick them. Kikikifufufuhahaha." Sherry laughed.

Alistair's eyes lit up like Vegas billboard sign, and he quickly got up out of his seat.

"I think I had better go home. Uh... g'day!" Alistair exclaimed.

Alistair quickly hustled out and chased after his new and old companion. Michael and Sherry broke out laughing.

...

..

.

"We'll get a container for maple man's food and teleport it to him when we're done. And I need to remember to call Desdemona when I get the chance." Michael said.

"Oh? Regarding what?" Sherry asked lightly.

"She runs a pharmaceutical company, and I wanted her help getting medical supplies. I want to have it handy when we have our Chell moment." Michael said.

Sherry nodded.

"Anything else?" Sherry asked.

"Well..." Michael said hesitantly.

Sherry snapped her fingers at the first sign of Michael's hesitation.

"There. Now no outsiders may listen in." Sherry said.

"Why didn't you do that earlier with Alistair?" Michael asked.

"Because you looked like you were having fun being all dramatic by using secret words." Sherry giggled.

...

"Riiiiiiight. Okay then." Michael said dryly.

"Remind me again sweetie, what was your goal in bringing gifts to mistress Druella?" Sherry asked.

"Oh boy. It's one hell of a long answer. Lots and lots of reasons." Michael said.

"You have my full attention my love." Sherry said sweetly.

"Well, the first reason is a matter of goodwill. You see... back in the early days of exploration here on earth, the explorers would often bring back new and exciting trinkets and goods from the new world and give them to the king or queen who bank-rolled their expedition." Michael explained.

"Yes, they do that in my world as well. So you desire money?" Sherry asked.

"HA! Like I need it! I think you've taken care of that quite nicely." Michael laughed.

"Agreed. So what is your goal?" Sherry asked.

"A side effect of those explorers bringing those things back to the old world, was how the average population got to see new things. The king and queen or other royalty would be showing off all their cool new stuff. That would make the common folk want it too, which would prompt more explorers, and then merchants. Entire cultures were traded on that basis. Including this very country." Michael explained at length.

"Really? How did that happen?" Sherry asked.

"Well, it all started with the fall of a city known as Constantinople. At the time, it was the center waypoint for a long line of trade between Europe and Asia. But some jerks conquered it, renamed it Istanbul, and charged an expensive tariff on everything passing through their territory." Michael explained.

"Which means the traders would begin looking for new trade routes." Sherry reasoned.

"Exactly! Now at the time, the only other route to Asia was by sea around the cape of Africa. Which is a long, expensive, and inefficient route. So people started looking for a way to sail directly to Asia. That's how this continent was discovered." Michael explained.

...

"Oh and by the way, fun fact. Those people who are trying to kill us in the middle east have only themselves to blame for this country's existance. Joke's on them." Michael quipped.

...

"Anyways, when the explorers got to the Americas... they found all kinds of cool stuff to bring back home. The royals showed it all off, and then the next thing we knew, there was a ton of people coming here looking for more stuff. Thus... trade began in the Americas." Michael explained.

"So you wish to have mamono explorers and merchants come here in search of new 'stuff' as you put it." Sherry reasoned.

"Yep, which means there will be a cultural trade. It benefits everyone in the end, including earthlings going to your world in search of new stuff. Imagine thousands of eager men waltzing through the portal in search of trading partners." Michael said with a wink.

"Oh they'll find partners alright." Sherry giggled.

...

"Besides that, there's other reasons why I want to bring stuff to your world." Michael said.

"Such as?" Sherry asked.

Michael paused to take a bite of his burger, and sat back in his seat while waving a french fry around.

"I had this wild idea, and I think it's a good one. First, I'll lay down a little background. How old are you Sherry?" Michael asked.

"Sixteen by my calendar. Something different by yours." Sherry said.

"You are twenty three by my calendar, which is 365 days long. Your calendar is 526 days long." Michael recounted.

"Yes I recall this conversation. You thought you were married to an underage woman, when I wasn't underage. What has this have to do with the portal?" Sherry asked.

"I'm getting to that. In this 526 day calendar... are your seasons proportional? In my world, there are four seasons which each roughly take up a quarter of the year. How about yours?" Michael asked.

"The same. Four seasons." Sherry said.

"So it would make sense that the crops that grow on your world evolved in a way that adapts them to the longer seasons. So what if we introduced seeds from my world, which are adapted to shorter growing seasons?" Michael suggested.

...

The full implications of Michael's idea hit her like a truckload of clue.

"You mean to tell me... just by bringing seed from your world... no it's impossible. Right?" Sherry asked in disbelief.

Michael held up a french fry.

"You have potatoes in your world? These ones take as low as 80 to 90 days to be ready to harvest." Michael said, grinning.

She was practically shaking in excitement.

"So, do you think the Maoyu could make use of that?" Michael asked slyly.

"YES! Goodness, that would essentially end starvation! You would be declared a hero in my world!" Sherry burst.

Michael chuckled and took a long draw of his drink.

"But surely you wish to have something in return." Sherry reasoned.

"Sure I do. I want inma to come to this world in search of things... and teach us magic while they're here." Michael said.

"OoOooooOOOoooohhhhh~" Sherry said, grinning.

"Maybe we have a lot of advancements in this world, but there are still a lot of things we can't do. Like for example... instantly heal wounds." Michael explained.

"So you're interested in Pharmacomancy. Interesting. I would have thought you would want to learn how to throw fireballs and other such impressive things." Sherry said.

"Of course I'm interested in the cool stuff, but I'm also trying to be practical. Right now my world needs people who can heal wounds, not make new ones. We know plenty enough already about making holes in people." Michael said.

"This is true. I witnessed as much for myself." Sherry said.

...

"Which reminds me. Just a side note, but I did travel to this place known as a hospital, where I used my meager knowledge of healing on that police officer who helped us against those cultists." Sherry noted.

"That's nice to know. Thanks." Michael said.

...

"I digress. You were saying?" Sherry said.

"Yeah. So, I believe that we could help each other. I recall how frightened you were when I scratched my arm in Las Vegas. You were deathly afraid of infection." Michael recalled.

"Disease kills countless numbers every year. Especially in the Order. The numbers are not really known." Sherry said softly.

"What if I told you that no longer has to happen. We have medicines that can stop infection in its tracks. Think about it. Scarlet fever, small pox, the black plague... they could all go away. Just look around you if you don't believe me. Is anyone sick here?" Michael asked.

Sherry looked around herself.

"Mamono are protected from such diseases, but even an incubus can be killed by them. Our precious men. Our beloved men... getting sick and dying... and we can't do anything about it! There's simply not enough white mages to go around!" Sherry explained.

"Can a white mage cure an infection?" Michael asked.

"Yes, to a degree. But only by amplifying the body's natural fighting response. If the sick person has no natural defense, then even a white mage could not save him. Depending on the disease, the whole process can take a long time. And there are never enough white mages." Sherry explained.

"What I'm offering is medicine that can be handed out by anyone who has the basic understanding of how that medicine works. It can be shipped anywhere, is relatively cheap to make, and would immediately knock back the disease even if that person has no natural defense." Michael explained.

"What is this miracle medicine called?" Sherry asked.

"Penicillin." Michael said.

"Then we must acquire a great deal of this penicillin!" Sherry said firmly.

"That's what we need Desdemona for. Penicillin... and a few other medicines similar to it." Michael said.

Right as he finished his sentence, a waitress appeared with some milk shakes.

"Uh... we'll go see her right after we polish those off." Michael said, grinning.

"Hehe~ Agreed~" Sherry giggled.

*Sluuuuuuuuuuuuurp

"Hmmm... you got me chocolate~" Sherry hummed.

"I know you love it." Michael said.

"I love you more." Sherry said seductively.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael and Sherry drove back to Desdemona's swank house to pay a visit to Alistair and his ladies. They could have teleported the food in and left it at that, but Sherry convinced Michael that it would be better to speak to Desdemona in person.

"Something of this importance demands a face to face meeting." Sherry claimed.

"I'm not so sure it's going to make a difference. She's probably going to say no anyways." Michael said.

*Knockknockknock

...

It was taking a while for someone to open the door.

...

"I wonder what's taking them so long." Michael said quietly.

He reached for the doorbell, but Sherry caught his hand.

"Both of the maids are on the other side arguing who has seniority, and who should answer the door." Sherry said distantly.

"You have really good ears." Michael complimented.

Her head tilted towards the door, and her sharp succubus ear listened carefully.

.

..

...

"OPEN THE DOOR AT ONCE! THIS IS YOUR MISTRESS SPEAKING!" Sherry commanded loudly.

Even Michael could hear the scrambling reaction on the other side. Both girls had their hands firmly on the knob as the door swung open.

"Thank you. I shall see myself in." Sherry said evenly.

The duo made their way in with both maids bowing and apologizing for making them wait.

"We wish to speak to the lady and master of the house." Sherry said formally.

The two maids didn't hesitate a second before escorting them straight to the living room. Alistair and Desdemona were there shortly later. Michael offered up the doggie box to Alistair.

"You didn't finish your chow maple man." Michael said.

Alistair took the container graciously and they all sat down.

"Lady Desdemona, sweetie here would like to discuss a matter of the utmost importance." Sherry said.

"Sure, what do you need Mr. Collins?" Desdemona asked.

Michael proceeded to explain everything he had explained to Sherry in the diner, including more details and some specific thoughts he was having. Desdemona listened politely the entire time and nodded in agreement with several of Michael's points. Alistair also nodded in a similar fashion.

"So can your company help out at all? I can pay for the supplies and for some advice from any pharmacists you might personally know." Michael offered.

...

"Maybe you're not aware, but medicines like that require a prescription. You can't just hand it over to anyone." Desdemona said.

"Yeah but... I was hoping we could find a way around that." Michael said, hopeful.

"We probably could, but... this stuff can be dangerous if you don't use it correctly. And you're no doctor." Desdemona said.

"I'm aware of that, which is why I wanted to start out with safer stuff. The 'cillin antibiotics, like penicillin and amoxicillin. Stuff I know like the back of my hand." Michael said.

"If you know it so well... prove it." Desdemona said, crossing her arms.

"The correct dose for amoxicillin for an upper respiratory infection for an adult male is 500 milligrams twice daily for ten days. Take with water." Michael said instantly.

...

..

.

"Well Dez? Is he right?" Alistair asked.

"He's right. But how the hell..." Desdemona started to say.

"I was sick a lot when I was a kid. I had probably taken a cargo container of that shit by the time I was eighteen." Michael said.

"Gees Mike." Alistair said quietly.

...

Michael sighed.

"It started when I was ten or so years old. Massive respiratory infections, bronchitis, wheezing, the whole nine yards. My parents took me to the doctors, and they decided to give me adult doses of amoxicillin. In fact, they gave me 1000 milligrams twice daily the first few times." Michael recalled.

"Damn!" Desdemona exclaimed.

"That tore up my stomach though, so they lowered it to 500 milligrams, twice daily. And after that, like clockwork, every month and a half I would get sick again. Massive respiratory infection requiring antibiotics. They gave me an albuterol inhaler too. Every month and a half. Over, and over, and over again." Michael recalled.

...

"Eventually, the doctors began asking questions. Where was I living? What was making me sick? Who was I around to make me sick?" Michael recalled.

"Reasonable questions." Desdemona noted.

"Yeah, but not questions my parents were willing to answer. So they stopped taking me to the doctors. They were afraid of child protective services coming and seeing the nasty shithole we lived in." Michael recalled.

!

Sherry sat upright as straight as an arrow.

"And of course... I got sick. I remember... I was flat on my back with a 106 degree fever and a wet towel on me to bring it under control. Barely able to breathe. My parents refused to take me to the doctors because of the questions." Michael recalled.

Desdemona placed a hand over her mouth in shock. Sherry looked angry enough to commit murder.

...

"I remember looking towards the doorway to my bedroom. I saw a man standing there. He was all black... ashy... like smoke or a shadow. And he had flaming red eyes, which were just staring right at me. Silently. Not moving or speaking at all. And when I blinked, he was gone. I'm convinced I was on the verge of death, and that... man... was waiting to take me away." Michael recalled.

"Charon." Sherry murmured.

...

"Eventually I managed to get better, but it took a week longer than normal. After seeing what I saw, there was no way in hell I was ever going to let myself die like that. Not in that shithole. So I scraped together every penny I had and went to the pet store and bought amoxicillin." Michael recalled.

"You bought fish antibiotics?!" Desdemona exclaimed.

"I had no choice! What the hell else was I supposed to do? I couldn't afford to go to the doctor's office! For thirty bucks, I got enough meds to keep me alive for more than six months! And besides, my parents told me that if CPS came, I would end up somewhere even worse than I already was. I'd end up... in a foster home." Michael explained, shuddering.

...

"It's not like it was a big deal. It's the exact same medication, made in the same factory, to the same specifications as the stuff meant for humans. It was either that or die. What would you do?" Michael asked.

"I don't know what I would do. But... I suppose..." Desdemona said reluctantly.

"At one point or another I went to the library and started reading. I read every damn book that library had on medicines, and learned all about things like penicillin, and doxycycline, tetracycline, and azithromycin. " Michael recalled.

...

"I kept self medicating like that until the day I turned 18, and moved out for good. Then I didn't get sick anymore." Michael recalled.

...

..

.

"Did you ever figure out why you got sick all the time?" Desdemona asked.

"Yeah. I figured it out a while later, after I stopped getting sick. You see... the north wall of my bedroom was solid black mold." Michael said casually.

Alistair immediately gagged while Desdemona turned and covered her face. Sherry's face looked ashen.

"I wish I could travel back in time and rescue you from that horrid place." Sherry muttered.

.

..

...

"So, are you going to sell me those meds, or are you afraid of a few questions like my parents were? Am I going to have to go visit my old friend the pet store?" Michael asked.

"God no! I'll sell you the antibiotics!" Desdemona cried.

"Good! Thank you! That's going to help save a lot of lives!" Michael said, smiling.

"But I want you to talk to a doctor friend of mine first, before you give any of it out to patients!" Desdemona blurted.

...

"Fine. I can agree to that." Michael said.

"And I want a real doctor to go to the other side to supervise." Desdemona insisted.

"That's fine. I want that too. I'm an electronics technician, not a doctor." Michael said.

Desdemona sighed, and composed herself.

"Okay Mr. Collins, what do you want to buy?" Desdemona asked.

"Amoxicillin, Penicillin, Tetraycycline because it's safer than doxy, Ciprofloxacin, and Sulfa for those who are allergic to Penicillin." Michael said.

...

"Oh, and a big freaking heaping pile of ibuprofen and multivitamins. And a bunch of copies of the Physicians' Desk Reference." Michael added.

"What?" Desdemona coughed.

"Ibuprofen is a safe pain killer that isn't regulated like some of the stronger stuff. Multivitamins for anyone who has a nutrition deficiency. And the desk reference for the doctors on the other side to read." Michael explained.

...

"I need to write this all down." Desdemona muttered.

"Don't worry Dez, I've got you covered!" Alistair said cheerfully.

*BEEP

He saved the file of the notes he had been taking.

"Now I'll just text it to you and...Oh bother, I need to charge my phone again. It just died." Alistair griped.

The moment those words came from his mouth, Crimson jumped at the opportunity to be helpful and retrieve Alistair's phone charger.

"Hun, I already beat you." Nora said.

She handed the cell phone charger to Alistair with a gelatinous tentacle.

"Hey! Don't touch master with your icky goo! Would you like me to prepare a bath for you master? To wash that off?" Crimson asked.

"That's already done too. You really are too slow hun." Nora said politely.

"GRR! Well I already laid out the table and started dinner so HA!" Crimson countered.

"Thank you, but master already has his silverware laid out and won't need yours. Come, I'll help you eat your meal master." Nora said sweetly.

Michael was shaking his head and trying to hide his massive smile as Alistair was roughly dragged off without ever having the chance to charge that phone or send the email.

"Those two have been at it nonstop ever since Nora showed up. Al really enjoys it though." Desdemona said, annoyed.

"The man loves his maid-sans." Michael said, grinning.

Desdemona shook her head again and then focused her attention on Michael.

"I'll get those meds ordered and delivered as soon as possible. Where do you want them sent?" Desdemona asked.

"The theater on 5th and B." Michael said.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Sherry and Michael appeared in their apartment, and they stepped out of the glowing circle of magic on the floor. As soon as they got there, Michael noticed Sherry doing an uncomfortable crab-like shuffle.

"Do you have to pee or something?" Michael asked kindly.

"Well now that you mention it... wait... NO! Darn it sweetie!" Sherry exclaimed.

She went to Michael's desk, where she produced a thick wad of printer paper.

*THUD!

She dropped it on the desk, and then sank into Michael's chair.

"I find myself in a bit of a pickle. On one hand, I must complete this work. On the other hand, I don't want to complete this work." Sherry grumbled.

"Can I help?" Michael offered.

"NO! That's even worse! If you're nearby, I can't think at all because I get super turned on! But if you're not nearby, I can't think at all because I miss you and get awfully itchy all over!" Sherry exclaimed.

...

"So which are you better at dealing with? Being turned on, or being lonely?" Michael asked.

...

Sherry thought about it for exactly three seconds before grabbing his wrist and yanking him down into the chair with her.

"I'd rather be hopelessly turned on than lonely any day!" Sherry blurted.

And with that, she grabbed a pen and started working.

"What is this anyways?" Michael asked.

"I'm preparing notes for when we are ready to open the portal to my world. It will require a ritual, and I will have to draw a very complex magic circle on the floor. Possibly the most complex circle I've ever done in my life." Sherry said.

She pulled out a few sheets of paper she had already finished, and Michael looked at them. As expected, it was complete gibberish.

"I'm drawing it once piece at a time, so I don't make a mistake. And woe be unto us if I make a mistake." Sherry said.

Michael felt the pit fall out of his stomach.

"What... would happen if you mess up?" Michael asked nervously.

"I'll die." Sherry said.

...

"Or even worse... I will be sucked into the void between worlds, where time, magic, and energy have no meaning. I'd be lost forever and doomed to float helplessly for all eternity." Sherry added.

...

..

.

"I'm not letting you take that kind of risk." Michael said flatly.

He reached for her papers with the intention to destroy them, but Sherry caught his wrists.

"Stay your hand! I have told you the worst case because I wish to be honest, but the odds of that happening are infinitesimal!" Sherry exclaimed.

She pulled his hands back and put them in his lap.

"Such a fate has not happened to a mage in thousands of years. We have very strict safeguards against it. Please be assured, I don't wish to die any more than you do!" Sherry reassured.

"Then what's the REAL risk?" Michael asked.

"The portal consumes a great deal of mana. If I were to stop casting the spell half way, all the energy I had spent up to that point would be lost forever into the void." Sherry explained.

"That's not so bad. We would just have to wait to try again. I could live with that. What else?" Michael asked.

"If the circle is drawn incorrectly, it could go somewhere we don't want it to go. For example, another dimension where there is no air. But the good news is... I could close it quickly before all the air in this world gets sucked out." Sherry explained.

"...well... that's a relief..." Michael said, uncertain.

"And another thing. Assuming I do open the portal correctly, and nothing horrible happens, then we cannot step through it until the sun has traveled the sky at least once." Sherry said.

"Why not? What would happen?" Michael asked.

"The portal takes time to become stable when it is first opened. Should someone step through it too soon, there's no telling where they would end up. Perhaps on the other side safely, perhaps in the void, or perhaps they would go nowhere at all. There's no knowing." Sherry said.

Michael shook his head side to side.

"Maybe we should call this whole thing off." Michael said, uncertain.

*SMOOCH!

Sherry leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't worry sweetie. Just leave everything in the hands of your lover girl, and things will be just fine~" Sherry reassured.

She took her pen and began drawing again.

"There is a risk, but the reward is worth it. Of this I am certain!" Sherry insisted, determined.

*Scribblescribblescribble

"I'll take you to the Lescatie mansion, and we'll share the finest wine. I'll show you the art, and the music, and the beauty of my world. Mistress Druella will want to meet you." Sherry said.

*Scribblescribble

"Once your eyes behold her for the first time in person, you will know that all your effort was not in vain." Sherry said.

*Scribble

*Scribblescribble

"I'll take you to a place where Charon cannot reach you." Sherry thought.

"Scribblescribble

...

..

.

Sherry sighed.

"Your scent is so strong, it makes my brain turn all bubbly." Sherry muttered.

She turned her head and tried to steal a kiss, but Michael avoided it and pointed towards the half drawn sheet of paper.

"You're right of course." Sherry said quietly.

*Scribblescribble

*Scribble...

Her tail ended up wrapping around his torso.

"Darn it Mrs. Tail, I'm trying to concentrate!" Sherry protested.

She tried swatting at her own tail, but it slid out of the way. Then it waved at her, as if mocking her lame attempt to hit it.

"Grrrr..." Sherry growled.

She lunged, trying to grab her own tail, which made her end up straddling Michael. Mission accomplished.

...

..

.

"So... maybe if we did it once or twice, I could concentrate." Sherry suggested.

"You know that's not going to work. You're too greedy." Michael said flatly.

"Darn it sweetie! You don't realize how hard this is!" Sherry exclaimed, frustrated.

She leaned closer, her eyes becoming lidded.

"I can't think. I don't want to think. I just want you." Sherry murmured.

*Smooch~

*Lick~

*Pwah~

...

"No! Darn it! Darn it darn it darn it! I have to finish my work!" Sherry blurted suddenly.

She pulled away, rubbing her chin.

...

"Aha! I've got it!" Sherry exclaimed, punching her own hand.

She quickly undid Michael's belt and pants, and pulled them down.

"I'll just use one hand to draw, while I use my other off hand to touch you! That way I get the best of both worlds!" Sherry exclaimed excitedly.

"I don't know how in the hell that would help..." Michael started to say.

"I'm a succubus sweetie." Sherry interrupted.

"That's starting to sound like an excuse nowadays." Michael quipped.

...

And with one hand firmly wrapped around his cock, Sherry was able to concentrate on her work and finish drawing out all the arcane symbols and drawings she needed for the big day. Of course, it felt great for Michael too. While it seemed weird to him, he couldn't really bring himself to argue about it.

Portal Day

The day had finally come. Michael and Sherry had been eating breakfast, when they had a knock at their door. A certain danuki banker appeared, bearing a deed and a set of keys. Things moved fast from that moment, and Michael found himself hurrying to get ready for something he thought he had been already prepared for. The first thing that happened, a work crew appeared at their apartment. It turned out that the leader of that work gang was none other than that oni who had been standing on his porch not more than a couple of days before. Michael and Sherry told them what needed to be done, and the whole lot of them piled into three work trucks and took off for the theater. Around that same time, Michael got a call on his military radio.

"White rook, this is headless horseman. Come in." The radio said.

"This is white rook. Go ahead." Michael said into the radio.

"We've got a crowd forming around the building. What are your orders?" The radio said.

"Friend or foe?" Michael asked into the radio.

"Friend as far as I can tell, but they're blowing our op-sec. Should we disperse them?" The radio asked.

"No. Leave them be. I don't doubt The Man already knows something's going on there. Just keep it locked down, and don't let in anyone other than the work crews that I just sent over. Confirm." Michael said into the radio.

"Confirmed. Headless horseman clear." The radio said.

"White rook clear." Michael said into the radio.

...

Shortly after getting off the radio with Stavish, Michael and Sherry found themselves in the Duster heading to the theater. And sure enough, just as Stavish had described, the place was crowded with inma. As soon as they pulled up and parked, the car was mobbed.

"Mr. Collins! Mrs. Fontaine! Could we have a moment?" Someone cried.

A familiar face forced her way through the crowd. It was that reporter/newscaster from before, and she had a camera man in tow. Before long, Michael had that camera pointed directly at him.

"Can you tell us about the Chell Project? What's happening here?" The inma reporter asked.

Michael gaped. He couldn't believe the words that just came out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you at this time. Soon though." Michael said, chuckling.

"Can you tell me why you purchased this property? Or why you're renovating it?" The inma reporter asked.

"Not yet. Soon." Michael said.

He tried walking through the crowd, but they clung to him and made it difficult to walk.

"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY FOR YOUR MASTER!" Sherry proclaimed in a commanding voice.

The monster girls parted like the red sea, leaving Michael standing there feeling foolish.

"What the hell?" Michael murmured.

"Sorry sir, we're just super excited. We heard something amazing was going to happen here. Something about T and A as far as the eye can see?" The inma reporter said.

...

"Alistair. Damn it." Michael grumbled.

...

Sherry managed to round the car to stand next to Michael. Once again, she raised her voice.

"Be patient my lovelies! Soon, you will know all that is happening here! Something miraculous, I promise! But you must not impede us or our hired help!" Sherry cried.

The two of them made their way through the large crowd, until they got to the front doors of the theater. There were two heavily armed soldiers standing guard, who let them by without so much as a peep. The second they were through the door, Stavish was right on top of them.

"Sir! This entire situation is a cluster fuck!" Stavish exclaimed.

"Well hi to you too." Michael chuckled.

"With all due respect sir, this isn't the time for joking around! We've been made!" Stavish exclaimed.

"Army?" Michael asked.

"Yes sir! We spotted a predator flying overhead!" Stavish explained.

The wheels began turning in Michael's head.

...

..

"It's alright Stavish. I have an idea. Just try to keep your men spread out to avoid weapon strikes." Michael said.

"Yes sir!" Stavish exclaimed.

She hustled off, barking orders as she went.

"We should tell the innocent people outside to leave. We wouldn't want them to get hurt." Sherry suggested.

"No. That's a bad idea. Look, you just focus on that portal, and I'll focus on keeping the federales off our backs." Michael said.

"As you wish. Although, I need help with my work, or it shall take weeks." Sherry said.

"I thought as much. I've got that planned too." Michael said.

And with that, Michael marched back outside to the crowd.

...

..

.

As soon as Michael exited the building, everyone focused their attention on him. He hated being the center of attention like that, but he knew it was necessary.

"Excuse me! I need volunteers for a very important project. Does anyone here have very high quality drawing skills? You know, that artsy craftsy crap?" Michael called loudly.

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, and eventually a couple dozen people raised their hands.

"Those of you who raised your hands, could you come forward please?" Michael called loudly.

A few moments later and the people in question managed to squeeze their way through the crowd and get to Michael. Right off the bat, Michael noticed that every last one of the volunteers were inma. No men had raised their hands.

"So you are all pretty good at drawing?" Michael asked.

"I'm a painter, can you use me too?"

"Sure. You'll do just fine. Do you all promise to keep what you see inside absolutely private, at my wife's request?" Michael asked.

They all nodded.

"Okay then, head on in. Go straight to the stage. You'll find my wife waiting for you there." Michael said.

And with that, the volunteers all filed into the theater in single file. The door shut behind them.

...

When Michael turned around again, just as he had expected, that reporter was standing there with an eager look on her face. The camera guy had the camera pointed straight at him.

"So... do you want to have the biggest scoop this century?" Michael asked.

"Yeah! Are you ready to talk Mr. Collins?" The inma reporter asked.

"Not quite yet, but very soon. I will throw you this one bone though. Get every camera you have, and keep the film rolling on this building. Record everything, nonstop. Can you do that for me?" Michael asked.

"Yes sir, I believe I can." The inma reporter said.

"Then I promise that you and you exclusively will get the scoop of a lifetime." Michael promised.

...

Michael turned to the rest of the people milling around.

"Someone dig up some subwoofers! Someone order some pizza! We're having a party! Right now!" Michael shouted.

"YEAAAAAAH!" The crowd cheered.

"Bring on the beer! Someone buy some of them tor-till-ee chips!" Michael shouted.

He pulled out his old trusty nokia 3390, and began dialing the danuki banker.

"Yeah? Hey, I need you to come down to the theater with a ton of money. I need to buy enough beer and food for... say... five hundred people. Can you do that? Good. Thanks. Bye." Michael said into the phone.

...

..

~Meanwhile~

..

...

"Sir, it seems like they're throwing some sort of festival."

The soldier was staring at a computer screen, showing a live video feed of a circling predator drone.

"There he is! There's Michael Collins! Sir, I have a lock!"

"Denied. Do not engage. There's too many people, and we can't take another PR hit like we did in Atlanta."

..

...

~Meanwhile~

...

..

Michael wandered back into the theater, and passed Stavish on his way in.

"I bought us a day. They'd be completely mental to drop a hellfire missile on us now." Michael said, smiling.

"You're using those people as a shield?" Stavish asked, surprised.

"Yeah, basically. I still have faith that whoever's piloting that predator will follow his oath to protect and uphold the constitution." Michael said confidently.

"And if they don't?" Stavish asked.

"Then it really would mean a civil war... and this would be the new Fort Pillow massacre." Michael said.

Stavish pulled out her smartphone and looked it up.

"Good lord." Stavish muttered.

..

...

Michael walked down the long slope down to the stage, where he saw Sherry and her helpers all preparing the stage for the show to come. They had cleaned it spotless, and Sherry was laying out the papers in different arrangements on the floor. High above, there were people stringing work lights so they could all see better.

"Hey Sherry, I took care of the problem." Michael called.

She jerked in surprise, and nearly dropped her papers.

"Sweetie! *Cough... good! Excellent! Thank you!" Sherry squeaked.

The girls all around her began to chuckle.

"Silence! Continue working! Do not get distracted!" Sherry commanded.

"Oh WE'RE the distracted ones now~" Someone quipped.

...

"Whew, she's really being serious right now. Isn't she, sir?" Stavish said quietly.

Michael turned his head and noticed Specialist Stavish standing behind him.

"There's a lot of risk opening this portal. If she screws it up, she might die." Michael said quietly.

"Oh shit. I had no idea." Stavish said quietly.

Michael noticed a tall pillar of a muscular woman heading their way, and he paused his conversation with Stavish. It was that oni from earlier, the crew chief of the working stiffs.

"Hey boss, we has a problem. This place ain't got no water, and we ain't got none with us." The oni crew chief said.

"I'll go get some. Tell your crew to take a break until I get back." Michael suggested.

"We ain't dying yet, but we'd appreciate it if ya did." The oni crew chief said.

...

..

Shortly later, Michael was on his way back out of the theater. By then, the party was getting into full swing. People were putting up speakers, others were dishing out food and adult beverages, and some people were decorating the place. And there was that reporter, recording everything without fail.

"Mr. Collins! A word please?" The inma reporter cried.

Michael sighed and smiled.

"You're dang persistent, aren't you?" Michael asked.

"Yes sir, that's how I make my living. If I don't bring back the story, then there's nothing for me to talk about on the five o'clock news." The inma reporter said.

"Well if you want to talk to me, you'll have to get in the car. I need to go buy some stuff across the street there at that quickie mart." Michael explained.

...

And just like that, Michael found himself sitting behind the wheel of the Duster with the reporter/newscaster sitting in the passenger seat, and the camera man sitting in the back seat. The camera was STILL pointed at him.

"Mr. Collins, I'd like to ask you some questions about Searraigh Fontaine. Think of it as a continuation of our previous interview." The inma reporter said.

"Heh, I don't know what else I can tell you about her." Michael chuckled.

"You explained some of her actions up to this point, but I was hoping you could answer some more personal questions." The inma reporter said.

Michael shifted the car into gear and began moving through the crowd towards the street.

"Gees... a bunch of cars appeared. So uh... such as?" Michael asked.

"What kind of person is she?" The inma reporter asked.

"When I figure it out, I'll let you know. The only thing I know for sure is that she can be a complete sweetheart when she wants to be, and she can be as nasty as a pissed on rattle snake." Michael said.

"Don't you mean pissed off rattle snake?" The inma reporter asked.

"No, I mean pissed on. I'd rather be pissed off than pissed on, so you could imagine what a pissed on rattle snake would be like." Michael said.

He pulled out of the parking lot, and pulled across the street to the opposite side. He quickly parked.

"She does want peace though." Michael said.

"Are you so sure about that after the White House incident?" The inma reporter asked.

"I hope so. But one way or another, someone's going to have to pay for that mistake." Michael said.

...

..

They all got out of the car, and the reporter followed Michael into the store. He went straight to the drink display in the back.

"So what do I think of Sherry. What kind of person is she?" Michael said thoughtfully.

He grabbed a mexi-coke from the fridge for himself, and then went for the bottled water.

"She's young. Younger than me. I think she's been through a lot in her life, but she still acts immature sometimes. She's very impulsive, hot headed, and stubborn." Michael said.

"Wow. That's pretty blunt." The inma reporter said.

"I say things how they are, or I say nothing at all. Most of the time, it's the latter." Michael said.

"Fair enough." The inma reporter said.

"A few words aren't going to hurt her feelings. She's at least mature enough for that. But she's still young." Michael said.

"I was under the impression that she's only two years younger than you." The inma reporter said.

Michael paused, thinking to himself.

"Huh. Funny how that works, isn't it? I think she's more mature than many twenty three year olds, but I still think she's immature. Maybe I'm just old inside." Michael said.

...

Michael grabbed a case of water, and hauled it to the cashier.

"Mr. Collins, do you have any thoughts about a potential conflict between regular humans and the new monster girls?" The inma reporter asked.

"Yeah. I want it to stop. Right now." Michael said flatly.

*THUNK

"Hey dude, I need to pay for six of these." Michael said to the cashier.

...

As Michael counted out his money, he continued talking.

"I saw a news report about a Ryu monster girl in Japan, and how she was confident that she could convince the Japanese government to coexist with inma. She made the claim that despite the changes, they were still all the same people. They were all still Japanese. Why can't we do the same thing here?" Michael suggested.

"It would be nice if we could follow their example." The inma reporter said.

"I think we need to find common ground. It seems pretty lame to say it like that, but it's really that simple. If people could just accept that all the inma around here are still Americans, maybe they'd start calming down." Michael said.

"Do you still think that's possible after the White House assault?" The inma reporter asked.

"Yes I do. And here's why. During this whole crisis, name one human than a monster girl has killed." Michael said confidently.

"I don't know of any. Even the White House assault had no deaths. The only people who have been killed so far are the inma." The inma reporter noted.

"The government can't continue trying to vilify inma who have literally harmed no one. Eventually people are going to say 'no more'. Despite what the Powers That Be think of us, we're not stupid. All they can do is control what we see and hear, and try to fool people into following along." Michael argued.

.

...

..

.

*THUNK

Michael slammed the trunk of the Duster on multiple cases of water. The reporter, and even the camera guy had chipped in and helped him carry them out to the car.

"She likes chocolate." Michael blurted.

"Sir?" The inma reporter questioned.

"My wife. She likes chocolate, just like any ordinary person. And she likes music, and pretty things, and having fun. She likes to dress up in nice clothes, and she loves being a chef." Michael said.

...

"What I'm trying to say is that Sherry is no different than anyone else. The inma all call her mistress, and the federales all call her a dangerous terrorist. But she's neither. She's just a person, who's trying to do right by the world as best she can. Just like me." Michael explained.

"With all due respect sir, I don't think Searraigh is just any ordinary person. There's something about her... something special. You can feel it the moment you first lay eyes on her." The inma reporter said.

"Well, like I said earlier. I'll let you know when I figure her out. But until then, I only deal in facts. Not feelings." Michael said.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

"Hey fellas, I brought that water!" Michael called.

He dropped the cases of water off, and smiled as all those hard working people tore into them. They looked awfully thirsty. He was happy to help.

"Thanks for working so hard. If any of you want to take a break and go grab a slice of pizza upstairs, go right ahead. They've got beer too." Michael suggested.

"Thanks. Maybe the pizza, but I don't let em get buzzed on the job." The oni crew chief said.

"Fair enough. Anything I can do to help?" Michael asked.

The oni crew chief put her hands on her hips and looked him over from head to toe.

"You think you can hoss? Why don'cha help unbolt them seats from the floor so we can haul em out to the dumpster." The oni crew chief suggested.

"Sure thing. I'll go grab some tools from my car." Michael said cheerfully.

...

As Michael turned to leave, he saw Sherry there up on the stage. She was still hard at work, getting the magic circle ready for the big moment. He walked up.

"Yes sweetie? Now's not a..." Sherry started to say.

Michael pulled a chocolate bar out of his cargo pocket and waved it in front of her.

"Now's not a good time for chocolate?" Michael asked, grinning.

*SNAG

She immediately snatched it out of his hands.

"Nevermind~" Sherry sang.

...

..

.

Michael soon returned with tools in hand. He got down on his hands and knees and looked under the rows of seats at the array of bolts holding them to the floor. He had a telescoping breaker bar and some deep well sockets, and he wasn't afraid to use them. But before he got to work, out of sheer curiosity, he very lightly prodded one of the seats with his finger.

*SCHRIP!

*POOF

The seat tore instantly. Powdered seat foam puffed out the hole Michael's finger made.

"So yeah, that's junk. Time for it to go." Michael murmured.

He got to work, putting that breaker bar and socket to good use.

*Ratcheting sounds

*Clanging

*Profuse Swearing

...

~Later~

...

Sherry and her helpers were just as busy as Michael was. The whole stage was covered with sheets of printer paper, carefully laid out by the mistress herself in such a way that one of the artists could come by and carefully transpose the drawing onto the floor with magic chalk. The sound of multiple people drawing with chalk grated on the ears of everyone there.

"Mistress... is this right?" One of the helpers asked.

Sherry looked down at the drawing, and nodded her head.

"You have done well. Continue, and you shall be rewarded." Sherry said softly.

"Thank you mistress!" The helper said, smiling.

Even as Sherry worked, her mind wandered against her will.

"What's sweetie doing? He disappeared for a while, but then came back. I saw him talking to that oni for a little bit, and then he disappeared again. Where is he? What's he thinking about right now? Is he thinking about me?" Sherry thought.

...

Meanwhile, Michael wasn't exactly thinking about Sherry. Not at all.

"I has all da hantavirus now..." Michael thought.

...

Sherry hopped off the stage and went looking for Michael.

"I can sense him here somewhere. His aura is strong. Over here?" Sherry thought.

Sherry walked down the alleyway between the rows of seats, and found Michael laying down between two rows. He was wedged in there as much as his body would allow, and he was grunting as he tugged on a breaker bar.

"Break...loose... you...rusty... piece of shit!" Michael forced through gritted teeth.

*CreeeeakCRACKTHUD!

The bolt broke loose, and Michael wound up barking his knuckles. But he didn't whine about it, he just kept working.

"What in the WORLD are you doing?" Sherry asked, shocked.

Michael looked up at her with his dirty face.

"Hmm? Oh, hey Sherry. You done with your magic circle already?" Michael asked.

"No, but that's beside the point. I asked you a question!" Sherry insisted.

"I'm busting these bolts loose so the girls can haul these big benches out of here. I fit down here better than that oni." Michael explained.

"And how long have you been doing this labor?" Sherry asked.

"I dunno. A while I suppose." Michael said.

He glanced at his watch.

"Three or four hours." Michael added.

Sherry's jaw dropped. Her eyes flicked around the room until she spotted that oni crew chief.

"Hey! You! Come here!" Sherry shouted.

That oni crew chief walked over, and was just as dirty and nasty as Michael.

"Do you know how long my husband has been working?! Are you unaware of my decrees on this matter?!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I know em. An I told im he didn'have ta work no more, two hours ago. He kept on workin!" The oni crew chief said.

"Grrr... very well. You may go." Sherry grumbled.

"Sorry ta piss ya off mistress." The oni chief said as she walked off.

Sherry turned to Michael, who looked very confused.

"What was that all about? She's been nothing but nice to me this whole time." Michael said, frowning.

Sherry crossed her arms under her sizable breasts.

"I can forgive you, because I know you haven't been told. But it is illegal for a man to work for more than two hours a day doing difficult work." Sherry explained quietly.

"No it isn't." Michael rejected immediately.

And with that, he went back to work.

...

Sherry stepped a little closer, and lowered her voice.

"But I decreed it. It is the law. All inma must follow the law, as well as their families. That includes me. And you." Sherry said softly.

Michael's answer wasn't subtle or quiet like Sherry was. He spoke at full volume.

"Well it's a stupid law and I'm not going to obey it!" Michael spat.

Several curious heads turned their way. Sherry knelt down to be closer to Michael's level.

"Sweetie be reasonable. You've worked hard enough. Don't you think it's time for some rest?" Sherry suggested softly.

"When the job's done." Michael said defiantly.

Sherry reached out and caught Michael's hand. He tried to pull away, but her soft yet strong fingers held on with a firm yet gentle grasp. Crimson covered her fingers, and Michael's barked knuckles were healed. At the same time, all the dirt and grime covering his body all balled up and fell off like water off a duck's back.

"I meant that you personally have done enough work over your life. This is not for you any longer. Come." Sherry said softly.

Once she got him on his feet, She hugged him. Her magic fingers were still massaging her power into his body. It made him pliable, and more amicable to her soft words.

"Come with me on the stage for a while sweetie. I miss you, and I want you to be close by." Sherry said softly.

The people in the theater watched as Sherry used magic and honey filled words to coax Michael into following her to the stage.

"Huh. Took the wind right outta his sails." The oni crew chief murmured.

"Yeah. She sure did." Stavish agreed, disturbed.

Stavish didn't like what she had just seen. Sure it seemed like Sherry was just being nice, but the way she did it rubbed her the wrong way. It didn't help that Stavish didn't agree with Sherry's two hour labor rule.

"People should have the freedom to do whatever they want. What the hell is this?" Stavish thought.

...

Michael wound up on the stage, where he shook his head to clear the fluffy cotton out of his brain.

"Look sweetie! What do you think?" Sherry asked excitedly.

Michael raked his eyes across the stage. The whole thing was covered in arcane runes, to the point that someone might have trouble walking across without accidentally stepping on something important.

"It's almost done sweetie. We could begin within the hour!" Sherry exclaimed cheerfully.

"Wow." Michael murmured.

It really was a sight to behold. Both evil looking and beautiful, the runes looked like something straight out of a fantasy book. The sheer intricacy of them, and their alien nature, made Michael realize he was witnessing something that was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Apperantly other people agreed, because some of the artists took pictures.

"Come sweetie. Join me as I inspect the circle." Sherry said.

So they held hands and carefully picked their way across the stage. Sherry in her heeled boots and Michael in his jungle boots.

"It looks just about done right now." Michael noted.

"Yes, but I shan't take the risk and actually provide mana to this circle until I know for certain that every single mark is perfect. No mistakes!" Sherry insisted.

As she spoke, one of the girls knelt down on the ground looked up at her.

"I'm sorry mistress. I'm going as quickly as I can!" The girl said.

"No worries dear. I would rather you be accurate than swift." Sherry reassured.

Sherry knelt down and went to help the girl with some detail of her section of the circle, leaving Michael standing there looking around. A couple of the others shot him smiles, but other than that they were all hard at work. Michael turned his eyes downward towards the runes near his feet.

...

..

Something clicked inside Michael. Those runes seemed... familiar somehow. He wasn't sure why, but something felt wrong. So he did the only reasonable thing that anyone would do. He knelt down and picked up a piece of chalk to fix the error.

"Mister Collins! Don't do that!" Someone exclaimed.

"It's wrong." Michael said distantly.

.

Sherry's eyes followed Michael's line of sight, and she saw where he was looking. Sure enough, it was wrong. She hushed the protesting helper.

"If you believe it to be wrong, then fix it." Sherry said pointedly.

She watched eagerly as Michael brought the chalk down towards the runes, her breath hitched in her throat. He scrubbed away two runes, and transposed them. Then he modified them slightly. Sherry watched with wide eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Sherry gasped.

Michael blinked a few times, and dropped the chalk. Everyone was looking at him, and he suddenly felt very exposed.

"Sorry! I have no idea what I'm doing!" Michael apologized quickly.

And then he hurried off the stage.

...

"What does it mean mistress?" A girl asked.

Sherry grinned evilly.

"It means the spark of true power has finally awoken in poor sweetie. It's about time." Sherry whispered.

The girl looked down at the place Michael had changed, and she face palmed.

"Whoopsie, I made a squiggly with too many squiggles. He fixed it!"

...

~One Hour Later~

...

Sherry stood in the center of the stage, her hands on her hips, and she raked her succubus eyes across the entirety of the magic circle. She had checked, re checked, and checked again. And she was convinced that the circle was correct.

"I can feel it. Even without providing mana, the circle already absorbs energy. The barrier between worlds is being warped like poking a finger into a slime girl." Sherry murmured.

She whirled around towards Michael, who was standing on the edge of the stage.

"It is time." Sherry said.

Michael nodded.

"Alright everyone! Get back! Stand back from the stage! Stavish, go get that reporter!" Michael ordered.

"Yes sir!" Stavish shouted.

People began pulling away from the stage. Michael saw several people start pulling out smart phones to record what was about to happen. The reporter and her camera man hustled into the theater, being lead by Stavish.

"Mr. Collins! Is it time for that story you promised?" The inma reporter called.

"Yeah! Just a sec, and I'll fill you in!" Michael called.

"Sweetie hurry. It is beginning to start all on its own." Sherry warned.

"Right. I'll be right back." Michael said.

He hopped off the stage and quickly marched up to the reporter. The camera man held his camera at his side out of respect.

"Get that camera rolling dude! This is it!" Michael cried.

With the camera aimed at Michael and the reporter with her microphone at the ready, Michael started talking.

"What you're witnessing here today is the biggest thing since the Apollo missions. Right behind me is the beginnings of a gateway... to another world." Michael said.

"Another world!? How is that even possible?" The reporter asked, shocked.

"Well, I can't pretend to know exactly how it all works. All I know is... if everything goes right... we will have mankind stepping onto another world for the first time since Eugene Cernan stepped off the moon in 1972." Michael explained.

Michael turned and gestured to the stage, where Sherry stood waiting. Magic was beginning to swirl around her ankles.

"We're not using a Saturn rocket this time. We're using something that's both very ancient... and very new. You can set up and watch anywhere you like, just make sure you stand back." Michael warned.

"Is this what you promised me if I put all those cameras outside?" The inma reporter asked.

"Yeah! We're about to make history! If this works, people will be able to set foot on another world! And you're the exclusive reporter here! I don't need to sell you on that!" Michael insisted.

"No sir, you sure don't!" The inma reporter said, smiling.

The magic surrounding Sherry grew even more, and a great wind blew through the hall. The sheets of Sherry's drawings, which had been stacked up on the edge of the stage, all blew away. People's clothes tugged on their bodies, flapping wildly in the gale.

"Sweetie! We cannot wait any longer! It's now or never!" Sherry shouted.

"Do it!" Michael shouted.

*Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum

The whole building began to thrum with power. The gale increased to hurricane levels, and Michael struggled to get back to the stage where he belonged. Sherry let out a wild cry, which amazingly enough could be heard clearly over the humming and the blowing wind. The amount of energy flowing through her body was astronomical.

*ZAP!

A bolt of energy shot out and hit a wall, leaving a smoldering crater in its wake. The chaotic energy was all condensing in a spot in the direct center of the magic circle, with random bursts flying out in random directions. Despite the danger, Michael kept coming. He wasn't about to let Sherry stay up there on her own. And as it would turn out, that was a wise decision.

...

Sherry had checked that circle a hundred times, but the sheer complexity of it made it highly likely that a mistake could go unnoticed. And one did. It wasn't a mistake caused by incompetence. It was a mistake caused by a smudge... a simple defect in one of the runes. Perhaps it was caused by someone stepping on it, or perhaps it was caused by someone on their hands and knees accidentally bumping into it, or perhaps a flying sheet of paper scraped over it. But how it happened didn't matter, because the effect was very real and very dangerous. And Sherry didn't realize it until she was already committed. When it did finally dawn on her, her heart quivered in fear.

...

It started subtly enough. The amount of mana that flowed from Sherry was greater than she expected. But she powered through it. After all, she had taken the conservative approach (which was wise to do for all magic), and had made sure she had at least twice as much as she actually needed to do the job. Just in case. But she blew through her estimations by a lot, and she began to get worried. Since she was the spell caster, she was intimately connected to the spell, and thus the portal in the making. So she did a check to see what was happening.

...

What she found... frightened her. The spell wasn't casting correctly. The worst case scenario had come true. Sherry found herself linked directly to the void, the emptiness between dimensions, where energy and magic mean nothing. Typically a mage would have a barrier to protect them from the void, but hers was missing. It was as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, and the cliff was crumbling. With her strength waning, she frantically sought any sources of energy that could save her. The various inma in the room were the first logical choice.

...

Streams of demonic energy flowed out of the witnesses in the room, fueling Sherry directly. This was a big help, and Sherry stood strong against the cliff face. If she could just form the portal in time, then she would be safe.

"I can still do this! Stay strong!" Sherry thought to herself.

...

But alas, the energy contained in the few dozen inma in the room was but a drop in the bucket for that energy hungry portal. Sherry soon found herself in an even more precarious situation than before. So she began drawing power from inma at large in the world. Every inma everywhere on the face of the planet all began to function as living energizer bunnies for Sherry's portal. The US, Europe, Asia, Africa... it didn't matter how far away. All inma everywhere felt the drain, and fell to a knee.

...

The collective pool of mana from all the inma in the world went dry, and Sherry fueled the portal with her own personal reserves of mana. She could feel her body beginning to shut down. Her breathing became labored, her heart slowed down, and her mind became muddy. In the final moments, Sherry's thoughts weren't about completing the portal anymore. She wanted to save herself. But there was no escape, even though she was on the cusp of establishing the portal. So her eyes turned to literally the last standing person in the room besides herself.

...

"SWEETIE! HELP ME! PLEASE!" Sherry pleaded, desperate.

Michael scrambled to get on the stage. It took everything he had to punch through the wall of raw power surrounding Sherry. It burned his skin and stung his eyes.

"TAKE MY HAND!" Sherry shouted.

Her voice reverberated hauntingly in the howling gale. He stretched his arm towards her, straining to reach her outstretched hand. She wavered, struggling to stay upright. He could see the fear in her eyes. The moment their hands clasped, she shouted one last time.

"...I'M SORRY!" Sherry shouted.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael never knew what hit him. One moment, he felt his hand touch Sherry's hand. And the next moment... he found himself flat on his back looking upwards towards the ceiling of the theater. Everything seemed blurry and indistinct, and the lights above blinded him. Stavish appeared, moving slow-motion into his field of view. Her voice, along with all other voices in the room, were very muffled.

"Sir! Sir are you... oh my god!" Stavish cried.

She looked towards where the seats used to be, and she barked at the top of her lungs.

"MEDIC!" Stavish shouted.

Another soldier appeared, carrying a medical bag. He looked genuinely terrified.

"What happened to him specialist? He looks so... old!" The medic asked.

"I don't know! Just keep him alive!" Stavish ordered.

Michael weakly lifted his arm, his hand trembling violently. He could just barely make out his own hand in front of his face, and he didn't like what he saw. His fingers were wrinkled... like an old man. He let out a wheezing gasp.

"We need to stabilize him and get him out of here! Now! STRETCHER!" The medic shouted.

Suddenly Sherry appeared, shoving the medic and Stavish both out of the way. When she laid eyes on Michael, the look of surprise and shock froze momentarily on her face. Even she hadn't expected to see Michael in that state.

"Look what you've done to him! How could you do this?!" Stavish demanded angrily.

"Do not question it, just stand aside!" Sherry retorted.

Sherry slid her arms under Michael and lifted him up. He was very light weight, requiring no effort to lift up at all. The last thing Michael heard before he blacked out was Sherry crying out for people to 'make way'.

...

~Later~

...

Sherry carried Michael's stricken body back to their home, where she took him straight to their bedroom. Laying him down on the bed, she saw his eyes open once again.

*Gulp

Sherry gulped nervously, but kept her mouth shut. Normally she would have greeted him as he woke up, but her shame was too great.

"No more... please... don't take any more years..." Michael rasped.

His eyes were filled with tears as Sherry raised her hand over his face. He tried moving his head away from her magic filled fingers, but she grabbed his throat and pinned him.

*Niiirow!

Michael slumped into the bed, his eyes glazing over. Sherry wavered and flopped onto the bed next to him. That one last little spell was too much for her.

"So tired... I can't..." Sherry murmured.

...

Sherry's eyelids fluttered. It was taking everything she had to keep them open. She was finding herself in a situation that no monster had encountered for thousands of years. In the old days before Lilith took power, monsters would enter dungeons and go to sleep for decades at a time when their demonic energy got low. Their ability to regenerate mana was low, but it would eventually recover over a long stretches of years. Then they would emerge, rampage and wreck havoc on any humans they found, and then return to the dungeon again to sleep for a while longer. This problem had gone away when Lilith took power, because of the physics breaking relationship of spirit energy from humans and demonic energy from inma. All they had to do when their energy was low was spend some quality time with their husband.

...

But then again, no inma had done in thousands of years what Sherry had done to Michael. She had done what the succubii of old had done, before Lilith took power. She had consumed his spirit energy without returning any demonic energy in exchange. An unheard of act of pure selfishness that no inma in her right mind would ever do. To counteract that act of selfishness would require an equally large act of selflessness.

...

She gently pulled his withered body close to her, and hugged him as carefully as she could.

"I'm so sorry sweetie. I never meant for this to happen to you. Even as you are, I still love you. You're not ugly to me, you're just sick. Your spirit glows dimly... but I'll give you my all to make it right again." Sherry whispered softly.

So she pressed her hand against his chest, and slowly let her tiny amount of remaining demonic energy flow into his body. Her eyes fluttered shut.

...

..

.

That night, Michael had a strange dream. He was surrounded by pink light, and he was standing before a person he had never seen before. A beautiful exotic woman with flowing golden hair, and a chiseled face more beautiful than he had ever seen in his life. More beautiful than even Sherry. Her arms were outstretched, reaching to him as if from a great distance.

"Come to me precious one. Come to me. Your time has come." The woman called gently.

Michael was afraid. He wondered... if his time really had come.

The Next Morning

*Groan

Michael's crusty eyes slowly cracked open.

"Ugh... fracking A..." Michael grumbled.

...

!

Michael remembered what happened, and immediately looked at his right hand. It wasn't all wrinkled and old looking anymore. There was nothing other than his ordinary rough-but-young looking flesh.

...

He looked down, and saw a lump in his shirt. Sherry's hand was firmly glued to his chest. Looking to his left, he saw Sherry asleep next to him. Pulling her hand off and plopping it on the bed, Michael staggered to his feet and stumbled into the hallway.

"I need food. Now." Michael thought.

He staggered straight towards the kitchen. Once there, he ripped open the fridge door and started eating like a starving beast.

...

..

.

After consuming every crumb of food in the fridge, Michael then proceeded to order takeout. The pizza guy, the sandwich shop guy, and the door dash guy with thai food all showed up at the exact same time. Looking at each other in confusion, they rang the doorbell. Michael appeared, cash in hand. The look on his face would have frightened a battle hardened infantryman, much less those delivery guys.

"Take money. Give food!" Michael exclaimed.

"Please don't eat me!" The pizza guy shuddered in fear.

...

Five hundred dollars later, and Michael was the proud owner of enough food to feed a frat party. And he had no intentions to share.

...

~Two Hours Later~

...

Michael finally came to his senses, surrounded by empty pizza boxes, wrappers, and food containers.

"What the... what the actual HELL just happened?" Michael exclaimed.

He went to the bathroom, where he clicked on the lights.

*CLICK

He was momentarily blinded by the bright 5000k white bulbs. Blinking, he cleared his eyes and looked in the mirror.

*Sigh

Michael slumped against the doorframe in relief. He looked more or less normal, if a bit tired and baggy around the eyes. But even if he looked normal, there was still the question of what the heck was going on. So he went to the bedroom, where Sherry was still sleeping.

"Hey! Wake up! What'd you do to me? Why'd you make me eat so much?" Michael demanded gruffly.

*Shake shake

He shook her, and she didn't move.

"...uh oh." Michael muttered.

He picked up her dainty hand, and rolled it over so he could press two fingers against her wrist. She had a heartbeat, but it was very slow.

...

..

.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Someone was pounding on the front door. A shiver of fear ran down Michael's spine.

"If that's the federales, I'm so boned!" Michael thought.

He straightened his clothes, and went to the front door without opening it.

"What do I do? If I open it... they might rush in. Will Sherry's wards stop them? Are her wards even working right now? Maybe I'd better get a rifle." Michael thought.

He swayed, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't think I would last long in a fight. I'm so tired. Something's still wrong with me." Michael thought.

...

"Should we try to kick the door down Specialist?" A voice said, muffled.

Michael perked his ears up, listening to the visitors on the other side of the door.

"No. The Army tried that already, and it didn't budge. It'd be a waste of time." Stavish said, muffled.

*ClickCreeeeeak

Stavish and another soldier jerked in surprise when Michael opened the door, his tired face appearing in the crack.

"Thought you were the fed." Michael muttered.

...

..

.

Michael wound up sitting in his chair, with Stavish and a half dozen other people clustered around him. Some of them were soldiers, and some were civilians that he hadn't ever met before.

"We thought you died sir. You looked like the grapes of wrath when the mistress took you home last night. Are you okay?" Stavish said.

"It... was like that ending scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I'll never be the same again." Michael murmured.

Someone made dry heaving sounds.

...

One of the other people, a soldier, tapped an empty pizza box with the toe of her boot.

"Looks like you threw a party." The soldier said.

"I don't know why I did that. I woke up, and I was the hungriest I had ever been in my life. Sherry did something to me." Michael explained, embarrassed.

"Um... sir... you didn't eat all this yourself, did you?" Stavish asked.

Michael's face turned beet red from embarrassment.

"Holy shit dude!"

"How much did this all cost?"

"This might be a world record! Someone call Guinness!"

...

A few minutes later, an inma was walking out of Michael's apartment with a whole black trash bag full of empty containers. At the same time, a uniformed man was walking inside. Stavish greeted the man at the door.

"Here he is, get to it." Stavish said, gesturing towards Michael.

Michael eyed that man nervously as he came over and sat down in a chair next to him.

"Don't worry sir, he's one of mine. He's a medic." Stavish explained.

"Oh, okay. I guess... do your thing doc." Michael said reluctantly.

"I'm just going to do a little checkup. Nothing too major." The medic reassured.

He pulled on some surgical gloves, and felt Michaels' lymph nodes.

"Hey, you're looking a lot better this time. Last time I saw you... well... you'd had a bad day." The medic said.

...

"Been a medic a long time?" Michael asked quietly.

"Yeah." The medic said simply.

"He's in SOAR." Stavish said.

"He's not going to know what that is specialist." The medic said.

...

"Special Operations Aviation Regiment, stationed in Fort Campbell Kentucky." Michael said.

The medic's eyebrow shot up.

"So you do know!" The medic exclaimed.

"Yeah. I whupped one of your shooters at Camp Perry." Michael quipped.

"I thought you lost that one sir." Stavish said.

"I did. Some marine whupped me." Michael said.

There were immediate angry protests from every member of the Army in the room, including the medic.

"Sorry guys! I did my best!" Michael exclaimed apologetically.

Stavish had a funny gleam in her eyes as she leaned down and glared at Michael.

"You need to do better next time sir! You can't let those fucking jarheads show us up!" Stavish exclaimed.

"Let's save that for another time specialist, and make sure Mr. Collins isn't about to fall over right now." The medic said.

"Right. Sorry." Stavish said, dejected.

"I'm not even enlisted in the Army. So don't get me involved in Army verses Marines rivalry." Michael said.

"...I should call a recruiter." Stavish thought.

...

"No swelling. Open up, and let's check your throat." The medic said.

Michael opened his mouth, and the medic looked inside with a pen light.

"So far so good. Let's check your pulse and lungs next." The medic said.

...

..

.

~A While Later~

.

..

...

"Well, I can't find anything obviously wrong with you. You look tired and a little anemic, but I believe you're alright. I can't even find any signs that you just... well... gorged yourself." The medic said reluctantly.

"That's probably Sherry's doing." Michael grumbled.

"This whole fucking thing is her doing." Stavish interjected angrily.

"Before I take off, do you have any complaints?" The medic asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. My taxes are too high." Michael quipped.

"Heh, tell me about it brother. You'll live though." The medic said, chuckling.

And with that, the medic gave Michael a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and walked out the door. Stavish crossed her arms and looked expectantly towards Michael.

"Where is she?" Stavish asked.

Michael pointed towards the bedroom.

"I'm going to give that dumb B a piece of my mind!" Stavish exclaimed.

Michael snagged her web gear before she could run off.

"Wait a minute. Don't. You don't have the full picture yet." Michael said quietly.

"And why shouldn't I, after what she did to you? It was the most horrific thing I've ever seen in my life, and I've seen some pretty fucked up stuff... SIR!" Stavish exclaimed.

Michael's eyes turned downwards.

"I'm not arguing, and I'm not going to pretend to know what she was thinking or why she did it, but I don't think she wanted to hurt me. She looked just as shocked as the rest of you did." Michael said quietly.

.

..

...

A minute later, Michael sank down onto the edge of the bed, sighing tiredly.

"I might be okay, but I still feel pretty shitty." Michael said.

"Just try to take it easy sir." Stavish said.

She took up a position next to the bed, and shook Sherry gently.

"Mistress? Wake up." Stavish said.

...

Sherry didn't even so much as flinch.

"I think she's in a deep monster girl coma." Michael said.

"What's that mean?" Stavish asked.

"Well... have you ever heard the fantasy stories about the dragon that sleeps under a mountain for a hundred years, only to wake up and burn down all the human villages, only to go back and sleep again under the mountain?" Michael asked.

Stavish nodded.

"It's kind of like that, except she's a succubus and not a dragon." Michael said.

"She's going to sleep for a hundred years?!" Stavish exclaimed.

"I have no idea, but I think she'll sleep for a long time unless we figure out how to wake her up. Even with her link to all the mamono in the world, she's still going to need a trigger to wake up." Michael reasoned.

"Why can't you do that sleeping chick thing? You know, with prince what's-his-face?" Stavish asked.

Michael gave her a funny look.

"Prince what's-his-face?" Michael asked incredulously.

"Yeah! Hey, don't judge me! I wasn't into that stuff as a kid! What's-his-face... Prince Charming! Waking up what's-her-face the sleeping chick!" Stavish countered defensively.

"That's Cinderella you doofus. You're mixing two fairy tales." Michael said dryly.

Michael turned his eyes towards Sherry.

"But I get what you're saying. Who knows, it might work. What could it hurt to try?" Michael said quietly.

He leaned over and gently but passionately kissed Sherry.

*Mmmp

*Chu

...

*GRAB!

He felt a pair of arms wrap around his head. His eyes shot open, and were greeted by Sherry's crimson eyes.

"Thanks for the meal sweetie~" Sherry giggled.

"MMPH!" Michael cried, muffled.

Stavish grinned and shook her head, walking for the door.

"That's my cue. Give em hell sir!" Stavish said enthusiastically.

*CLICK

...

..

.

~Thirty Minutes Later~

.

..

...

Sherry found her way out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but a smile. Stavish and a few other inma were in the living room waiting for them. They didn't even bat at eye at Sherry's nudity.

"Where's Michael?" Stavish asked.

"He's resting in our chambers. Far too much has happened lately for me to permit him to do anything but recover." Sherry said.

Stavish didn't quite like the sound of that, so she slid off the couch and went to the bedroom door. Half of her expected to find Michael passed out in the nude, and the other suspicious half expected to find Michael turned into a shriveled husk. As it turned out, neither side was correct.

"What in the actual..." Stavish muttered.

Sherry peeked past her shoulder and looked towards the corner of the room, where there was a blob of demonic energy suspended from the ceiling. Michael was inside, making all sorts of mewling sounds. The only part of him that was visible was his nose and mouth.

"Wonderful isn't it? It's a special cocoon spell that my mistress taught me. It helps people recover their bodies when exhausted." Sherry explained cheerfully.

"Ahhhh~" Michael cried out pleasurably.

"Um..." Stavish said, uncertain.

"It's fine dear. He'll be perfectly fine. I'm going to repay him for my mistake last night, multiple times over. He'll be younger and healthier than ever when I get done with him~" Sherry cheered.

"It sounds like that thing does a hell of a lot more than recover exhausted people!" Stavish thought.

*Glorp

*Plop... plop... plop

The blob of demonic energy made gooey sounds, like the drip drip of sludge. The somewhat disgusting sound could be heard all the way in the living room.

"Now that sweetie is all taken care of, I need your assistance to prepare for our journey through the portal." Sherry said.

"Wait wait wait a minute! This is insane! Why the hell did he forgive you so quickly, what the hell are you doing to him, and why the hell are you being so casual about everything?!" Stavish exclaimed.

Sherry's eyes turned dark.

"You cannot comprehend my shame in what I did to sweetie last night. The fact that he even entertained the idea of forgiveness means I owe him that much more repayment." Sherry said darkly.

She took a step towards Stavish, and Stavish took a nervous step backwards.

"Don't tell the maoyu about this, or I will surely be thrown in the dungeon. I don't wish to be taken away from sweetie. I never meant to hurt him. I'm not a dangerous succubus." Sherry said darkly.

"I wouldn't ever do that! I don't even know the chick!" Stavish blurted nervously.

"Good. And by the time I get done with him, no one will ever know this happened. I'll pour more, and more, and more mana into him until his body is bursting at the seams. I'll shape his flesh until he is the most handsome and virile man around. No one will ever know." Sherry whispered darkly.

...

"Even if it takes everything I have." Sherry added.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

"Sweetie~" Sherry sang.

She sank her fingers into the goo, touching Michael gently while simultaneously absorbing the demonic energy from the blob. Michael's body was slowly released.

"Sweetie~ You're looking much better~" Sherry cooed.

"Wow, he really does look younger. But at the same time, he totally looks the same. How does that even work?" Stavish asked.

Sherry gently laid Michael down on the bed, kissing him on the cheek.

"Demonic energy is wonderful. Very few people actually truly understand it. Perhaps no one other than the maoyu. It beautifies, it strengthens, and it heals with time." Sherry said.

*Moan...~

Michael let out a quiet moan, and slowly blinked his eyes.

"That's it sweetie, come back to me now~" Sherry encouraged softly.

She gently straightened his clothes as he slowly returned to his senses.

"Sweetie~ Sweetie~" Sherry sang.

"Ugh..." Michael groaned.

"It's time to get up sweetie~ We need to go to the portal~" Sherry sang.

"Ohhhh... I still need to pack..." Michael groaned.

"You're all set sir. We hauled your stuff down to the Duster. Rifle, ammo, gear, the whole nine yards." Stavish explained.

"Thanks." Michael said quietly.

"Are you feeling better sir?" Stavish asked.

"Yeah... I actually am." Michael said, smiling faintly.

"Good to hear sir... I..." Stavish started to say.

*SCCCRRRT!

Stavish's radio hissed, interrupting her.

"Headless horseman, this is McDickwiggle. We've got a situation over here." The radio hissed.

"McDickwiggle?" Michael asked dryly.

"Yeah. The bitch won't stop eating McDonalds! That shit's just foul!" Stavish explained.

She hit the PTT on her radio.

"Headless Horseman here. What's the sit rep?" Stavish said over the radio.

"We got a big buttload of Army out here." The radio hissed.

"Ah shit!" Michael and Stavish both exclaimed.

...

"How copy H and H?" The radio hissed.

"I copy. What are their demands?" Stavish said over the radio.

"Unconditional surrender." The radio hissed.

Michael leaned over and grabbed Stavish's radio hand, and pushed the PTT.

"McDickwiggle, this is White Rook. I have a message for the commander of the enemy forces. Do you have a notepad?" Michael asked over the radio.

"Roger White Rook. Ready." The radio hissed.

"Message begins... Nuts!... Message ends." Michael said over the radio.

The sound of laughing came over the radio.

"Confirmed, message reads 'Nuts'. Will relay. Is that all?" The radio asked.

"Yeah. White Rook clear." Michael said over the radio.

Stavish took her radio back, and pushed the PTT.

"This is H and H. Lock the area down, keep your heads down, and don't let them in. And don't shoot any of them unless you have no other choice. Confirm?" Stavish said into the radio.

"Confirmed." The radio hissed.

"We'll be there in a little bit to assess the situation." Stavish said into the radio.

"Be advised, the building is surrounded. There is no easy avenue of approach." The radio hissed.

"Understood. We'll deal with it. Headless Horseman clear." Stavish said.

...

..

.

"Where's General Patton when you need him?" Michael quipped.

...

~Later~

...

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Michael, Sherry, Stavish, and her men all appeared back in the theater together in a flash of crimson. As soon as they appeared, Sherry swayed. Stavish had to catch her before she fell over.

"Mistress! Are you alright?" Stavish asked.

"Oh my... I need a moment." Sherry murmured.

Michael and Stavish helped Sherry sit down on one of the remaining bench seats. The work crews had picked out some of the better conditioned seats and lined the left and right walls with them.

"Sherry? What's going on?" Michael asked, worried.

"I spent all my mana opening that portal, and then I spent all the mana I recovered last night on returning you to the way you were. Teleporting here was just too much." Sherry explained, rubbing her forehead.

"You're just as bad off as he is!" Stavish exclaimed, pointing at Michael.

"I'll be fine dear, no worries. Trust me, sweetie is the one who needs rest. I'll recover in time." Sherry said softly.

He saw her eyes flick towards the theater stage.

"Oh~ It's beautiful~" Sherry remarked, smiling.

Michael followed her line of sight.

"Whoa." Michael muttered.

...

There it was. The portal. It was incredible in its beauty. It was an oval shape, with the top nearly touching the ceiling. The bottom part of the portal was buried into the stage, and a chunk of the stage was missing.

"GlaDOS would be proud." Michael murmured.

"Do you see the blue in its aura sweetie? That's from you. It will always be like that for the rest of time, a reminder of what it took to open." Sherry said.

The majority of the energy making up the portal was either crimson or black, but there was a swirl of blue inside it. It was spirit energy. Michael's spirit energy. A piece of him would forever be a part of that portal, until the end of time when all life was gone and the universe implodes.

...

"If you're done gawking sir, we still have a problem." Stavish reminded.

"Right. Let's go take a look at the bad guys. Sherry, stay here a minute and catch up when you're feeling better." Michael said.

"Yes sweetie, as you wish." Sherry said tiredly.

And with that, Michael and Stavish took off to go observe the situation.

...

..

.

They got to a window, which they crouched under so they wouldn't be seen. Stavish handed Michael a field periscope, and he peeked over the window sill.

"That's... a lot of vehicles." Michael remarked.

The whole building was surrounded. Literally. There was no gap in the Army's ring of armored vehicles or machine guns. Michael slowly moved his periscope eye across the line of vehicles, and then the buildings surrounding them.

"They've got snipers too. I see one moving in on top the quicky mart across the street." Michael observed.

"Better call it in sir. Make sure you click the PTT twice before you start talking." Stavish said.

Michael did just that, his thumb quickly pressing the button twice before he started talking.

"This is White Rook. Be advised, there's a marksman on the quicky mart on the east side. That is all. White Rook clear." Michael said into his radio.

...

"The shooting hasn't started yet, but it's going to eventually." Stavish noted.

*clickclick

Michael heard Sherry's distinctive heeled boots clicking behind him, and he heard Stavish admonish her.

"Get the fuck down! You want your head blown off?" Stavish shot angrily.

Sherry crouched down behind Michael, taking cover with the rest of them.

"Sweetie, I'm much better now." Sherry said softly.

"Good. Switch with me, and take a look outside." Michael said.

They switched places, and he showed her how to use the hand held periscope. She peeked inside the eye piece.

"What a useful little tool. Now let's see..." Sherry remarked.

"There's a lot of them out there, huh?" Michael suggested.

"Well... it's no horde. But I imagine those soldiers out there are far more powerful than the typical order peon." Sherry remarked.

"That's an understatement." Michael and Stavish both muttered.

...

"We're ready to go on your order sir. Just say the word." Stavish said.

"Go? As in start shooting? I don't think so! I'm not letting this turn into a civil war!" Michael flatly refused.

"We don't have any choice sir. They're going to come in here and kill us eventually, and I want to see my boyfriend again." Stavish insisted.

Sherry turned and looked intently into Michael's eyes.

"I am a knight, and you are a scholar. Think of something sweetie!" Sherry urged.

The wheels began to turn in Michael's head.

...

..

.

"They shot first and asked questions later when they came after my apartment." Michael observed.

Stavish blinked a few times.

"That's right!" Stavish said.

"There's civilians in the building. Do THEY know that?" Michael questioned.

"Probably. They had that predator flying around earlier. So they probably know who came in and who left." Stavish said.

.

..

...

"These radios... we can't talk to them with our radios can we? These use the SINCGARS network, right" Michael asked.

"Well... that's not entirely true. We can hail them on a cue frequency if we wanted." Stavish said.

...

Michael turned to Sherry.

"I know you're tired, and I don't want to ask this, but... can you teleport one more person just one more time?" Michael asked.

"I can." Sherry said confidently.

Michael stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders, and sighed.

"Okay. Let's do this." Michael said.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

*KRRCHT

"Attention U.S. Army detachment at 5th and B." The radio crackled.

The soldiers circling the theater all glanced at their radios as Michael's voice came out. They looked up, and saw a single unarmed man step out the front doors of the theater. He was holding a radio in his hand.

"I want to negotiate to your commanding officer." The radio crackled.

*Silence

Michael stood there, waiting, as the soldiers held their rifles pointed at him. It was a standoff. Every window and every doorway of the theater was bristling with the muzzles of M4 rifles and other assorted light and heavy infantry weapons. And every vehicle and every soldier in the blockade was heavily armed with similar weapons. The slightest misstep would cause an all out war.

...

Michael saw a break in the wall of enemy soldiers, and a man stride through. An officer of some kind, but Michael couldn't quite make out his rank from a distance.

...

They both began walking towards each other slowly, matching each other's pace until they met in the middle. Michael recognized that commanding officer immediately.

"Well well well, look who we have here. Michael Collins."

"That's right. You aughta know. You're the crazy bastard who tried to shoot me at that blockade." Michael countered.

"That's crazy bastard SIR to you. I'm a captain, and you're nothing." The captain said.

"If you want my respect, earn it." Michael countered.

"I do not require or desire your respect. What I require is your immediate surrender, along with all your terrorists inside that building. And I demand the release of the hostages." The captain said.

"We have no hostages, nor are we terrorists. We're just Americans trying to live our lives in peace." Michael said.

"You will comply immediately, or we will use force." The captain warned, ignoring Michael's words.

Michael felt a trill of adrenaline fueled fear run through his belly. But even then, he held his ground.

"Those people sent me out here because they're afraid. They don't know why you're here. Why are you threatening to kill innocent Americans who have done nothing to hurt you?" Michael asked.

The captain glared at Michael with raw hatred.

"Doesn't your oath mean anything to you captain? What if it was your family in there? Would you give the order then?" Michael asked.

The captain got right up in Michael's face, but he didn't flinch away.

"I asked you a question captain. What if it were your family in there? Would you still give the order?" Michael asked again.

"It was my family! Your disease already took them from me! I had a wife, and two daughters!" The captain spat.

"Had? Did your wife stop loving you?" Michael asked pointedly.

...

"Did she leave you for another man, or is she still at home waiting for you? Well? Answer me!" Michael insisted.

...

"Your disease rotted their minds and turned them into a perverse animals. I locked them all up, where they can't hurt anyone ever again." The captain said darkly.

Michael's face twisted in horror.

"How could you do that to your own family!?" Michael asked, shocked.

"I have no obligation to explain myself to criminals." The captain hissed.

"So you came all the way here to get revenge because... what? Your wife still loves you? Your children are still your children? That doesn't make any sense." Michael asked.

"This conversation is over." The captain spat.

Marching back to his line of men, the captain barked out an order.

"Attack! " The captain ordered.

...

..

.

No one moved. Not a soul.

.

..

...

Michael looked down at the radio he had been holding during their entire conversation, his thumb cramping up from holding the PTT for as long as he had. Then he looked back towards the retreating captain. Half shouting at the captain and half shouting into the radio, Michael gave his final answer to the U.S. Army's demands.

"Give me liberty or give me death!" Michael shouted.

The captain answered by twirling around and raising his M4.

*BRAAAAAT!

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Michael teleported out of the line of fire, reappearing behind the captain. Several of the soldiers jumped in surprise.

"Attack us all you want captain! My wife will stop you, again and again and again! The good guys always win in the end!" Michael cried.

The captain once again raised his rifle, and the pit of Michael's stomach dropped out. He didn't know if Sherry had another teleportation in her or not. He hoped she did.

...

But as it would turn out, he wouldn't need it.

*WHACK!

One of the soldiers in the line knocked the captain's M4 out of the way, and socked him right in the nose. The whole company of soldiers gasped.

...

He leveled his rifle right on the captain, who froze stiff.

"You are under arrest for attempted murder. Please hand over your weapon sir." The soldier said.

"That's insubordination lieutenant! I ordered you to attack!" The captain bellowed.

"No sir! I am under no obligation to follow an illegal order! I'm not becoming the next Lieutenant Calley!" The lieutenant said.

"You can't use the 'just following orders' excuse captain. The lieutenant here knows that." Michael said.

As the soldiers took away the captain's weapons and cuffed him, he was spitting insults at Michael.

"Fuck you! Fucking hillbilly white trash!" The captain raged.

"That's right asshole. I'm white trash. When I grew up, I flushed my toilet with a bucket because the plumbing didn't work. I stepped over a 3 foot wide hole in the floor to get into the shower, and I didn't even have hot water." Michael started.

"The fuck?" Someone said.

"My bedroom window was a sheet of plywood because the glass was gone. I cooked all my food in a toaster oven because the gas lines weren't safe to use anymore. I had no dish washer, clothes washer, drier, air conditioning, or any other modern comforts. I shivered in the winter, and fried my ass off in the summer!" Michael continued.

He waved his finger right at the captain's nose.

"Don't you tell me I'm a criminal, or a terrorist, or a traitor! I love my country! I'm proud of what I am, because I struggled, and I earned minimum wage, and I made a life for myself! People like you forgot all about people like me! So frack you! I'm happy, and I'll protect what's mine! And I'm not apologizing for a damn thing!" Michael barked.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

*THUNK

The captain found himself cuffed and in the back of a hmmwv. Michael was surrounded by the soldiers, sitting on a hmmwv hood while talking to the men. They all listened to everything he said, giving him a chance to argue his case.

"Do you guys know why you're here?" Michael asked.

"To keep the peace?" Someone answered.

"Wrong. You're being used by the bozos in Washington to start a civil war. They don't care about you, or me, or anyone else in this country. They only care about themselves, and how much more power they can obtain." Michael argued.

The crowd murmured to themselves.

"They want panic. They want us to kill each other. That's how they take control. And what do we do? We take sides. We divide ourselves, and play right into their hands. We're hanging ourselves damn it!" Michael argued.

...

"You all volunteered to join the military to protect our freedom, but did you know that none of us are free? We're all still slaves, even though we're not shackled at the ankle. All they have to do is lie on TV, feed the flames, and we'll do whatever they want like little puppets on strings. They control what you see and hear. Well WAKE UP!" Michael exclaimed.

"What are you suggesting Mr. Collins?" A soldier asked.

"You have all the answers in your pocket. I assume you guys own smart phones. Pull them out." Michael said.

The soldiers all pulled out their phones. Those that didn't have one looked to their buddies for a glimpse.

"The Monster Girl Encyclopedia fandom wiki. Look it up. Educate yourselves. Don't wait for someone to tell you what to think, do your own research and form your own conclusions!" Michael said.

...

Several minutes passed.

...

"So they're really not dangerous after all? They're just... super horny?"

"Yeah basically. They're not trying to kill anyone, they just want some. And most of the ones who are brand new don't know how to control their strength too well." Michael explained.

"Legit man! It's all right here in the wiki!"

"Holy shit! That looks just like one we saw the other day, with the wings and shit!"

"Yeah and that one too! Oh so that's why she had a flaming tail! They're all like that!"

"And the one we saw with a snake tail? That was a lamia according to this."

...

..

.

So after looking at the wiki for a while, inevitably they all began asking the expected questions that any red blooded man would start asking, while sneaking glances over towards the theater.

"So uh... are there any hot chicks in there?"

"Yeah, quite a few." Michael said.

"And they're... like... totally down to bang?"

"Yep. Pretty much. You just have to ask nicely." Michael said.

One of the soldiers let out an excited whoop, tossed his rifle, and immediately rushed towards the theater. The other soldiers all groaned and face palmed.

"Oh boy, there goes Jimmy-Ray."

"Figures he'd be the first one to go. The man is just like Quagmire."

Jimmy-Ray rushed the theater, and immediately ditched any pretense of subtlety.

"Hey ladies, I'm Jimmy-Ray! I've got the biggest cock in my whole battalion! Anyone want to see?"

A window creaked open, and an arm waved him in. He let out a cheer and immediately hopped through the window.

"Oh momma! I'm in heaven!"

Was the last words anyone could hear before his voice was lost in the depths of the theater.

...

..

.

"If anyone else is interested..." Michael said, pointing.

All the soldiers turned around towards the street behind them. There, standing silently and staring at them with lust filled eyes... was a horde of monster girls.

"Alright ladies, it's time for fresh meat!" A monster girl cheered.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Sherry exited the building and picked her way through the moaning mass of people having wild intercourse on the ground. She got to Michael, who was the only one still standing upright, uncertain what to do with himself.

"Congratulations sweetie! You've witnessed your first monster girl orgy!" Sherry said cheerfully.

"Is this what happens every time monster girls win a fight?" Michael asked.

"YEP!" Sherry said cheerfully.

She glomped onto his right arm, and kissed his cheek.

"Doesn't it smell wonderful, the scent of so many people falling in love? The lust, the heat, the lewd squelching noises... I live for this!" Sherry cheered.

They picked their way carefully through the minefield of undulating bodies, until they got back to the doors of the theater. They walked inside, arm in arm.

"I suppose you've seen that sort of thing a bunch of times." Michael reasoned.

"Indeed! I've contributed to it as well! Many a man have fallen by my blade, to become husband to some needy inma!" Sherry said proudly.

"How come you never took any of them for yourself?" Michael asked.

"Because it wasn't meant to be. I could feel the winds of fate telling me that I was meant for someone else, and I knew that someone was you the moment I beheld your fairth for the first time." Sherry said.

"Well I don't believe all that fate nonsense. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves." Michael said.

*THUD!

Sherry pushed him against a wall and forcefully kissed him.

*MMMMUUUUUUAAAAAHHHH!

"Don't say silly things like that again! Of course it was fate that brought me to you! It was fate that introduced you to monster girls, and it was fate that you had that magic coin! And if you still doubt it, then look at that portal!" Sherry breathed hotly.

She gestured towards the portal, which was still faithfully standing on the stage.

...

"That is the symbol of fate itself, guiding you to the future. It's the portal which will change your life forever." Sherry said.

"What does that mean?" Michael asked.

"It means... I owe you a great deal now. You will be rewarded in ways your human mind cannot comprehend." Sherry said.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"You will experience pleasures that cannot be found on this world." Sherry whispered.

"Like what?" Michael asked quietly.

"You'll soon see. I have much to show you. But know this... your journey is only beginning. Fate has much in store for you. I can sense it." Sherry whispered.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Police sirens appeared in the distance, interrupting Michael and Sherry's tender moment. Cruising up to the theater at mach 3, the police barged onto the scene.

"Oh hell. Can this day just get any better?" Michael grumbled.

*BOOM!

A certain familiar manitcore policewoman kicked the doors open.

"Police! This is a raid! Put your hands and cocks up!" Serena barked.

"Ugh, I can't deal with this shit. I'm out." Michael said.

Michael tried to leave, but Serena appeared next to him before he got the chance to get away.

"Going somewhere?" Serena asked, chuckling.

"Actually yeah. I was going to go call the cops. There's a manticore trespassing on my property." Michael shot.

"Oh so I guess you don't want this Beretta back. My bad. Catch you later!" Serena said cheerfully.

And with that, Serena turned and walked out.

...

"Sherry." Michael growled.

"Yes sweetie. Right away." Sherry said instantly.

...

A few moments later, Sherry dragged that manticore back into the theater by her ear.

"Ow ow ow ow ow! Stop it! You're gonna rip my ear ring out!" Serena protested.

"Give him back his Beretta! I decree it!" Sherry ordered.

"Okay okay! Jesus! Take the damn thing!" Serena cried.

She practically threw it at him. Michael snatched it out of the air and immediately checked it. It wasn't loaded.

"You took my damn ammo. Fracker." Michael grumbled.

...

Sherry pushed that manticore down in one of the seats, and glared down at her with a withering stare.

"You have no idea what my sweetie has gone through today. Behave." Sherry ordered.

"Really? Sorry. I had no idea. I thought you guys were throwing a party in here. That's...what I was told anyways." Serena said sorrowfully.

"Hardly. Sweetie was nearly killed today. A maniac in your Army tried to shoot him." Sherry explained.

"My god." Serena muttered.

...

She stuck her hand in her uniform jacket pocket and pulled out a brand new box of ammo, which she handed to Michael.

"I snuck this out of the armory for you. Hope it helps." Serena said.

Michael was surprised by her gesture, and he was reluctant to take it. But take it he did.

"Thanks." Michael murmured reluctantly.

"I was just playing around. I would've given you your piece back. You can be so damn salty sometimes, I was just trying to get you back a bit." Serena explained.

Michael sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry." Michael murmured.

"The department always keeps the ammo when they confiscate a firearm used in a shooting. It's evidence for the boys down in the ballistics lab. I had nothing to do with it." Serena explained.

"Yeah... I realized that a few seconds after I said it." Michael murmured.

"So you're clear Mike. No charges. You don't even have to show up in court. The body cams got the whole thing. Those crazies won't be hurting anyone for a long time. At least... the ones that lived." Serena said.

Michael winced and averted his eyes.

...

"So anyways, we came to see the show. You're gonna go through the portal, right?" Serena asked.

"Not for several hours more dear." Sherry said.

"Wait what? Why not?" Serena asked.

"It's not stable. Twenty four hours have to pass before anyone can step through it, or you could end up lost in the void forever." Michael said.

"And to be honest, I wish to extend it to two days. Considering how awful the ritual went, I wish to make absolutely sure it's safe." Sherry said.

"Well that sucks, but I guess there's no use bitching about it." Serena said, dejected.

She pulled out her smart phone and jumped to her feet.

"I'm still getting a selfie, even if I can't go through and see the other side." Serena said.

She went over to the portal with a few of her cop buddies, and they all began taking funny pictures of themselves with the portal as a backdrop. Michael followed along.

"Hey! This is freaking cool! You can see through it!" Serena exclaimed.

"You can?" Michael murmured.

"Yeah! Check it out Mike! You can see the other side if you look really close!" Serena exclaimed.

Michael squinted and looked closely at the portal. For a few moments, he could see something that looked an awful lot like a sunny green field with trees. It was hard to tell because of the visual warping effect of the portal, which reminded him of looking through a bottle of oil. But there was no denying it, he could see the other side.

"It looks like it might be pretty on the other side." Michael remarked.

*POP

And then just like that, the image was gone. It shifted to be nothing but black.

"Aww... it's gone!" Serena complained.

Sherry appeared at Michael's side, and he felt her hand grab his shoulder tightly.

"Behold. The blackness you see is the void. If you stepped through now, you would be lost forever." Sherry warned.

*POP

And the image changed back to the pleasant looking grassy field.

*POP POP

*POP!

The image shifted rapidly a few times between the green field and the blackness of the void. Michael shivered.

"Oh man that's freaky! Even if you tried to time it, the damn thing could switch at any second!" Michael warbled.

"Indeed. I would be much happier if you stayed farther away from the portal sweetie. Much much farther. Thank you." Sherry said.

She pulled him gently but firmly away from the portal, so there wouldn't be any... accidents.

"Hey Serena. I don't like you... but uh... I don't want to see you die. So get away from it. It's an accident waiting to happen." Michael said, waving his hand.

"I think you're right." Serena agreed whole heartedly.

The whole lot of them got very far away from the portal, and nobody wanted to go anywhere near it after that.

...

"Alright well, I guess it's time for my crew and I to get going. We've got a lot of tickets to give out today, and maybe even some wheel boots. Should be fun! See ya around!" Serena said cheerfully.

And with that, the police officers all walked out.

"Go eat a bag of dicks." Michael grumbled.

"Oh my! You really do hate her!" Sherry remarked.

"Only when she says bullshit things like that just now." Michael said.

"You really should be nicer to Serena. I don't believe she's a bad person." Sherry said.

"Maybe not, but she's a lousy cop. I hate lousy cops." Michael argued.

"But what of good cops?" Sherry asked.

Michael shrugged.

"They're just doing their job. I'm cool with that. I view them the same as I view people like Stavish." Michael said.

...

~Much Later~

...

Michael found himself being put to good use, fixing things around the theater so people would be more comfortable. He got the water running, fixed several lights, and then found himself trying to fix the heating system so people would stop shivering.

"Sweetie? I have something for you~" Sherry sang.

Michael looked up from the HVAC system he had been trying to repair, and saw Sherry heading his way.

"If this is about doing work for more than two hours, I haven't been..." Michael started to say.

"It's not about that sweetie." Sherry reassured.

She settled down next to him, and produced a small plastic box. Michael took it, and peeked inside. There was a little bitty miniature car inside, surrounded by a small amount of demonic energy.

"The Duster?" Michael asked.

"I brought it here as you asked, but it wore me out again and I didn't want to make it big unless you needed it. So I put it in this little magic box instead." Sherry said.

"What's so special about the box?" Michael asked.

"Anything placed inside will be protected from crushing, shaking, rattling, or being turned upside down. Perfect for something fragile like the Duster." Sherry explained.

"Well that's cool! Thanks!" Michael exclaimed.

"I put a little slip of paper inside with the magic word needed to make the Duster become large again. It'll use your mana, but it shouldn't be too much for you to handle. You might feel a little weak for a few minutes after you use it though. Be warned." Sherry explained.

Michael smiled and tucked the Duster safely away in his cargo pocket.

"Man portable, inflatable, Mopar A body. I love it!" Michael chuckled.

Sherry turned her eyes to the HVAC unit. Michael noticed where she was looking, and he smiled.

"I'll just be a minute here. I was trying to get the heat working. It's cold in here." Michael said.

"Is it? I can't tell." Sherry said.

"That's because you have a high body temperature. It's cold for me though." Michael said.

Michael grabbed a wrench handle that was protruding from the HVAC unit, and he put some force on it.

*CREAAAAAK

"C'mon you fracker... GO!" Michael grunted.

*SqueeeeeakCRACK!

And with that, the rusty fan began spinning relatively freely. Michael hosed it down with some PB blaster, and then closed up the service panel.

*Clickclick

"This is White Rook. Try it now." Michael said into his radio.

...

*BzzzzZZZZT CLACK!

A relay closed, and the fan spun up.

"Good job sweetie! You're so smart!" Sherry said proudly.

"This wasn't anything major. Anybody could have done this." Michael said, sighing.

...

He straightened and grabbed his tools, and began walking back to the main theater area. Sherry followed him closely.

"What's wrong sweetie? That was some sigh." Sherry noted.

"Oh it's just... I wish I could have something challenging to work on. Something that would allow me to put that college degree to good use." Michael remarked.

Sherry hummed and rubbed her chin.

...

"I know! The scholars and mages in my world like to have private work areas in which they may tinker. What if we put together one for you?" Sherry asked.

Michael paused mid stride.

"Hmm! You know... I think I like that. My own electronics lab. I really like that!" Michael said, smiling.

"Then you shall have it! Nothing is too much for my precious sweetie~" Sherry said sweetly.

*Smooch~

"Thanks Sherry, you're the best." Michael said happily.

...

"Oh and by the way sweetie... those soldiers and their wives went home." Sherry added.

"That's good. I hope they lead happy lives." Michael said, smiling.

...

..

.

They got back to the main portal room, where they found Stavish and a half dozen soldiers all sweeping up a heaping pile of cotton-like confetti material. It was all over the place, on the ground, on the chairs, in people's hair, and floating through the air. It looked like someone had blown up a quilt with a bomb.

"What the heck happened?" Michael asked.

"The damn pack racks stuffed the vents full of padding from the seats. As soon as the central heat turned on, all the shit blew out right on us." Stavish explained.

"Well it's a good thing you're dead already, because that probably means you can't get hantavirus." Michael quipped.

"Yeah well... maybe I'm dead, but I can still smell this shi..." Stavish tried to say.

*CRAAACK!

Stavish's words were abruptly cut short. Michael watched in horror as a bullet went right through her chest.

*Gurgle...cough...

Stavish fell into a heap.

...

*BRAAAT!

*BRIIIP

*BANGBRIITPOPOPPOP!

The whole room devolved into pure chaos as bullets started flying every which way. Michael grabbed Sherry and hit the deck. The radio was screaming with activity, a jumble of voices all crying out warnings or sightings of some unknown attacker.

"Sweetie!" Sherry cried, terrified.

"Stay down!" Michael shouted over the din.

He ripped open Stavish's ACU uniform shirt and checked her wound. It wasn't bleeding, but she clearly had been shot straight through the lungs. She seemed to be alive, but incapacitated. The perks of being undead he supposed. There seemed to be a lot of unknown soldiers appearing, all pouring into that portal room.

*SHIIING

A bad guy had managed to get close to them, and Sherry lashed out with her sword. He went down, his legs cut out from under him. The magic sword knocked him out cold.

"We can go out the utility corridor off the back of the stage!" Michael cried.

"Flee! Go now!" Sherry cried.

Michael grabbed Stavish by the drag handle of her load bearing vest, and the two of them crawled towards the stage. They made it to the music pit before the bad guys, whoever they were, began focusing their fire on the trio.

*CLUNK!

Michael's eyes widened as a live grenade landed on the ground right in front of his face.

"GRENADE!" Michael shouted.

He grabbed it and threw it into the empty music pit.

*WHUMP!

The whole room shook as the grenade went off, shattering glass while hot supersonic shrapnel whizzed overhead. Michael's and everyone else's ears were ringing, and Sherry was clutching her poor sensitive ears in pain. The lights over the portal were shredded, putting them in near total darkness. A disgusting slurry of murky water and trash rained down on them.

"Now's our chance! Go!" Michael cried.

He grabbed Stavish's drag handle again, and made a beeline for that utility corridor. Unfortunately, Sherry was too deaf from the explosion to hear his shout. In the darkness, he couldn't see if she was following or not.

*THWACK!

Michael reeled as he felt something akin to a freight train hit his back. If he hadn't have been wearing his body armor, he would have died in that instant. His fingers slipped loose of Stavish's drag handle.

*FWOOSH BOOM!

A rocket propelled grenade of unknown type flew through the length of the theater and detonated right next to Michael. He was out like a light.

...

..

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

*Chirp...

*Chirp chirp

Michael opened his eyes, only to close them again when he was instantly blinded by a bright light.

*Chirpchirp~

Michael groaned and rolled his aching body over, cracking his eyes open a little to get used to the bright sunlight. He was in a pleasant green field, filled with the sound of happy chirping birds and other forest creatures. Sitting upright, he slowly looked around.

"Oh crap on a cracker." Michael muttered.

...

*POP

Michael turned and looked behind him. Standing tall behind him was an identical copy of the portal in the theater, except it was in a grassy clearing with nothing around it other than wilderness and trees. The portal sat in a little crater in the loam, presumably caused when the portal formed.

*POP POP

The image in the portal was shifting wildly between the image of a black void, and a dark theater filled with silent muzzle flashes. He saw the warped image of someone coming closer.

"Crap!" Michael exclaimed.

He forced his crispy and singed body to get up and start running.

...

..

.

A single soldier stepped through the portal, his rifle raised in the ready position. He looked around, looking for any sign of his enemy. When he saw nothing, he waved the all clear to his companions.

"AAAAHHHHHhhhhhhhh..." Some voices screamed, fading in the distance.

The lone soldier turned around and looked back towards the portal, and saw that it no longer showed the theater hall. It showed pure blackness.

.

..

...

Meanwhile, Michael was on the other side of a small hill near the portal. He wasn't at the very top of it, which wasn't the wise place to be. It's too easy to skylight oneself by being at the top. He was half way down one side, looking towards the portal.

"Okay, so there's just one of them. If only I had my damn rifle! If I try to nail him with the Beretta, I might miss. And then he'll nail me for sure!" Michael thought.

His mind turned towards the miniaturized Duster in his pocket. Surely his rifle was in the trunk, because Stavish and Sherry said they had loaded things into the trunk. So he crawled back down the back side of the hill, and crouched down in a flat area while fishing around in his pocket. As luck would have it, the Duster box was still there.

...

He pulled the miniature Duster out of the box carefully, and placed it on the ground. Then he pulled out the little slip of paper, and unfolded it.

...

"Ah crap! I can't read this damn monster girl gibberish! I didn't even think to look at it!" Michael thought.

The text on the slip of paper was all written in arcane runes, as expected for anything relating to magic. Sherry wrote it without even thinking about it, because that was just normal for her. But Michael was in an emergency, and he needed that rifle. So he started guessing.

"Alakazam! Hocus pocus! Unga Bunga! Open says me! Oh for fracks sake!" Michael exclaimed in hushed tones.

*Zzyrt!

"Teeeeam elpha, this is teeeeeam bravvvvo lead. Do you copy? I lost ze taaaarget!" The soldier called on his radio.

Michael could hear the soldier calling for his comrades on the radio all the way from the other side of the hill. It was the most cliché team names imaginable, but it still made the adrenaline surge through his veins. That man was specifically hunting him.

...

"Okay think, what would a succubus use as a keyword for a spell? What would she say to make the Duster get bigger?" Michael thought.

...

..

.

"Erection!" Michael whispered.

*WHUMP!

The Duster became full sized in a flash of blue. Michael reeled, feeling much weaker all of a sudden. But he didn't care, he was smiles all around.

"Of course. Why would I expect anything else from Sherry?" Michael thought.

*Jingle...

Michael very carefully pulled out his keys, trying really hard not to make too much noise. He put the round key in the lock, and quietly opened the trunk. He didn't want to open it too much, because the trunk on the Duster tended to make a creaking sound when opened all the way. So he opened it just enough, stuck his arm in there, and felt around for a weapon. His fingers found the friendly familiar shape of an AK74 muzzle.

...

"Teeeam elpha! Come in teeeeam elpha! Come in!" The soldier called on the radio.

...

Michael crawled back up the hill, his AK74 cradled in his arms. The soldier was still down there, trying to raise someone on the radio. Of course Michael heard his calls, and his face filled with rage. The man was clearly not speaking in any accent that could normally be found in the United States. And looking at him, his uniform was clearly not the uniform of a U.S. soldier of any branch. In fact, he looked more like a mall ninja.

"This guy isn't an American! He has to be a foreign soldier of some kind!" Michael thought.

He slowly brought his rifle up, his sights lining up on that soldier. The thought of a foreign soldier standing there, having possibly killed his friends, and maybe even his wife, was enough to make Michael's blood boil in rage. It was one thing for a U.S. soldier to fight them, but a foreign soldier? An invader? A hostile country sending troops into their borders? Or perhaps a mercenary hired by the federales to hunt him down and kill him? The implications of all of it ran through Michael's head at warp speed.

...

And then, all at once, Michael shut down all that thought. There was only one thing that mattered. Putting a bullet through his target. His finger slowly squeezed the trigger.

*Exhaaaaaaaaaaaaale

*BANG!

The soldier dropped... and moved no more.

...

..

.

*THUD!

*Whirrr whirrr whirrr BRAA!

*Squuuuuuueeeaaaal!

The Duster roared away, leaving that clearing with the dead soldier in it. The sound of the Duster's engine faded away in the distance, and the clearing fell silent. The birds were no longer chirping.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

"Give up! We've got you boxed in! You can't escape!"

Stavish's men had beaten back the invaders, fighting them in the hallways and utility rooms of the theater. Eventually, they managed to beat them back to a dead end hallway with a couple of restrooms. And there they had them pinned.

*Shiiing

The friendly soldiers turned, and saw Sherry holding her sword. She was battered and bloody, but still very much alive.

"Stand aside! This ends now!" Sherry barked.

...

..

.

Shortly later, the attackers had become prisoners. They were stripped of their gear, lined up against a wall in the portal room, and placed under heavy guard. Sherry knelt down next to the fallen inma who had fought and fell in battle to defend the building. None of them were dead, but there were many wounded. Including one Specialist Stavish, who was practically blown to pieces.

"She took a near direct hit from an RPG. Can you fix her?" A soldier asked.

"I can, but it will take time. In the meantime, you must take over and ensure this place is safe. And find my husband!" Sherry ordered.

"Yes mistress!" A soldier exclaimed.

*Niiiiiiirow

*Gaaaasp!

Stavish's eyes flicked open, and she wheezed.

"Stay still friend, your body is heavily injured." Sherry said softly.

Stavish's body slowly began to reassemble itself. Thankfully, demonic energy was far better than all the king's horses and all the king's men at putting humpty dumpty back together again.

...

..

.

"Rise, for you have been healed." Sherry instructed.

Stavish sat upright, looking herself over. There wasn't a single sign of injury anywhere, other than her shredded clothes.

"That's the last damn time I get lazy and leave the body armor off!" Stavish exclaimed.

She jumped to her feet, her tattered uniform flapping everywhere. When the soldiers saw Stavish on her feet, they all cheered.

"Where's Mike?" Stavish asked.

"I know not. He's missing." Sherry said.

Stavish went to say something on her radio, but soon realized the unit was blasted to pieces. It wasn't about to function as a radio... ever again.

"You! Radio!" Stavish barked.

She took someone else's radio, clicked the PTT twice, and started talking.

"Net call, net call! This is headless horseman! Where the hell is white rook?" Stavish demanded in the radio.

"We're searching H and H. We can't find him." The radio said.

Stavish turned to Sherry, who was just getting comfortable on a nearby bench. She looked like she was about to be ill.

"Can't you do some sort of magic whirly-goo and find him?" Stavish asked.

"I can, but I am very low on mana. I'll probably pass out." Sherry said.

"They might have taken him prisoner and ran off with him! You'd better do it!" Stavish exclaimed.

...

"You're right! Very well!" Sherry exclaimed, frightened.

She raised her hand, palm upwards. Magic filled her fingers.

"I summon thee... Michael Collins!" Sherry exclaimed.

*Pfft!

Nothing happened other that the spell dissapating into the air, punctuated with a lame fart sound.

"Well?" Stavish asked.

"It didn't work!" Sherry exclaimed, shocked.

Stavish's eyes widened even wider than Sherry's.

"Does that mean he's dead?!" Stavish asked.

Sherry slowly shook her head.

"If he were dead, his body would have been summoned here. No. There's only two things that could stop that spell. Another mage... or..." Sherry trailed off.

Her eyes turned towards the portal.

"Oh my god." Stavish murmured.

"Please no. Please let it not be so. Please... Druella and Lilith... do not let it be true!" Sherry warbled.

...

..

.

~Hours Later~

.

..

...

Michael drove for hours away from that portal. Hours didn't equal a great number of miles. He was after all... driving a two wheel drive vehicle with low ground clearance across very primitive terrain. So he got a couple dozen miles away, and ended up stuffing the Duster into the semi privacy of a gully. As the engine sputtered silent, Michael sat there with a grim look on his face. He said a small prayer.

"...I'm heartily sorry for having offended thee..." Michael murmured.

Once he was done, he took stock of his own physical condition. He was covered in burns, shrapnel cuts, scorch marks, and his back ached terribly.

"Sherry's wards must have protected me from most of the blast. I should be dead right now." Michael thought.

He slowly heaved his aching body out of the driver's seat, and then slipped off the ballistic armor.

*Schrrrrrriiiip

He ripped opened the Velcro pocket on the back of the vest, and small crumbling chunks of ceramic rifle plate fell out and plopped onto the ground. His fingers dug around inside for a while, and he found the deformed remains of a 5.56 projectile.

"Holy shit." Michael said under his breath.

Plopping the vest onto the driver seat, Michael pulled his shirt up and looked at his back with the side mirror of the Duster. There was a black and blue bruise the size of a dinner plate right over his liver.

"Holy freaking shit." Michael said under his breath.

He took his keys, rounded the car, and popped the trunk.

*Creeeeak

The trunk popped open, and Michael gaped. There was a little present inside, courtesy of Specialist Stavish. A treasure trove of goodies, enough to make the eyes of a gun nut like Michael sparkle. On the very top of the pile, there was a mint condition M24E1 sniper rifle. With ammo, and all the accessories. Including the thermal scope. Next to the M24 was a case of M67 grenades, and an M72 LAW tube.

"What the hell were you thinking Stavish? You're never... EVER getting this stuff back!" Michael said aloud, grinning.

He noticed another ballistic armor vest, which he grabbed and pulled the rear plate from.

"I'll use this to get my carrier back up to spec. After what happened, I don't think I could bring myself to cross the hallway to take a piss without wearing body armor." Michael thought.

...

On the other side of the trunk were several plastic totes with a note on top. The note was from Desdemona, wishing Michael good luck in his endeavor. On the back of Desdemona's note was another note penned by Alistair, claiming to have included a case of chocolate bars to give to Druella and anyone else who wanted them. But try as he might, Michael couldn't figure out where those bars were hidden. All that was contained in those plastic totes was a variety of medicines.

"I could use something to eat right about now. I'm not feeling too good." Michael thought.

...

Michael changed gears and looked in the cab of the car. In the back seat were several boxes and suitcases. There were personal items, such as clothes and tools, but no food. Michael even found some of his FPV drone gear, that Sherry had packed at his request.

"Where's the damn food Sherry?" Michael muttered.

He tore the whole car apart, desperate to find anything edible. But there was nothing... nothing... nothing. Nothing except a single piece of mint candy that he found in the glove box.

...

Michael slumped to the ground next to the Duster, his back leaning against the quarter panel.

"I'm fracked without food. This damn hypoglycemia will kill me off far sooner than any normal person would starve." Michael thought.

...

"I bet I know what happened too. She's probably keeping all the food in her pocket dimension, to make damn sure she keeps it safe. She never figured on being separated from me." Michael thought.

...

"But I can't go back to the portal. I'll get shot for sure. It's better for me to stay out here in the wilderness, where I can't be found. If Sherry's still alive, she'll find me." Michael thought.

*Chirp

*Chirpchirp

Michael looked upwards towards the trees above, where the birds were chirping. Then he heaved a large sigh and smacked his knee.

"Well... I guess I'd better get off my ass and go hunt something." Michael thought.

Michael picked up his trusty AK, locked down the Duster, and plodded off into the woods as quietly as possible.

...

~An Hour Later~

...

Michael knelt down in what appeared to be a game trail of some kind, and he examined the footprints in the soil.

"Damn! What made that print? It's four times the size of my boot!" Michael thought.

*RUSTLE!

Michael froze, slowly raising his rifle. Something was in the bushes up ahead. He was hoping for a deer, but he'd take almost anything edible. Almost.

*THUD

...

*THUD

Michael slowly turned his head, his eyes as wide as saucers. Standing right next to him, looming over him, and peering at him with beady red eyes... was a demon realm boar. An honest to goodness, elephant sized, smelly, angry looking, demon realm boar.

"Heh...heh... heh~ Hey there buddy~ I'm not hunting you~ honest~" Michael warbled fearfully.

*HUFF

A blast of stagnant hot air rushed past Michael's head. It seemed to be... sniffing him.

*HUFF HUFF

The demon realm boar seemed to decide that Michael and his pea shooter wasn't much of a threat, so it thudded past him towards the bushes Michael had been looking at previously. A much smaller, but still massive, baby demon realm boar popped out of the bushes. Reunited again, the boar family wandered off into the forest while shaking trees as they went.

"Whew!" Michael sighed.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

Stavish was standing outside the theater, her M4 in hand, as a United States Army convoy rolled up. An officer stepped out of one of the lead vehicles, a captain. Not the same captain from before, a new captain. Stavish saluted.

"We got your message Specialist. You've got our attention. You'd better be telling the truth about those foreign troops." The captain said.

"Everything I reported was true sir. We're ready to hand them over immediately." Stavish said.

The captain looked Stavish over from head to toe, getting a reading on her as best he could. She was battered, war torn, and looked angry enough to piss napalm. But she wasn't about to let a golden opportunity pass her by.

"Maybe we're in the middle of a conflict between us sir, but we're all still Army. And we swore an oath to defend against all enemies, both foreign and domestic. These soldiers are foreign enemies on US soil. That's way bigger than humans verses monster girls." Stavish argued.

"Well said Specialist. We're ready to take them whenever you are." The captain said.

Stavish clicked her radio four times, and a line of prisoners began marching out the front door of the theater. Soldiers from the convoy jumped out and rounded them all up, cuffed them, and shoved them non too kindly into the vehicles.

...

"Between you and me Specialist, how did you figure out they were foreign? Did one of them talk?" The captain asked.

"No sir. One of them wanted to smoke." Stavish said.

"Come again?" The captain asked.

"Americans hold cigarettes using the thumb and index finger, but other countries use the middle and ring fingers. Especially Europeans." Stavish explained.

She used a ballpoint pen to illustrate what she was talking about.

"Well son of a bitch. Good work specialist. I'll pass that observation along to Army Intelligence. I can't promise anything, but I think this is going to change a lot of things around here." The captain said.

And with that, they all mounted up and drove off. Stavish sighed in relief.

"Michael would have wanted that." Stavish whispered.

...

She marched back into the theater, where she saw some workers cleaning up the remains of the fire fight. Sherry was knelt down on her knee at the portal, her sword in her hand with the tip lodged into the floor of the stage. It was the pose of a knight waiting to leap into battle.

"She hasn't moved an inch since she went down there." A soldier mentioned.

...

Stavish went down to the stage, and joined Sherry.

"Is there anything I can do for you mistress?" Stavish asked.

"Have all your warriors ready to move out as soon as the portal stabilizes." Sherry ordered.

"Yes mistress. Anything else?" Stavish asked.

...

"No." Sherry said through gritted teeth.

...

*POP

The portal changed from blackness, to the image of the green field. Sherry flinched slightly. It was everything she could do to keep herself from throwing all caution to the wind and taking her chances with the unstable portal. The reason Sherry was so anxious was obvious.

"I can just barely see a body on the other side. I know not if it is my husband, or some stranger." Sherry said quietly.

Her hand trembled as she clutched her sword even tighter.

"The tomes state that once the image of your destination remains for half a day, then it is safe to use." Sherry said.

"Is it possible that Michael... didn't make it?" Stavish asked.

*Rattle

Sherry's shaking arm grew even worse.

"Yes." Sherry warbled.

Stavish stood there for a while, wanting to say something that would make her feel better. But try as she might, nothing came to mind.

...

*Clickclick

"Net call. I want a fully equipped squad ready to go as of this moment. We're going to search for white rook as soon as the portal is stable. That is all." Stavish said on the radio.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

Michael managed to get back to the Duster before the sun set. He sank into the driver's seat, and sighed tiredly.

"Okay, now what? I still can't go back to the portal. So... do I keep trying to hunt? Or should I keep driving?" Michael thought.

...

"If I keep going, which direction do I go? This forest is no good for the Duster, and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere. Is there a settlement nearby? Could I barter for food?" Michael thought.

...

The wheels began turning in his head, and he formed a mischievous grin.

"If there's a demon realm boar, then there must be a demon realm around here somewhere." Michael thought.

...

..

A few minutes later. Michael found himself sitting on the hood of the Duster with a pair of FPV goggles on his head. He plugged a battery into his drone, and pulled the goggles down over his eyes.

*CLICK

He threw a switch on the transmitter, and a female voice resonated from the speaker inside.

"Armed." The transmitter said.

*Whiiiiiiiiiirrrrr

The drone launched into the air, and quickly gained altitude. This particular drone was very different than the one Michael had built for his final project in school. While that drone had been a slow flying and super stable camera drone, the one he found himself flying was a super high performance, super high speed freestyle drone. It had five inch propellers, and had a top speed of around ninety miles an hour. And it sounded absolutely awesome as it flew through the air.

...

Michael gained altitude, the FPV feed beaming directly back to his goggles. It was as if he were inside the drone, and he used it as a scout to look all around him from high up.

"Hello there. If that's not a demon realm, then I don't know what is. And a road! Due east!" Michael thought.

Michael made the drone do a victory flip, and brought it back down to land neatly on the hood of the Duster.

...

..

.

The Next Morning

*GLORP

*PLOP

*GLOOP

The portal made goo like sounds as Sherry, Stavish, and a squad of her best fighters all made their way through the portal.

"It's not Michael!" Stavish exclaimed.

Sherry was knelt down next to the body of the dead foreign soldier, her sword raised in her right hand while she reached down with her left. Rolling him over revealed a hole through his head. The man had died before he even hit the ground.

"That's a bullet hole! It could be Michael!" Stavish said excitedly.

"Search the area! Leave no stone unturned!" Sherry ordered.

"Mackenzie! Coop! Set up a radio over on that hill! Try to raise white rook! The rest of you, scout the area!" Stavish ordered.

So they spread out, searching the whole area very thoroughly. The two soldiers on radio duty tried raising Michael while they moved up to the top of the hill.

"It rained last night! Drat! It's ruined the trail!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Can't you do that whole summoning thing again?" Stavish asked.

"NO! If I do that, he would most certainly die!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Wait what?!" Stavish exclaimed.

Sherry sighed.

"I sense the aura of this land. The prevalent mana. This is smack in the middle of Order controlled territory. They have traps to capture anyone who attempts to teleport, with numerous armed knights waiting in ambush. Even if he were prepared for it, and he's not, he wouldn't stand a chance!" Sherry explained.

*Niiiiirow

Sherry cast a quick spell.

"What was that?" Stavish asked.

"I just nullified the spell which teleports sweetie to me if he says the word 'help'. Lilith forgive me if he uses it without understanding the danger." Sherry said.

...

..

~Shortly Later~

..

...

"Headless horseman, this is McDickwiggle. I found a fired cartridge on top of the hill. It's one of them funny looking roosky cartridges." The radio said.

"You stay right there and don't touch anything! We'll be right there!" Stavish exclaimed into the radio.

Stavish and Sherry both hustled to the top of the hill, where the radioman and her backup were waiting. She plopped the cartridge into Stavish's outstretched hand. Sure enough, Stavish recognized the all too familiar green tinge of the infamous 7n6 cartridge. The very same cartridge that she had helped Michael load into magazines the other day.

"It's 5.45x39. Yeah. This is Michael's for sure. He was the only one using them." Stavish said.

She looked at the lay of the land on top the hill, and then looked back towards the portal.

"Looks like he laid prone here and nailed that guy by the portal." Stavish deduced.

Sherry knelt down by the disturbed grass, her nose twitching.

"You're right. He laid down here, and destroyed that enemy down there. Then he... fled... down that way." Sherry said distantly.

Sherry followed the scent down to the bottom side of the hill, where it became concentrated again.

"Tire tracks. Looks like he took off in his Duster. And in a big hurry too from the looks of it." Stavish observed.

"I cannot track him if he is using the Duster. It leaves too thin of a scent trail." Sherry said.

"And the rain wiped out most of the tire tracks. So we're fucked. He could have gone anywhere!" Stavish said.

"At least he's still alive, and not lost in the void." Sherry said.

Stavish turned and looked up the hill towards the two soldiers who had found the fired casing.

"Get on that radio and keep trying to raise him! Use my call!" Stavish ordered.

"We're on it!" The two soldiers said.

They plopped down a big man-portable radio, and started calling.

"White rook, white rook, this is Headless horseman tertiary. Come in please. White rook, white rook, this is Headless horseman tertiary. Come in."

...

~Meanwhile~

...

*Zrrgt!

Michael's radio emitted a burst of static. He slowed down the Duster, and brought it to a stop.

...

..

He picked up the radio, and listened for a while. He didn't hear the sound again.

"Oh well. One can hope I guess." Michael muttered.

He turned the radio off to preserve battery life, and plopped it on the passenger seat. Maybe not the wisest move he could have made, but he hoped it would pay off in the end. Tapping on the gas, he got the Duster lurching down the poor condition rutted road he had found. Up ahead on the horizon was a wall of black clouds. A demon realm.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

"We're not getting him!" The soldiers called.

"Keep trying! Set up the high gain antenna!" Stavish ordered.

Stavish and Sherry rounded the hill and got back to the portal. From there, Stavish barked some more orders.

"Get the vehicles down here and through the portal! We're going to need them! Get that work crew through here and set up base camp! I want a gun emplacement right there, there, and there! Move it!" Stavish ordered.

"I must have my husband returned to me. Immediately!" Sherry pressed.

"I know mistress. We're going to do everything we can. If this really is Order territory, then we need to secure this position. We'll find him!" Stavish reassured.

...

..

.

~Much Later~

.

..

...

*Grrr...grr ...gr

The Duster came to a halt on that dirt road in the middle of nowhere. It had been progressively becoming a better road as he traveled, and Michael had hoped that meant he was getting near civilization. And as it would turn out, he was. He saw a trail of smoke on the horizon.

"Finally! Signs of life!" Michael exclaimed, smiling.

He had come across a lonely farm house, situated just off the main road. It was a cute looking cottage, with a lovely yet simple front porch. Smoke slowly rose from the chimney, indicating that someone had been there recently. Near the house was a lovely red barn, and near the barn were some fenced-in farm fields filled with freshly furrowed fertile soil.

"I'll knock on the door and see if they'd be willing to trade something for a little food." Michael thought.

He pulled the Duster off the road, and let the engine sputter silent. Getting out, he kept his trusty AK lowered but ready. Just in case.

...

He walked to the front door, his head on a swivel. There wasn't any sign of people yet, but he assumed they were probably frightened by the sight and sound of the Duster.

*Creeeeak

The porch creaked under Michael's weight as he walked up to the front door.

*Knockknockknock

...

Michael waited for an answer. As he waited, his eyes raked all over the front door and doorframe. He noticed a design carved into the frame, which he gently touched with his fingers.

"The eye of Lilith. They're monsters, whoever they are. Or monster friendly." Michael thought.

*Knockknockknock

"Hello? My name's Michael, I'm a traveler from a far away land! I don't mean any harm, I just want to trade for food!" Michael called.

There was no answer. Michael went to knock again, but the door popped off its latch and slowly creaked open on its own.

...

The inside of the house was just as lovely and warm looking as the outside. It was clearly the home of a happy comfortable family. It was a little dark, so Michael flashed an LED flashlight inside. There was nobody there. He saw a rocking chair by the fire, and what appeared to be children's toys laying on the floor.

...

Michael was starting to get a little worried. Something wasn't sitting right with him. A bad vibe so to speak. And there was something about that house... it sent a chill up his spine. It felt like he was being watched.

...

He could see through the length of the house, and he could see that the back door was open. On the other side of the back door, laying on the ground, was what appeared to be an empty shoe.

"Something's very wrong here." Michael thought.

*click

Michael flipped the safety on his rifle down to Fire, and carefully stepped into the house.

"I'm coming in! Hello? Is there anyone here? Is everything okay?" Michael called.

...

"If you don't want me here, just tell me and I'll leave!" Michael called.

...

The house was dark, with the only light coming from a window and the dying embers of the fireplace. He went straight through without lingering too long, and went out the back door.

...

..

.

"Oh god!" Michael gasped.

There were three bodies. A man, a woman, and a child.

...

~Later~

...

*SHINK

*Plop

*SHINK

*Plop

Michael straightened and wiped the sweat from his brow. With shovel in hand, he did the only thing a good Roman Catholic would do. He painstakingly dug three graves. Then he very carefully, very gently, as respectfully as he could, lowered those poor farmers down into their final resting places. The man was just as anyone would expect, an ordinary man. No different looking than Michael was. But the woman and child...

"Who would kill a holstaur? They're harmless." Michael thought.

And then, one shovel full at a time, covered them up. After they were all covered, Michael looked around and found a big flat rock. He took his pocket knife and scratched into the stone...

Unknown. Man, Holstaur, Child. Died November 2018. R.I.P.

Michael felt numb as he stood there in front of those graves. His hands ached and had blisters, but the pain wasn't even registering in his brain compared to having seen those poor people laying there like that. And it wasn't just any old murder either. Before burying the farmers, he had done a brief investigation. All three bodies had jagged crosses carved into their flesh. It didn't take a genius to figure out the Order had done the killing.

...

He tried to think up something to say, but he couldn't think of anything. He hadn't known who those people were, other than the very brief look into their home.

"I'll tell Druella, or Lilith, or anyone who will listen, about what happened here. We'll find them, and stop them. I promise!" Michael warbled.

After a few moments of hesitation, Michael turned and walked away.

...

Michael put their shovel back where he had found it, and strolled into their home. He closed the back door so no critters would run inside, and walked towards the front door. As he passed through their house, he noticed their kitchen. And more specifically... their pantry.

...

He paused, wondering if it was right to do what he was thinking of doing.

"Is that okay? I mean... they're dead. And I'll be dead too if I don't get something to eat. What if I left money on the table? Or maybe I should just walk away." Michael thought.

Michael was no thief. He wasn't even comfortable standing in their house. Even though he wasn't even remotely in the wrong, he still felt uncomfortable. He had a very deep set respect for private property, property lines, and other such barriers. He would refuse to visit other people's houses as a kid because of this phobia of trespassing.

...

But on the other hand, he had busted his ass digging those graves. He was hungrier than ever, and he could feel his blood sugar crashing down on him. So he made the snap decision and went for the pantry.

"I'll leave some dosh on the table. I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Michael thought.

The pantry was a set of nice looking double doors, which lead to a miniature room with shelves. Shining his flashlight inside, he gasped.

"Dang! These people were loaded!" Michael thought.

The shelves were absolutely crammed with food. Lines and rows of jars, barrels, dried goods, flour, grains, dried meats, and the whole nine yards. It was a farmer's smorgasbord. It must have taken that family quite a lot of work to squirrel away all that food. He reached for a jar of peaches.

*SNAG!

Michael nearly jumped out of his socks when he felt something grab his wrist.

"GAAAAH!" Michael shouted in fright.

Some invisible force violently yanked him away from the pantry. He landed in the living room with a thud. Michael flashed his flash light, and caught a glimpse of something in the room with him. If he shone the flashlight directly at it, the image disappeared. But if he used indirect light, he could make out the ghostly shape of a person. It was a holstaur.

"Leave this place..." The ghost said eerily.

"I was going to pay for it! Honest! I'm not a thief!" Michael blubbered.

The shadow came a little closer, and resolved itself into a more easy to see shape. It was without a doubt... the very same holstaur he had just buried.

"The food is poisoned..." The ghost warned eerily.

Michael turned pale. He had come very close to joining those poor innocent farmers in death.

"The Order murdered us... poisoned the food... leave this place." The ghost said eerily.

"Okay! I will! But... what about you?" Michael asked.

"You laid us to rest... we can move on now... thank you..." The ghost said eerily.

"What if someone else comes here after I leave? You won't be around to warn them!" Michael fretted.

"Destroy it all..." The ghost instructed eerily.

...

..

.

A few minutes later, Michael walked into the cottage with a tire iron and a can of spray paint. Marching into the pantry, he knocked every jar off the shelves.

*SHATTER

*BREAK

*CRUNCH!

He stabbed the bags of grain and flour, dumped out the sugar and tea, and laid waste to everything. Then he slammed the doors shut, and used a can of black spray paint to write POISON in big letters across the pantry doors. He topped it off with a skull and cross bones.

.

..

...

Michael sank down on the porch, his body filled with fatigue.

"That might be one of the hardest things I've ever done. Nope. Not even close. Burying the family definitely tops the list." Michael thought.

He saw a shadow appear in front of him, an outline of a holstaur. She was easier to see than she had been before. She peered at him with her ghostly eyes.

"I have a medical condition. If I don't find some food soon, I'll die." Michael explained.

The ghost slowly raised her arm, and pointed down the road Michael had been traveling on. He followed it with his eyes.

"What's down that way? Something to eat?" Michael asked.

"Lescatie..." The ghost said eerily.

Michael straightened instantly.

"Lescatie?! The ACTUAL Lescatie?!" Michael exclaimed.

"Yessss..." The ghost said eerily.

*CLINK

Michael startled when a canvas bag dropped onto the porch next to him. He looked up, and could see another ghost outline. That time, it was a man. And holding the man's hand was the shape of the daughter. The whole family was there.

"Take it... we don't need it now..." The ghostly man said eerily.

Michael picked up the canvas bag, and peeked inside. It was filled with a double handful of silver coins, about the size of dimes. If they had been dimes, it might have been around ten or twenty dollars in face value, ignoring the value of silver.

"I can't... I can't take your money. It's wrong." Michael refused.

"We shall reincarnate some day... and you may pay us back... use it to buy food..." The ghostly man said eerily.

...

"Thank you." Michael said, humbled.

"Goodbye..." The ghosts said eerily.

And with that, the ghosts moved on to the next life.

...

..

Michael slid behind the wheel of the Duster, cranked it to life, and ripped down the road towards Lescatie. Little did he know... that wouldn't be the last time he saw signs of the Order.

.

~Meanwhile~

.

*BRAAAAAH!

A Bradley Fighting Vehicle powered through the portal, it's engine roaring as it peeled past the guards and took up a position in the ever growing motor pool. The whole place was a beehive of activity as soldiers dug in for an extended stay. Stavish had the whole place running like clockwork, with everyone doing something. At least... everyone except a certain anxious succubus.

"We must do something! Too much time has passed! I must find sweetie!" Sherry protested strongly.

Sherry was in withdrawal. Her whole body was terribly itchy, and it was driving her nearly to insanity worrying about Michael. She wanted him. She needed him. Immediately.

"Enough of this! I wait no longer! I shall begin the search on my own!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Wait wait wait! Where are you going to look!? We have no idea where to start!" Stavish exclaimed.

"I know not, but I shall begin none the less! I shall head east from here, in the direction those tire tracks seemed to go!" Sherry explained.

"WE will go east from here. Hop into that hmmwv mistress, and we'll ALL go look for Mike!" Stavish said.

Several Days Later

*Grr

*Grr...drift

...

*THUD!

The Duster drifted off the road, and wound up in a small ditch. The engine sputtered silent.

...

The driver door popped open, and Michael tried to get out. Tried, and failed.

*POMF

Michael fell out of the car, landing face first in the dirt. He groaned, and dragged his legs off the floorboard.

"Food... I need... food..." Michael thought.

Michael was in such bad shape, he had nearly passed out behind the wheel. He had been driving nonstop for days, desperately trying to get to Lescatie. He had eaten that piece of candy that morning, but it didn't last long before his blood sugar crashed again. And with it, his mental faculties crashed as well. Then the Duster crashed right into that ditch.

...

He had passed into the demon realm some time before, but his fuzzy brain couldn't remember when. There were no animals to be found, no matter how hard he looked. It seemed as if some great power had come through and swooped up all the game animals, leaving the land barren. Anything that looked even remotely edible had been stripped clean, leaving Michael firmly up shit creek without a paddle.

*RollPOMF!

Michael rolled into the ditch, and lay there panting as a cloud of dust slowly rose into the stagnant air.

"I'm gonna die... in a ditch... on the side of the road... frack me..." Michael mumbled.

...

"Sherry... help me..." Michael mumbled.

Nothing happened. The magic word didn't work. Michael didn't teleport to the loving arms of his wife. His heart sank even more. He thought... perhaps he should have stayed at the portal and fought it out. But Michael had never anticipated ending up in a situation like that.

...His eyes began to drift shut.

...

*RufflePLOP

Michael's eyes popped open when he heard something plop onto the ground right above his head. Slowly, he turned his head and looked. In the ditch a few feet away from where Michael had collapsed was a scraggily looking bush.

"That's... prisoner fruit." Michael thought.

Sure enough, there was a prisoner fruit bush just out of arm's reach. And luckily for Michael, it was laden with the luscious heart shaped fruits.

*Draaaaaaag

*Scrraaaaaape

Michael dragged himself over to the bush, and stared hungrily at the pink fruits. Of course he knew what they were, and what they did to people. It was clearly outlined in the Monster Girl Encyclopedia. They had the power to turn women into inma, and make men more appealing to inma. And they were addicting. If he were to eat them, his body would begin to undergo permanent changes. If he didn't eat them, he would most certainly die.

...

It was a very easy decision to make.

...

He picked up the fruit that had naturally fallen off the bush, and wiped the dirt off. Bringing it up to his hungry lips, he very carefully took a bite.

*POP

A surge of sweet juices shot into his mouth, like biting into an overripe plum. The white flesh of the fruit was utterly delicious on its own, and was ESPECIALLY delicious to a starving man like Michael. After he got his first taste, he was hooked instantly. He practically inhaled it. The taste reminded Michael a lot of Cherimoya, which was a type of fruit that grew back on earth. The common name for Cherimoya was "ice cream fruit", for obvious reasons. It tasted like fruity ice cream.

...

A few minutes later, Michael staggered out of the ditch, rubbing his head.

"Damn, I feel a lot better now!" Michael thought.

Michael looked around, and saw entire fields overgrown with prisoner fruit plants. But every last one of them had been picked clean. The one he had taken fruit from was hidden out of view from anyone who might have been using the road.

"Maybe there's something to that fate thing Sherry was talking about after all. What are the odds I'd crash right here, right next to the one bush with fruit still on it? It's like someone's looking out for me." Michael thought.

Michael's eyes turned towards the Duster, and he surveyed the damage. Thankfully there wasn't much. The ditch wasn't too terribly deep, and he hadn't caused much more than a couple of dents in his bumper. He sat down in the driver seat, fired up the engine, and managed to pull the Duster out of the ditch under its own power. Just before driving away, Michael hopped out of the car with a plastic bus box, and collected up all the remaining fruit still on the bush. He plopped it on the passenger seat, buckled up, and peeled out of there.

...He didn't make it more than a mile down the road before he started munching again on those addictive fruits.

...

~Several Hours Later~

...

With his strength renewed, Michael made good time as he penetrated deeper and deeper into the demon realm. He was looking for anything, anything at all, that could point towards a sign of civilization. But as he drove, he found nothing but one burned out farm house after another. As the number of ransacked farm houses increased, Michael realized that he was getting closer to some sort of town or city. There never was a single soul on the roads, just more and more signs of destruction. The situation was painfully obvious.

"A war went through here recently." Michael thought.

The Duster began to climb a large hill. As Michael got near the top, he could see smoke billowing into the sky from the other side. So he played it safe, and brought the Duster to a halt three quarters up the hill. The engine sputtered silent, and Michael hopped out with AK in hand. He got near the top of the hill, and then went prone and crawled the rest of the way.

.

..

...

There was a thunderous sound on the other side of the hill. The sound of thousands of voices roaring in anger echoed off the hills. For the very first time in Michael's life, he witnessed a medieval battle.

...

Far below was a great valley. In the center of that valley was a massive city. There was no doubt in Michael's mind at all that he had found the legendary city of Lescatie. The seat of power for Druella, and the bleeding front line in the war between monsters and humans. But the joy in his accomplishment was short lived, because surrounding that beautiful city was an army of humans.

...

Michael brought his trusty pair of world war two binoculars with him when he crawled up that hill. They let him get a close view of the chaos and destruction far below.

"The city is still flying Druella's crest on their flag. So they haven't been conquered yet. Thank goodness! And that army... they're flying the banner of the Order. The city is under siege by the Order!" Michael thought.

*FWOOSH!

A large ball of energy, not unlike a signal flare, shot up from the city. It got up to about two hundred feet, and was immediately deflected by some unknown force. Michael quickly deduced what he had seen.

"They're signaling for help, and the Order is stopping them." Michael deduced.

*BANG

*CRASH

A volley of catapult fire came from the Order, and pummeled the walls of Lescatie. Michael's eyes could see several highly damaged sections, with work crews frantically trying to repair them. Michael also observed less people on the walls than what he would have expected, indicating that the fighting strength of Lescatie wasn't as high as the Order army knocking on their doors. And speaking of the door, the main gate was in rough shape as well.

*BFWOOSHBANG!

A powerful blast of crimson magic shot from the walls of Lescatie, but it never reached the Order soldiers. A ward protected them.

"What the hell!? I thought Druella and her fallen heroes could beat the Order!" Michael exclaimed angrily.

*KABOOM!

Michael jerked as an explosion erupted from the walls of Lescatie. One of the catapults had launched a bomb into the walls, which heavily damaged a section. Several inma were injured in the blast.

...

The smell of burning sulfur wafted over Michael.

"Black powder! The bastards invented black powder!" Michael exclaimed.

The order assaulted the weak section of the wall, and the defenders began to waver. Several siege towers crept towards the city as clouds of arrows flew back and forth.

...

The image of that dead family at the farm house popped into Michael's head. He easily envisioned that horrid scene a hundred fold if the Order were to conquer Lescatie. He could almost hear Sherry's voice in the back of his head, wailing over the loss of her mistress and the loss of countless innocent people who just wanted to live in peace. Sherry's home was at stake. Thousands of lives were at stake.

"I'm not going to stand for it!" Michael exclaimed.

He crawled back down the hill, and then made a low crouched run back to the Duster. He abandoned his AK in the driver seat, and took up an entirely different class of weapon. An M24E1 rifle. Grabbing every cartridge he had for it, he carried that heavy gear back up the hill.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

Inside the city of Lescatie, locked shoulder to shoulder on the walls, stood the brave inma warriors. They had devoted their lives to the defense of the city, their homes, and their loved ones. Many of them were called Dark Knights, the career soldiers of Lescatie. But some of them were merchants, artists, farmers, or masons, all volunteers in the battle. They were weary as the seemingly endless horde of humans assaulted their walls.

...

They were held together by one person. One figure who was the glue that bound them. A powerful succubus with white hair, fighting side by side with her warriors.

"Mistress! We cannot hold much longer! The west wall will surely fold!" A knight cried.

"Hold! Hold fast! Do not let them past! If the wall falls, then our families are all doomed!" Druella cried.

"Will the monster lord come? Is help on the way?" Another knight asked.

...

"Have faith! We haven't been defeated yet! Hold strong, and know that help comes! Keep fighting to your last breath!" Druella cried.

Even as Druella said it, she knew it was a lie. There was no help coming. No one had any idea that Lescatie was under attack. The assault had come too swiftly. But she had to say it, or her knights would lose all hope. And hope was all she had left to give them.

...

Druella was a powerful leader, but how could even she withstand that impossibly powerful assault? The Order had an untold number of heroes in their midst. They were sent there specifically to protect their army from magical attacks. And the heroes never participated in the assaults, staying back in relative safety while the conscripts wasted themselves against the dark knight's arrows. What Druella needed the most... was divine intervention. Or at least, the next best thing. She closed her eyes, and silently pleaded with all her heart to her mother.

...

And her answer came on the wind.

*CRACK!

Druella and all her knights jerked when the sound of a distant thunderous boom echoed across the battlefield. They didn't know it yet, but deep within the midst of the human horde... a hero clutched his chest and fell over dead.

*CRACK!

Again the sound echoed across the battlefield, and again another hero keeled over dead.

"Mistress! Does someone come to our aid?"

*CRACK!

The gunshot echoed across the battlefield, signaling the death of a hostile invader. Someone on the walls spotted the thinning magicians, and they began cheering.

*CRACK!

...

..

.

One by one, Michael picked off anyone who stood out as special amongst the Order. First he started with the ones wearing cloaks and fancy armor, the heroes. Then he picked off the ones wearing robes, the mages. Then he picked off the ones sitting on horses and pointing their arms everywhere, the officers. Then he picked off the ones who tried to help the wounded, the healers. He was the harbinger of death, and he dealt it out as he pleased. No one was safe. He was their lord and master for a time.

...

At least... until he ran out of .300 win mag. He only had a few hundred rounds to begin with, and he blew right through it before long. Every round had hit someone, so it was a few hundred casualties. Whether that made a difference in the battle, Michael could only guess.

...

The Order was in complete disarray. They lost the initiative entirely, with leaderless soldiers doing whatever the hell they wanted. Many of them, the fanatics they were, charged the walls and attempted to burst through the damaged section of the wall. They were met with magical attacks of devastating effect. Their heroes and mages were gone, and so were their wards.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

"Victory is ours! They're withdrawing! Victory!" The dark knights cheered.

While the air was filled with excitement, there was one among them who felt nothing but dread. Druella, with her devilish eyes turned towards the hill on which Michael had conducted his sniping operation. She knew someone was up there, although she didn't know who. And she knew, whoever it was, that they were alone.

"Flee you fool. Flee!" Druella whispered.

She saw a detachment of Order Calvary heading straight for that hill. They knew someone was up there too. And they were going to stop the attack if it was the last thing they did.

"Fly you fool! Fly!" Druella cried a little louder.

Some of the knights around Druella seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, and they too turned their eyes to that hill. They watched as the Order crested the hill, raised their swords, and attacked. They saw a figure rise up, and run back down the opposite side of the hill, with the Order in hot pursuit.

...

..

.

*CRACK!

Druella and the knights perked up. That sound again, the signature sound of their savior.

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK!

*CRACRACRACRACRACRACRACRA!

And then silence.

"Mistress... is there anything we can do?" A dark knight asked.

"Nothing. Whoever it is will have to fend for herself." Druella said.

The dark knights waited anxiously. There were no more loud cracks from the distant hill.

...

But then, when they thought all hope was lost, the dark knights were introduced to a new sound.

*BRAAAAAHHHH!

The Duster crested the hill and shot down the other side, the mopar 440 screaming in anger. The Order calvary was right behind him, waving their swords in the air and shooting arrows at him.

"YAAAAAAAH!" The dark knights cheered.

Michael's Duster roared across the battlefield. He was looking for a way out, a way to escape through the walls of Order conscripts. But he was quickly running out of options. They blocked him at every turn. The attack on the city waned while the Order focused their efforts on the new threat.

...

Meanwhile, the wild uncontrolled assault against Lescatie had failed, and the attackers had been wiped out. For the first time in a while, the city could breathe a sigh of relief. Workers frantically patched up the walls in a way they couldn't do before with the Order breathing down their necks. But this relief would come at the cost of Michael's life. Druella watched from the walls as that strange looking vehicle passed back and forth on the battlefield. The Order was boxing him in, and he had only one way out. So she made the flash decision.

"Open the gates!" Druella ordered.

The dark knights looked at Druella as if she had just shouted utter nonsense. But they didn't question her. They followed her commands, no matter what.

"OPEN THE GATES! QUICKLY! THE MISTRESS DECREES!" A dark knight cried.

Michael saw the gates on the city begin to open, and he turned the nose of the Duster towards his one avenue of escape. The Order also saw the gates open, and they too turned towards their new golden opportunity to destroy their hated foe.

*BRAAA BRAAA BRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Michael put the accelerator CLEAN through the firewall, and the Duster screamed with all the RPMs as it shot like an arrow for freedom. Five hundred horsepower verses five hundred individual horses. The Duster shot through the gates, and into safety.

...

The Order was right behind him. Before the inma could close the gates, a dozen riders managed to squeeze in between the closing doors.

"To arms! The Order has entered the city! To arms!" The dark knights cried.

Before the dark knights could do a single thing, Michael dove out of the Duster with his AK74 in hand. He rained hell down on those Order knights.

...

..

.

When the smoke cleared, there wasn't a single surviving Order knight left standing. All that was left was blood and dying horses. The dark knights, shocked by the loudness of the AK74, had their hands clapped over their ears.

*SHOVE!

Michael shoved past the dark knights on the stairs leading up to the wall, his rifle at the ready. He got to the very top, leaned over the edge of the wall, and started firing down at the Order knights who were beating on the gate. There were a thousand soldiers down there, trying to force their way in before the dark knights could reinforce the door again. It looked like they would beat it down before he could shoot enough of them, so Michael enacted plan B.

"EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Michael shouted.

He tossed a fragmentation grenade down over the wall, and then dove for cover. All the dark knights heeded his warning and also dove for cover.

*WHUMP!

The wall shook... and then there was silence.

...

Michael picked himself up and looked over the wall again. The Order was in full retreat. There was a brand new pile of two hundred bodies down there, all of them filled with shrapnel wounds. The grenade had devastated the tightly clustered soldiers.

*BANG!

Michael fired a single round, shooting one of the retreating soldiers in the back. He fell over, screaming like a stuck pig.

"Don't come back, or I'll kill every one of you bastards!" Michael shouted.

...

..

.

Michael turned, his rifle held at his side. He was greeted by a dozen sword and spear points at his throat.

"Oh!" Michael exclaimed in surprise.

The crowd began to murmur in a displeased fashion.

"It's a male."

"What's a male doing here?"

"I thought it was one of us."

...

"Put down your weapon!" A dark knight ordered.

"Okay ladies, just relax. We're all friends here." Michael said calmly.

He slowly bent down and laid his smoking AK on the ground. The sharp metal bits followed his every move.

"What is your name human?" A dark knight asked.

"Michael Collins." Michael answered.

The knights all glanced at each other, their expressions hard.

"You've probably never heard of me, but my wife..." Michael started to say.

"SILENCE! Thou shalt place your hands on your head!" The dark knight ordered.

...

~A Few Moments Later~

...

*THUD

Michael was forced to his knees down on street level, not more than a few dozen paces from the Duster.

"This one proclaims to be Michael Collins. Do you wish us to dispose of him like the last ones?"

"Dispose?!" Michael thought.

"Not yet. Let me see his face."

The sound of that voice was familiar in its sing song beauty. Someone grabbed Michael's hair and forced him to look upwards. It was at that very moment when he beheld the fourth princess for the first time in person.

"Whoa!" Michael murmured in awe.

Druella stood tall before him. Her beauty was unmatched by any other woman Michael had ever seen, even Sherry. She wore magical armor that reminded him very much of the armor Sherry had worn when she first arrived on Earth, but of much higher quality. Her bone white hair and wings were adorned with jewels that looked like demonic eyes. And her actual eyes were demonic in their own right. They were dark and mysterious, and induced a sensation of both fear and safety at the same time. She had the air of a powerful leader, and she demanded respect.

"What is your name?" Druella asked.

"Michael Collins." Michael repeated.

...

Her eyes seemed to peer into his very soul. There was no doubt in his mind that if he tried lying to her, she would know instantly.

"Mistress... his weapon." A dark knight said.

The knight offered Druella the AK74. She took it and closely inspected it.

"Hmmp."

She wasn't terribly impressed with the wood and steel construction of the AK. It was a simple and rugged tool, and not terribly elegant in any way. There was no magic to be found within its design. So she cast it aside, into the hands of one of her dark knights.

*NIIIROW!

She waved her hand over Michael's face, and he immediately went into a deep slumber. The knights seemed surprised by her mercy.

"I believe this one to be true." Druella said.

...

..

.

The Next Morning

.

..

...

The first thing Michael noticed when he awoke the next morning... was the fact he was still alive. Then he noticed that he was in a room with a smooth stone walls and ceiling, and he was laying on was seemed to be a primitive straw padded bed adorned with simple patchwork quilts. The headboard was roughly hand hewn, and none too fancy. Light streamed through a tiny vertical slit in the wall.

"You have told me much the last few moments, but none of it answers my question!" Druella said, annoyed.

Michael perked his ears up. Outside the door to his room was two voices. One was clearly Druella, and the other was unknown.

"I'm sorry mistress. Simply put, he doesn't have any booby traps upon him as far as we can tell. We did detect quite a large number of wards, which seem to be Order in origin. But they're created by demonic energy, and fueled by his own mana. We've never seen the like before." The other voice explained.

"I have. Continue." Druella said.

"He has very little demonic energy within him, yet he shows all the signs of several years worth of corruption. We don't know how to explain it. We found signs of wounds, such as burns and cuts. He also had a large bruise on the small of his back." The other voice said.

...

"Regarding his weapons. We found this one under his clothes. It seems to be a smaller version of the large one he was carrying. Perhaps a personal defense weapon, like a dagger?" The other voice reasoned.

...

"The weapons have no magic in them at all. They seem to be purely mechanical in function. The gremlins would love to get their hands on these. We found these long metal squares inside his pockets, and we believe they are needed for these weapons to function." The other voice said.

...

"Speaking of his pockets, we found these things. An ordinary handkerchief, some foreign coins of unknown design, some ordinary silver coins of our own design, what appears to be a key ring, and a pocket knife of unknown design. We've never heard of a blade smith by the name Victorinox, have you?" The other voice asked.

"No. What of this leather square?" Druella asked.

"Ah, this is where things get interesting. All of the things you see here were contained in the leather square. These strange green pieces of paper seem to be some form of money." The other voice said.

"This note is legal tender for all debts, public and private. One dollar." Druella read aloud.

"We saw that too mistress, which is why we believe this is money. There is a great deal of fascinating information to be gleaned from that simple note. The scholars would love to see one." The other voice said.

...

"Besides that, we found many other things. Perhaps the most important would be this strange square. An Arizona Driver License, whatever that is. It has his name upon it, what appears to be his address, and a fairth." The other voice explained.

...

"We also discovered this and this inside the leather square. They both contain his name and address. The first reads... United States of America, Department of Transportation, Federal Aviation Administration. The other says Amateur Radio License, with Amateur Extra privileges. We found something called a Concealed Weapons Permit, once again with his name on it. Why someone needs a permit to conceal a weapon, we don't know. Perhaps it's something to do with his kingdom's rules." The other voice said.

...

"What do you wish for us to do with him?" The other voice asked.

"I do not have time to deal with him properly at the moment. Once the knights have assembled, I plan to ride out and drive the Order from our land. Until then, he must be watched very closely." Druella ordered.

"Yes mistress. I shall see to it personally." The other voice said.

"His arrival is very suspicious. Searraigh should have known better than to send him here alone. While I do sense her mana permeating his aura, we cannot know for sure that the Order isn't tricking us somehow." Druella said.

"Not to mention the others they sent to us." The other voice said.

"Indeed. So watch him like an owl mage. Don't let him go anywhere that he could cause destruction. And find out as much about him as you can." Druella instructed.

"By your command mistress. Blessings on your campaign, my lady." The other voice said.

*Click...click...click

Michael heard the distinctive sound of high heels walking away.

...

*Creaaaaaak

The door to Michael's room swung open, and a figure entered the room.

"I see you're already awake. How interesting." The other voice said.

Michael closely observed the person who was addressing him. It was a strangely dressed little girl, who had a voice that sounded closer to an adult. Maybe not in pitch, but definitely in tone of voice and language. It was hardly what he expected, having heard the conversation in the next room. She walked in and sat down on a chair.

"What the frack?" Michael muttered.

The girl tilted her head and gave Michael a better look at her crooked pointed hat.

"Oh you're a witch. Now I get it. Hi, my name is..." Michael tried to say.

"Michael. Nice to meet you, big brother!" The witch said cheerfully.

Several silent moments passed awkwardly.

"So what's your name?" Michael asked.

"Druella, fourth princess of the demon realm." The witch said, grinning.

"Hartey har har har. Seriously, what's your name?" Michael asked.

"Michael Collins." The witch said, grinning even more.

"You're not going to tell me you name?" Michael asked.

The little witch hopped off her chair and made for the door. She had left a crooked wooden staff on the other side of the door, which she retrieved.

"I'm sure not. But I shall reward you if you guess it, and it will be a real swell reward big brother." The witch said.

"Fine. So when can I leave?" Michael asked.

The little witch gestured in a sweeping motion towards the open door.

"Any time you wish. But I'm sure you overheard our little conversation, so you know that I must accompany you whilst you visit us." The witch asked.

She waited expectantly by the door, but Michael made no move to get up.

"Well? Don't you wish to come outside and play with us, big brother? There's all kinds of fun and exciting games we could play~" The witch asked.

"She looks just like a twelve year old, but she talks like an adult half the time. It's kind of creepy." Michael thought.

...

"I would follow you, but it seems someone took my clothes." Michael said dryly.

"Oh~ I wonder who could have done that~" The witch giggled.

"I don't mind, but I would like them back please." Michael said politely.

The witch tilted her head.

"You don't mind? Well now... that's novel." The witch said.

*SNAP

Michael's clothes appeared on his body at the snap of her fingers, as if they had never been taken off in the first place.

...

Michael looked down at himself, and then back up to the witch.

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

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael and the little witch found their way out of that room and into a larger well lit room. It was there that Michael saw all his pocket stuff laid out on a table.

"You may take your things big brother." The witch said.

Michael re-stuffed his wallet with all his cards, and then took his keys and other odds and sods. His Beretta and AK, as well as his pocket knife and body armor, were all locked inside a cabinet with a glass window. And not only that, they had his M24E1, his LAW tube, and all his grenades. Clearly they had searched his Duster, and taken every last one of his weapons.

"I take it you're not going to let me have ALL my stuff back, right?" Michael asked.

"You won't need any weapons while you're here big brother." The witch said evenly.

"What about my body armor?" Michael asked.

"You won't need that either. You're safe here." The witch said.

None the less, Michael went over to the cabinet and reached for the handle.

*SHIIIIING

A sword appeared at his throat. To his left was a lizardman with a hard expression on her face.

"So much for being safe here." Michael thought.

...

"Captain of the guard, there is no need for that. The glass is warded. He couldn't get at them even if he tried." The witch admonished.

Neither the guard captain or Michael moved an inch.

...

Michael formed an evil grin.

"Be very careful what you do with that glorified pig sticker you overgrown iguana, or you're going to find it shoved so far up your pussy, you'll taste demon realm silver." Michael shot.

"I'd like to see you try human." The guard captain said, grinning equally ferociously.

"I could whup my wife, and I could whup you." Michael shot.

"And who is your wife? The milk maid?" The guard captain mocked.

"His wife is Searraigh Fontaine." The witch said.

The guard captain's face was first filled with surprise, then it shifted between all sorts of complicated emotions.

"...Get out." The guard captain said.

Michael hesitated a moment. She raised her sword.

"Get out! You'll get your weapons when and ONLY when Druella decrees it!" The guard captain barked.

...

~A Few Moments Later~

...

*SLAM!

Michael jumped as the guard house door was slammed behind him.

"Did I do something to piss her off?" Michael asked.

"Well... I shall give you positive marks for knowing how to speak to a lizardman, but unfortunately she seems to have been offended by the name of your wife." The witch said.

"But why? Sherry never told me she had enemies in Lescatie." Michael said.

The witch tilted her head.

"Sherry?" The witch questioned.

"Yeah uh... that's what I call my wife." Michael said.

"Ohhh... I understand." The witch said, nodding.

She bobbed her head a few times.

"I wouldn't say she has enemies, it's just that many still have wounds from the time when Searraigh was still human." The witch said.

"What did she do?!" Michael exclaimed.

...

"Perhaps you should ask her, and not a stranger." The witch suggested.

And with that, the little witch clammed up. Michael considered pressing the matter, but he decided discretion was the better part of valor.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael and the witch walked up to the Duster, which was still exactly where he had parked it. There was a crowd of people surrounding it.

"Make way! Make way or the big bad big brother will eat you!" The witch cried.

All the monster girls in the area went AWW and giggled, making room for Michael. One of them commented to another quietly.

"I wouldn't mind him eating me out... if he were good at it." An inma murmured.

Michael heard of course, but he didn't say anything about it.

...

"Here you go, you can sit on the hood." Michael said.

He picked the little witch up and placed her back down on the hood.

"Thanks big brother~" The witch said cheerfully.

And with that, Michael rounded his car and inspected it for damage. As one might expect, there was quite a bit.

"Dented quarter panel, bashed grille, crack in the windshield, oh... and a flat tire! Lovely!" Michael griped.

Grumbling, Michael pulled out his keys and went for the trunk. When he returned, he was carrying the spare tire.

"What are you doing big brother?" The witch asked.

"Changing the tire. Some asshat shot an arrow into this one." Michael explained.

"Rude... aren't they?" The witch commented.

"Very." Michael agreed.

"But you certainly had no problem dealing with them. I've never seen a lone man kill a holy ordained hero! Much less several of them!" The witch exclaimed in awe.

"I don't want to talk about it." Michael deflected immediately.

The look on Michael's face said it all. He felt immense pain just thinking about it. While he had willingly done the deed and fought in the battle, that didn't mean he liked it.

...

"So... tell me. Have you been a mage for a long time? Typically humans show their age easily, and you don't seem very old." The witch asked.

"I'm not a mage." Michael said flatly.

*CREAK

He cranked his tire iron on a lug nut, which creaked in protest.

"Then how did you contact our world? If you're not a mage..." The witch started to ask.

"Magic coin." Michael interrupted.

"Ah~ Now everything is starting to make sense." The witch said, nodding.

...

"The fakes they sent were all powerful mages, whereas you have no power to speak of." The witch said casually.

It took Michael a couple of seconds to comprehend what she just said.

"Wait what? Fakes... of ME?!" Michael exclaimed, pointing at himself.

"I'm afraid so. The Order received your magic message the same as we did, and they sought to use it against us. They sent copies of you to all the major cities." The witch explained.

"What happened!?" Michael asked.

"When the fake arrived here and assumed your name, we welcomed him with open arms. There was a feast, and a celebration. We treated him like a great king from another realm. And little did we know that while he had free reign to wander the city, he was gathering information about our strength and knight deployments." The witch explained at length.

...

"Of course we asked.. where is Searraigh? He always told us 'oh she'll be along soon. She's just over in the city of Pran taking care of business'. By the time we became suspicious, it was too late. He had already told the Order that the majority of our knights were afield, and how all our wards worked." The witch explained.

"What happened to him?" Michael asked.

"When we came to arrest him, he laughed like a maniac and detonated a bomb. We never did get the chance to question him." The witch explained.

...

..

.

"Which brings me to the next obvious question. Where is Searraigh?" The witch asked.

Michael froze stiff.

"Well?" The witch pressed.

"You're not going to like my answer." Michael said hesitantly.

The witch's face turned grim. Michael sighed.

"Alright... let me try to explain." Michael started.

"You had better make it good, or you won't like what I do with this staff. Little brother." The witch warned.

Michael winced. He didn't like the sound of that not-so-subtle threat.

...

"We opened the portal the other day, barely. It took everything we had... it even nearly killed us! We were going to wait a day for the portal to stabilize, but we were attacked." Michael explained.

"Go on." The witch said, unconvinced.

"Well, I got knocked into the portal by accident. I don't know how close I came to ending up in the void, but I'm sure it was close." Michael said.

The witch turned pale. She obviously knew something he didn't, and probably shouldn't know.

...

"One of the people who attacked us followed me through the portal, and I shot him. Then I hopped into my car here, and got the hell out of there. I have no idea if anyone else survived." Michael explained.

...

..

.

Michael explained everything that happened during his adventure. How he had no food, and failed at scavenging. How he found that farmhouse with the poisoned food, and how he buried the victims. How he drove for days, hoping to get to Lescatie before going into a coma.

"I have a medical condition. If I don't eat regularly, I slowly go into a coma and die. That's why I pushed so hard to get here. And the only reason why I made it this far is because I found a prisoner fruit bush with a few fruit on it. But that ran out a while ago." Michael explained.

"I see. Very well, I shall believe you. For now." The witch said.

...

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there is no food in this city." The witch said.

Michael felt his heart hiccup.

"Come again?" Michael asked nervously.

"We have been under siege for quite a while now. The news got passed around a week ago that the last of the supplies have dried up. We ourselves are starving." The witch said.

...

"There are very few humans left in this city, nearly all are incubi, so it hasn't been a problem. But..." The witch started to say.

"But none of the humans who live here have a potentially fatal medical problem like I do." Michael said.

...

..

.

"I never should have come here. I should have stayed at that damn portal! What was I thinking?!" Michael exclaimed.

His head clunked against the quarter panel of the Duster.

"If it means anything to you, I believe it was fate to bring you here. We would likely be dead right now if you hadn't have been in just the right place, in just the right time." The witch said softly.

.

..

...

Michael straightened, and began working on changing his tire in earnest.

"Big brother?" The witch asked.

"After I get this tire changed, I'm going to make a run for it. There's got to be food out there... somewhere." Michael said, resolutely.

"But that's madness! You should stay here until the invasion is over!" The witch exclaimed.

"I don't have that long! I'm already feeling it! I haven't got more than a few hours, and then I'll be dying or dead!" Michael said.

"But the Order knows what you did to them! They'll hunt you!" The witch exclaimed.

"I'll outrun them. There's no way they can keep up with this baby." Michael said.

He patted the quarter panel as he spoke. The witch hopped off the hood and rounded the car, her staff in hand. She waved it through the air a couple of times.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

The spare tire disappeared in a flash of crimson.

"HEY!" Michael protested.

"I'm sorry big brother, but I can't let you leave this city." The witch said firmly.

"But I don't know ANYTHING about your freaking defenses! I just got here!" Michael protested.

"Hah... as if that matters anymore." The witch said, smiling ironically.

"Then what?" Michael demanded.

...

*TAP

She tapped him lightly on the forehead with her staff.

"There we go. A good luck charm. Now you're certain to have only good luck in this city. Come with me, and we'll try to find something edible." The witch said softly.

"But you just said..." Michael started.

"I know what I just said. But should we just give up? No!" The witch exclaimed.

She held her hand out, and Michael took it.

...

..

.

That little witch ended up dragging him all over the place for the next hour or so. Mostly door to door in the residential quarter, where they asked to buy food from the locals. Most people had nothing, and a very select few had something but they wouldn't sell. But finally they did find a kindly Alraune who offered them some food.

"My husband just turned into an incubus the other day, so we don't need our ration anymore. You can have it." The alraune said.

A pair of thorny vines appeared, which held a loaf of bread and some sweet pastries in a wicker basket. Michael pulled out his sack of coins to pay the woman, but she declined.

"It's okay. I sense that you're very hungry, so I won't charge you. I would offer you some of my nectar as well, but I donated that to another couple this morning." The alraune said.

"That's alright. This is plenty! Thank you so much!" Michael said enthusiastically.

They bade each other farewell, and the door closed.

"See big brother? I told you that you'd find something! Come now, let's go sit down somewhere so you can get some food in that protesting belly of yours!" The witch said cheerfully.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry... I'm not thinking right." Michael said.

"It's because you're hungry, right? Your head is all foggy? I've heard that some big brothers get like that. I heard it's very unpleasant." The witch said.

"Yeah." Michael agreed.

...

The two of them found a quiet spot out of the way of everyone, and Michael sank to the ground.

"This aughta last me for a few days if I ration it carefully!" Michael said cheerfully.

*Bzzzzzt

*BZZZZT

*BZZZZZZZZZZT!

*SNATCH!

The wicker basket, and all his precious food, was snatched right out of his hands by a blur flying by at mach 1.

"Aw heck!" The witch exclaimed.

Michael was wide eyed, on the verge of crying, as he stared as his suddenly empty hands.

"That did NOT just happen!" Michael exclaimed.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

Michael and the witch rounded the corner of a building, where they heard a familiar buzzing sound. What they found shocked Michael to the core.

"Thief! What do you think you're doing?!" The witch exclaimed.

There was a gang of Beelzebubs tearing the basket apart, hungrily devouring Michael's precious food.

"Uh oh, they caught up. Time to fly!" The beezelbubs all said.

*BBBBBBZZZZZTTT!

And they all scattered. All but one, who was blocked from flying away by a quick spell from the witch. They cornered her.

"How could you?! How could you steal food from a hungry human?! You darned flies, how could you stoop so low?!" The witch exclaimed.

The fly perked up in interest.

"Human? Ooh!" The fly exclaimed.

*THUD!

Michael found himself pinned against a wall by that petite fly, with her face shoved into the nape of his neck.

"Smells divine. Thanks for the tasty treat~" The fly said, smacking her lips.

*BONK!

The witch clobbered the fly on the head with her staff.

"Ooowie!" The fly cried, sobbing.

"You stop it this instant! Behave, or I'll curse you with a locust curse!" The witch warned.

"No! Not the locust curse!" The fly exclaimed.

"What's a locust curse?" Michael asked.

"It curses the victim to forever have a lean table until the curse is lifted." The witch explained.

Michael nodded in understanding. That would indeed be an effective threat for a beelzebub.

"Do you know what you've done by stealing this man's food? He could die!" The witch exclaimed.

The fly immediately turned and looked at Michael's haggard face.

"Die?" The fly asked.

"Yeah. If I don't eat something soon, I'll die." Michael said.

...

"So eat something." The fly said simply.

*BONK!

"Ooooooowie!" The fly sobbed.

"Idiot! What do you think we were trying to do! We've looked all over for food! There is none!" The witch exclaimed.

"There's food. I know where." The fly said knowingly.

"Take us there this instant! We have no time to waste!" The witch exclaimed.

The fly nodded, and took Michael's hand.

"And no tricks, or you'll get a DOUBLE locust curse!" The witch warned.

"...not lying. I know where there's food. Come! I'll make it right!" The fly insisted.

...

~A Short While Later~

...

Michael, the witch, and the fly all found themselves standing in front of a tavern on the south side of the city. A quaint looking place, and it had quite a few people inside. They could tell from the drunken singing.

"This place has lots of food." The fly said.

"Then why don't you just eat here, and leave people like us alone?" Michael shot, annoyed.

"Because they banned us when we ate too much at the buffet and wouldn't pay extra." The fly explained.

"Be gone you cheapskate! Scat!" The witch exclaimed.

*BZZZZZZTtttttt

And just like that, the fly was gone. The witch crossed her arms.

"I'll likely have to hunt her down later and curse her. The taverns have been out of food for a long time." The witch said.

"Well, we're here. So let's at least try." Michael suggested.

"Sure, but I should probably warn you about... hey... HEY wait a moment!" The witch tried to say.

Michael stepped through the tavern doors with a smile on his face... which immediately faded. Every set of eyes in the entire tavern turned towards him. All talking ceased. Even the music ceased. Some of the patrons, who happened to be very large and mean looking inma, began to rise up out of their seats.

*THUD!

A normal humanoid looking woman jumped to her feet faster than the others while pounding her fists on the table.

"DIBS!" The woman cried.

"Oh shit." Michael muttered under his breath.

Just as he began to turn to walk out, the woman disappeared in a puff of smoke. She reappeared and grabbed him, just as he faced the door.

"Wait a minute dahling, don't leave~ You just got here~" The woman sang.

"GAH!" Michael cried.

*THUD

The two of them hit the floor, and the woman jabbed her tongue in his mouth. He resisted her kiss at first, but there was some sort of power behind her kiss. He fell under a spell, and found himself riding away on a cloud of ecstasy.

*Pwah~

When she broke the kiss, it took Michael quite a few ticks of the clock before he realized what just happened. The witch stood over them, beaming a smile down at the two of them.

"Michael, meet Christine. She's a Dhampir." The witch said.

"A pleasure dahling~" Christine said seductively.

...

..

.

Michael ended up at her table, although he wasn't entirely sure how. His foggy mind probably played some part in that. He even ended up sitting directly next to Christine, and he didn't feel comfortable getting up and moving to another seat. It would have been rude. He glanced sideways at his new companion, sizing her up.

"She's... really pretty." Michael thought.

Christine was a blonde haired beauty, with a fit body with just the right amount of curves to make a man's heart flip. While she didn't have the exaggerated curves Sherry had, she wore them in a way that almost made Michael want to convert away from the thicc crowd to the lithe crowd. Her face had a bright smile, chiseled nose, slate grey eyes, and rosy cheeks. She stood at around five foot four, without her thick soled traveling boots. A rapier hung from her belt.

...

The witch told Christine the short and narrow of Michael's food problem, which prompted the dhampir to flag down the waitress.

"Bring out the special! And put it on my tab!" Christine cried.

"Oui! Right away~" The waitress said cheerfully, with a lovely french accent.

Michael was taken aback by her generosity.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say." Michael said, smiling.

"Oh I could think of a few things, but maybe we'll discuss it later dahling." Christine said.

...

"Hey Christine, why didn't you ever tell me you came here? Why didn't you invite me?" The witch asked.

"Because you don't drink. You're too small." Christine said.

"Well I can't argue that. Anyways, I'm glad you're here. Big brother here nearly had quite the first experience with a hookup bar." The witch said.

"Hookup bar?" Michael asked.

Before the witch could answer his query, the waitress came back and planted herself in front of Michael.

" What would you like to drink monsieur?" The waitress asked.

"What do you have?" Michael asked.

"Unfortunately, we are completely out of wine. But we have plenty of mead, brandy, and whiskey." The waitress said.

"What do you two want?" Michael asked.

"Water for me. As Christine said, I'm too small to drink." The witch said, winking.

"Whiskey!" Christine cheered.

...

"I don't want to get drunk... so I had better order something I can handle." Michael thought.

...

"I'll go with some mead." Michael said.

"Right away monsieur." The waitress said cheerfully.

And once again, the waitress took off.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

The waitress came out with a big tray, which she laid out on their table. On the tray was a wooden plate, which had the most beautiful steak Michael had ever seen in his life. Much to his utter joy, it was all his. He wasn't required to share.

"Well, you'd better eat up! Don't waste another second! I can see just how miserable you are. It's written all over your face." The witch said.

He grabbed a fork and knife, and sliced into the steak. He didn't even know what it was, and he didn't care. He just took a massive bite.

*CHOMP

The meat was like pure decadence, exploding in his mouth with flavor and texture. It was just the perfect amount of fat and meat, with just the perfect amount of seasonings, to firmly take the trophy as the best steak he had ever eaten.

"What the hell is this?! It's freaking delicious!" Michael exclaimed.

"Haven't you ever had demon realm boar before?" Christine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No! How the hell have I lived this long without having something this good!?" Michael exclaimed.

And then he attacked that plate, tearing into that food with an inhuman hunger.

"Where'd the owner get demon realm boar? I thought everyone was out of food." The witch asked.

"Well, the tavern owners association came to an agreement to keep the hookup bars open. After all, they didn't want morale to plummet so utterly low that the knights would start grumbling." Christine explained.

The witch nodded in agreement. Christine focused her eyes on Michael, and watched him devour that steak for a while.

...

"You know dahling, you're awfully handsome." Christine said, winking.

"I uh... thanks? You're pretty too." Michael said, uncertain.

"Your face just turned bright red. Do you want her to do it again?" The witch asked.

"Do what?" Michael asked, flustered.

"Oh you know... k.i.s.s.i.n.g.~" The witch sang.

The two women giggled, and Michael remained silent. He felt it was incredibly important to remain silent, at all costs.

"I'm not thinking right. My blood sugar is all out of whack, and I'm in this crazy situation. I'm keeping my fat mouth shut until I can think straight again." Michael thought.

So that's exactly what he did. He kept his mouth shut (other than to scarf down that food), to keep from offending his only two friends at the moment. And as he ate, he saw the stares of the other patrons of the tavern. They leered at him openly, without shame.

"I wonder why they're staring. Is it my clothes? Or is it because I'm the only guy in the room?" Michael thought.

...

"No reaction from my joke, hmm? You don't need to look so nervous." The witch asked.

"I uh..." Michael stammered.

"Haven't you ever been hit on by a woman in a tavern before?" Christine asked.

Michael shook his head side to side.

"Well that explains it. You're supposed to enjoy it dahling. But then again, you probably grew up in one of those awful Order towns where they don't allow things like that." Christine said.

Her hand slipped around his arm, where she very slowly caressed his muscles with her very soft fingers. He didn't react at all.

"Or maybe you aren't from Order territory." Christine remarked, surprised.

Eyes flicked from across the room towards Michael, their owners having overheard Christine's comment. While none of those women would have any problem hooking up with an Order man, they all preferred men from outside the Order. The reason was simple enough. No woman likes being cursed at or spurned, and neutral territory men were less likely to act that way.

...

So to test the limits, Christine kept squeezing his arm. Her fingers slowly crept up his t-shirt sleeve.

"Aren't you going to scream or push me away human? Isn't that what men always do to monsters?" Christine asked.

"My wife does way worse. At this point, this is downright formal." Michael said casually.

Michael furrowed his eyebrows. That hadn't quite come out how he intended.

"I don't mind a little touching." Michael said.

The crowd sat up and took notice.

"Wait! That came out wrong!" Michael thought.

"Careful, I might touch you back." Michael said.

"What the hell am I saying!?" Michael thought.

Across the table, a devilish grin formed on the lips of the mage as she casually rocked her staff through the air back and forth in a lazy circular pattern.

"I like honest big brothers." The witch said casually.

She continued rocking her staff around, chuckling to herself.

"Oh shit! I really am up shit creek this time!" Michael thought.

...

Christine slid up closer and closer to Michael, until her lithe but wonderfully soft body pressed up against his flank.

"Michael dahling, why don't we go on a date? We could get to know each other a little better. I bet you'd like me. I already like you." Christine whispered into his ear.

"You should take her up on it big brother. Christine really is a nice girl." The witch suggested.

Michael's eyebrows furrowed as his brain twisted in confusion. Half of him wanted to say yes, but the other half wanted to say no because of his marriage to Sherry. It was a struggle as his brain tried to decide which was the more honest answer.

...

"No." Michael said.

The word ~no~ seemed to cause a ripple in the crowd in that tavern. Michael spotted several people start to move, as if they were going to get up. Christine seemed worried, and she whispered in his ear.

"But why dahling? Don't you think I'm pretty?" Christine asked, whispering.

"I'm married." Michael said.

"That doesn't matter dahling. I'm sure I could convince her if I talked to her, whoever it is. Please? Say yes!" Christine pressed.

"No." Michael said firmly.

...

She whispered in his ear again, her tone of voice very urgent.

"Unless you want to end up with someone else in this tavern, you had better say yes. It's against the rules for a man to walk out of here alone." Christine warned quietly.

The full implications of what situation Michael was in finally came crashing home. Across the tavern was a table with three manticores... and they slowly began to rise to their feet.

"Alright girly, you had your chance! Now's our turn! And we ain't taking no for an answer!" The manticore trio said.

Christine wasn't giving up yet. She pleaded into his ear, begging him to change his mind.

"Please dahling, just date me for one day. We don't have to do anything, I'm just lonely! Please say yes! You won't regret it!" Christine pleaded frantically.

Michael looked towards the three manticores heading their way, their venomous tails bobbing in the air behind them. It sent a shiver down his spine. He said the only thing any sane man would say.

"Okay, I'll date you!" Michael blurted.

...

..

.

"Fuck." The manticore trio spat.

Grumbling, the three manticores went back to their table and their drinks.

"Thank you dahling! You won't regret it! I promise! You really won't!" Christine cheered.

Michael rubbed his forehead.

"What the hell did I just get myself into?" Michael thought.

...

~A While Later~

...

Michael, Christine, and the witch all walked out of the tavern together. Christine ~still~ had her arm wrapped around Michael's arm.

"Well now! I told you that you'd have good luck big brother! Not only did you get a wonderful meal, but you also found a nice lady to keep you company!" The witch said cheerfully.

"Yeah..." Michael said, uncertain.

"So dahling, who's your wife? Maybe I know her." Christine asked.

"He's married to Searraigh Fontaine, a dark hero who serves Druella." The witch said.

"I don't know her. But a dark hero? She must be very powerful. How come you don't have much D.E. in your aura?" Christine asked.

"It's a long story. Simply put, it took a lot of energy to open the portal from my world." Michael said quietly.

Christine skidded to a stop, yanking on Michael's arm in the process.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked.

"What world?! What are you talking about?!" Christine asked, surprised.

"Come with us and we'll show you." The witch said.

...

..

.

A few minutes later, they ended up back at the Duster. From the first moment Christine beheld it, her eyes were filled with wonder.

"What is that thing!?" Christine asked.

"That is a 1971 Plymouth Duster." Michael said proudly.

"I have absolutely no idea what that means." Christine said distantly.

Michael walked over and settled down next to the flat tire, and checked all his tools. Nothing had been disturbed.

"Can I have my spare tire back now?" Michael asked.

"Sure. Why not." The witch said, shrugging.

*POOF!

The tire appeared next to him in a flash of crimson.

"Thanks." Michael said.

Christine was all over the Duster, looking at everything in curiosity.

"How is it that you have such deep black paint?" Christine asked.

"Huh?" Michael asked.

"The paint, the paint! How is it so black?" Christine asked excitedly.

"Paint like this is unusual here." The witch noted.

...

..

.

A few moments later, after digging around in the cab, Michael produced a rattlecan of glossy black paint. It was the paint he kept around for touching up defects on his car, so it was the exact same kind of black.

"Here you go. Knock yourself out. Just keep it away from the paint on my car." Michael said.

And with that, he went back to changing his tire while Christine and the witch both ogled the can of paint. It didn't take long before they wound up spray painting a cock and balls on someone's wall.

.

..

...

*CREEEEAK

Michael jacked up the car, making both the girls startle in surprise.

"How are you so strong?! You're just human!" Christine exclaimed.

Michael let the handle of the bottlejack go, leaving the car suspended. The witch squeaked.

"You ARE a mage! How are you hiding your power?!" The witch exclaimed, raising her staff.

"Whoa ladies! Whoa! Calm down! Let me explain!" Michael exclaimed, raising his hands peacefully.

...

Michael took a few minutes to explain the concept of a bottle jack, including a crash course on the principle of leverage and hydraulics. By the time he was done, their eyes were thoroughly glazed over.

...

"You're really smart." Christine noted in admiration.

"Thanks I guess. I'm nothing special though." Michael said, uncertain.

...

..

.

Several awkward moments passed. An idea popped into his head to try to alleviate some of the tension.

"So uh... want to listen to some music?" Michael asked.

"Music?" Both Christine and the witch asked, confused.

Michael opened the passenger door and leaned in, and turned on the radio. He didn't bother thinking about the fact that neither of those two girls had ever heard pre-recorded music before. The sound of Sugarloaf's 'Don't Call Us, We'll Call You' beat out of the speakers, all while Michael worked on his flat tire.

"What magic is this?!" The witch muttered, wide eyed.

"That's the magic of the cassette tape baby~" Michael sang.

He bobbed his head in time with the beat as he pulled the flat tire off and lined up the new one with the lugs.

"Don't call us~ We'll call you~" Michael sang.

People began to gather around the car, being drawn in by the otherworldly sound of music playing. Michael kept singing along.

~I got your name from a friend of a friend
Who said he used to work with you
Remember the all night creature from Stereo Ninety Two
Yeah, I said, "Could you relate to our quarter track tape
You know the band performs in the nude"
He said, "Uh huh don't call us child, we'll call you"~

"He can sing!"

"The human can sing!"

"He's really good~!"

The crowd murmured to themselves. Michael paused, smiling towards the crowd. It made him feel good hearing their complements.

"Sing some more human!" The crowd encouraged.

~Anyway we cut a hit and we toured a bit
With a song he said he couldn't use
And now he calls and begs and crawls, it's telephone Deja Vu
We got percentage points and lousy joints
And all the glitter we can use
Mama so uh huh, don't call us, now we'll call you

Listen kid, you paid for the call
You ain't bad but I've heard it all before
Don't call us, we'll call you~

The song finished, and he poked his head into the car and shut off the stereo before another song would start.

"That's all folks. I have to finish swapping this tire so I can move the car out of everyone's way." Michael said.

And with that, he was able to finish swapping out the popped tire.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

*Sliiiide

Michael slid into the driver seat of the Duster. Leaning over, he pushed the passenger door open again. Christine and the witch peeked inside.

"What do you think?" Michael asked proudly.

"It's pretty. But you haven't said what this thing does yet, other than have pretty black paint and be able to play music." Christine said.

"Well now~... I'll show you~" Michael chuckled.

*pumppumppump

He pumped the gas pedal three times, made sure it was in neutral, and then turned the key.

*WhirrwhirrBRAAAAAA!

Christine jerked violently as that 440 mopar roared to life. It surprised her of course, being that she had never seen a car before. But that surprise soon turned into wonder and amazement, and a big smile formed on her face.

"It doesn't matter what dimension you're in, chicks totally dig hotrods." Michael thought.

Even more people began to gather around the idling mopar, drawn there by the otherworldly sound of mopar power. It was quite the crowd by them. Some of them were just the city folk, and some of them were armed dark knights drawn by the sound of a potential enemy.

"Hey you! Yeah you, the lamia with the red hair! Yeah! Is there somewhere I can park this thing and get it out of everyone's way?" Michael called over the engine idling.

The lamia in question, a dark knight, pointed towards the area between the wall and the buildings. Essentially an alleyway with very few people going through it.

"Okay! Thanks!" Michael cried.

The lamia waved an acknowledgement at him, and then proceeded to move the onlookers out of the way. Michael had Christine close the passenger door, and he moved and re-parked the Duster.

...

..

.

After Michael had moved the Duster to a more long-term parking spot, he sighed and let the engine sputter silent. Christine opened the passenger door on her own.

"Oh hey, you figured out the door handle." Michael noted, smiling.

"Well, I wanted to sit by my boyfriend for the day." Christine said, smiling.

She settled down in the passenger seat... then let out a small squeak. Reaching behind her, she produced a two way radio.

"What's this dahling? I found it under my bum." Christine asked.

The witch immediately frowned as she looked at the black box with antenna that Christine was holding.

"Is that a weapon?" The witch asked dangerously.

Michael chuckled.

"No, that's not a weapon. Unless you throw it at someone I suppose. That's my radio." Michael quipped.

"What's a radio?" Christine asked.

"It's uh... well it's a thing that lets you talk to people from a distance." Michael said.

"WHAT?!" Both girls exclaimed.

Michael jerked at their shout.

"It lets you talk to people at a distance." Michael repeated.

Christine immediately tried handing it to him.

"Then use it! Warn people about what's happening here!" Christine exclaimed.

"Hurry up you fool! Why didn't you tell us you had such a tool at your disposal?! We've been trying to call for help for weeks!" The witch exclaimed.

Michael pushed the radio back, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry but that's not how it works. The range isn't more than a few miles, and there would have to be another radio on the other end for anyone to hear. I'm sorry to get your hopes up." Michael said.

"Oh..." The witch and Christine said, dejected.

...

..

"Well... could you try anyways? Maybe that luck spell I cast is still in effect." The witch suggested.

"I could try, it wouldn't hurt. But I don't think it'll do anything. And I need to be careful I don't run the battery down." Michael said.

So he took the radio and clicked it on.

"So the way this thing works is, you push this button here and talk. And when you want to listen, you let the button go and wait for the other person to press their button and start talking." Michael explained.

...

*Clickclick

"CQ CQ this is White Rook. Is anyone monitoring this frequency?" Michael said into the radio.

...

"I don't hear anything." Christine said.

"That's because there's probably nobody around that can answer. I'll try again." Michael said.

*Clickclick

"CQ CQ this is White Rook. Is anyone monitoring? This is White Rook calling CQ and standing by." Michael said into the radio.

"What does CQ mean?" The witch asked.

"It means that I'm calling anyone who is available. Sort of like a general... hey is anyone listening?" Michael explained.

"Yoo hoo?" Christine asked.

"Yeah... basically it means yoo hoo." Michael said, chuckling.

*ZRRCHT!

The radio let out a loud hiss.

"Radio check. We've got the high gainer set up, headless horseman." The radio said.

Michael jerked in surprise.

"Holy shit! That's my guys!" Michael cried.

...

"Headless horseman! Headless horseman! This is white rook! Come in please!" Michael cried into the radio.

Nothing. Michael looked around himself, and realized he was in a bad spot to be transmitting from. He was in a metal box (the Duster), sitting low to the ground, surrounded by stone buildings, and a stone wall.

"Shit! Follow me, before they sign off!" Michael cried.

He jumped out of the car and ran at top speed for the stairs that lead to the top of the wall. The witch and Christine were right behind him. He got to the top, jumped up on the edge of the wall, held the radio as high as he could, and started transmitting.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

*Hiiiiisssssss

"...this is White Rook. Does anyone read me? Over!" The radio hissed.

The radioman immediately pounced on the radio, grabbing the mic and enthusiastically answered Michael's distant signal.

"White rook, this is Headless horseman tertiary! Your signal is incredibly weak! Where is your location?!" The radioman said into the mic.

The whole convoy came to a dead halt, and Stavish crawled through the mrap from the front seat to the back seat where the radio was. Sherry looked like she was about to explode from anticipation.

"...located at the...you're weak too... sporadic E propagation... need help..." The radio hissed.

The signal completely faded out for a heart wrenching half a minute, before it came back stronger than ever.

"Did you get that headless horseman?" The radio said.

Stavish took the mic away from the radio operator.

"Sir, this is Stavish. Where are you? I repeat, where are you? Please repeat your location!" Stavish said into the radio.

"I'm in the city of Lescatie. I repeat, Lescatie! *Hissss...catie! Les...*hisssss.. ie. How copy?" The radio said.

"Oh thank the maoyu! He's somewhere safe!" Sherry exclaimed, slumping in relief.

...

"We copy you sir. Confirm, Lescatie. What is your situation?" Stavish asked on the radio.

"The city is under attack by *hisssss... of Order. Estimate there's at least ten...*hissssss... or possibly 25 thousand. I need immediate backup...*hissssss... the Order. I repeat, I need immediate *hiiiiiissssssssssssss..." The radio hissed.

"That's impossible! There's no way the Order could get that large an army anywhere near Lescatie!" Sherry exclaimed.

...

"*hiiiiiissssss confirm! Losing the sporadic E... *hissssssssssss... need help! *hiiiissssssssssssssssssssssss" The radio hissed.

"Confirmed white rook! We're on our way!" Stavish cried into the radio.

...

The radio made no further noises, other than static.

...

"White rook? White rook come in. Are you still there white rook?" Stavish said on the radio.

*Static

...

Stavish turned towards Sherry, and Sherry nodded.

"Now that I know where he is, I can take you right to him. The rest I leave to you." Sherry said firmly.

"Understood." Stavish said firmly.

She raised the mic to her mouth once again.

"Net call net call. Alright everyone. You probably heard everything, so I'm gonna cut the crap. We're going to war. Bravo team... gear up, fuel up, and get on the road. We're going to Lescatie." Stavish said on the radio.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

*Hiissssssss

Michael lowered his radio, sighing.

"That's it. They're gone." Michael said.

"But did they get the message? Is help coming?" The witch asked.

"Yeah they got it. She confirmed it. Help's on the way." Michael said.

"Thank goodness. Then maybe we might be free of this awful fighting." Christine said casually.

"Awful fighting? That's all you have to say about it!?" Michael shot angrily.

Both the witch and Christine looked at him in surprise.

"Did I offend you? I'm sorry." Christine said apologetically.

"Hmmp." Michael scoffed.

He walked past her, plodding down the stairs.

...

"What did I say wrong?" Christine asked quietly.

"He killed a large number of Order yesterday... single handedly. That memory no doubt lingers." The witch said quietly.

Christine's face turned sour.

"Are we so threatened that we have men fighting now? Is this what the world has come to?" Christine asked angrily.

"...I think... our children will be the next to fight before this is all over. Unless something changes... and soon. And I don't mean people who just look like children, I mean real children." The witch said quietly.

The witch looked downwards from the wall, seeing Michael crawl into his car.

"And he may be just that thing." The witch thought.

...

..

*FWOOOSH!

Both the witch and Christine turned and looked out towards the darkening landscape. A magical flare shot into the sky, and was soon deflected and forced back down to the ground.

"Mistress Druella calls for aid. Her campaign goes poorly." The witch said distantly.

"What do we do?" Christine asked.

The witch turned towards the guard building, which already had the guard captain coming out.

"What is the news?" The guard captain called.

"Druella calls for aid!" The witch shouted.

"Then prepare yourself! Gather all the volunteers you can find!" The guard captain called.

Michael heard the back and forth between the guard captain and the witch, and he made his presence known by hopping out of the car and walking straight towards the captain.

"I want to volunteer." Michael said.

"No." The guard captain said.

"And why not? I'm just as capable as anyone!" Michael insisted.

"I don't allow men to fight for me, because I'm sick and tired of writing letters to their wives. Besides, the law says that men aren't required to fight." The guard captain explained.

"... You're making a mistake captain." Michael said.

"Maybe I am, but I don't care. Fuck off." The guard captain said dismissively.

"No! I'm not leaving until you give me something useful to do! I'm not going to sit on my ass and wank off while people are out there dying!" Michael shot angrily.

The guard captain responded by getting right up in Michael's face.

"I should throw you in the punishment pit." The guard captain growled.

"I'm not your enemy you idiot. The ORDER is your enemy!" Michael growled.

...

*Sigh

"You're no weakling. I respect what you're trying to do. Perhaps in another time, we could have been friends. But for now, I have no time." The guard captain said.

And with that, she took off towards the several hundred riders which had assembled before the gates. The witch straddled one of the horses, riding double with a succubus he didn't recognize. He felt so helpless watching those inma getting ready to ride to battle. He wanted to join them so badly, even though he knew he would have to kill again. It didn't matter. Saving innocent lives was more important than his personal feelings.

"Do you have to go too?" Michael asked.

"I do. Mistress told me that if she sent out a flare, then all hope is lost and that I must come with any warriors I can spare. I am her head mage, and I cannot ignore her call." The witch said.

Michael handed up her staff, and she bent over and took it.

"Stay with Christine. She'll look after you." The witch said.

"What if you don't come back?" Michael asked, choking.

"Then all hope rests on your friends... and on you." The witch said.

*YAH!

The riders galloped off, pouring through the gate and into the growing darkness outside. It was getting late in the evening, and it seemed to reflect the mood everyone was in at that moment.

...

..

.

Christine came up to Michael and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What's the punishment pit anyways?" Michael asked.

"It's a pit filled with tentacle plants. We throw people who misbehave down in it." Christine explained.

Michael nodded in understanding. For a moment, he thought it would be worth it... just so he could help.

"She's right you know. It's not right to ask a man to fight. Because more than one person's life is at risk should the man be killed." Christine explained.

"One way or another, I'll be in this fight again." Michael said quietly.

He glanced sideways at Christine.

"I can feel it. This fight isn't anywhere near over. Sooner or later, everyone's going to have to ante up and kick in." Michael said.

"The witch felt the same way. She even said... our children..." Christine trailed off.

Her hand fell away from his shoulder, and she cupped her hands in front of her.

"How do we stop it? Does your world have some wisdom that mine lacks?" Christine asked.

Michael sighed.

"Do you want to stop the enemy from killing your friends?" Michael asked.

"Yes." Christine said firmly.

"Then you need to kill them first. All of them. The best kind of medicine is to stop the injury from happening in the first place. Every fracking Order knight we kill is one less that can go on and hurt someone else. My father taught me that a long time ago." Michael explained.

"He sounds like a hard man." Christine said.

"He was. A hard, nasty, cruel man. And I hate the bastard. But I can't deny... he's got cojones the size of Texas. And he taught me how to put a round through a fleas ass at two hundred yards. And even as nasty as he was... he was correct." Michael said.

Michael scoffed and started slowly walking away.

"So I guess I owe the bastard." Michael added.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

"Excuse me... master Collins?"

Michael looked up from the engine compartment of his Duster. He had been giving Christine a quick tour, when an otherwise ordinary succubus walked up and began talking.

"You can just call me Michael. What's up?" Michael asked nicely.

The succubus paused, craning her neck to look upwards.

"The sky I suppose. Why do you ask?" The succubus asked, confused.

"Nono Hehehe~ I was asking what do you need?" Michael asked, chuckling.

"Oh! Well uh... I was here when you were singing to people, and I was hoping that you could help me with something." The succubus said.

"If I can. What is it?" Michael asked.

"Come, I'll show you." The succubus said.

...

A little while later, after being escorted down several dark alleyways and side streets, the trio arrived at a large building in the warehouse district. Michael immediately noticed a rather large number of guards watching the building.

"Is that another prisoner?" A guard asked.

"Oh no no, he's here to help me with my project." The succubus said.

"You and your damn project. It's never going to work you know. You're just wasting your time. You should..." A guard said.

"I should just pick one I like and rape him. Yeah yeah, I've heard that a million times. I'm not the only one who's wasting her time around here." The succubus jabbed.

"*Sigh... fine, keep serenading them. But I can't let the man in." A guard said.

"But I need him! He's got a voice like one of Eros's angels! You must let him in!" The succubus insisted.

The guard raised an eyebrow and shot Michael a funny look.

"Hey don't look at me, I have no idea what's going on." Michael said.

The succubus snagged Michael's wrist and pulled him aside for a moment.

"We're keeping prisoners in the building." The succubus explained quietly.

"Prisoners of war?" Michael asked quietly.

"Yes, but these ones are special. They're not fanatics, they're just normal people that the Order forced into this awful war." The succubus explained.

"Conscripts. Lovely." Michael grumbled.

"It's not unusual for the men to feel frightened when captured, but these ones are particularly frightened. We had one man who was so frightened, he clutched his chest and fell over dead." The succubus explained quietly.

"Stress induced heart attack. Hell of a way to go." Michael murmured.

"We don't want to hurt anyone mister Collins! The dark knights hurt them enough as it was when they were in battle, and now it's our duty to take care of them! We can't afford to lose any more men! They're far too precious! We need them to live!" The succubus explained in hushed tones.

...

Michael shivered. For a moment, the vision of men being treated like livestock flashed through his mind. Her words could easily have been taken as some sort of rancher complaining about the cows being restless. But that vision only lasted a moment before his mind immediately rejected it.

...

"So how do I fit into this?" Michael asked.

"I've been coming here every day, trying to calm them with music. But every time I try, they grow even more frightened. They think I'm trying to cast some sort of spell on them, even though I've told them a hundred times that I'm a succubus and not a siren. It doesn't seem to help." The succubus explained.

"Gee I wonder why." Michael said dryly.

...

"Do you believe my project is foolish as well?" The succubus asked.

"No, but I think you definitely could use help. Out of curiosity, were you born a succubus or did you become one later?" Michael asked.

"I was born a succubus. My home lies in the Royal Makai." The succubus explained.

"And that explains everything. Alright, I'm in. But I have to know... how'd you get roped into this?" Michael asked.

"I'm a musician of course. It only makes sense that I volunteer." The succubus said, smiling proudly.

...

..

The trio went back to the guard, who was eyeing them suspiciously.

"You done yammering over there? I still can't let the man in, at least without a damn good reason." The guard said.

"Do it." The succubus said.

Michael nodded, and grinned. He started singing.

~The sun is sinking in the west
The cattle go down to the stream
The redwing settles in the nest
It's time for a cowboy to dream~

Guards and people all around came to a halt, their heads tilted listening to Michael sing. His normal speaking voice was rather deceiving for how his singing voice sounded. Michael could, at the drop of a hat, change his voice to the ENTIRE vocal range. Everything from the deepest bass to the highest female style soprano was his playground. But in the case of singing Dean Martin's 'My Rifle, Pony, and Me', he stuck to the low bass tones.

~Purple light in the canyons
That's where I long to be
With my three good companions
Just my rifle, pony and me~

Michael noticed the guard get a little weak at the knees. That bass voice was just too much for her.

~Gonna hang my sombrero
On the limb of a tree
Comin' home sweetheart darlin'
Just my rifle, pony and me
Just my rifle, my pony and me

Whippoorwill in the willow
Sings a sweet melody
Riding to Amarillo
Just my rifle, pony and me
No more cows to be ropin'
No more strays will I see
Round the bend she'll be waitin'
For my rifle, pony and me
For my rifle, my pony, and me~

The guard's legs shook, quaked, and finally gave out. She landed on her bum, letting out a cute squeak as she did.

"Monster lord save me, a real monster has appeared!" The guard exclaimed.

Michael chuckled and knelt down to be on her level.

"Aww, I hope you don't mean that in a bad way." Michael said kindly.

...

..

.

~A Few Minutes Later~

.

..

...

Michael found himself on a wooden catwalk inside the building, with Christine and the succubus, as well as three guards.

"I hope you can do something sir. If anyone can, you can." The guard said quietly.

Michael looked out at the floor below. It was a walled off section with several rows of bunk beds. And the place was jammed full to capacity, wall to wall, with men.

"The Order leaders are under oath to take their own lives when under threat of capture. These mere soldiers surrendered even as their betters were slitting their own throats around them." The guard whispered in his ear.

"Okay. I got it. You three can take off." Michael said quietly.

And with that, the guards left them alone to do their thing. Several of the prisoners began pointing Michael out. The murmuring started.

"Look. It's a man."

"That's the first man I've seen here, besides us."

"Why's he being treated different?"

The prisoners murmured on, displeased with their situation.

"Hello boys~ Anyone ready for some more music?" The succubus said cheerfully.

An angry chorus answered her, followed by someone throwing a wooden bowl at the poor girl.

"I'm not that bad! I sound wonderful while bathing!" The succubus protested.

Michael sat down on the edge of the catwalk, his boots dangling over the edge. The succubus, seeing that Michael wanted to watch a little while before contributing, produced a musical instrument and began playing.

" $%^8#0)!~-8**7&5318008~" The succubus sang.

...

"What the hell? Is that the same gibberish that Sherry writes in? Is that some sort of succubus native language?" Michael thought.

The murmuring amongst the crowd grew terrified, some of the men even clapping their hands over their ears. Other wailed and pulled on their hair. Some of them curled up in balls and rocked back and forth, mumbling prayers to the chief god.

...

The succubus finished her song, and all fell silent.

"That was beautiful~" Christine remarked.

"Thank you~" The succubus said cheerfully.

"I need an old priest and a young priest." Michael quipped.

"You didn't like it?" The succubus asked, saddened.

"Don't get me wrong, you have a pretty voice. But I couldn't understand what you were singing." Michael said.

The men down in the holding area below all perked their ears up when they heard Michael say that.

"Really?! But it was such a simple song! Which part was confusing? Was it the part about the flowers bending in the rain? It was meant as a metaphor." The succubus asked.

"...um... well... it was the whole thing really. I couldn't understand your language." Michael said nervously.

.

.

.

"But you understand me right now though." The succubus said, confused.

"Yeah because you're speaking in English right now. But you were singing in something else. I've heard my wife say similar sounding things when she's casting spells." Michael said.

"SHE'S CASTING HEXES ON US!" A prisoner shouted.

"But I'm not! I'm just singing! I don't understand!" The succubus exclaimed.

"Do you suppose... we've been scaring people because we weren't speaking in the common tongue this whole time?" Christine wondered quietly.

...

"Here, give me that funny looking guitar of yours, and I'll take a turn at it." Michael countered.

"It's called a lute." The succubus said as she handed it over.

"Uh huh, well it looks like a guitar to me. And I hope it plays like one, because I've never played a lute before." Michael said.

He strummed his fingers across the strings. It was lighter sounding than a guitar, with a brighter tone that wasn't as loud. But it would do. All the strings were in more or less the right places, so he began causally playing as he familiarized himself with the instrument.

"Hey you're picking that up really fast!" Christine remarked.

"For someone who hasn't ever played a lute..." The succubus trailed off.

...

As Michael casually strummed the instrument, the men began to gather around below him.

"Who are you? Why do you walk free amongst these monsters? Are you a monster too?"

"I'm not a monster. I'm human, like you." Michael said.

"Why haven't they eaten your soul yet?"

"I'd have to say... because they don't do that. Whoever told you that was mistaken." Michael said.

"How come you can walk free, but we're captives?"

"I'll answer that with another question. Is it acceptable to walk around in your home city or village and kill people?" Michael asked.

"...no."

"And what were you trying to do when you were captured?" Michael asked.

"...kill the monsters."

"That's why you're captives, and I walk free." Michael said.

Michael kept strumming, getting better and better the more he played. All of a sudden, his tune changed and he began playing something for real. The soldiers all listened cautiously.

~Listen children to a story,
that was written long ago
About a kingdom on a mountain
and the valley folk below
On the mountain was a treasure,
buried deep beneath a stone
And the valley people swore
They'd have it for their very own~

The prisoners relaxed a little, tilting their heads and listening to Michael's words. He continued playing the instrument, singing the words to One Tin Soldier by The Original Caste as best as he could recall.

~Go ahead and hate your neighbor!
Go ahead and cheat a friend!
Do it in the name of heaven!
Justify it in the end!
There won't be any trumpets blowing,
come the judgment day!
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away~

Christine and the succubus, as well as several prisoners all looked at Michael with shocked expressions.

~So the people of the valley
sent a message up the hill.
Asking for the buried treasure
tons of gold for which they'd kill.
Came an answer from the kingdom,
"With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain.
All the riches buried there."

Now the valley cried with anger
"Mount your horses, draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain people,
so they won their just reward.
Now they stood beside the treasure
On the mountain darkened red
Turned the stone and looked beneath it
"Peace on Earth" was all it said~

Several of the prisoners averted their eyes. They were no zealots, they were just ordinary people who had been conscripted into the Order's army. Farmers, merchants, tailors, such common people. They had been told so many lies about the monster girls, but all of a sudden they were being told something new. It made the wheels in their brains begin to turn. Which is exactly what Michael intended.

~Go ahead and hate your neighbor!
Go ahead and cheat a friend!
Do it in the name of heaven!
You can justify it in the end!
There won't be any trumpets blowing,
come the judgment day!
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away

Go ahead and hate your neighbor!
Go ahead and cheat a friend!
Do it in the name of heaven!
You can justify it in the end!
There won't be any trumpets blowing,
come the judgment day!
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away~

Michael plucked the lute, slowly and solemnly closing out the song.

...

~Later~

...

It was shortly later when Michael and the others found themselves wandering out of that building.

"Well... they didn't throw things at you, so I think you made an impression." The succubus said.

"I hope so." Michael said quietly.

...

"If that's all, I'd like to go. I just got hit with a bad case of melancholy." Michael said quietly.

"That was all. Thank you." The succubus said.

...

..

As Michael walked away, the succubus quietly hummed to herself.

"Peace on Earth was all it said~" The succubus quietly hummed.

..

...

~Later~

...

Michael quietly walked along the deserted streets of Lescatie, over in the warehouse district of the city. Christine followed alongside, watching him as he walked with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low.

"You don't like violence... do you?" Christine asked.

"I just want to live in peace, with my guns and video games... and old car." Michael said quietly.

"We all want to live in peace dahling. Each in our own way. I have to say though, I find it hard to believe you are this powerful man who killed many Order heroes." Christine said.

...

"Which makes me worried... just what is he like when he's mad?" Christine thought.

..

.

The duo continued slowly walking along. There were some houses on their right, and the market was up ahead. To their left was more storage warehouses.

*Clink!

Michael came to a stop. His boot had kicked something metallic. When he looked under his sole, he found a shiny yellow coin.

"Whoa! Score!" Michael exclaimed.

He bent down to pick up the gleaming gold coin...

"I wouldn't do that dahling. That coin is most certainly cursed." Christine said.

His fingers stopped just shy of touching the coin.

"Cursed? How?" Michael asked.

"If I were to guess, you'll immediately become paralyzed and fall victim to the inma who set the trap." Christine reasoned.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" Michael asked, suspicious.

"Oh well... probably because it was that dark elf over there who's waiting for you to pick it up. See? The one staring at us from that doorway?" Christine said, chuckling.

Michael looked up to his right, and sure enough there was a dark elf peeking around a door frame a few feet away. When she saw them looking, she made her presence known. Whip included.

"Why don't you do yourself a favor, and lay down. It'll be gentle... mostly." The elf said seductively.

"NOPE!" Michael exclaimed.

*POOF

He was gone in a flash, leaving the elf and Christine standing there flabbergasted.

"NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE!" Michael's distant voice cried.

...

"Darn it! Why do they always run away?" The dark elf lamented.

"Maybe it's the whip." Christine quipped.

"EHHHHH?! REALLY?! I THOUGHT MEN LIKED THAT SORT OF THING! DARN IT!" The dark elf squeaked.

She fell to her knees.

"I'm not like the other dark elves... honest! I just want to get laid." The dark elf sobbed.

"You and everyone else." Christine said flatly.

She started walking off towards the direction Michael ran.

"Better luck next time!" Christine called.

"Fat chance." The dark elf muttered.

...

..

Christine caught up with Michael, who was waiting for her a little ways down the street.

"What was that about? I looked back, and saw her on her knees." Michael asked.

*Sigh~

"She's... just desperate. Just like everyone else. Even with all those men throwing themselves at the walls, there's still not enough." Christine said.

"Really?! Why?!" Michael asked, shocked.

"We outnumber them one hundred times. The competition to get one of the few available men is very fierce, and many don't make it." Christine explained.

"If you outnumber them so much, then why don't you just go conquer all of humanity and be done with it?" Michael asked.

"Because most of us are bad fighters. We can't bring ourselves to hurt men, even with a demon realm sword. We'd much rather kiss and hug, and be friends." Christine said.

She hopped in front of Michael and walked backwards, looking him in the eye.

"Do you know what it's like to drown in loneliness?" Christine asked.

"Yes." Michael said instantly.

"Sometimes it gets so bad, you just want to slit your own wrists. At least, that's how I understand it is for humans. For inma... it's far worse." Christine explained.

...

"Some girls get so wound up that they go crazy just at a glimpse of a man. They'll do anything, say anything, and go anywhere to get a man. Any man. They don't care, as long as they aren't lonely anymore." Christine explained quietly.

...

Michael remained silent. It seemed she wanted him to say something, but continued talking when he said nothing.

...

"You'd best be careful while you're here, or you'll end up taken by force. That tavern was calm compared to what can happen out here, especially at night. The owner of the tavern screens all the inma, so they won't go wild and break any more tables." Christine explained.

"Well! If anyone tries to take me, they're going to have a hell of a fight on their hands!" Michael exclaimed forcefully.

"What? That's not what I was suggesting at all!" Christine exclaimed.

Michael paused mid stride.

"I was suggesting that you give yourself over freely, so they don't go crazy and take you by force. Accidents happen that way, and sometimes people get hurt." Christine suggested.

"There's not a snowballs chance in hell I'm doing that." Michael said flatly.

"But why not? You've already done it with several inma already. Wouldn't it just be easier to..." Christine started to say.

"You just stop right there. I've never laid a hand on any woman other than Sherry. Period!" Michael exclaimed angrily.

He turned to walk away, but Christine caught his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Wait! Hear me out!" Christine cried.

Michael crossed his arms, glaring at her.

"So... your wife... Searraigh? She clearly wants you to get married again. Even a blind inma could sense her bicorn magic all over you. She's just trying to create a harem. Why not go along with it?" Christine asked.

...Michael remained silent.

"Well?" Christine asked.

"My wife's a succubus you idiot, not a bicorn. You don't know anything. And you're lying about me doing it with other inma." Michael shot.

And he turned and walked away.

...

..

"I'm confused. He obviously has a bicorn spell placed on him. But... a succubus couldn't do that. Right? And why does he smell like a half dozen inma?" Christine thought.

..

...

~The Previous Day~

...

*THUD

Michael fell unconscious to the ground, with Druella standing over him. She had just cast a spell to make him fall into a deep slumber, shortly after his arrival in Lescatie.

"I believe this one to be true." Druella said.

"Mistress? Can we have some fun?" The dark knights asked.

"Of course. But make sure you're gentle, and no more than a half hour each!" Druella ordered.

The dark knights hefted Michael up and dragged him into the guard house, where they threw him in a certain familiar small room. Each dark knight took turns, thirty minutes each, to rape him in any way they wished. One after another. Inma of every size and type. Violating his unconscious body to their heart's content. This went on throughout the night, until the very first rays of the sunrise appeared on the horizon. The last inma to have her way with him was a dark priest, who lay panting on top of his still unconscious body. Just like all the inma who had come there before her, she thought that he was quite delicious. But she could sense Michael's medical problem, even if she didn't quite understand it fully. She didn't have any food or medicine to give him, and her thirty minutes was running out, so she did the next best thing. She produced a sinister looking little glass vial.

"The sacrament of the fallen god. It will strengthen your body and spirit, but in exchange you will slowly succumb to lasciviousness and obscenity. But I'm sure that's what you wanted anyways, since you came to this city of lust and darkness." The dark priest said.

*Pour

She slowly poured it in his mouth, and encouraged him to swallow the blood red liquid. He drank it all, every last drop. Right away, his cheeks flushed red.

*Smooch~

"See you in church... be sure to bring your harem with you. Clothes are optional." The dark priest said softly.

When Michael eventually woke up to the sound of the witch and Druella talking, he had no idea that anything had happened.

...

..

.

~The Present~

.

..

...

Michael and Christine came to a unified halt in the middle of that warehouse district in Lescatie. One of the otherwise ordinary buildings had a large amount of activity around it, and it had a flag waving over it.

"It's a hospital." Christine explained.

Michael practically hopped in excitement.

"A hospital! That's perfect! I bet I could do some good here!" Michael exclaimed.

"Ehh? You're a healer now? I thought you were a singer. Hey! Wait up!" Christine exclaimed.

When they got up to the building, there was a unicorn running the place. She noticed them coming, and immediately blocked their path.

"Wow... a unicorn~" Michael thought, smiling.

...

"You cannot come here human! Turn back at once! There is sickness here!" The unicorn warned frantically.

"My name is Michael, and I want to help..." Michael tried to say.

"I'm sorry human, but I cannot accept your help. You would get the disease, and I would have yet another patient to care for." The unicorn interrupted.

"What kind of disease? Infected wounds?" Michael asked.

"No. The plague is among us. The order launched diseased bodies over the wall, and it has spread like fire. The incubi are resistant, but still get sick. And the humans... I fear they may be lost." The unicorn explained.

"The plague as in... the bubonic plague? The black death?" Michael asked.

"Yes! Now leave this place, and pray you never return!" The unicorn cried.

And with that, they were shooed off.

...

"It's just as well dahling. The last thing you need is to get the plague." Christine said.

"I have medicines that can cure the bubonic plague. Now that I know what she needs, I'll go get it and give it to her." Michael said, determined.

"You never give up, do you?" Christine asked.

"Not while people are dying and I can help them. If I sat around and did nothing... if I made excuses... I'd be no better than they were!" Michael insisted.

"Who?" Christine asked.

"...my family." Michael whispered.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Late evening had come. The buildings and the wall were casting long shadows, covering up the Duster and much of the alleyway it was parked in. Michael was on a mission. He got back to the Duster in record time, and started tearing the car apart to get at all the medicines that Desdemona had stashed inside for him. Undoubtedly she would be upset that he never did talk to her doctor friend, but he really didn't care. He was willing to get chewed out a little if that's what it took. So he tore open every door, the trunk, and pulled the seats forward.

"Oh dahling, you should just relax. I'm sure they already have whatever herbs you have." Christine said.

"I didn't bring herbs. I brought something way better. Something that could knock the plague out no problem." Michael said.

"But there is no such medicine that can cure the plague. Even I know that." Christine said.

Michael ignored her disbelief, and kept digging in the car. He knew about the stuff in the trunk, but he wanted to make sure that medicines hadn't been put in places he didn't know about. So he stuck his arm under the back seat.

*brush

Michael froze. He had brushed his fingers against cold metal. But not just any cold metal, the very familiar feeling of cold parkerized metal. Wrapping his fingers around the object, he recognized it immediately.

"My Mossberg 590!" Michael thought.

He hadn't even known it was there. Stavish must have run out of room in the trunk, and shoved it under the seat. It was an older model with the wood stock and pump, but it was an old trusty reliable friend that he had owned for years. Typically he kept it loaded with rock salt, but he could feel quite a few boxes of shot shells down there. Pulling one box out to peek at it, he saw what it was. Double aught buckshot, nine pellets.

"Is something wrong dahling?" Christine called.

Michael shoved the box of shells back under the seat.

"Nope. I'm just not finding what I'm looking for." Michael said.

He picked himself up and dragged his fatigued carcass out of the car.

"I'll just keep that quiet. It's my ace up my sleeve." Michael thought.

Rounding the car, he went into the trunk and opened a couple of plastic totes, and found the Desk Reference he had been looking for.

"So here's the plan. I'm going to carry this to the hospital and give it to them. Of course they've never used medicine like this, so I'll have to teach them a little. This book can be referenced if I'm not sure on something." Michael explained.

Just as he finished speaking, the sun went down enough to have a long shadow cover the duo. As soon as Christine was bathed in darkness, her whole demeanor changed.

*Glomp!

Christine grabbed onto him from behind and pushed him into the side of the Duster.

"Gu-hey!" Michael exclaimed.

"Don't worry dahling. I'm only half vampire. I won't suck your blood~" Christine whispered hotly in his ear.

Her hand crept between his legs.

"I might suck something else though, if given half a chance." Christine whispered seductively.

"Stop it! I said stop it!" Michael exclaimed.

He struggled, but that lithe woman held on tightly.

"She's stronger than before!" Michael thought.

*GROPE!

Michael let out a gasp as Christine's fingers grabbed onto the bulge between his legs.

"Oooohhhh~ It's big~ No worries, I can handle every inch. I'm tougher than I look." Christine cooed.

She gently turned Michael around and kissed him. His eyes fluttered shut, and he melted in her soft arms. The power of her lips could not be denied, especially with how utterly sensitive and vulnerable he was to inma power. Sherry's spells from back when they visited Las Vegas saw to that. He wound up in a wonderful whirlpool of pleasure as Christine swirled her tongue around in his mouth. It might have gone on forever, had Christine not made a small mistake.

*Chomp!

She bit him. Not a vampire bite, but a lewd love bite. Michael snapped out of his trance instantly and pushed her away.

"Ow! You crazy...!" Michael exclaimed.

He skittered away from her, directly into one of the last few streams of light coming from the setting sun. She followed him until she got to the edge of the light, and then she stopped.

...

Michael collected his thoughts, and realized it was the sun that was holding her back.

"Come back dahling. Don't go to that hospital. You'll get sick." Christine pleaded.

"Is that why you just attacked me?!" Michael demanded.

Christine nodded. She reached out towards him, but her finger touched the light and she pulled away.

"Come back here to the shadows dahling. Sunlight makes me weak like a human woman." Christine pleaded.

Michael's eyes looked past Christine, towards the box full of medicines still sitting on the edge of the Duster's trunk. He needed them, and she was in the way.

"Don't ever do that again. Ever. Understand?" Michael said firmly.

She peered at him with those slate grey eyes. Something about the way Michael said it, and his body language at that moment, utterly shut her down. She realized that Michael would probably want to call off the deal and send her away after she broke her end of the bargain.

"I'm sorry dahling! I didn't mean to go too far! I'm just trying to look after you!" Christine exclaimed.

Michael's scowl melted a little.

"I can appreciate that, but you still crossed the line." Michael said.

"I won't do it again. Please... forgive me!" Christine pleaded.

...

*Sigh

"Fine. Just don't do that again. I'm married. It's wrong." Michael said firmly.

He took one step into the shadows, and Christine immediately wrapped her arms around him in a big hug.

"She's an inma... that's just how they are." Michael thought.

...

..

.

So Michael and Christine started walking back towards the hospital. As Michael walked, he mentally prepared himself for what would likely be a very nasty and disgusting place filled with infection and pestilence. Wartime hospitals tended to be like that. He went through the mental checklist, thinking about what medicines he would use for what kind of battlefield wounds. And of course... the plague.

"Are you a healer?" Christine asked.

"Oh no. I'm an electronics technician." Michael refuted, shaking his head.

She sort of stared at him blankly.

"A what?" Christine asked, confused.

"That's... uh... well it's complicated. I brought these medicines here to foster good will, not because I'm a healer. Does that make sense?" Michael asked.

"I suppose so." Christine said, uncertain.

...

They walked together for a while, more or less silently, and very awkwardly.

"So... why don't we just cut to the chase and ask each other what we're really wondering." Christine said, smiling.

"What?" Michael muttered, confused.

"How long is your cock?" Christine asked.

*COUGHcoughCOUGH!

"WHAT?!" Michael exclaimed.

"I know it's big, but I'm curious just how big. Is it wider, or longer? Or both?" Christine asked casually.

"You're wrong. It's tiny. Tiny itty bitty like a sewing needle. You wouldn't be interested in it at all." Michael lied.

"Oh dahling, don't be like that." Christine said.

"I told you to stop. Are you going to stop, or are we going to part ways?" Michael asked dangerously.

"I'm sorry dahling." Christine said sorrowfully.

...

..

.

When the unicorn saw them coming back, she let out an exasperated sigh.

"You again? Are you asking to get sick?" The unicorn asked.

"I brought medicine that should help your plague victims." Michael said.

"Medicine? What medicine? There is no such medicine for the plague." The unicorn insisted.

"I come from a faraway land, and we invented a medicine that can stop it in its tracks. It'll give those people a fighting chance. So... how about it? You going to let me in?" Michael asked.

The unicorn hesitated for a good long while, wrestling with her own ethics.

"I cannot guarantee your safety. But we need any help we can get. Very well human. By all means, please help us!" The unicorn said, at long last.

...

Michael made his way into the field hospital, and was immediately taken aback by how clean it was. While there were clearly not enough staff to help all the sick, it was hardly the nasty hole he had expected. That makeshift hospital in a medieval world filled with swords and bows was cleaner than some modern hospitals.

"Take me to your sickest plague victim." Michael said.

The unicorn shuffled nervously on her well trimmed hooves.

"Can't I take you over there to the ones suffering from demon realm fever? That'd be a lot safer." The unicorn asked.

"Sorry, I didn't bring anything for that. Take me to the plague victims." Michael insisted.

The unicorn really didn't want to do it, but Michael nagged her until she did it. The victim was a man, laying in a bed with a succubus holding his hand. That man looked so bad, the only sign of life was the very slight rise and fall of his chest.

"Hello, my name is Michael. I've come to help." Michael said kindly.

He sat down on a stool across from the succubus, who looked up at him with nearly dead eyes.

"If it's alright, I'd like to take a look at him." Michael requested.

She slowly nodded, not even saying a word. Her eyes were red and puffy, and Michael guessed she probably lost her voice quite a while ago. So Michael pulled on some gloves, and donned a headlamp, and gave the man a quick check.

"I wish I had that SOAR medic right now. He'd be all over this shit like white on rice." Michael muttered.

...

It took Michael all of two seconds to determine without a shadow of a doubt that the man had the bubonic plague. Even a freshman in highschool health class could figure it out. It was that obvious.

"It would be better to use doxy, but I don't have any. So this'll have to do." Michael said.

He grabbed a small wooden bowl from the stand next to the bed, and began doling out medication.

"So this is what you're going to do. I want you to give him one of these pills twice a day. That's once in the morning, and once at night. And you keep doing it until you've used up every last one. It's important. Can you do that?" Michael asked.

The succubus nodded.

"Yes, we can do that. Twice daily, until they're all gone." The unicorn said.

He handed the precious life saving medicine over to the unicorn, except for one which he handed to the succubus.

"Make sure he takes it with water. Understand?" Michael asked.

The succubus took it, her eyes filled with tears. She held it as if she were holding the most precious jewel in the world.

"Thank you! How much do I owe you?" The succubus rasped.

"Nothing. It's free." Michael said.

The woman's eyes lit up, showing the first spark of life since Michael had gotten there. He watched as she very carefully fed the man the little pill, and helped him swallow it with a little water.

...

..

.

The same thing happened again and again that evening. Michael gave out all that medicine for free, saving countless lives in the process. He walked out of there without a single dose left, and he didn't care. As he had walked out of the hospital, he plopped the Desk Reference on the unicorn's desk.

"When the battle is over and the city is safe again, read through this book. And if you find something that can help someone somewhere, make a note of it. Those medicines will be coming here soon." Michael said.

"Thank you sir, you're an angel." The unicorn said happily.

"It's nothing to do with me. Thank Druella." Michael said.

And with that, Michael and Christine walked out.

.

..

...

~Shortly Later~

...

"Alright Christine, hit me with another." Michael said.

*SPLASH!

Christine threw another bucket of water at Michael, and he frantically scrubbed himself with a bar of lye soap he had scavenged up. His eyes were shut because of the soap.

"Damn that's cold! Hit me again!" Michael exclaimed.

"I have to draw another bucket out of the well dahling. Give me a moment." Christine said.

She threw the bucket down the well, and then drew up another full load. Then she splashed it on him. Meanwhile, people in the street were stopping to stare. They wanted to know why the strange man was bathing in the middle of the street, in the middle of night, with nothing on but his skivvies. Not that Michael cared what they thought of him. He just didn't want to get the plague.

"Get me right in the face this time." Michael instructed.

"Yes dahling." Christine said.

*SPLASH!

"For someone who loves his wife very much, you're sure doing everything you can to end up gang raped." Christine noted dryly.

Michael wiped the water and soap out of his eyes so he could see.

"Which would you rather be? Chased by a bunch of horny demons, or sick in bed?" Michael asked.

"I don't know. I've never been sick before." Christine said.

...

..

"Consider yourself lucky. Hit me again." Michael said gruffly.

*SPLASH!

The crowd of onlookers grew as Michael cleaned himself.

"Hey, why don't you take it ALL off!" Someone cried.

"Nope. This is as far as I'm going. You're just going to have to enjoy what show you're getting." Michael refused.

...

*TINK

A silver coin landed on the ground next to Michael's feet.

*TINKclatterpatterTINKTINK

A whole bunch of coins appeared on the ground next to Michael's feet.

"Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!" The crowd chanted.

"HEY! I'm trying not to get sick here! I was just in the hospital with the PLAGUE victims! Leave me alone!" Michael growled angrily.

And just like that, the whole crowd instantly clammed up.

...

"We're sorry!"

And they dispersed, with one last coin landing at Michael's feet with a loud CLANK.

"I guess they're at least somewhat reasonable." Michael grumbled.

...

~Later~

...

They walked back to the Duster, where Michael sealed his soaking wet clothes up in a tight plastic bag. They were washed, but they needed to be dried at some point. He dug out something dry, and used the Duster as cover while he got dressed.

"You play some dangerous games dahling. Being near naked in the middle of a demon realm, and at night no less. What sort of reaction did you expect?" Christine said.

"Yeah yeah, you made your point." Michael grumbled.

He pulled on his clothes, and tugged on his old reliable pair of jungle combat boots. Then he pulled on a jacket to help warm himself up. It was getting awfully cold since the sun went down.

"Have you ever been sick?" Christine asked suddenly.

He glanced up at her, and then back to his jacket.

"Yeah. A lot." Michael said simply.

"...oh." Christine said quietly.

...

"What's it like to be sick?" Christine asked.

"It depends on what you're sick with. But... it's the worst feeling in the world. You're helpless as something invisible slowly damages your body." Michael said.

He sighed and leaned against the Duster.

"I suppose inma in general never get sick like humans do. I envy you. You'll never know what it's like." Michael said.

"How come you never became a healer? You clearly have the empathy for it." Christine asked.

"No I don't. I'm not good with people. I prefer electronic things. I understand them. I know how they tick." Michael said.

...

"Machines don't wait until you're at your worst, and then stab you in the back." Michael added.

Before Christine could answer, a shout rang out from the wall.

...

"OPEN THE GATES! THE RIDERS RETURN!" A guard shouted.

Michael watched as the gates opened, and a few stragglers staggered inside. Christine, who was standing on the passenger side of the Duster, pointed out the shocking obvious.

"Where are all of them? Didn't more leave than that?" Christine asked.

Michael heaved himself away from the Duster, and hustled over to the riders. But calling them riders wasn't quite accurate anymore. They were all on foot, and barely at that.

"Captain! What happened?" Michael cried.

The guard captain was a mess. Swaying tiredly, she looked ready to collapse right on the spot. It wasn't until Michael got closer that he saw the battle wounds.

"We never got to Druella... they hit us from every dir...ection..." The guard captain gasped.

Michael caught her just as she fell.

"How many were there? Captain!" Michael cried.

"Never saw them... all around us... couldn't see..." The guard captain murmured.

Michael bent down and swept that guard captain off her feet, and started running towards the hospital. She was so damn heavy, but he didn't care. As much of a pain in the ass she was, he wasn't about to let her bleed out.

...

He carried her all the way to that unicorn, who was still on duty at that hospital.

"Hey! We've got wounded here!" Michael shouted.

"Put her over there! We're ready!" The unicorn shouted.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Michael wandered out of the hospital, where Christine was waiting for him. He had a hard look on his face.

"Well? What tidings did they bring? What is the news?" Christine asked.

"They never made it to Druella. They were ambushed along the way, and they never knew where it came from. It was as if the enemy was invisible. Most of the reinforcements are all dead." Michael explained.

"That's impossible! The order could never make an effective fighting force invisible! The mana cost is too great!" Christine said.

"Well they did it. Sure as shit, they did it." Michael spat.

"What of the witch? I didn't see her at the gate." Christine asked.

"The captain didn't know. They got separated." Michael recounted.

...

The wheels began turning in Michael's head, as he mulled over the situation. All of a sudden, he began running towards the Duster.

"I have an idea!" Michael shouted over his shoulder.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael ripped open the trunk to the Duster, and rifled through his gear. Pulling out a heavy duty pelican case, he turned and made a beeline for the top of the wall. He took the stairs two at a time, all the way to the top.

*CLICK... CLICK

He opened the case. Inside was a very high quality (and expensive) piece of equipment. A FLIR thermal optic.

*Niiiiiiirrrrr

He powered it on, and peeked over the wall. Right around then, Christine caught up.

"What in the world are you doing NOW, dahling?" Christine demanded.

"Trying to save lives." Michael said.

He slowly surveyed the landscape, bit by bit, until he spotted something. A white blob, shaped like a human, standing out in the no-man's-land.

"Come here please. I need your help." Michael said.

Christine came to his side, and he pointed out into the blackness of night.

"You're half vampire right? You can see well in the dark?" Michael asked.

"Right. Possibly better than any other inma, other than a pure blooded vampire. What am I looking for?" Christine asked.

"Do you see anyone out there? Right in the direction I'm looking?" Michael said.

"Not a soul." Christine said.

A few of the guards also looked out towards where Michael was pointing, and they shook their heads.

"You sure? For positive sure?" Michael asked.

"I am completely certain. There are no people out there, at least alive." Christine said.

...

Michael watched that heat signature slowly move across the battlefield. Whoever it was seemed to be checking the dead bodies. Probably looking for the slain heroes.

...

"What do you see dahling?" Christine asked.

"I see dead people." Michael said.

He slowly grinned.

"At least... they'll be dead soon." Michael added.

He turned and hustled back down the stairs, carrying his thermal gear with him. Getting back to the Duster, he dumped all his gear in the trunk.

"I don't like where this is going dahling." Christine said.

"I'm sorry Christine, but I'm afraid our date is over." Michael said.

"No!" Christine squeaked.

Michael slammed the trunk of the Duster, and went for the passenger door.

...

"I'm sorry dahling, but our date isn't over yet. It's just begun." Christine whispered.

"Hmm? What was that you said?" Michael asked.

Her hand fell down to the hilt of her demon realm silver sword.

*SHIIIIIING

*SHANK!

She drew her rapier and stabbed Michael in the belly. He looked down at the blade protruding from his belly, gurgled, and collapsed like a rag doll.

"Hehehehe~ I can't let you leave dahling~ hehehehe~ I like you too much~" Christine laughed, her eyes glinting.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Michael came to his senses a little while later. He found himself laying on a large bed, with his wrists tied to the headboard, and all his clothing gone except for his skivvies.

"What the hell?!" Michael exclaimed.

At first he thought he had been alone in that room. But one moment he was alone, and the next moment Christine was there. Her eyes looked wild, maybe even insane.

"What's come over you!? Why are you doing this!?" Michael asked, struggling.

She slid on top of him and stared deeply into his eyes.

"I warned you dahling. I gave you a chance to give yourself up. But you didn't listen. You left me no choice!" Christine exclaimed.

At long last, Michael finally learned the truth about Christine. She seemed like such a pleasant person on the surface, like the kind of person that could be trusted immediately. She had a warm smile, and radiated happiness. But Michael should have known better. He should have known that people wear facades, and inma were no different. He had thought that Christine the dhampir was a safe monster, but she was the most dangerous of all. At least the manticores were up front about it.

"It wasn't other inma you were talking about earlier! You were talking about kidnapping me yourself!" Michael realized.

He remembered what she had said earlier that day. How some inma were so desperate that they would do anything, say anything, or go anywhere if that's what it took to get a man. Any man. Even one that was already taken, like Michael.

"I love you Michael dahling. I fell in love with you the very instant I first laid eyes on you. I knew instantly... you were the one I've been waiting for all this time." Christine confessed.

"You lying bitch! You promised it wouldn't go this far! I trusted you!" Michael spat.

She winced and looked away.

"Oh, your words stab at my heart. But it's okay, they're just words. Actions are more important to me." Christine said, pouting.

Christine's expression soon switched back to her usual grin, and pressed her cheek against his.

"First, we'll make love. Of course we will. I've waited so long, and I've finally got you where I want you. Second, I'll hide you away in a place where your wife can't find you. She'll look and look, but I know how to keep her away." Christine started.

She slid her hand under his waistband as she spoke.

"I'll wait until she's felt the same desperation that I've felt, and then I'll reveal myself. I'll tell her that I won't give you back until she signs a demon's pact permitting me to become your first wife and mistress of the house. She'll sign it of course." Christine said.

Michael started struggling again, and Christine had to pin him down with her lithe body.

"Don't worry dahling, you'll see her again! But she's a bad wife, and I won't let her be in control anymore. A real wife wouldn't have let you be out here on your own, alone, fighting in a war you do not belong. I'll keep you happy. And safe. And controlled." Christine reassured.

...

"My adoptive mother taught me everything I needed to know about how to treat males." Christine said, grinning lewdly.

Michael's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't ever considered the possibility that a dhampir might have been raised by someone other than her biological mother. But thinking about it, and knowing what he read in the MGE, it made more and more sense.

*TUG

She pulled down his skivvies, and her eyes lit up.

"I've never seen one before! It's... more beautiful than I could have imagined!" Christine said in awe.

Michael struggled as Christine gently wrapped her fingers around his manhood.

"This is going to be inside me... I can't wait~" Christine said excitedly.

She struggled to get her pants off while pinning Michael. He was practically having a panic attack inside. The thought of Sherry, how much he loved her, kept circling like a tornado in his heart. In his mind, he imagined how Sherry would react when she learned that he was missing. How she would sign over her rights, and even her marriage, just to have him back. He could imagine the pain and heartbreak on her face. It killed his soul a little just thinking about it. Thinking how Christine was going to come between them... there was only one answer to her grand scheme.

"NO!"

"NO!"

"NO!"

Christine looked up from her inspection of his manhood just in time to see Michael's left arm wrench free of the ropes.

"Uh oh." Christine said.

*CRACK!

His powerful left hook hit her hard enough to launch her clean off the bed. She thudded against the wall, and slid down to the floor.

...

She looked up from the corner of the room where she had landed, to see Michael looming over her with fist clenched. Hovering on the razor edge of consciousness, she weakly mumbled.

"Why?" Christine asked weakly.

"I don't love you. I love Sherry. She's the only woman for me, and I won't let you break her heart! " Michael spat.

And that was it. Christine passed out.

...

Michael fled the scene, grabbing his clothes and running out the door as quickly as he could. It turned out that the hookup tavern had rooms for rent, and Christine had taken him there. So he ran through the tavern, past all the patrons there, and out into the dark street.

...

Once he returned to the Duster, he lunged into the back seat and ripped his Mossberg 590 out of under the seat.

*SHICK SHAAACK!

He dumped out the rock salt shell. He had no need for non lethal weapons anymore. Where he was going, only hot lead would help. With his weapon in hand, he marched straight into the guardhouse near the gate.

...There was nobody inside. Just about everyone had left to go fight, leaving Michael's things unguarded. It brought a smirk to his face.

"Suckers." Michael thought.

He leveled his shotgun on the warded glass case, and pulled the trigger.

*BOOOOOM!

The massive power of a shotgun at point blank range was too much for the glass case, even if it was magic. It shattered at the hinges and fell apart. Michael swept in and gathered up all his gear. It was heavy as hell, but he didn't care.

...

Michael ran out of that guard house armed to the teeth. He had an AK, his Beretta, his shotgun, some grenades, his helmet, and a LAW tube.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael found a horse. Not just any horse, but a big war horse that the inma had captured from the Order. Which was probably a good thing, because those demon realm horses wouldn't let him get anywhere near them. He had it saddled and all ready to go, and standing ready at the main gate.

"Open the gate!" Michael shouted.

The gatekeeper peered down at him with large bright eyes.

"A human? Are you daft? I can't open the gate for a human!" The gatekeeper said.

"If you don't, I'll throw you over the wall and do it myself!" Michael warned.

"EEP!" The gatekeeper squeaked.

*Creeeeeeaaaaaaaakkkkkk

*Ruuuuuuuuumble

The gate began opening. Michael brought his helmet mounted thermal optic down over his eye, and got ready to ride through the narrow opening. Just before he jumped into the saddle, he heard a voice he really didn't want to hear.

"DAHLING!" Christine cried.

"Damn it, I don't have time for this shit." Michael cussed.

Christine came running out of the shadows, her hair a complete mess. It looked like she was still suffering from the effects of that knock to the head.

*SHICK SHAAACK

Michael shucked the empty shell out of his shotgun and loaded a new shell from the bandolier on his chest. The empty plastic hull hit the ground with an empty hollow rattle. As Christine drew closer, he leveled the shotgun on her chest.

"Don't you dare touch me home wrecker, or I'll fill your britches with buckshot!" Michael warned.

Christine came to a skidding stop, her eyes latched onto the gaping maw of the shotgun.

"I won't ever give up Michael Collins! Someday, I will have you! It could be a hundred years from now, but I will have you! Time means nothing to me! I am the daughter of a vampire, and I am eternal!" Christine said.

"And I'll fight you until the day I die! Frack you, homewrecker!" Michael barked.

He swung himself up into the saddle, the horse prancing nervously. Christine tried grabbing his leg, but he kicked her hand away.

"YAH! Get going nag!" Michael shouted.

Christine jumped forward and grabbed at the reigns.

"NO! I can't let you go! Dahling!" Christine screamed.

"HYAH!" Michael shouted.

The horse's reigns slipped from her fingers, and she tried to clutch at anything she could, but the horse slipped away.

...

Once Michael was outside the walls, he ran that horse for all it was worth away from the city.

...

~Thirty Minutes Later~

...

Michael was picking through the dark carefully, making the horse walk instead of run. He had his head on a swivel, looking for any potential ambushes. He had spotted a natural gully which was a perfect ambush spot. As he slowly worked his way through the darkness, he began to see what was left of Druella's doomed reinforcements.

"Bodies. Monster girl bodies." Michael thought.

There were several bodies strewed across the ground around him, of every size and species. Most of them were filled with arrows, and the rest look like they had been blasted apart by magic. That was the first time Michael had ever seen a victim of a magical attack, and he wished he never had. It made him want to double over and hurl.

"If I find the bastards responsible for killing these cute innocent women, I'll tear them limb from..." Michael thought.

*Whiiiiiny

The horse made an unhappy sound, and Michael brought it to a halt. His head slowly turned, scanning the surrounding landscape. Besides his and the horse's breathing, there was no sound, not even wind.

...

Suddenly he saw it, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through his body. A man... standing twenty paces away and looking right at him. He could clearly see their hot outline in the scope, but the eye that wasn't in the scope could see nothing. He could see the human shape begin to draw a bow.

"OH FRACK!" Michael cried.

*BOOM!

He pulled the trigger on his rifle while he simultaneously dove off the horse. The muzzle flash lit up the area for a split second, and the loud CRACK of the rifle deafened him, but not enough to keep him from hearing a volley of arrows hit his horse. The poor animal let out a dying scream, and keeled over dead. Diving for cover behind the body of another separate dead horse, Michael resumed scanning with the thermals. The first man he had seen was lying in his ever growing pool of blood.

"You are alone out there demon! Surrender your weapon, and we will end you painlessly!" A gruff voice shouted.

"Molon labe!" Michael answered.

Michael saw several ghostly images rise from holes in the ground, and he set to work.

*BANG

*BANG

*BANG

The rifle clattered and bucked as Michael sent several 5.45x39 rounds downrange into his targets. Almost immediately the Order solders retreated, fearing the powerful man who could somehow strike them down in the dark despite being cloaked in an invisibility spell.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

Druella was frantically trying to keep her army coherent so they would live the night. It was an absolute mess. After having valiantly rode into battle with five thousand, she suddenly had been reduced to the leader of a roving gang of a mere five hundred. Every last one of them, every last one of her sisters lost, was a wound on her soul. The Order had laid out the perfect plan to ambush them, and she had stupidly marched right into it. With her haste to cast the Order out of their territory (and capture some men in the process), Druella no longer had an effective army. So they dug in, and set up barricades to help keep the Order at bay, until Druella could think up some way of saving their lives.

...

From the outside observer's perspective, it appeared that Druella wasn't doing much of anything. Her knights were busy running every which way while she stood there and watched them. But that was outside appearances. In truth, Druella was straining every fiber of her lilim body to keep the Order clerics and heroes from instantly killing all her sisters in arms. They were out there, in the darkness, constantly casting spells against her wards. It was a constant invisible battle, and Druella was weakening.

"How did the Order know we would attack this way? How is it their attacks are so perfectly coordinated? They hit us in our weak spots every time. How do they always know? Do they have a master tactician within their midst!?" Druella thought.

"Mistress! They attack from the south!"

"Go there immediately! Hurry!" Druella commanded.

"They attack our weakness again! There are many of my wounded sisters there! HOW DO THEY KNOW?!" Druella thought.

The invisible power struggle continued on, and she knew if she distracted herself for more than a few moments, the Order would destroy her body. Once again, she pleaded for help in her mind.

"Mother. Help me. Send help. I fear for my sisters... and I fear for myself. Somehow, the Order is not the same Order of yester year." Druella thought.

"Mistress! Our south flank is folding! We need help!"

With no help left to send, Druella was forced to go personally to the site of the battle. She arrived, and all the fighting stopped.

"Look men! The master of these demons has appeared! Destroy it! Destroy it in the name of the chief god!"

Druella was dumbfounded. Typically, whenever she entered the battlefield, the humans would all be stricken by her appearance and immediately surrender. But not these ones. They came at her, wielding sword and lance. Her power had weakened.

"Surrender! You cannot defeat me! Lay down your arms and join us, and..." Druella tried to say.

*SWIIIISH!

A sword lashed out at her, and she had to dodge it. Typically, she had this speech she always used to make the soldiers surrender. An offer of peace, an offer of food, and an offer of a warm home. But her speech had been interrupted, because those soldiers didn't give a hell.

"WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING!?" Druella thought, confused.

For the first time ever in her long campaign to shroud the world in her mother's influence, Druella was forced to fight with force of arms against the ordinary soldiers. For the very first time, her overwhelming presence was not enough to stop the fight before it started. A male soldier approached her with his sword held high, but she reached out and grabbed him. Her demonic power was so great, the soldier instantly turned into an alp. She cast him aside, and the former Order soldier was captured by the dark knights.

"Oh god! It turned him into a woman!"

"Curse you demon!"

"Flank it! Don't attack the demon one at a time! Go as a group!" An officer cried.

"BE GONE!" Druella cried, frustrated.

*BWOOOSH!

A magical blast came from her hands, and all the soldiers went flying into the darkness.

"GAHHH!" Druella cried.

She doubled over, clutching her heart. The Order mages had used her moment of distraction to land a magical blow.

"Mistress! Are you alright?" A dark knight asked, worried.

The knight knelt down and tried to help Druella, who was doubled over in pain.

"The Order is relentless! The pain strikes deep in my heart!" Druella winced.

"Please mistress, you must rest! Come back to the center of camp where it's safer!" The dark knight pleaded.

The Order pummeled her wards with renewed vigor. They sensed that they had landed a blow against her, and they wanted to finish her off. Once more, she squeezed her eyes shut and pleaded for help.

"Mother! I love you mother! Please... let me see you again! Help me!" Druella thought.

...

Druella managed to stagger to her feet and went to turn towards the center of camp, when a cry of alarm came from the knights.

"Mistress! Look out!" A dark knight cried.

Druella turned. Standing directly behind her was none other than Michael Collins. He was bloody, covered in dirt and grime, and had a look on his face of pure hatred. He had his AK, and it was pointed in her direction.

"Time to die you son of a bitch!" Michael exclaimed.

*THUD!

A dark knight tackled him, forcing him to the ground. Two others jumped on top, trying to keep that massive Irishman under control. One of them ripped his AK out of his hands and beat him with it.

*WHAM!

*WHAM WHAM!

The dark knights were none too kind, pummeling Michael into a pulp. For daring to threaten the mistress, his punishment would be great indeed. But even covered in bruises and blood, Michael kept fighting. He still had that thermal optic on his head, and he could still see his target.

"GAAAAAAAH!" Michael raged.

With all the strength he had left, he threw the inma off him, pulled the Beretta, aimed it towards Druella, and pulled the trigger.

*BANG!

...

..

~Shortly Later~

..

...

Michael sat cross legged on the ground with several weapons trained on his throat. Druella and one of her dark knights inspected the Order soldier that Michael had just killed.

"I can't sense him at all mistress. Can you?" The dark knight asked.

"No. This is some sort of cunning new weapon the Order has devised!" Druella remarked.

The dark knight knelt down and pried a dagger out of the hands of the dead Order spy.

"It's a holy blade mistress." The dark knight explained.

Druella turned on Michael, who looked like he was on the verge of passing out.

"I couldn't just let him stab you." Michael rasped.

"Release him!" Druella ordered

The dark knights pulled their weapons away, letting Michael breathe a little easier. He swayed, and nearly fell over.

"How is it you can see them, and we cannot?" Druella asked.

Michael tapped the thermal optic over his eye.

"I brought this from my world." Michael rasped.

*Coughcoughcough

Michael coughed up some blood, which spewed out into the crook of his arm.

"Damn it." Michael rasped.

He reached over and grabbed his AK by the sling, and dragged it closer. One of the dark knights tried to take it away from him, but he pushed her away and hugged his rifle to his chest.

*WHACK!

The shaft of a spear connected with the back of his head, and he dropped. All he could see was stars as he writhed in pain on the ground.

"STOP!" Druella barked.

The dark knight immediately lowered her weapon and stepped back, her eyes downturned.

"I'm sorry mistress."

Druella knelt down by Michael's curled up body, and reached out towards him with magic filled hands.

"None of you are to harm him again. Is that understood? I thought I taught you better than..." Druella tried to say.

*SWAT!

Michael swatted her hands away, and skittered back.

"Don't you fracking touch me!" Michael spat.

The dark knights began grumbling loudly in disproval.

"I have nothing but good intentions." Druella said.

"That's what Sherry claimed! She wanted me to meet you really badly, but I wish I had never met you!" Michael exclaimed.

He wiped some of the blood off his face and showed her his bloody hand. Her eyes downturned slightly.

"We thought you were trying to hurt the mistress." A dark knight said sorrowfully.

"YOU THOUGHT WRONG!" Michael barked.

He staggered to his feet, wiping the blood out of his eyes. It dripped down onto his shirt, and onto his AK74.

"Now..." Michael started.

*HaaackSPIT!

He spat out some blood.

"...If you're done beating me up, I'm going to try to save your sorry ass from this mess you created. You screwed up." Michael said, scowling.

"You show respect to your mistress!" Another dark knight barked.

"If you want my respect, earn it." Michael shot.

And with that, he staggered off. A trail of blood droplets followed him.

...

"Mistress, would you like me to punish him for his insolence?" A dark knight asked quietly.

"No more punishments. Rather, I find his insolence refreshing. You should be more like that sometimes." Druella said, smiling.

"EHHHH?! I could never say those things!" Another dark knight exclaimed.

"And that is why... exactly as he said... I screwed up." Druella said.

*BOOM!

A gunshot echoed from somewhere else in camp. One of the dark knights screamed in fright at the sound of the rifle going off. Michael had killed another invisible Order soldier. He walked through the camp, a ghastly sight with all the blood dripping off his face.

"Get up so I can kill you again!" Michael shouted.

*BOOM!

"Mistress! We must stop this madman!" A dark knight exclaimed.

"This madman might just get us out of this alive. Stay out of his way!" Druella ordered.

Druella took a couple of steps to follow Michael, then paused. Her eyes closed briefly.

...

"Thank you mother. I understand now. Every time I've asked for help, he has come. Your hero has arrived. I'll help him as much as I can." Druella thought.

...

..

~Shortly Later~

..

...

Druella followed Michael through camp. It wasn't hard to do. All she had to do was follow the bodies, and the traumatized faces of her sisters in arms. Michael was terrorizing the whole camp, wandering around seemingly aimlessly with his bloody face and strange alien looking tech over his eye... and his bang stick.

...

Eventually Michael ran out of spies, so he turned his attention on the enemy outside the defenses.

*BANG BANG BANG BANG

*WHUMP!

*BANGBANGBANG!

...

When Druella finally caught up to him, he had effectively driven the Order back a hundred yards around the whole perimeter. All by himself. The dark knights were all stunned stupid. He killed everyone, including the mages which were attacking Druella. She could feel the pressure lift off her shoulders.

"Michael Collins!" Druella cried.

"Oh. You again. I took care of your spies." Michael said dryly.

"I see. Thank you." Druella said.

Michael turned to walk away.

"Wait, Michael, I..." Druella started to say.

"WHAT?" Michael asked sharply.

He whirled around, putting his hands on his hips confrontationally. Blood dripped off his chin. He realized even as he had spoke, he was being too harsh. But he wasn't about to back down now. Not to Druella, not to anyone.

...

"You have good reason to be resentful." Druella said quietly.

Michael's eyebrows furrowed.

"We haven't exactly acted how you expected, now have we? I promise, we normally don't treat people like how we treated you." Druella said softly.

She reached out gently with her dainty hands, but Michael stepped back.

"You needn't fear me." Druella said.

"Leave me alone. I'll fix your problem, and be on my way." Michael grumbled.

"No. That is not acceptable. I demand that you stay right here with us." Druella said.

"Go order someone else around, cupcake." Michael scoffed.

"Your disrespectful voice is unbecoming." Druella said darkly.

"I don't give a hell!" Michael barked.

His drill instructor styled voice made Druella flinch. Her voice warbled slightly as she answered. That air of authority she had worn so well before was completely obliterated by that angry blood-soaked man.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Druella countered.

"You... are a spoiled princess who doesn't know a damn thing about leading an army. You have gotten hundreds, if not thousands, of your infantry killed. You think you can wage a war with what your momma put between your legs? How about you try using what she put between your ears." Michael said darkly.

*GASP!

"You are the fourth cupcake of the demon realms." Michael added.

...

It took Michael a few seconds to absorb the fact that he had just said things he had no intention of ever saying. His eye spotted Druella's hand casually waving back and forth, her fingers cloaked in crimson. Of course Druella observed the realization on his face.

"Don't feel too bad about it Michael. I am insulted of course, but I much prefer blunt honesty." Druella said, smiling.

Druella looked deeply into his eyes, to the point where she could pick out every little detail in the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns in his brown irises. She knew he didn't hate her, or any of her knights. He just hated seeing so many dead women laying around.

"What do you want from me?" Michael asked tiredly.

"Help. Please." Druella pleaded quietly.

"Then for frack's sake, hire someone who actually knows tactics!" Michael cried.

"Very well. I hereby declare you Lord Collins, Earl Marshal of my army. Granted of course... if you get us out of this mess." Druella declared.

...

..

.

"Well? What say you?" Druella asked.

"I'm an American, and I'm Irish. Frack you, and frack your damn lords and peers." Michael growled.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Never... not even once... had she ever been so soundly rejected by someone. She really was a spoiled princess.

...

"I suppose I'll help you anyways though." Michael grumbled, displeased.

"Splendid! Please do! Right away!" Druella cheered.

Michael shook his head and turned away.

"She's just as much a ditz as Sherry." Michael thought.

...

"Mother, your hero is quite testy." Druella thought.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

"Excuse me, miss lamia?" Michael asked politely.

The lamia in question turned towards him, and she wasn't too pleased.

"My name isn't miss lamia." The lamia said dryly.

"None the less, I need to ask you a question. Is it true that lamias have pit organs like lesser snakes?" Michael asked.

She relaxed her agitated stance a little, and eventually nodded her head.

"We do." The lamia said.

"Could you detect the heat of a human body? Like for example... an invisible Order soldier?" Michael asked.

"I don't see why not. Why?" The lamia asked.

"I need you to go over to the south side of our defense line and keep your pit organs open for any spies trying to sneak in." Michael instructed.

"I don't serve you. I serve mistress Druella." The lamia said.

Druella appeared behind Michael, right on cue.

"I need you to go over to the south side of our defense line and keep your pit organs open for any spies trying to sneak in." Druella parroted.

"Yes mistress." The lamia said, displeased.

The lamia slithered off. It was the twelfth or so time they had gone through that conversation.

"You're far more patient than I am. This is getting rather annoying." Druella said under her breath.

Michael turned and gave her an angry glare.

...

"That's why I put us in this mess... isn't it?" Druella asked.

"Now you're learning cupcake." Michael said quietly.

...

"We have all our barriers being watched by lamias. They can sense any heat that comes our way. And you've rearranged the knights to better defend us. What now?" Druella asked.

"Yeah... now... about that..." Michael said.

He fingered the LAW tube that was slung over his shoulder while eyeing a small hill inside their perimeter.

"I think I'm going to go lay down the law on these zealots." Michael said.

...

..

.

Shortly later. He found himself knelt down on the top of that hill, looking towards the Order encampment. It seemed they had settled in for the night, with barriers around their camp and campfires illuminating the inside. It wasn't hard to see into their camp at all. The Order wasn't afraid to reveal their movements at night. Michael was about to change that.

"Even I know it would be impossible to attack at this hour. We would be routed for sure." Druella said.

"You know that. I know that. So safe bet... they know that." Michael said.

He took a knee and unslung the M72 LAW from his shoulder.

"How do you suppose those soldiers down there feel right now? Safe? Relaxed?" Michael asked.

"They're probably sleeping. Humans sleep at night from what I understand." Druella said.

*Click click!

Michael flicked the caps off the ends of the law, and firmly extended the tube. The sights flipped up.

"Yep. Sound asleep, with the reassuring feeling that their defenses are protecting them. And who down there is the safest of them all?" Michael asked.

"The high priest. He is in that tent in the center, likely surrounded by a personal guard of the most powerful heroes and mages." Druella said.

"Uh huh." Michael said distantly.

He sighed, glancing sideways at Druella. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with curiosity. He bit his lip, nodded, and looked back towards the enemy camp. His mind was made up.

"Plug those pointy ears of yours." Michael said quietly.

Druella did as he instructed. He hefted the LAW onto his shoulder, and flicked the ARM switch forward.

"Two hundred meters. About the max range for this thing." Michael muttered.

He glanced behind him.

"Backblast area clear! ROCKET!" Michael shouted.

*POP... KABOOOOOOM!

The tent erupted in a bright flash, turning into glorified confetti. As did everyone inside.

"Nighty night preacher man. No more cults for you." Michael said, grinning.

Michael watched in satisfaction as the whole camp erupted in activity. He watched as a hundred people descended on that tent and pulled out the shredded remains of their fearless leader.

"My word..." Druella said in awe.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander. They tried to kill you, so I killed their leader instead." Michael said.

Michael turned and tossed the spent LAW tube into a hole in the ground. It disappeared into the blackness.

...

Moments later, the Law tube shot out of a crack in the ground and nailed a Jabberwock in the back of the head.

*GONG!

It then somersaulted through the air, and landed on a long table covered with tea cups and pieces of cake.

"Oowie!" The jabberwock pouted.

"Oh my! Oh my oh me oh my! Where did that strange thing come from?" A march hare asked.

"It rang your bell!" A cheshire cat said, snickering.

"That put an all new meaning to the job title of 'blocking the path of those who wander into wonderland', my friend." A mad hatter joked.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Michael settled down next to a campfire somewhere in the middle of camp. After everything he had been through that day, his fatigue was finally catching up to him.

"They won't get much sleep tonight after that. They'll all be wondering if they're next. We'll use that to our advantage." Michael said.

He sighed and held his cold hands towards the warm fire.

"We'll wait until an hour before dawn, and we'll pick up and leave as quietly as we can. They'll be the most tired right around then. We might get out without them even knowing." Michael said.

"Good. I would rather this nightmare end quietly." Druella said.

...

She lowered herself down next to him, and stretched her own hands towards the fire.

"You have said much to me that would be considered... rude. Disrespectful even." Druella said.

"Yep. Sure have. If you want to hate me, go right ahead. You wouldn't be the first." Michael said.

"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. I want to say... thank you. You saved my life, and you may have saved the lives of my sisters." Druella said.

"You're welcome." Michael said softly.

...

"Harsh words are meaningless to me. If only you had heard some of the things I've been called in the past..." Druella said.

Michael glanced at her briefly, then back to the fire.

"I forgot about that. All those holy ordained heroes you've turned into inma must have had a lot of nasty things to say." Michael recalled.

...

"Damn it. I'm sorry." Michael muttered.

"Oh?" Druella asked, surprised.

"Look, we've all had a hell of a day. Let's just start over. Okay?" Michael suggested.

He held his hand out to her.

"Is this an offer of friendship?" Druella asked.

"For what it's worth... yes." Michael said.

"And why do you wish to be friends with me?" Druella asked pointedly.

"Because you seem nice enough. I was pissed at you earlier, but I've gotten over it. I'm sorry about how I acted. My ego isn't so big that I can't admit when I was wrong." Michael said honestly.

...

And on that night, by the campfire of that ramshackle camp, Michael and Druella shook hands and became friends. It wasn't a fake friendship because she was an important person. It was a genuine friendship, something that was immensely valuable to Druella. She had plenty of so called friends due to politics, but very few actual friends. Michael was different. He didn't care about politics, royalty, or titles. He said things as they were, which was something Druella held in high regard. She had spent so many years dealing with half-words spoken by snake tongued politicians, that a straight speaking man was quite refreshing. And then there was the fact that he saved her life. He wasn't an inma, and he didn't seem vulnerable to her magical wiles, so it was safe to say that she had little to no influence over him. So that meant he didn't save her life because she was Druella, he saved her because it was the right thing to do.

*Niiiiiirow

As they shook hands, Druella cast a healing spell. All of Michael's bruises and cuts faded away. He gently probed his own face to feel for any sign of injury, and it was all gone.

"Does that feel better sweetie?" Druella asked kindly.

Michael's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

...

"I uh... yeah. It does. Thanks." Michael said, uncertain.

"Try to get some rest. Someone will wake you when it is time. I'll see to it." Druella said softly.

And with that, Michael leaned back against a fallen log. Using his jacket as a pillow, he tried to catch some shuteye.

...

*Niiirow

Druella cast a sleeping spell on Michael, making him fall deep into an unbreakable slumber. At the same time, she waved her magic hand through the air. Several dark knights appeared around the campfire on cue.

"You summoned us mistress?" The dark knights asked.

"Indeed. You know what to do." Druella said.

The dark knights all laid down their weapons and clustered around Michael's sleeping form. They produced water and small rags, and began carefully dabbing away at the blood stains. They were undoing the damage they had caused.

...

..

.

Dawn Minus One Hour

.

..

...

*Shakeshakeshake

"Sweetie~ wake up~ It's time to get up~"

...

"Let me sleep in a little longer Sherry." Michael grumbled.

"My name isn't Sherry." Druella said.

Michael's eyes flicked open, and was greeted by the familiar sight of Druella's distinctive smirk.

"It's an hour before dawn. We must go." Druella said softly.

"... I could have sworn I heard..." Michael started to say.

"Now's not the time." Druella said, very quietly.

...Michael rubbed his eyes.

"Right. Let's get the hell out of here." Michael said.

And with that, he got on his feet and gathered up his gear. He did a quick ammo check.

"Uh oh. I burned through a lot of ammo getting here. I hope I have enough to make it back out." Michael thought.

...

"You shall ride with my second in command. She will see to it that the order cannot harm you with magic." Druella said.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll do my best to keep her safe, whoever she is." Michael said.

Right at that moment, a certain familiar looking witch walked up with a horse in tow.

"Hey big brother~" The witch said cheerfully.

"Hey, you made it out okay! Are you the one I'm riding with?" Michael cheered quietly.

"Yep~" The witch said sweetly.

They shook hands. There wasn't much time to stand around and chat, so they kept their reunion short.

"Do you know what happened to the guard captain?" The witch asked.

"She and a few others made it back to Lescatie. They're with the healers." Michael explained.

...

And with that, Michael helped that little witch up onto the horse. Unlike the last time Michael rode a horse, that horse was much bigger and much scarier looking. It was a demon realm horse.

"Don't worry big brother. This one might be big, but he's gentle. And he'll let you ride him." The witch said.

"Is that right?" Michael asked.

"He told me~" The witch said cheerfully.

"He speaks?" Michael asked, surprised.

"Mmm hmm! And listens too." The witch said, nodding.

...

..

Michael turned and leaned against the horse's shoulder, and whispered.

"Hey buddy, I'll make you a deal. Don't buck me off, and I'll try to keep them Order pricks from shooting you full of arrows. Deal?" Michael asked.

*SNORT

The horse bobbed his head up and down.

"Hell, even I understood that one." Michael said, grinning.

Michael swung himself up into the saddle, placing the witch in front of him.

"If anything happens, you take the reins and I'll do the shooting." Michael said.

"Will do big brother." The witch said.

...

"By the way, how did your date go with Christine?" The witch asked.

"...It ended badly." Michael said hesitantly.

"What?! How?!" The witch asked, surprised.

"She was asking for things... I just couldn't give." Michael said.

The witch turned around in the saddle and looked up at Michael.

"I may look like a child, but I have trod upon this world for longer than you have. Heed my advice. Throw away whatever morals you brought with you from the human world. They don't work here." The witch insisted.

"I can't do that. I love my wife too much." Michael said quietly.

...

"Yah! Let's go!" Michael urged.

..

.

The monster girls filed out of their makeshift camp, quickly and quietly making their way towards the city. Some of them were on horses, some of them slithered across the ground, some of them galloped on their own legs, and some of them floated along. Druella was one of the ones who floated, choosing to move along on a floating blob of demonic energy. But the story was the same for all of them. Movement as quickly and quietly as possible, using the cover of darkness. And as it turned out, those demon realm horses could be rather quiet when needed.

"Be vewwy vewwy qwiet... I'm hunting wabbits..." Michael whispered.

"Be vewwy vewwy qwiet... the wabbits are hunting you." The witch whispered.

A few of the nearby inma chuckled lightly. It lightened the mood, which is exactly what they needed. They were about half way home.

...

..

"Uh oh. I sense something." The witch said quietly.

"What?" Michael asked quietly.

"Eyes upon us. Mistress!" The witch called quietly.

"I heard you. Be prepared to charge on my command!" Druella warned.

The knights all began to slowly draw their weapons. Michael flicked the safety down on his AK74.

...

Several anxious seconds passed.

...

"TO ARMS TO ARMS! THE ORDER APPROACHES!"

"CHARGE!" Druella cried.

"Hold on to your butts!" Michael cried.

And with that, they were off to the races. Off to their left, another column of riders appeared around the back side of a hill.

"Take the reins!" Michael yelled.

The witch took the reins and Michael raised his rifle, aiming at the leader of the pack.

*BANG!

The rider fell off the saddle, his horse continuing on. Michael poured rounds downrange, pelting those riders with hot lead while pelting that witch with fired casings at the same time. It was everything she could do to keep that massive horse under control.

*BANGCLICK!

"That's it! Out of 5.45! Move horse, move!" Michael cried.

He unslung the Mossberg 590, and thumbed the tang safety off. One of the Order knights came right at them with a massive lance, but got turned into hamburger by that Mossberg. Michael wasn't doing all the fighting though. The monster girls were launching arrows and blasts of magic left and right. Way at the head of the column, one of the Order mages lost his horse and was forced to fight on foot. He spotted Michael and the witch coming his way, and Michael leveled the shotgun on him.

"Big brother!" The witch cried.

With all the craziness going on, the poor witch was having a devil of a time holding onto that horse. She was starting to slip, and Michael had to use his off hand to grab her cloak to keep her from falling off. And of course, this all happened just as he fired, which meant his shot kicked up dirt at the mage's feet. The mage returned the favor by sending a wild unaimed magical blast their way. It grazed Michael, launching him clean off the horse.

*THUD!

Michael hit the ground in a puff of dust. That demon realm horse kept right on running, with a flailing witch still attached to it.

"Biiiiiiiig brooooooother!" The witch cried.

The horse ran off in a random direction and took her fading voice with it. She quickly faded from view.

"Mother fracker!" Michael cried.

That was all he had time to say before the Order knights caught up, and he was forced to defend himself.

...

And in that fashion, Michael got caught up in a pitched battle. The Order made up for their primitive weapons by having vast numbers, and Michael only had so much ammo. Even worse, he could only shove shells into that shotgun so fast.

"There's no place like home! *BOOM! There's no place like home! *BOOM!" Michael shouted.

Michael turned to blast a knight with a lance, but his shotgun clicked.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Michael screamed.

*SHINK

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

"Open the gates! The mistress returns!" A guard cried.

"The Order is right on their heels! Quickly!" Another guard cried.

Druella and her knights charged into the city at top speed, and the Order cavalry was hot on their heels. The gate slammed shut, and a hail of arrows shot down from the wall and drove back the Order.

"How many did we lose!?" Druella cried.

"We're still counting, but I don't think it was too many!" A dark knight answered.

...A few moments later, Druella heard murmuring amongst the survivors.

"Where's the human? Where's the salty human?"

...

Heads turned every which way, but there was no sign of Michael. Despite how ornery he had been, he had been responsible for getting back home safely. He had saved their lives, and that meant everything to them. It was as if he were a hero. A really cranky hero with a bad attitude problem, but still a hero.

"Michael! Michael Collins!" Druella called desperately.

...

"OPEN THE GATE! STRAGGLERS ARE COMING IN!" The guards called loudly.

Druella rushed back to the gate, which rumbled open and permitted entrance to several stragglers. A wounded lamia. A limping centaur. A soldier beetle with a cracked carapace. And Michael Collins, limping badly while carrying a small bundle in his arms. It was the witch. He limped right up to Druella, his eyes filled with tears.

"Michael..." Druella murmured.

"She came back for me. She..." Michael choked.

He fell to his knees, hugging the witch to his chest.

"I don't know if she's alive anymore. I can't find her little pulse." Michael choked.

Some healers soon came by, and he offered her up to them. They took her away, and left Michael there by his lonesome. His right hand limply held his Beretta 92 model S, which had the slide locked back. His arms were covered in blood.

"What happened out there?" Druella asked.

Michael slowly shook his head side to side. It didn't matter anymore. What was done, was done. He slowly staggered to his feet, revealing a gaping wound on his left thigh.

"I need to rest. I don't feel good." Michael mumbled.

He staggered towards the Duster, his leg practically dragging behind him and leaving a trail of blood. He didn't quite make it to the Duster, collapsing onto the stairs leading to some person's house.

*Drip

*Drip

*Drip

Michael leaned against a stone wall, his strength fading completely. Blood dripped onto the smooth stone stairs and ran in a rivulet down to the cobblestone road below. Druella placed her hand very gently on his knee, and began casting a healing spell.

*Niiiiirrrrrrrrooooooooowwwwwwwwww

"If Sherry were here, I know exactly what she would do. She'd heal me, and then she'd say..." Michael thought.

"Rise, for you have been healed." Druella said.

Michael's eyes slowly turned upwards, looking up towards Druella. She was gently smiling down at him. There was something familiar about that smile.

"Congratulations Lord Collins, Earl Marshal. You shall be rewarded handsomely for what you've done this day." Druella said kindly.

"I still don't care about titles." Michael said slowly.

"Then what do you desire? Money? Land? Fame?" Druella asked.

...

"I want to know why you sound like my wife." Michael murmured.

His eyes drooped tiredly. Druella's healing spell had zapped a lot of his strength.

"It's not that I sound like your wife. It's that your wife sounds like me." Druella teased.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he dozed off.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

*Smooch

*Pwah

*Schlip

*Chu

Michael slowly woke up to the sensation of something wet and warm swirling around in his mouth. He hadn't been asleep long, but it had been long enough for a certain dhampir to find him laying there on that porch.

"My, you certainly are quite the kisser." Druella remarked.

"He loves it. I can taste just how absolutely turned on it makes him~" Christine giggled.

"Aww~ How cute~ You two look absolutely adorable~" Druella cooed.

"Guh!" Michael coughed.

"It looks like you're finally waking up. Silly boy, sleeping through someone sticking their tongue in your mouth. How oblivious~ What would Searraigh have to say?" Druella joked.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Michael's eyes shot wide open. He came to his senses all in a nanosecond.

*SHOVE!

*Thud Thud Thud

*SLAM!

Michael had shoved her off, ran the short distance to the Duster, and locked himself inside. Both Christine and Druella were wide eyed.

"What was that?!" Druella asked.

...

Christine went to the driver door and tried opening it, but the door was locked. So she patted her hands against the glass.

"Dahling! Let me in! Why did you run away again? Didn't you like those kisses? I was trying to be so gentle~" Christine called.

Druella walked over to the Duster, a frown on her face.

*Patpatpat!

"Dahling! Please! Just let me in!" Christine pleaded.

"Go away you psycho hose beast!" Michael answered, muffled.

Michael was curled up on the back seat of the Duster, trying to ignore Christine patting her hands against the glass. She looked so pitiful out there, and it tempted him in ways he didn't want to be tempted.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Michael jumped in fright as the distinctive sound of teleportation magic filled the car. Druella had teleported to the seat next to him.

"I'm not going back out there! She tried to..." Michael rapidly blurted.

"Silence!" Druella ordered.

She intently stared into his eyes, making him freeze in place. It was as if she were staring deeper than just his eyes. Deeper than his mind. She was staring straight into his soul.

"...I see. You do not hate us mamono at all. Not even a little. You're just frightened of her." Druella reasoned.

"Right! It's just her!" Michael exclaimed.

"What did she do? Try to drink your blood?" Druella asked.

"No dahling! Don't say anything! Don't say it!" Christine pleaded from outside the car.

"She told me she was going to kidnap me from Sherry and hold me for ransom!" Michael recounted.

...

Druella stared at Michael, and Michael stared at Druella. She looked visibly shocked.

...

"I see. That was hardly what I expected you to say." Druella said quietly.

*CrackleWHOOSH

Druella disappeared from the Duster, and reappeared outside. Christine was in tears.

"Dahling... how could you?" Christine choked.

"GUARDS!" Druella shouted.

A dozen armed dark knights all appeared around Christine and arrested her. She didn't resist.

"Take her to the punishment pit. Her punishment is to be one day, so that she may cool her head." Druella commanded.

"By your command mistress." The dark knights said.

She watched as the guards dragged her away, and then turned towards the Duster.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

She reappeared in the same spot as before, a devilish grin on her face.

"See? Perhaps I am a poor military commander, but I know how to handle people." Druella said.

Michael was hunched over, his head hung.

"Yeah." Michael said quietly.

She slid a little closer.

"What's wrong? Are you still feeling ill?" Druella asked.

He didn't say anything at first, choosing rather to lean over and grab a bottle of water off the floor of the Duster. He popped it open... and proceeded to pour half of it over his head.

"I feel hung over." Michael murmured.

Druella tilted her head sideways.

"Don't you understand why? It's called love sickness. And you have it. Badly." Druella said.

"There's no way in hell... " Michael started to say.

"You should accept her. If you did that, she wouldn't be scheming wild plans to snatch you for her own." Druella suggested.

"Nope. I'm just dehydrated. She'd be the last one I'd ever want." Michael said.

He took a deep swig of his water.

"If you agree with her, then why did you have her hauled off?" Michael asked.

"Because she broke the law. It's highly illegal to steal away a male from another. My mother made this one of her first laws, in order to prevent us from fighting amongst ourselves." Druella explained.

"She sounds like a wise woman." Michael said quietly.

...

"Be sure you understand, I won't help you next time. She has the right to do whatever she wants to you, and you can't refuse." Druella said firmly.

"Oh yeah? Well I happen to know a thing or two about your laws, and I know she has no claim over me. We're not married. And yes, I know what an inma considers marriage." Michael argued.

...

..

"You two haven't... then... " Druella hesitated.

.

"You're right. If you two haven't entwined your bodies in the bedroom of matrimony, then she has no claim on you." Druella said.

.

..

...

*CRASH!

Both Druella and Michael froze, looking out the back window. Something large and heavy had just impacted the wall, and the whole place was an ant hill of activity.

"The Order is attacking! To arms! To arms!" The dark knights cried.

The two of them piled out of that Duster together. Michael grabbed a pile of loaded bandoliers for his trusty AK74, and charged side by side with Druella to the top of the wall.

"These pecker heads just won't give up! We'll finish our chat later!" Michael shouted.

"Show them no mercy!" Druella cried.

A battle ensued, with the Order assaulting the wall ferociously. They had a siege engine, and Michael wailed on it with a flurry of 5.45 and grenades. It never got close to the wall at all. When the Order came with ladders and scaled the wall, the knights fought them off with demon realm silver swords, arrows, magic, and claws. Michael and Druella fought side by side, the common man with the royal princess. None of that mattered anymore. They were like brother and sister, using hot lead and powerful earth-shaking magic to defend the city... and to defend each other.

...

As one might expect, since Michael was the biggest threat on the battlefield at that moment, the Order focused their attention on him. A magical attack came in the form of a giant fireball.

"Get down!" A dark knight cried.

They all took cover, and the fireball impacted the wall. It was like being inside a volcano, and Michael's skin began burning.

"Gaaaaa!" Michael screamed.

*FWOOSH!

The fire was dispersed abruptly by a cooling flurry of snow and ice. When Michael looked up, there was Druella with that grin on her face.

"Thanks!" Michael shouted.

He hopped up and slung his AK over the wall, and kept shooting. A ladder appeared next to them, and Druella threw a fireball of her own.

*FWOOSH!

Michael pulled the pin on a grenade, and threw it at a cluster of conscripts running towards them with another ladder.

*WHUMP!

"Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!" Michael shouted.

*BANG BANG BANG

*BANG BANG BANG

*BANG BANG BANG

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

...

..

~Later~

..

...

"The Order withdraws! Victory!" A dark knight cheered.

*RAAAAAAH!

The knights cheered loudly. Michael raised his AK high over his head.

"WOLVERINES!" Michael shouted.

The Order knights looked at Michael funny, but he stood firm with his AK high in the air.

"WOLVERINES!" Druella shouted, waving her hands over her head.

Michael broke into fits of laughter.

...

..

.

Plodding down the stairs, Michael made his way over to the Duster. He heaved a big ol pile of empty magazines into his trunk.

"I need to load some more." Michael muttered.

He raised a shaking hand up and wiped his face. His adrenaline was starting to crash.

"I need... to load more..." Michael muttered.

...

..

"Urp...ugggghhhhh...

.

*BLEEGGGHHHHH!

Michael doubled over and puked his guts out. Thankfully it wasn't much, mostly just water.

"Ah...frack...*spit...this sucks..." Michael groaned.

As Michael remained doubled over, he felt a hand gently lay on his shoulder. He immediately flinched away.

"I'm sorry to startle you sire. Are you okay?"

Michael wiped his mouth and sank down next to the Duster's quarter panel. He shook his head side to side. The inma in question settled down in front of him, and tried to place a hand on his forehead. He flinched away again.

"You needn't be afraid sire, I am a white mage."

Michael couldn't help it. She was possibly one of the freakiest looking inma he had ever seen. He had seen everything from succubii to lamia to soldier beetles, but none of them held a candle to the Chimaera that was crouching in front of him.

"You're a white mage?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"Yes sire." The chimaera reassured.

She gently reached out once again, and placed a hand on Michael's forehead. Her fingers were soft and warm, which was completely contrary to what Michael would have expected from the harsh looking appendages sticking out of her torso. He could see the tail of a manticore, the scales of some mysterious reptile, a multitude of shiny black spider legs, goat horns, and hooves.

...

She held her hand against his forehead for several long seconds.

...

And all at once, she pulled her hand away and walked off without saying a single word.

"What the frack?" Michael thought.

...A few minutes passed...

Druella, the chimaera white mage, and a half dozen dark knights all walked up to find Michael drinking some water and washing his mouth out.

"Lord Collins, are you well?" Druella asked.

"I'm fine. All that blood and gore really got to me." Michael said.

The whole lot of them all turned their eyes downwards.

"Mistress... must we ask a man to fight?" One of the dark knights whispered.

"Hey, I heard that!" Michael shot.

"Do not digress from the main issue! My white mage tells me that you are gravely ill." Druella said.

"You're dying sire." The chimaera said.

Michael laughed loudly.

"HA! I'm not dying! I mean... yeah I have a medical condition, but I'm not dying. Not yet. I absolutely refuse to die before Star Citizen gets officially released." Michael reassured.

Druella perked up her ears, as did everyone else. The white mage chimaera knelt down and placed her hand against his forehead again.

"A medical condition? Searraigh left you alone with a medical condition? I will have to punish her for that. Foolish girl." Druella said, displeased.

"Don't be too hard on her. She really couldn't help it. Just leave it be." Michael said softly.

One moment Druella was standing a few feet away, and the next moment she was right in his face. He hopped a little in surprise.

"What is it that ails you Lord Collins?" Druella asked.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. You've got bigger problems." Michael insisted.

...

..

.

Druella put her hands on her hips, scowling.

"You need rest. You've been through things that no man should be forced to go through. I insist that you go to the mansion and rest for the day." Druella said.

Michael shook his head while taking a drink of water.

"I'm fine." Michael insisted.

"Very well. GUARDS! Take him to the mansion! He is the Earl, and he must remain healthy!" Druella ordered.

"I said I'm fine! I just need to..." Michael protested.

The guards sheathed their swords and grabbed Michael, lifting him up off the ground and interrupting his sentence.

"Wait what?! Hey! Hold it! Let me go! Leave me alone you pricks!" Michael protested.

...

~Minutes Later~

...

*Thump!

They dropped him on his boots in front of the mansion doors.

"You go in there as Druella commanded." The dark knight instructed.

And with that, they abandoned him there like someone abandoning a puppy on the side of the freeway. He stood before the doors to the mansion, and gulped. It was the most ominous, dark, dangerous, and sketchy set of doors he had ever laid eyes on. And standing before those doors was a single guard that matched the door's description and more.

...

He approached the door with the utmost reluctance. The guard in question was a woman who possessed a cursed sword. Or more accurately stated, the guard was a cursed sword that had posessed a woman. The sword had become part of her arm, and had consumed much of her body. How Druella managed to get her to stand still long enough to guard that door, Michael couldn't guess. It was intimidating as hell seeing her there, staring at him with those evil eyes, her sword twitching in anticipation. He had fought Order knights, charging cavalry, the U.S. Army, cultists, and foreign invaders, but none of them scared him as much as that cursed sword.

"Uh... hhh..hi..." Michael stammered.

...Silence.

"I was sent by... Druella... and um..." Michael hesitated.

The eyes of that cursed sword bore into his soul, and he quickly lost his nerve.

"Nevermind! Have a nice day!" Michael blurted.

He turned and power walked out of there like he had a new york minute to spare. The guard never moved an inch.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael walked into that same hookup tavern from the previous day, with his money in hand.

"DIBS!"

"I'll shove my size 14 extra wide boot up your ass girl! Frack off! I'm hungry!" Michael barked.

"Goodness... someone's cranky!"

...

He found an empty table in the absolute back of the tavern, in the deepest darkest corner he could find. The waitress actually took a while before she realized he was over there.

"Oh! You're back monsieur! Would you like something to drink?" The waitress asked.

"Yeah but, I need something to eat. What do you have that's already on the stove?" Michael asked.

"I'm so sorry monsieur, but we've run out of everything. All we have is bread and cheese." The waitress said.

"I'll take some of both please." Michael said.

He pulled out some silver coins, and paid her.

"Right away monsieur." The waitress said.

...

..

.

"Here you go monsieur." The waitress said.

And with that, Michael had some bread and cheese with a pint of some mead. He enjoyed it too, up until the moment when a couple of dark knights swaggered into the tavern.

"We'll have two meads madame~" The dark knights cheered.

Those two dark knights were the very same ones which had dumped him in front of the mansion. They sat down with their drinks, all while Michael tried to stay as small and invisible as he could in his little corner. It didn't work.

"Hey! Look over there! It's Lord Collins!" The dark knight exclaimed.

"Shit." Michael muttered.

He gathered up his meal and tried to leave, but the two dark knights caught him right at the door.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

*THUD

Michael was forced down to his knees in front of Druella, who was quite surprised to see Michael again so soon.

"What is the meaning of this?" Druella asked.

"We caught him at one of the taverns mistress. He was eating this." The dark knight said.

They handed over the bread and cheese, wrapped up in cloth. Druella took it, wrinkled her nose at it, and handed it back.

"Eating this low quality cheese and stale bread? What were you doing in the tavern Lord Collins? I told you to go rest in the mansion!" Druella exclaimed.

She leaned down and looked Michael right in the eye.

"I like it when you're obstinate, but you needn't take it this far." Druella encouraged softly.

"It's not that. I never made it past your cursed sword chick." Michael explained.

"But she knew you were coming! She should have let you through! Did you not tell her your name and title?" Druella asked.

"I'd rather walk around downtown LA at night than talk to her!" Michael countered.

...

..

.

"... I know you're no coward. You've proven that. Are you shy?" Druella asked quietly.

Michael averted his gaze, as much as he could with that dark knight holding him by the shoulders.

"My goodness, you ARE shy!" Druella exclaimed, shocked.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

Michael and Druella appeared at the doors to the mansion once again, and that time she had him by the scruff of the neck. Sure enough, that the cursed sword was still there.

"I must warn you, there is a danger approaching this woman." Druella said quietly.

"What?!" Michael asked.

"You are in severe danger of being hugged." Druella chuckled.

...

They walked the rest of the way to the door, and stood before the silent guardian.

"Greetings friend. Do you see this man? This is Lord Collins, Earl Marshal of my armies. You are to permit him free access." Druella said.

The cursed woman nodded a single time, and stepped aside. Michael and Druella walked inside.

"You escaped hugging this time, but don't expect to escape the next time." Druella quipped.

*Creeeeeeak

*CLANG

The mansion was just as dark inside as it was outside. But while it was dark, it was certainly beautiful in its own way. And it wasn't the way Michael cared for... at all.

"This doesn't look anything like what Sherry described." Michael muttered, uncomfortable.

"Likely because she was telling you from the perspective of a succubus." Druella said.

"I was happy with that bread and cheese. Can't I go sleep in the Duster?" Michael pleaded.

"No you may not! I shan't have someone sleeping in such conditions! Besides, you're way too big to sleep inside that little box!" Druella exclaimed.

"But I lived in the Duster for two years!" Michael argued.

Druella scoffed, her face twisted in anger.

"What kind of awful hell world are you from Michael?" Druella asked.

"California." Michael quipped.

...

Right around then, a cute little maid appeared.

"Ah! Good timing dear!" Druella exclaimed.

"How may I help you mistress?" The little maid asked.

"I want you to see to it that Lord Collins is treated well. Prepare a bath, prepare a delightful dinner, and then see that he is comfortable in his wife's room." Druella said.

"She has a room here?" Michael asked, surprised.

"Indeed. Many of my higher ranked knights stay here, unless they choose to live elsewhere. For example, Wilmarina lives elsewhere." Druella noted.

...

"His wife is Searraigh Fontaine. Make sure he's extra comfortable, and make sure it's a very large meal." Druella ordered.

"We have few supplies mistress, but we will do what we can." The little maid said.

"Excellent! Now take good care of this man. He's a bashful one~" Druella chuckled.

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Michael asked.

"No-pe~" Druella sang.

"Whatever you say, cupcake." Michael shot.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael found himself standing in front of a simple doorway in a long hallway of doors. None of the doors looked different than the others, but some of them were open. Lewd sounds came from inside those open doors.

"This is Searraigh's room. Would you like to wait here for your bath, or would you like to wait in the study?" The little maid asked.

"I'll wait in here." Michael said.

*Whooosh

The door swung open silently on oiled hinges. The curtain fluttered, and a sliver of light beamed in from the hallway. The maid walked inside and illuminated a magical lantern for him.

"If there's anything you need, ring the bell by the bed." The little maid instructed.

And just like that, he was alone in that room. The very first thing he noticed was how clean it was. There wasn't a single speck of dust to be found.

...

"I really shouldn't be here. This is Sherry's private room. But... would she really be all that upset?" Michael thought.

...

"Oh who am I kidding, I'm gonna look at EVERYTHING!" Michael thought, grinning.

He made a circle around the room, checking out every little object or knickknack. On the surface, the room reminded him a lot of the love nest back home. But that was just on the surface. Since Sherry had lived there much longer than back in Michael's apartment, there were a lot more interesting 'lived in' details that he found. Such as...

"Sherry sure loves drawing. Wow. Look at that landscape!" Michael thought.

He reached down onto a desk and picked up a lovely hand-drawn landscape. After admiring it for a few moments, and marveling over the fact that he was married to the artist who drew it, Michael looked down at the next one in the pile.

...It was a drawing of a man.

"Uhhhhhh... who's that?" Michael thought.

It seemed to be a drawing of a heroic looking man with a great mane of hair blowing in an unseen gale.

*Shuffle

The next sketch down was a completely different drawing of a different heroic man, who was posed naked in a foggy scene. He had a sexy high fantasy chick hanging off his leg.

*Shuffle

The next sketch was another entirely different man, similarly heroic looking, sitting upon a throne with more high fantasy chicks hanging off his every limb.

"Is that Conan the Barbarian?" Michael muttered.

*Shuffle

In each example of Sherry's art, there was a man or several men in some sort of pose or other heroic stance. All the men were large, muscular, with long noble hairdos, and many of them sported stubble or the beginning of a beard. There were gallant knights, barbarians, tournament fighters, or other such types of bold men. Royal, regal, toned, and powerful. It didn't take Michael long to figure out that he was looking at Sherry's image of an ideal man.

"Sorry to disappoint you Sherry. You ended up with a fat nerd." Michael thought.

...

"Maybe The Governator would help a fella get into shape? I don't know. Maybe if I sent him a letter and asked nicely. Maybe he's a friendly guy." Michael thought.

He put her art back exactly as he found it, and moved on. There was a chaise sofa in the corner, right next to the window. A perfect spot to read, using the natural sunlight streaming through the lovely double arched window. In the center of the room, and displayed most prominently, was an elegant canopy bed. The sheets looked so incredibly soft, Michael just wanted to flop face first down on it. The quality was infinitely higher than what he had woken up on when he first arrived in the city. Continuing on, there was an enclosed display shelf with frosted glass doors. Michael opened it and peeked inside, and immediately slammed it shut.

"Note to self. Sherry likes her... uh... toys." Michael thought.

...

The next thing Michael looked at was a tall oak wardrobe with drawers on the bottom. He formed a mischievous smile.

"This is what I've been waiting for~" Michael thought.

He pulled the doors open, and peeked inside.

"Well that's a letdown!" Michael thought.

Much to his disappointment, every last outfit in the wardrobe was the exact same thing. It was a sexy dark knight uniform, identical to what she had worn when they first met. Her particular sweet scent wafted from the clothes.

"It smells like her though, and that's nice." Michael thought.

He closed the wardrobe doors, and bent down to peek in the drawers. Sure enough, they had all the ladies undergarments a pervert like Michael could ever want.

"Score~" Michael thought.

He pulled out one of her bras, and held it up in the light.

"Nope. This doesn't fit anymore. Not a snowball's chance in hell. But maaaaaaan I'd love to see her try to squeeze into it! She'd be bulging out the top and bottom~" Michael thought.

He put the bra back, and pulled out a pair of panties.

"Not a chance these would fit either. She's got those wide hips and thicc booty now. Even more than she had to begin with." Michael thought.

...

"Now I know where to go if I need to re-enact that scene from Weird Science." Michael thought, chuckling.

...

"Heh... Now that I think about it, Sherry would make a pretty convincing Lisa. Magic and all." Michael thought.

He put the underwear back how he found it, and slid the drawer shut.

...

His eyes were naturally drawn to the magical lamp illuminating the room. It glowed with a cool white light, without any flame or other signs of a fuel source. There were three raised bumps on the front of the lantern, which Michael casually brushed with his fingertips.

*flick

The light changed hue. Michael touched the bump again, and it changed to yet another hue.

"Well sunny beaches. It's medieval RGB lighting." Michael remarked.

He tried one of the other bumps, and it changed the brightness. Then he tried the third bump, and it defaulted to a low intensity red light.

"Whoa~... I found the Red Light District setting. Figures an inma lantern would have a dedicated button for that." Michael quipped.

...

The next thing Michael looked at was a large table mounted display case, located directly below the lantern. He didn't need to open anything to see what was on display. It was a long sword of intricate design.

"That's no demon realm sword." Michael thought.

*Click Click

He undid a couple of clasps and lifted the lid on the display case. The blade was beautiful, with inlays of gold and pearl. The guard looked like splayed out leaves, and the blade had magic writing on it.

"Is this the blade she carried when she was an Order hero?" Michael thought.

He reached for the grip... but hesitated half way there.

"Hmm... I'd better not. It's one thing to peek at her underwear, but this obviously has sentimental value to her. I should respect that." Michael thought.

He closed the lid again, and latched it shut.

"Maybe we'll do a photo op of her in her original equipment, but completely lewded out. I bet that would make a great middle finger frack you to the Order zealots." Michael thought.

...

*Knockknockknock

"Lord Collins, your bath is ready~" The little maid called.

"Alright, I'll be right there~" Michael called.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael found himself being lead by the maid into a large steamy room. The bath "room" was actually a whole room, with the tub itself taking a prominent place in the floor. Much to Michael's surprise, there was actual plumbing in that whole-room bathroom. The tub was lined with stone, and was filled to the brim with pleasant steamy water.

"That's no bath, that's a damn swimming pool! They must need it for some of the bigger species of inma. A centaur or lamia could totally fit, no problem." Michael thought.

"If I may take your clothes, I'll have them cleaned for you Lord Collins." The little maid said.

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Michael said.

The maid turned around respectfully, and Michael stripped down to his birthday suit. Then he slipped into the water, and the maid took his clothes and left.

"Ahhhhh... hallelujah~ This is niiiiiiiice~" Michael sighed.

The magic waters made him close his eyes and hum in contentment, relaxing him to levels he had never experienced before.

...

..

*Splash

.

*Scrub...scrub...scrub

"Tehehehe~"

.

*Rub rub rub

..

*Splish

...

Michael slowly opened his eyes, noticing something had changed. Where he had been completely alone what seemed like moments before, suddenly he found himself surrounded by four hotties in bikinis. They were scrubbing his body with the same kind of magic soap that Sherry so often used back home. It made his brain fizzle like pop rocks.

"Whoa~ Where'd you ladies come from~?" Michael asked slowly, eyes lidded.

The girls all giggled.

"We've been here for a while now Lord Collins."

"We're maids here at the mansion."

"Don't worry about a thing sire, we'll take good care of you until you're completely satisfied~"

"Woo hoo~" Michael cheered lightly, eyes lidded.

And so they sensually scrubbed his body from head to toe, shamelessly and lewdly touching him all over to get every square inch of his body clean. All while pressing their bodies against him, smooching him on the cheek, and giggling in his ear. It was all very stimulating. If Michael had been right in his head at that moment... he would most certainly have asked them to leave. But being as relaxed as he was, he just let it happen. As it turned out, nothing bad happened in the slightest. No psycho inma tried to kidnap him. Nobody tried to reverse rape him. He just had a bath and got clean in a very fun way. And the maids seemed to enjoy getting the chance to peek, so it was a win win for everyone.

...

~Later~

...

Michael was soon escorted out of the bath, given back his freshly cleaned clothes, and escorted to another part of the mansion by that little maid from earlier. She brought him to a small table next to a very large bay window overlooking the city.

"Here you go sire, please relax and make yourself comfortable." The little maid said kindly.

She pulled a chair out for him, and he sat down. His eyes raked across the spread of food laid out before him.

"This... is a nice! Thank you! I don't know where to start!" Michael exclaimed.

"I'm happy you're pleased sire. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask." The maid said.

...

"No, I think you have everything taken care of already. Thank you." Michael said graciously.

And with that, the maid left him alone to eat in peace. He didn't start eating at first. His eyes raked around the eerily familiar place he found himself sitting. It was an alcove, just off of a hallway, with the aforementioned bay window. The table was a table for two, but with only Michael by his lonesome.

"This... is the place Sherry wanted to take me. We were supposed to be here as a couple." Michael thought.

...

"It's almost like I've betrayed her. Where is she? Is she safe? Is she thinking about me?" Michael thought, dejected.

...

"When we see each other again after all this, I won't tell her that I was here. I'll just forget everything I've seen, and focus on our date like we planned. We'll have that bottle of wine, and it'll be great." Michael thought.

He raised his goblet of wine, and gestured with it towards the empty chair across from him.

"To next time. I miss you Sherry." Michael thought.

*Siiiiiip

He ate his dinner in peace, while looking out towards the city. It was just as peaceful down there as it was in the mansion, and it brought Michael a great deal of relief. He would have felt bad if he were relaxing in the safety of the mansion while people were fighting.

"If the fighting picks up, I'll run down there and join them. For sure." Michael thought.

...

..

.

After dinner, Michael found himself back in Sherry's quarters. Just before flopping into bed, Michael had a bit of a paranoid streak.

"I'd better check for stragglers. You know... devil bugs under the bed and that sort of thing." Michael thought.

Pulling a bright LED flashlight from his cargo pocket, he got down on his knees by the bed. Nothing was hiding underneath, not even dust. Then he peeked into the wardrobe. Nothing. So he took the chair from the desk, jammed it under the door knob, locked the window, and flopped into bed. He didn't even bother taking his clothes off.

...

~Late That Night~

...

*ZZZzzzZZZzzz

Michael was sound asleep and snoring like crazy. He fallen asleep secure in the knowledge that all the entrances were locked, but he had forgotten to take two things into account. Number one, he was in a world of high fantasy and magic which had a different set of physics. And number two, the lewd creatures that lived there became stronger at night.

...

A shadow appeared in his room. It floated through the air, a shadow among shadows, straight towards the canopy bed. When it got there, the shadow hovered over Michael's sleeping form.

*Ziiiiiiiiiiip

Slowly, very carefully, the shadow began undoing Michael's pants. Unbeknownst to the invading presence, Michael was sleeping lightly that night.

*CLICK!

Michael's bright LED flightlight clicked on, illuminating his uninvited guest.

"Bright! Light! Noooo! Turn it off! My power is fading!" Christine cried.

*POMF!

She fell out of the air, and landed on top of Michael.

"Oh look, the psycho hose beast has appeared." Michael said dryly.

"Uh... hi dahling. Fancy meeting you here. Well since we're both in bed, let's get married!" Christine suggested.

"Ugh. How'd you get out of that pit?" Michael grumbled.

"Those tentacles don't provide me pleasure anymore. But you would~" Christine said.

Michael grumbled again, and pushed her off. As long as he kept his flashlight on her, she was no more powerful than a normal human woman. He grabbed his boots and made for the door.

"Wait! We haven't had our pillow talk yet!" Christine cried.

*CLICK

The door shut behind him, leaving Christine alone in the darkness.

...

~A Few Minutes Later~

...

Michael quickly left the mansion, disappearing into the night time streets of Lescatie.

"If I can't sleep in peace in the mansion, then I'll sleep in the Duster. At least I know I can roll the windows up and lock the doors. Maybe the rubber door seals will keep her out. Shit... I hope she doesn't know the teleportation spell." Michael thought.

He didn't get far from the mansion before a dense fog suddenly rolled in. It was so abrupt, Michael instantly knew it wasn't natural.

"I wonder if she did that. It's said vampires can create fog." Michael thought.

Michael kept walking, hoping that there wasn't a jump scare waiting for him. In the distance, he heard a voice call out to him.

"Dahling? Where are you dahling? Please wait for me, I only want to be close to you." Christine called distantly.

Michael began to move faster. Suddenly, he heard a new sound that he had never expected in a hundred years. The sound of dogs pursuing him. Their yapping sent a chill down his spine.

"Go my lovelies, find dahling! Find my lover, and call out in your beautiful voices when you do!" Christine called distantly.

"SHIT! Vampires can control animals!" Michael thought.

*BARK

*BARK BARK

*HOOOOOOOOOWL!

Michael broke into a run, his boots thudding against the ground as he peeled across Lescatie in a mad rush to get back to his Duster. The barking was getting closer and closer behind him, their howls making his heart tremble in fear. He rounded a corner that was within a couple blocks of the Duster, and he thought he was home free. But something nipped the back of his right leg, right on the Achilles tendon. He went down, face planting perfectly onto the stone road. That's when the pack of dogs pounced on him.

"Ahh hahah hhhahahaahhaha!" Michael laughed.

The dogs were not huge burly guard dogs at all, but normal family-friendly breeds of dog. Some were small, and some were large, and they were all harmless. Michael tried to get up, but they gently latched onto his cloths and pulled him back down again. They were all panting and wagging their tails, and nuzzling him in a friendly manner. One large dog decided to plop it's furry butt directly on Michael's chest to keep him pinned.

...

Michael saw a dark shape coming closer in the fog.

*HOOOOOOOWLLLL!

A shiver went through Michael's heart once again. That howl he had heard earlier hadn't been the dogs. It was something else. And that something else was coming closer.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRR!

All the dogs scattered on cue, leaving Michael alone with that ominous figure. It was a massive black wolf, it's white teeth glinting in the dim light. Michael moved, and it immediately growled at him. It stared deeply into his eyes...

"Okay Balto, I see how it is! You'll maim me, but I'm taking you with me!" Michael spat.

*ClickCLACK

He drew his Beretta and racked the slide.

*POOF

The wolf disappeared in a puff of smoke, and was replaced with Christine. She was smiling, mirroring the ferocious grin her wolf form had worn.

"You cannot escape dahling. My power is greatest at the witching hour, while yours grows weak." Christine said.

*rattttttle

Michael glanced down to see his right hand shaking and his pistol rattling. The pistol slowly lowered against his will.

"What's... happening?" Michael forced.

"Look into my eyes dahling~" Christine said.

He couldn't help himself. The moment she said it, his eyes flicked up to hers.

! ! !

Michael couldn't look away from her slate grey eyes, no matter how hard he tried.

"That's it dahling, look deeply into my eyes~" Christine said hypnotically.

She smoothly drifted closer. He could see joy in her eyes from how they smiled at him. But he could also see madness, lust, need, fanatical desire in her eyes.

"You don't want to look away from my eyes. You want to do everything I tell you to do. You want to obey~" Christine said hypnotically.

"I...want...to...obey..." Michael murmured distantly.

"You are only human, and it's natural to flee what you fear. So I take away your fear. You will not fear me. You will not run away from me. You are under my compete control, and you do not need fear." Christine said.

...

"You're going to become my husband tonight. You'll fall in love with me as much as I've fallen in love with you. You'll be happy." Christine said hypnotically.

...

..

*SNAP!

"NO! I BELONG TO HER!" Michael bellowed suddenly.

"You broke the spell! AGAIN!" Christine exclaimed, shocked.

Christine didn't know it, but Michael had already been pre conditioned to only be faithful to Sherry. A casual command 'you belong to her', given by the mindflayer back home, would have far reaching implications. While vampires had powerful hypnotic magic, a dhampir was only half as good. And vampires were nothing compared to a mindflayer. So Christine ended up giving him conflicting commands, which drove him into a frenzy.

"BELONG TO HER! BELONG TO HER! BELONGTOHERBELONGTOHERBELONGTOHER!" Michael jabbered.

He flailed at her wildly, forcing her to protect her own head.

"What in the name of fuck is going on out here?"

A nearby house door opened up to reveal a very displeased looking demon. She was yawning and donning a quick nighty so she could check on the shouting outside her bedroom window.

"RAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Michael roared.

"EEEP!" Christine squeaked.

Michael picked Christine up, hefted her high in the air, and threw her at the demon.

*THUD!

Then he ran for his life while shouting incoherently.

"Dahling, wait!" Christine cried.

*SNAG

"Oh would you look at what we have here~ A delectable... human woman... hmmmm...~" The demon cooed, licking her lips.

"What? But I'm not a..." Christine tried to say.

*GLORP!

The demon squeezed Christine in squishy boob-filled hug.

"I haven't had a human woman to play with for YEARS! We're going to have SO MUCH FUN!" The demon exclaimed.

"Nooooooooooo~" Christine wailed, muffled.

The door to the demon's house slammed shut. Lewd squishy noises and pleasured mewls began to emanate from the demon's house.

...

~Meanwhile~

...

Michael ripped the door to the Duster open, dove inside, and slammed it behind him. He frantically pushed down all the door lock buttons, and rolled up the windows.

...

..

He was shaking violently, too violently to even take a drink of water.

"Sherry..." Michael whimpered.

He began to rock back and forth, his whole body shaking. His Beretta smacked against the side of his head repeatedly.

"Sherry Sherry Sherry Sherry Sherry..." Michael sobbed.

.

.

The Next Morning

.

.

Much to his displeasure, Michael was awoken early the next morning by indistinct loud noises. He had a throbbing headache, and his whole body felt creaky and dried out.

*thud

*thudthud

*CRACK!

Michael's eyes flicked open just in time to see the driver side window of the Duster get smashed open.

*SHATTER!

Tempered glass flew everywhere, covering Michael in little square chunks. An arm reached in, and grabbed the AK74 that was on the driver seat.

"I got it! I GOT IT!" A woman shouted.

With the window broken, the sound of metal on metal clanging could be heard outside. Michael sat upright, looking through bleary eyes out the rear window.

"What's going on?" Michael murmured.

*CLANGCLANG

"HOLD! HOLD THE LINE!"

A massive battle was happening right outside the Duster. Order soldiers were pouring through a breech in the wall. One of the dark knights had Michael's AK, and was frantically trying to figure out how to use it.

"Shit!" Michael spat.

In as bad a shape as he was, Michael still forced his aching body out of the Duster. He crawled over the broken glass, stumbled out the door, and rushed to that dark knight.

"Lord Collins! Help us!" The dark knight cried.

She practically threw that AK at him, while hefting her sword and swinging at an Order knight that rushed them.

*CRACK!

Michael smashed the buttstock against some bum rushing conscript's head, racked the charging handle, and let loose a hail of 5.45. The back pressure of the muzzle blasts didn't help his throbbing head, but it wasn't the time to complain.

"Regain the wall! Hurry!"

"They're losing the initiative!"

With Michael's help, the dark knights were able to repel the invaders and regain the wall. They hurried to repair the damage.

"What the hell happened?" Michael asked.

"Lord Collins! Your timing was quite fortunate! The Order launched an early morning magic attack, and destroyed this section of wall! If you hadn't have arrived when you did, the city would be in grave danger!" The dark knight explained.

"I'm glad I was able to help. Is there anything else I can do?" Michael asked.

"No sire, the masons will have this wall rebuilt in no time!" The dark knight explained.

*TSSSS!

"Owie! It burns!" A mason exclaimed.

Michael and the dark knight both turned, looking towards the damaged section of the wall. The masons and brick layers were trying to clear out the rubble, but they got burned each time they touched it.

"Stop! The order has cursed these stones!"

"How are we supposed to fix the wall if we can't touch it?"

"What if we used a tool?"

One of the girls swung a shovel at a pile of rubble.

*TSSSS!

"Ow! Now my shovel burns too!"

"This isn't good." Michael murmured.

He moved into the gap and knelt down by one of the piles of rubble. Reaching out with his pinky, he tried touching the pile to see if the curse would affect him the same way.

*TSSSS!

"Ouch, damn it!" Michael hissed.

"What a dastardly spell! Anything with even a little demonic energy in it gets burned! Even a human!" A dark knight reasoned.

"And now we have a twenty foot wide gaping hole in our defenses." Michael noted.

He looked up towards the intact section of the wall. Several guards were looking down at them.

"Hey up there! Do you see anything coming our way?" Michael called.

"No sire! There's nary a soul! The Order seems to be retreating!" The dark knight lookout called.

"Keep your eyes open! They'd be idiots if they didn't attack right here! And soon!" Michael called.

Right around then is when Michael noticed Druella entering the area.

"Druella! We've got a problem!" Michael exclaimed.

"I see that! What happened?" Druella asked.

Michael spent a few moments getting Druella up to speed. Even she tried touching the stones, and it burned her too.

...

..

.

"They're sure to attack at any minute! We need to be ready!" Michael said.

"Agreed! I shall linger nearby, just in case." Druella said.

She paused, looking Michael over.

"You look positively awful Lord Collins. Didn't you get any sleep?" Druella asked.

"A little I think. Maybe an hour." Michael said.

"You weren't in your room this morning." Druella noted.

"It's a long story." Michael said.

...

"Mistress! There's something strange happening!" A dark knight lookout called.

Michael and Druella both hurried up the stairs to the top of the wall, and looked out towards the field of battle.

"What do you see dear?" Druella asked.

"I'm not sure. Look out there, towards that field of bodies." The dark knight said.

...

They all watched silently, looking for anything strange.

*PLOP

Way out in the middle of the battlefield, an abandoned spear fell over. It had been stabbed into the ground during one of the previous battles, and all of a sudden it decided to fall over on its own.

"What the hell...?" Michael muttered.

"That is peculiar." Druella remarked.

He turned and ran down the stairs, leaving Druella and the knight to continue looking out towards the otherwise empty battlefield.

"I sense some sort of impending doom, but I can't put my finger on it." Druella murmured.

Michael pounded back up the stairs, carrying a pair of binoculars and his FLIR.

"This device again? Surely you do not believe they can make an entire ARMY unseeable?" Druella asked.

"I make no assumptions." Michael said flatly.

He brought his binoculars up to his eyes, and looked out towards the no-man's-land.

...

..

*Splish!

He saw a puddle randomly splash, as if someone stepped in it.

"Son of a..." Michael spat.

He picked up his FLIR, and looked through it.

.

.

.

"Well? Do they send more spies?" Druella asked.

Michael lowered his scope, and slowly turned his head towards Druella. His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"There's thousands out there!" Michael exclaimed, frightened.

Druella snatched away his FLIR and brought it up to her own eye.

*Gasp!

"TO ARMS! THE ORDER APPROACHES!" Druella cried.

The dark knights looked at Druella as if she were crazy.

"I said TO ARMS!" Druella cried.

To emphasize her point, Michael raised his rifle and started shooting. He didn't even need to aim, there were that many Order soldiers heading their way. Fresh dead bodies began appearing in the field.

"Fire a volley of arrows!" Druella commanded.

"What do we aim at mistress?" A dark knight asked.

*FWOOOOOSH!

The whole army appeared at once, at least ten thousand strong.

"THAT!" Druella exclaimed.

And so, the battle that would end all battles began at the city of Lescatie. With the wall penetrated, the Order focused the entirety of their remaining forces on that one spot. Everyone was at play there, with Druella and Michael fighting side by side with all the mages and all the dark knights. Citizens assembled, wielding anything they had which could be used as a weapon. They weren't even a fraction of the way through the enemy before Michael finally ran his entire supply of 7n6 dry. Shortly later, he ran out of 12 gauge. And with no other choice, Michael took up a short sword with one hand and a Beretta in the other. The bang and the clang and the roar of battle beat upon their ears, punctuated by the occasional blast of a 9mm.

...

As powerful and determined as they were, the monster girls couldn't hope to hold back the sheer numbers of Order soldiers. They marched into the city, their rank and file in perfect cadence. People were falling, despite everything they did to watch each other's backs. Magical blasts rained down on them, wiping out countless brave inma. Druella's eyes surveyed the quickly degrading situation. To her right, Michael was locked sword to sword with an Order knight. To her left, her mages were busy pulling Order arrows out of each other. To her front, Order soldiers crawled over their own dead companions to get at Druella. Each one was swatted away like flies. They weren't the real threat after all, the real threat was out there somewhere. The real threat... was the one who was attacking them with magic.

"AAARRRRGH!" Michael cried.

Druella turned and saw Michael collapse, a bloody gash on his leg. His attacker was already dead, having been shot in the face with Michael's Beretta. The slide was locked back. He was out of ammo.

"Mistress! Save us!" A dark knight pleaded.

...

Just then, the ground began to shake. A loud voice boomed out onto the battlefield, echoing off the mountains and valleys.

"You DARE touch my sweetie? You all shall suffer the punishment of the damned!" Sherry boomed.

*CLICK CLICK

Sherry appeared from above, sword in hand, blocking the Order from approaching either Michael or Druella.

*FLICK

She flicked her wrist, and a thousand order soldiers were instantly cut down. Raising her sword over her head, she shouted a war cry and slashed the blade at the ground. A massive gaping canyon of fire shot across the valley, splitting the Order army in two.

"Cover your eyes Michael!" Druella cried.

"But..." Michael tried to say.

"Do as I say! NOW!" Druella cried.

Michael raised his left arm, and just barely covered his eyes in time.

*BOOOOOMWHOOOSHHISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

A wave of heat washed over Michael's body, his skin burning as if he were directly in front of a raging bonfire. He could hear agonized screaming from thousands of terrified voices. And then... silence.

...

When Michael uncovered his eyes again, all that remained of the Order army was a field of burned corpses. The smell of burned flesh permeated the area. Those few who survived were being turned into confetti by a convoy of armored vehicles with machine guns. At long last... help had arrived.

"WHOOO HOOO! Three cheers for knight Searraigh!"

"Sea-rraigh! Sea-rraigh! Sea-rraigh!"

Michael wasn't cheering. He was doubled over, trying not to puke out his spleen.

...

..

Searraigh's triumphant return was just the turning point that the defenders needed. Her destructive magic could be matched by no other, not even Druella. And those armored vehicles, commanded by no other than Specialist Stavish, were the cherry on top. The Order was completely, utterly, and definitively routed. Thus ended the second battle of Lescatie.

..

...

After Sherry was done destroying every trace of the Order in her home, she entered the city in search of Michael. She had seen him just briefly, just as he had been wounded by that one Order knight. The dark knights knew exactly what she wanted, and they pointed the way.

"He's over there knight Searraigh."

"Keep going knight Searraigh, you're almost there."

...

She found him sitting on someone's porch, his head between his legs, and a canteen of water limply hanging from his fingers. He was a frightful mess. Filthy, bloody, and a patch of hair missing from his head that some ambitious Order conscript had ripped out. There were tracks in the soot on his face, where the sweat had ran down his cheeks.

"Sweetie!" Sherry cried.

Michael looked up, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve. She was practically flying at him with her arms outstretched. They hugged, squeezing each other tightly.

"What took you so long? We couldn't hold out any longer!" Michael choked.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm so sorry." Sherry choked.

With tears in her eyes, Sherry pulled away and rubbed her hand on Michael's sooty face and hands.

*Niiiirow

The dirt and grime all fell off like water off a duck's back. She then laid her hand on the bleeding wound on his leg, which stitched itself together by magic. A small crowd of people formed around the duo, cooing in awe at seeing a couple reunited. Druella was one of the crowd.

"Mistress! Is my room..." Sherry started to say.

"It's still yours. Go forth with my blessing!" Druella said happily.

"Thank you mistress!" Sherry cheered.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

*POMF

Michael found himself flat on his back, laying on the bed in Sherry's room. And as expected, his clothes were missing.

*SMOOOOCH!

Sherry jabbed her tongue in his mouth, completely forgoing any semblance of trying to be gentle. She kissed him wetly a few times, then paused.

"Hmmm?" Sherry hummed.

Her eyebrow shot up.

...

"Is something wro..." Michael started to ask.

She cut off his words with another kiss. Michael didn't know it at the time, but Sherry had immediately detected the taste of another inma.

...

After kissing a while, Michael started to get anxious.

"Sherry... I can't... wait any longer..." Michael said between kisses.

She pulled away, wiping her mouth.

"Neither can I. Hold on tight, because I shan't let you go for at least as many days as you've been missing!" Sherry said lustfully.

She repositioned herself to be in that wonderful straddle position. He watched, his arms behind his head, as Sherry squished their hips together.

"EEEEP!" Sherry squeaked.

"Did you just cum instantly?" Michael asked, smiling.

"Yeesssh~" Sherry slurred.

*Plap Plap Plap

She rocked her hips, smacking flesh against flesh.

"I near went mad with lust while you were gone! I wanted your dick so badly!" Sherry cried.

*PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP

She put her whole body into it, smashing her hips against him forcefully, lashing out with the power of her lust. Her voice screamed out her love and desire, as she climaxed over and over again.

...

The Next Morning

...

"Oh yes! Yes sweetie! Fuck me harder!" Sherry cried.

...

The Next Morning

...

*Gasp

"More! More! MORE!" Sherry cried.

...

The Next Morning

...

"You're so delicious! I can't stop myself!" Sherry blubbered.

...

..

.

.

.

One Week Later

.

..

...

Michael and Sherry awoke in each other's arms, cuddling warmly on that luxurious canopy bed. They hadn't left her room at all, or seen or talked to anyone, the entire time they had been together. It had been one long continuous fuck fest, interspaced with brief breaks before lashing out lustfully at each other once again. And it was hardly one sided either. After everything that happened to Michael, he had quite a lot of pent up sexual frustration.

"I think that was the best sex we ever had." Michael murmured.

"Indeed sweetie~" Sherry hummed contently.

She leaned forward and kissed him again. He kissed her right back. That simple smooch soon turned into full blown French kissing. Which then proceeded into touching.

*Hissss

Michael took a sharp breath, his eyelids fluttering as a spike of pleasure shot into his brain.

"Ohhhh... you're so sensitive. I love it~" Sherry cooed.

*Nibble

*Lick

Sherry teased him with love bites and her swirling tongue.

"Let's fall together sweetie. You and me. Let's fall into obscenity, and delight ourselves with each other's bodies." Sherry whispered hotly.

"We need to go outside eventually." Michael whispered.

"We can fuck there too. Right in the market square. Or right at the foot of Druella's throne. Let's do it sweetie. Let's show them how much we love each other." Sherry said.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Sherry and Michael wound up somewhere else. It didn't matter where, it only mattered that they were rutting like wild animals. Michael wasn't coherent enough to even recognize where he was anyways. But sure enough, they had an audience.

"Wonderful! I approve!" Druella remarked.

"They're really going at it. They must love each other very much."

"Wow... and he's human? I would have certainly wagered he's an incubus from how he's plowing her."

"I wonder if they're all like that from his world."

"If that's true, I'd gallop through an army of Order knights to get there."

...

"Hey! I brought drinks!"

"Good! I think they're going to go for a while yet!"

"She's showing off! Look at him fuck her silly!"

"That's baby making sex if I've ever seen it."

"He was so salty before, but I suppose he's a good man if he's willing to go that far."

"I have a great idea! Let's start an orgy! Everyone go get your husbands, and let's have some fun!"

...

~A Few Hours Later~

...

*POMF

Michael found himself pushed back down onto that nice canopy bed in Sherry's room.

"That was fun! We should do that again someday." Sherry said.

Several ticks of the clock ticked by.

"What... did we just do? We didn't actually..." Michael started.

"We did~" Sherry said cheerfully.

Michael put his hands on his face and groaned.

"Hey! Don't feel shame sweetie. That ruins the afterglow." Sherry chastised lightly.

She gently pulled his hands away from his face, and peered lovingly into his eyes. Michael's brain just refused to push the issue any further. For some reason, it didn't seem worth the effort.

...

..

.

"What do you wish to do today sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"I should check on the Duster, and I want to go check on a couple of friends I made." Michael said.

"Hmm~ You simply must tell me all about it~" Sherry hummed.

Sherry slid off of Michael and slung her legs off the bed. She sashayed over to the window, and peered outside.

"You going naked?" Michael asked.

"Why not? We just fucked in the middle of the city, under the eyes of mistress Druella." Sherry said casually.

Michael snatched up her clothes and lightly threw them at her lewdly grinning face.

"Put something on you pervert~" Michael chuckled.

"As you wish~" Sherry giggled.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

When Michael and Sherry got to the Duster, it seemed unharmed. He breathed a sigh of relief as it came into view. Sherry instinctually rounded the car to the passenger side as Michael unlocked the driver door. He saw her pause near the passenger quarter panel.

"Um... sweetie?" Sherry called.

She was looking downwards at the car.

"Oh no. Don't tell me." Michael said, wincing.

He rounded the car. There was an Order arrow sticking out of the tire.

"You rat bastards! That's twice now!" Michael exclaimed.

"Twice now? Do I even want to ask?" Sherry said.

"No... well... maybe." Michael muttered.

Sherry bent over and pulled the arrow out.

"I wonder if we could use magic to fix the hole." Sherry mused.

"That'd be great if you could. I've got the other flat in the trunk." Michael said.

Sherry placed her dainty finger over the hole, and cast a small spell.

*Nirrow

*POPFwooooosh

"Darn it." Sherry said.

...

..

.

Sherry noticed Michael giving her a funny stare.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Sherry asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out how you can be powerful enough to destroy an entire army, but you can't fix a hole in a tire." Michael said.

"That's simple. My affinity is for destruction magic. Even mistress Druella cannot match my power in this regard." Sherry said.

"Huh... okay." Michael said.

"Basically... I make holes. I don't fix holes. Druella on the other hand, her affinity is for nymphomancy." Sherry added.

"Figured as much. She deals with holes of an entirely different nature." Michael nodded.

He sighed, flicking the tire with his finger.

"I guess we're not mobile for a while. At least until I can get a tire or two." Michael said.

"And I notice a great deal of broken glass. Care to explain that?" Sherry asked.

"One of the dark knights broke the window to get at my AK. It was an emergency, so I'm not mad about it. I'll replace it when we get home." Michael explained.

...

With the Duster issue shelved, Michael turned his eyes towards the wall. The breach in the wall had been repaired quite expertly. In fact, all damage to the wall had been repaired besides the breech. Unless someone knew where to look, there was no sign that anything had ever happened. His eyes then turned towards the stairs leading up to the wall.

"I... need to see." Michael thought.

He found himself walking towards the stone stairs, with Sherry following close behind. When he got to the top, the guards acknowledged him with a polite nod.

"Sweetie?" Sherry questioned.

He found himself peering over the wall towards the battlefield.

"They... wow... you can't even tell there was a battle." Michael remarked.

It was an empty grass field. There wasn't a single sign of there ever having been a battle, except for the torn up grass. Michael could see a few inma wandering around out there, but that was about it.

"What'd they do with all the bodies?" Michael asked.

"Oh, I suppose they sent them to the other cities. To become husbands." Sherry said casually.

Michael slowly turned his head, his eye twitching.

"They screw dead people?!" Michael asked quietly, disgusted.

"Well of course not! First they send in the necromancer battalion..." Sherry started.

*THUD

Michael dropped to his knees.

"Sweetie! What... wait..." Sherry paused.

...

"Did you think we were actually killing them for real?!" Sherry asked, shocked.

"YES!" Michael warbled.

All the conflict and horror of the previous few days finally came crashing home for poor Michael. He had chosen to bravely stand up and fight, not only to protect himself but to protect all those people around him. What he had seen in a short few days was the most traumatic thing he had ever seen. But all of a sudden it was all gone. All the dead people we magically not dead anymore. It was too much of a shock.

"It's okay sweetie! Everything's going to be just fine now! I promise!" Sherry reassured.

She hugged his shaking body, whispering soothing words in his ear. The dark knights and others who happened to all be standing nearby also repeated Sherry's words.

"Don't weep lord Collins, you saved all our lives!"

"Yeah! You're a hero, lord Collins!"

"There's no shame in it!"

...

"I wish I had known. I wish... I wish I had known." Michael murmured.

...

..

.

"Sir?"

Michael looked up from Sherry's warm embrace to see the welcome sight of Specialist Stavish standing at the head of the stairs up to the wall.

"You're okay?" Michael whispered in awe.

"Yes sir. The mistress put me back together again. What's wrong with you though? You look like hell." Stavish asked.

Sherry helped Michael to his feet. Meanwhile, the dark knights began murmuring.

"Is that a dark knight from the other world?"

"She looks rather strange."

"What's with the restrictive clothing?"

...

"A moment please, sir?" Stavish said.

Michael and Stavish walked away from everyone else, and had a brief discussion.

...

When they came back, Michael's entire bearing and mood was completely different.

"What did she say to you sweetie?" Sherry asked.

"A bunch of stuff. But it all boils down to... 'You did a good job, so stop being a sniveling child and move on'." Michael said.

Sherry crossed her arms, none too pleased. Stavish shrugged.

"I see she is as cold and blunt as always." Sherry said, frowning.

"Maybe she is, but she's absolutely right." Michael said.

"Thank you sir." Stavish said.

Stavish had put things into perspective for Michael. He asked himself, how could he mope around and feel bad after two days when Stavish had been through the meat grinder over in the middle east time and time again? Nobody saw her being all sad and pitiful. She shut up, stood up, and did her job. So it was time for Michael to do the same.

"We don't cry for the enemy. We blow the bastards straight to hell, and piss on their graves." Michael said firmly.

"Hooah!" Stavish exclaimed.

...

Michael coughed and cleared his throat

"Report, specialist." Michael said.

"The area is secure. We found a few roving bands of them, around two hundred to five hundred in each. They were eliminated with zero casualties of our own." Stavish said.

"Good work. Anything else?" Michael asked.

"We've set up base camp two hundred yards outside the city on the east side. We're working on setting up a helipad for a bird we managed to get through the portal. We should have regular air lifts starting within the day." Stavish said.

"That's good news. Thank you." Michael said.

...

"...Thanks for the law tube, and all the grenades. You saved our lives by stashing that in my trunk. I used all of it." Michael said.

"All of it sir?" Stavish asked.

"Everything. Including every single round of 7n6, 12 gauge, and 9mm." Michael confirmed.

Stavish raised an eyebrow in surprise. She knew Michael had the skills to not waste ammo. Which meant every round he fired had actually hit something. And she knew exactly how much ammo she had put in his car. Thus, Stavish was able to instantly grasp the scale of the battle that Michael had taken part in.

"You were right by the way. The LAW makes a great anti personnel tool. I lobbed that thing right into their camp, it was beautiful~" Michael remarked.

...

Stavish reached down and pulled a couple of pistol magazines from her own load bearing vest, and offered them to Michael.

"Here sir, just so you have something." Stavish said.

"Thanks." Michael said.

He took the magazines, drew his Beretta, and slapped one of them home. Then he racked the slide, and flicked it onto SAFE.

"I feel better already." Michael said, smiling.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Michael and Sherry found themselves walking through the city once again, arm in arm as usual.

"What actually happened here? Everyone says you were brave, yet nobody has said what you actually did." Sherry asked.

"I didn't do anything." Michael said quietly.

...

Sherry looked at him with a sad face.

"I wish I had been here. I'm so sorry sweetie. You should never have been asked to fight." Sherry said mournfully.

"Nobody asked me. I did it all on my own." Michael said firmly.

...

"Where are we going?" Sherry asked.

"To the north side." Michael said.

"The... warehouse district? Whatever for?" Sherry asked.

"They set up the emergency hospital there. I want to check up on a couple of people." Michael said.

...

..

.

Michael knew the way like the back of his hand, and they were standing at the door to the hospital before too long. The unicorn was right near the entrance, just like before.

"Lord Collins! You honor me with your presence!" The unicorn exclaimed.

She did a little curtsy, which seemed a little awkward with her horse like lower body. Sherry stood silently in the background, mouthing the title 'Lord Collins' in confusion.

"Hey, good to see ya again." Michael said cheerfully.

He stepped into the hospital, and skidded to a stop. There wasn't a single patient.

"Where'd all the people go?!" Michael cried.

"Oh, well most of them were sent home. They recovered." The unicorn said.

"That fast?" Michael asked, surprised.

"Indeed! Your wondrous medicines were super effective! We didn't lose a single plague patient after we began using it!" The unicorn said cheerfully.

"Plague?!" Sherry exclaimed.

Michael waved her off.

"What about the wounded? There was a little witch girl in here. Did she make it?" Michael asked.

"Yes sire. I am told she is now recovering at home with her husband." The unicorn said.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

"However, the guard captain you were speaking with that night... didn't make it." The unicorn added.

Michael's eyes downturned.

...

..

.

"She's on the list to be revived by a necromancer, but they are very busy at the moment. It will likely be a long time." The unicorn added.

"GUH!" Michael grunted.

Sherry began chuckling.

"Sweetie isn't quite used to the concept of a necromancer yet." Sherry said.

"Oh! I'm sorry sire! I didn't mean to imply..." The unicorn exclaimed.

"It's alright. But I have a question if you don't mind. How come you couldn't use necromancers for the plague victims?" Michael asked.

"...because they would be revived into a sick body, and immediately die again." The unicorn said reluctantly.

"It's exceedingly difficult to revive a victim of disease sweetie. Sometimes, their old body must be entirely destroyed and replaced with a new one, and that is EXCEEDINGLY difficult." Sherry explained.

"How difficult?" Michael asked.

Sherry and the unicorn looked at each other.

"Well... he or she would have to be born and grow up again." The unicorn said.

"Oh...shit..." Michael muttered.

"Indeed. And consider this... inma cannot birth males. So let your mind ponder that a while." Sherry said.

...

..

.

Michael found himself sitting on a stone bench in the middle of a small park, with Sherry standing before him. Her hands were on her hips, and she wasn't happy.

"How could you be so foolish? Have you no brain at all? How could you allow yourself to be exposed to the plague!?" Sherry asked angrily.

"I'm sorry, but I had to give them medicine so they could save those people. What if it had been me? Wouldn't you have wanted someone to help?" Michael suggested calmly.

In a complete reversal of her body language from a few moments before, Sherry fell to her knees in front of him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Are you trying to tell me something? Are you going to get sick?" Sherry warbled.

She clutched his hands tightly.

"I don't know anything about medicine! Please... tell me... I won't yell." Sherry pleaded.

"I decontaminated myself after I left the hospital!" Michael reassured frantically.

"But are you going to get sick?! What's decontamination? Sweeeeeeeetttttiiiieeeee!" Sherry wailed.

"Decontamination is when you wash yourself to prevent getting infected." Michael explained.

...

"Look, you see? Right there, at that well! I had someone throw whole buckets at me!" Michael explained.

Michael hopped up and walked over to the well in question. As they walked over, Michael quickly explained what decontamination was.

...

"I suppose... after hearing your explanation, you did everything you could to ensure your own safety." Sherry said reluctantly.

The duo rounded the well, where they found the ground covered in silver coins.

"The frack are these still doing here?" Michael muttered.

"Still doing here? You know why there's silver scattered around?" Sherry asked.

"Yeah well... It's a long story." Michael deflected.

*Tugtugtug

Michael felt something tug on his shirt tail. He turned, and there was a little succubus girl.

"Excuse me mister, but you forgot your money." The little inma said cutely.

She then proceeded to hop off and join her friends in play.

"Nononono... that CAN'T be the same money. Right?" Michael said in disbelief.

*Taptaptaptap

Sherry tapped her foot in annoyance, her arms crossed.

"I'm waiting for an explanation. I detest being left in the dark." Sherry said flatly.

"Alright fine! I had to take my clothes off to decontaminate! People just came out of nowhere and started throwing money at me!" Michael explained.

...

Sherry's frown turned into an amused smirk.

"So you just left it here, is that right?" Sherry asked.

Michael nodded.

"Well... of course it's still here. They were paying you for the peep show, which means that money is yours. Nobody would ever take it." Sherry said.

"But... we've been in our room for a week. I don't understand." Michael said.

"That's irrelevant. We could be in there for seven days or seven months, and that silver would still be here waiting for you. That's just the way people are here." Sherry said.

"Really?" Michael asked, surprised.

"Certainly! This place is very different than your world. Nobody locks their doors, or takes what doesn't belong to them. And we most certainly don't have anyone like that purse snatcher here!" Sherry explained.

"I got stolen from by a beezelbub the other day." Michael pointed out.

Sherry nodded knowingly.

"And I presume that shortly later, you found a meal that was much better than whatever the beezelbub took?" Sherry asked.

"Well yeah but..." Michael tried to say.

"That's how their magic works. Maybe it seems like theft on the surface, but it always works out in the end. Every time. Without fail." Sherry said.

...

"Yeah but, you still have a punishment pit." Michael noted.

"Which doesn't seem to work too well, since Christine broke out." Michael thought.

...

"Sometimes we inma can get a little... excited. So Druella created a place for us to cool down a while. And what better place to cool the hot blood of an inma than a pit of tentacle monsters?" Sherry suggested.

"I wouldn't know." Michael said dryly.

"There is a serious shortage of males here, and often my sisters will go out of their minds with need. Especially the beasts who go into heat. The punishment pit is absolutely needed. Everyone's been in it at least once, including myself." Sherry said.

...

..

.

"I digress. We were talking about how much danger you had placed yourself in. First you go missing, then I find you in the midst of a battle, and now I learn you exposed yourself to the plague. You have some explaining to do!" Sherry insisted.

She pointed a finger right at his nose.

"Speak! I demand answers! Why did you come to this place when you KNEW a battle was taking place?" Sherry insisted.

"I was starving." Michael said simply.

...

..

Sherry blinked a few times.

.

"That was... my doing. Wasn't it?" Sherry murmured.

She reached between her breasts, her fingers going into her little pocket dimension. The pocket dimension which still contained all the food and supplies she had prepared for their journey.

"Still though! That doesn't explain why you were in the battle! I demand you answer!" Sherry exclaimed.

"I didn't have a choice. If I hadn't have done something, the whole city would have been destroyed. Everyone would have been killed." Michael explained calmly.

...

Sherry grabbed his arm and started dragging him along.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked.

"To see mistress Druella! I demand answers, and not half answers!" Sherry exclaimed.

...

~A Short While Later~

...

Michael and Sherry found their way to the mansion. Standing before them was the cursed swordswoman standing guard, as she had been standing guard before. Sherry smiled and nodded at her, and Michael tried really hard not to look her in the eye, as they tried to enter the mansion.

*CLANK!

The swordswoman blocked their path with her sword.

"Did I do something wrong? I thought I was allowed inside." Michael said.

"She demands her toll, before we may enter." Sherry said.

Sherry reached out with her arms, and wrapped them around the cursed swordswoman.

"Hmmmmmmmm! Big hug!" Sherry said cheerfully.

Sherry lingered there for a while, before giving one last big squeeze and letting go. The cursed swordswoman turned her eyes towards Michael expectantly.

"It's your turn sweetie." Sherry said.

The cursed swordswoman reached out and wrapped her arms around Michael, and squeezed him tightly. He did not hug her back.

...

They finally got past the scary looking door guard, and into the mansion proper. The door clanged shut behind them.

"If I have to do that every time I come here, I'm not going to want to come here anymore." Michael said.

"Why not sweetie? It's just a harmless little hug." Sherry said.

"I don't care to hug her, or any of her dark knight buddies." Michael said flatly.

"I see. Very well." Sherry said, dejected.

...

As they walked down the hallways and corridors of the mansion, Michael spotted a familiar maid heading the other way. It was one of the four who had given him that sensual bath a while ago.

"Lord Collins! It's very good to see you again~" The sexy maid said.

"Hey uh... Yeah it's been a while..." Michael said nervously.

She raked her eyes up and down his body, visually stripping his clothes off. He knew full well that she knew exactly what lie underneath.

"Did you enjoy the bath we gave you sire? Would you perhaps... like another~?" The sexy maid asked sensually.

"Maybe another time. Thanks." Michael refused.

"Aww~ Too bad~ We quite enjoyed scrubbing you down~" The sexy maid said sensually.

And with that, she sashayed away. Sherry was giving Michael a questioning stare.

"Why does everyone call you either Lord Collins, or sire?" Sherry asked.

"A few odd things happened." Michael said.

A moment after he said that, another maid passed by.

"Greetings sire." A maid said.

...

"...Okay a bunch of things happened!" Michael admitted.

"I see that!" Sherry remarked.

...

The two of them continued onwards, heading through an unknown part of the mansion. Before long, they found themselves standing before a pair of honor guards and a large double door.

"Druella's throne room." Sherry explained.

She looked to the guards, who had their spears crossed in front of the door.

"Is the mistress seeing anyone right now?" Sherry asked.

"She is. Let us check if she will see you knight." The honor guard said.

The guard slid through the door, and closed it behind her.

"Knight Searraigh and Lord Collins request an audience!" The honor guard called.

...

Meanwhile, Michael was glaring at the remaining honor guard. It was one of the ones who had horrifically beat him into a pulp that one fateful night.

"Lord Collins." The second honor guard said.

"I remember you." Michael hissed.

"Yes sire. Please accept my apologies for..." The second honor guard tried to say.

"Go frack a porcupine." Michael shot.

"Sweetie!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Please... don't berate your husband on my account Searraigh. He has every reason to hate me." The second honor guard said.

...

The guard peeked back out of the door.

"The mistress will see you." The honor guard said.

Michael and Sherry were permitted to step through the door and enter the throne room. The second honor guard averted her eyes in shame.

...

..

.

It was a very long room, with rows of tall windows down the left side. At the head of the room, as expected, was a beautiful throne. Druella sat cross legged upon that throne, a golden chalice of wine held in her hand. She smiled devilishly as Michael and Sherry drew closer.

*THUD

Sherry dropped to a knee, and bowed her head. Michael remained standing.

"By your command, mistress Druella." Sherry said formally.

"Rise." Druella said.

Sherry rose to her feet, her head still slightly bowed.

"When will you ever learn? I've told you time and time again, quit bowing and scraping every time you come in here!" Druella exclaimed, frustrated.

"I'm sorry mistress!" Sherry blurted.

*Sigh...

Druella turned her eyes to Michael, who wasn't quite sure what was going on or what he should be doing.

"Do you see what I have to deal with? Will you bow to me as well?" Druella asked.

"I bow to no one." Michael said dryly.

Druella threw up her hands.

"You understand! This is why I like you so much!" Druella exclaimed.

She sighed again.

"I wish you would be more like your husband Searraigh. He put me in my place. What was it you said that fateful night?" Druella asked.

"If you want my respect, earn it." Michael recalled.

Sherry gasped.

"Sweetie! How could you?! Don't say such things to the mistress!" Sherry exclaimed.

"Silence!" Druella ordered.

Sherry clammed up instantly, her head bowing in shame.

...

"Now, on to more important business. It's fortuitous that you came before me. I had thought of summoning you for some time now, but I didn't wish to disturb your... feast of the flesh~" Druella said, grinning lewdly.

"What did you need to see us about?" Michael asked.

"Your title of course. I made you a promise, and I fully intend to keep it." Druella said.

She gracefully picked up a scroll from the small table next to the throne, and waved it through the air.

"Here it is, in writing. Your title as Earl Marshal, with all privileges that brings." Druella said.

*CrackleWHOOSH

The scroll appeared in Michael's hands, accompanied with a flash of crimson. Sherry remained obediently silent, but her eyes nearly bugged out.

"I told you that I'm not interested in a title." Michael said.

"I am aware, but you must see it from my position. I promised that I would give you that title, and there were witnesses. I must give it to you, or I would be dishonored in the eyes of my subjects. You will find a deed to a house within that scroll. It is yours, until the end of time or until you no longer wish to own it. Whichever comes first." Druella said.

"May I speak mistress?" Sherry asked.

"... you may. But do not berate your husband in front of me again." Druella warned.

"Yes mistress. What did my husband do to earn this incredible reward?" Sherry asked.

"Ah~ I guessed that you would be curious, and that he would be too humble to brag. Your husband single handedly saved the entire city, not once... but twice. Then he saved my life, and the lives of hundreds... no, thousands of our sisters in battle. " Druella explained.

Sherry gasped, and looked at Michael with wonder in her eyes.

"So a whole WHOLE lot of stuff happened." Michael said, shrugging.

"Sweetie~ You're amazing~" Sherry said in awe.

"Indeed. If there were ever a man that would be called a true hero, Michael is he." Druella said.

"I didn't do anything more than any other fella would have done." Michael insisted.

"And that statement is why you are a hero." Druella said.

She thoughtfully laid her dainty fingers on her chin.

"Of course, I shall not rest with simply giving you a title. Oh no. There will be much greater things in your future. I merely have to think of them." Druella said.

"I told you that I don't care for titles. I don't want anything." Michael insisted.

"We shall see." Druella said, grinning devilishly.

...

"Mistress, would you like my report on the other world now?" Sherry asked.

"No. I would not." Druella said flatly.

"Ehh?!" Sherry and Michael both grunted.

"That report is not meant for me. You shall give it to my mother in due time. I shall hear it then." Druella said.

Sherry opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She was at a loss for words.

"You shall be rewarded as well Searraigh. You can be assured of that. I'm sure that my mother will be VERY pleased with your fine work." Druella said.

"Thhhhtankyoumistress!" Sherry blubbered.

...

"That said, I'm afraid I have something unpleasant to request." Druella added.

"Uh oh." Michael quipped.

"By your command mistress." Sherry said.

"I need you... to return your blade." Druella said hesitantly.

Sherry immediately began unbuckling her sword belt, even as Michael began to protest.

"Hey wait a minute!" Michael protested.

"It's alright sweetie. It's not my sword, it was graciously loaned to me. I have no deep attachment to it." Sherry said.

"Perhaps you are not aware, but that sword is the same sword that Wilmarina used to liberate Lescatie from the Order. It is a valued artifact of this city, and it belongs here." Druella explained.

"I... guess that's true." Michael murmured.

Sherry carried the sheathed blade to Druella, and offered it to her. She took it.

"It's just as well. While the sword is powerful, and I was grateful to have it, the shape and style doesn't fit my fighting style very well." Sherry said.

Sherry's fingers lingered on the sword for a moment, and then she let it slip away.

"Goodbye, old friend." Sherry thought.

...

"You may go to any smith here in my domain, and have any weapon you wish made for you. I shall pay for it. It's the least I could do." Druella said.

"You're very generous mistress. Thank you." Sherry said.

"You two are excused now." Druella said.

...

..

~Later~

..

...

Michael and Sherry found their way out of the throne room.

"I'm sorry you lost your sword." Michael said.

"Like I said sweetie, the sword never was a good fit for me. It's better this way." Sherry said.

"I suppose..." Michael said, uncertain.

"If I were to get a new sword, I could enchant it in a way which would be far more attuned to my power. If I do it right, I could even make a sword more powerful than that one." Sherry explained.

"That's something at least. Have anyone in mind who could forge you a new sword?" Michael asked.

"I do! There's a Cyclops blacksmith here in Lescatie who does wonderful work. I'm sure she would be happy to make me the perfect sword. At least... a blank canvas in which to paint my own way." Sherry said.

She glanced at Michael briefly.

"And one for you too, if you so desired." Sherry added.

"Nah. I'm a rifleman. I wouldn't know the first thing about fighting with a long sword." Michael said.

"But I saw you wielding one during the battle." Sherry said.

"That was a short sword. I can flail around with one of those just fine." Michael said.

"But from what I saw, you were not half bad." Sherry said.

"I learned a little machete fighting when I went down to Mexico for the Baja 500 race." Michael said.

"Machete fighting?! Oh my! I simply must teach you proper swordsmanship!" Sherry remarked.

"Maybe one of these days." Michael said.

...

He held up the scroll that Druella had given them. It was quite heavy and large.

"Hey I have an idea. Let's head up to our room and check out this thick ass roll of papers." Michael said.

"Sounds like a wise idea to me." Sherry agreed.

..

.

A few minutes later, and they were walking through the door to Sherry's room in the mansion. Michael sat on the bed while Sherry remained standing.

"After we get done with this, I wish to contact that smithy immediately. I feel naked without my sword." Sherry said.

"I feel ya. I feel naked without my Beretta. If push comes to shove, you could always carry around that sword over in the display case." Michael said casually.

! ! !

Sherry lashed out and grabbed Michael roughly by the shirt.

"How do you know about that sword?!" Sherry shouted.

*Poppopshriiiip

Sherry was putting so much force into gripping his shirt, it began to tear.

"Druella made me sleep in here before you got here! That's when I noticed it!" Michael explained.

"DID. YOU. TOUCH. IT?" Sherry demanded.

"No?!" Michael exclaimed, confused.

...

"You are never to go near that sword! Do you understand me? NEVER!" Sherry exclaimed.

*GRAB

She grabbed his jaw and squeezed it. Michael let out a whimper of pain.

"I don't hear you!" Sherry exclaimed.

"OKAY! I WON'T!" Michael exclaimed, wincing in pain.

She shoved him onto the bed, and turned towards the display case. Her magic hands waved over it, and she covered it with a ton of defensive wards.

"If you ever touched this sword, you would be smitten instantly by holy magic! Your body would be destroyed, and your soul would be taken to the fiery pits that the chief god created for sinners!" Sherry explained.

...

*Niiiiiiirow

*CLANG

And just like that, the display case became permanently sealed. She turned back towards him.

"Once there, you would be tormented forever for daring to go against her commandments! There is no escape!" Sherry added.

"THEN WHY THE HELL DO YOU KEEP IT IN YOUR BEDROOM?!" Michael exclaimed.

...

Sherry opened her mouth to spit out an angry retort, but she hesitated and rethought what she was going to say.

...

"You're right of course. I shouldn't. But the problem is... well... the blade is unbreakable. If I threw it away, some poor innocent person would end up coming across it. Maybe not this year, maybe not ten years, but eventually someone would." Sherry explained quietly.

...

"It's the sword I carried as a holy knight. It's my burden to bear, until we learn how to finally destroy them for good." Sherry said.

She was silent for a few moments, before she realized what she had done to Michael.

"Oh no! I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to be so rough!" Sherry exclaimed.

She reached out to give him a hug, but he swatted her hands away.

*Ptooie!

*Doink!

Michael spat out a molar, which bounced off her forehead.

"Sorry isn't going to replace that tooth." Michael shot.

Sherry picked up the tooth off the sheets, and held it in the palm of her hand.

"I didn't squeeze you nearly hard enough to knock a tooth out. How did this happen?" Sherry asked.

"It probably happened because one of Druella's dark knights thought it would be fun to smash my face in a dozen or so times with the buttstock of my AK74." Michael said.

Sherry's knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the ground.

"So forgive me if I don't want to hug the fracking door guard." Michael added.

Sherry staggered to her feet, and settled down heavily on the bed. She still had his tooth in her hand.

"Let me see." Sherry said quietly.

...

Gesturing to his mouth, Sherry managed to coax Michael into letting her look at his teeth. With the utmost care, she went to put his tooth back and heal the root.

"You should hug her anyways sweetie. She lost her husband to the same curse that is within my old sword." Sherry explained.

*POP

*Niiiiii

*iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

*iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirow

Sherry healed his jaw, cheekbones, and entire head area.

"Druella has promised to lead an invasion into that firey hell in which those poor people are trapped, which is why that cursed swordswoman has volunteered to guard the mansion. The dark knights know this, and many of them have loved ones of their own who are trapped in that place." Sherry explained.

She let her hands fall from his cheeks... to his shoulders.

"I am not excusing what they did, but if they thought you were threatening the mistress..." Sherry started to say.

"If I were in hell, you would probably beat up a few people too... if that meant getting me back." Michael reasoned.

"I would do far more than that, to rescue you from that torment. I would stop at nothing." Sherry said.

*Pomf!

She landed on the bed next to him, and pulled him down with her.

"I know those people. They're good people. I promise they are. Give them one more chance. You won't be sorry." Sherry reassured.

"I'll try." Michael said reluctantly.

.

..

...

~Later~

...

..

.

Michael casually unraveled the scrolls as he spoke with Sherry.

"So what kind of sword are you going to get?" Michael asked.

The scroll popped open, and several pieces of parchment slid onto the bed. He began looking through them.

"I think I shall get a hand and a half sword. Of course I'll tailor it to fit me better. That other sword had too thin a grip, the guard was all wrong, and the blade was too short and thick." Sherry explained.

"That's all Greek to me, but I'll believe you." Michael said casually.

He flipped through the papers. It was all pretty run of the mill, although the document proclaiming him to be an Earl was quite amusing.

"I'll put that in my resume." Michael thought.

Sherry continued rambling on, talking about how she would design her new sword.

"I shall embed a jewel in the pommel, which will help me focus my power. I'll use a ruby, for they help with destruction magic." Sherry explained.

"And it will look sick." Michael quipped.

Michael pulled out a black envelope from the wad of papers. It was addressed to him, and it had a wax seal on the back. The handwriting on the envelope was exquisite.

"Once the sword is made, I'll take it to the mages in the Royal Makai. They'll help me turn it into a proper magic sword." Sherry continued.

Michael slipped his finger under the lip of the envelope, and broke the wax seal. His fingers pulled at the letter inside.

"Perhaps I should sketch some designs on how I wish for the blade to look..." Sherry tried to say.

*CrackleWHOOSH!

Michael was teleported away somewhere. Documents flew everywhere, and Sherry nearly hopped through the ceiling in fright. A letter gracefully fluttered down to the spot he had been sitting.

"SWEETIE!" Sherry exclaimed.

She snagged the letter and read it. It was a contract.

"This contract signifies the signee's willingness to give up their existence as a mortal, and become an incubus at the hands of one Druella, fourth princess of the demon realms. This contract also signifies a requirement for Druella, fourth princess of the demon realms, to conduct the ritual of incubisation at her earliest convenience. Signed, dated today." Sherry read aloud.

There was a dotted line at the bottom of the contract. In the center of that dotted line was a single drop of blood, where Michael had bled from cutting himself on the paper.

...

Sherry sat down on the edge of the bed, a happy smile on her face.

"Congratulations sweetie. I'll be waiting... patiently. Come home soon." Sherry said softly.

...

..

.

~Meanwhile~

.

..

...

"Welcome Michael Collins. I've been waiting for you." Druella said.

Michael found himself in a strange little room, his body glued down to an inclined table made of black tar like goo. He panicked at first, until he realized what had just happened.

"You scared the hell out of me!" Michael exclaimed.

"There's no reason to be afraid. Nothing can harm you here." Druella reassured gently.

She rounded the table, gently brushing her hand against his chest.

"Well I'm not afraid now, but you could have warned me that you were going to teleport me somewhere. It's just courtesy." Michael said calmly.

"Courtesy is very rare in my line of work. You are the first person who has ever appeared in this place, and not immediately cursed at me." Druella noted.

"Aww, I'm not like that. Would you like a kiss instead of a curse cupcake? *Smooch Smooch~" Michael joked.

Druella formed a wicked grin.

"You might be the easiest corruption this room has ever seen~" Druella marveled.

She leaned forward, grabbed the back of his head, and kissed him.

"MMPH!" Michael cried, muffled.

His eyes widened as he felt a burning sensation rush through his body. A year's worth of demonic energy was poured into his body within a split second.

"MMMMMMPPH!" Michael cried, muffled.

*Pwah~!

She broke the kiss, leaving Michael panting hotly.

"Wha...why'd you..." Michael panted.

"Why did I kiss you? Because you offered~" Druella giggled.

"But Sherry..." Michael panted.

"Kissing me is no different than kissing your lovely wife. I assure you of that sweetie." Druella said, grinning.

Michael's eyes narrowed. His focus returned, sharper than ever. Even the kiss of a powerful succubus wasn't going to keep him from learning the truth.

"Why do you sound just like Sherry? What's going on here? What do you keep hinting at?" Michael asked pointedly.

"You didn't say please~" Druella teased.

"Please and thank you." Michael said flatly.

...

Druella sighed.

...

"I suppose... you deserve to know who your wife is." Druella relented.

"Yes. I do. Consider it payback for saving your sexy ass. I'll even give back the house and title. Just... tell me about Sherry." Michael insisted.

"What has she told you about herself so far?" Druella asked.

"She's told me a little. She was an Order knight, and she was captured trying to take Lescatie back from you." Michael said.

"All true, but hardly the full story. Searraigh was no mere knight, she was a holy ordained hero. She wasn't just sent here to re-capture the city, she came here to kill me." Druella explained.

"That's not surprising. If you go down, the whole city goes down. That's part of the reason why I jumped on you so hard that night a week ago." Michael noted.

"All true. But..." Druella hesitated.

It was clear that Druella was struggling to retell the story. She hesitated, averting her eyes multiple times while sighing repeatedly. But eventually, she started by saying something that shocked Michael to the core.

"Searraigh... almost succeeded." Druella said.

Michael's eyes went wide.

...

"The Order lost a great many heroes when Lescatie was liberated. They watched as their most effective soldiers were turned against them, by using their own humanity as a tool of corruption." Druella started.

"Like Wilmarina. She was secretly in love with El." Michael recalled.

"Correct. I used that to turn her into a proper succubus, so that she might have the love that was denied her by foolish human social status." Druella said.

...

"But Searraigh... was special." Druella said.

"Special how?" Michael asked.

...

"Perhaps Searraigh told you things about her family? Her parents? Maybe the place in which she was born?" Druella asked.

"A couple of times." Michael said.

"It was all fake. She has no family. Searraigh was born into the world by divine power." Druella said.

"So she was an angel?" Michael asked.

"Oh no! She was no angel, that's for certain! She was human." Druella said, scoffing.

...

"Searraigh was born into the world for one purpose and one purpose only. To kill inma. The chief god created her, and tasked the Order priests with training her to become a murdering zealot. And when she came of age and was finally unleashed upon the world, she caused as much damage for the Order as she did for us." Druella explained.

...

"Searraigh was a mass murderer. That was her purpose. The only emotions she possessed were anger, hatred, and blood lust. They created her that way, specifically to combat inma. And she cut a bloody swath straight through us. She was a monster, in the truest sense of the word." Druella recalled.

"So that's why she had the teardrop tattoo." Michael thought.

...

"We first heard word of something happening from a runner, who had come from another city to ask for help. They were under attack. I rode out with my finest knights, accompanied by none other than Wilmarina herself. When we arrived, it was too late. We found no survivors. The city was razed." Druella recalled.

...

"So we followed the bloody trail, going from one battlefield to another in search of what we presumed to be an invading army. The other cities had sent out their own armies independently, and we often came across their remains. They were all slaughtered. Their cities were all razed to the ground." Druella recalled.

...

"Eventually, we found a survivor of one of the battles. I held her broken body in my arms, and asked her how many men the Order had in their army. She just shook her head... and wheezed out the answer. One, a woman. It was from that inma that I learned Searraigh's name for the first time. She died moments later." Druella recalled.

...

"Even then, I didn't realize what we were dealing with. I couldn't believe that one knight could cause all that damage. But the girl's words were in earnest. There was no way I could ignore them. Searraigh was quickly drawing close to Lescatie, and the race was on." Druella recalled.

...

"I felt that we wouldn't be able to catch her in time, so I rode on alone to confront Searraigh. I caught her but a mere few miles outside of Lescatie. And then... the battle to end all battles began." Druella recalled.

...

"For six days we fought. It was the clash of magic and sword, of destructive proportions. The battle took place near a coast line, and that coast line no longer exists. The land turned barren, the sea boiled, and a small mountain range was was the level of destructiveness of our battle." Druella recalled.

...

"On the seventh day, Searraigh managed to nick me with her holy sword. I thought for sure that my fate was sealed, and that I was doomed to death or worse. But at the eleventh hour, Wilmarina and the others caught up. With their help, we nicked Searraigh with a demon realm silver sword. The very same sword that Searraigh was carrying in your world. At long last, Searraigh was captured." Druella recalled.

"And then you turned her into a succubus." Michael said.

Druella scoffed.

"You think the story ends there? That's just the beginning!" Druella exclaimed.

...

..

.

Michael watched as Druella rounded the room, brushing her fingers against the wall.

"I brought her here, to the very same place in which you sit. Oh how she cursed me, and spat at me, like a rabid beast. I wondered to myself, what sort of inma should I turn her into? But the more I thought about it, the harder it became to make up my mind. She didn't fit any of them." Druella said.

...

"So I decided... I would turn her into a succubus. Perhaps that boundless energy inside her could be put to better uses. At least, more gentle uses. So I turned, and placed my hand against her chest just like this." Druella said.

As she said that, Druella turned and placed her hand against Michael's chest.

"And in that moment, I discovered the final fail safe that the Order had devised. A trap so devilish, even the devils would never have anticipated it." Druella said.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"To ensure that Searraigh couldn't be used against them, they built her in such a way that her mind was completely incompatible with any thoughts other than anger and hatred. When I introduced demonic energy into her body and began corrupting her mind, it self-destructed." Druella explained.

"Wait a minute! Then who is..." Michael started.

"The woman you married... is not actually Searraigh Fontaine. That woman, for all intents and purposes, is truly dead. Her mind was destroyed beyond salvage, to the point that even her heart and lungs no longer functioned." Druella exclaimed.

"So she was brain dead! Then who the hell did I marry?!" Michael exclaimed.

"Me." Druella said.

...

..

.

"WHA!?" Michael exclaimed.

"I used my own mind as a template to build her a new one. Matters of heartbeat, breathing, movement, and speech were simple to copy over. Then I created a false childhood based on my own, and stitched together what few memories she had remaining into something resembling a past. Then I gave her all my emotions, urges, feelings, and everything else that she needed to be a real woman." Druella explained.

...

"It took months, but eventually I succeeded. I remember the day she opened those lovely eyes of hers, and how she looked up at me. They weren't filled with hate anymore. The urge to murder no longer surged through her body. At long last... the woman you call Sherry was born." Druella recalled.

...

"Just how much of Sherry is the old her, and how much is you?" Michael asked.

"She and I could have been twin sisters, had the fates aligned. Why do you ask? Has she... done anything questionable?" Druella asked.

Michael's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason he couldn't understand, the memory was just out of reach. He knew something was there, but it was right on the tip of his tongue.

"I don't think... so..." Michael said, uncertain.

"You come to me if Searraigh ever does something... unbecoming of a succubus. Some of her old memories do remain, and she may act on them without knowing any better. She was born just a few seasons ago after all. She's a child. My child. And I've done my best to teach her with my own limited experience." Druella said.

Michael nodded.

"Why'd you do it? Wouldn't it have been easier to just let her die?" Michael asked.

"It would have. I had many reasons for doing it, ranging from spiting the Order, to simple curiosity. But ultimately... I couldn't bring myself to waste a perfectly good woman. Everyone's worth saving, even monsters like Searraigh." Druella said.

Michael's eyes downturned.

"Maybe not everyone." Michael said quietly.

"Everyone. Absolutely everyone. Including you too. And if you don't believe me, then behold!" Druella cried.

Druella firmly pressed her hand against his chest.

*WHOOSH!

Michael let out a wild pleasured cry.

"And you're one step closer. Soon, you will become an incubus. Within the hour at the latest." Druella said.

*Whooshpop

*Crackle

Druella pulled her hand away, giving Michael a small break.

"How... so fast?" Michael panted.

"I assume you ask because Searraigh told you it would take years, correct?" Druella asked.

Michael nodded, his head lolling from side to side weakly.

"That's not a lie. It does take years. Simply put, time moves at a different rate here in this dimension. I created this place specifically to corrupt people quickly. The spirit moves at one rate of time, and the body moves at another." Druella explained.

She caught his chin and made him look up at her devilish smile.

"Your soul is currently experiencing years worth of demonic energy exposure... in mere minutes. Isn't it wonderful? I imagine it feels quite pleasurable." Druella said seductively.

Michael hummed in agreement. She began pouring demonic energy into him again.

"Just wait until you finally turn into an incubus. Your whole world will change." Druella said seductively.

...

"She's right about that boyo!"

*GASP!

"GAAAH! STOP!" Michael cried out.

Druella hopped back in surprise, yanking her hand away. Michael had gone from writhing in pleasure... to writhing in pain.

"GArrrrhhhhhhh! Hurts!" Michael forced through gritted teeth.

"You're not supposed to feel pain!" Druella exclaimed.

...

..

.

~Later~

.

..

...

Sherry laid on her little couch in her room, reading a book she borrowed from the mansion library.

"Sixty Nine ways to please your new incubus husband. Way number four, spend most of your time on your knees or back'. Yep, that sounds right! Way number five, bigger breasts are always better. I agree!" Sherry read aloud.

She turned the page.

"It is wise to remember that a newly born incubus will not be familiar with how his body functions. It is not the same as when he was a human, and he must be carefully tended to until he gets used to his new needs. For example, equating mana with food." Sherry read aloud.

...

"A newly born incubus typically has poor control over his new magical powers. He must be taught how not to accidentally cast nymphomancy spells all over, lest he turn the whole town horny. Or perhaps you'll have him do it on purpose~" Sherry read aloud.

She paused, looking up from the book.

"I wonder if I could use that to build a harem." Sherry mused.

*Knockknockknock

Sherry straightened excitedly. It was a little soon for Michael to return, but it was entirely plausible that he was home. She adjusted her blouse to show more skin, hiked up her skirt a little, and took sexy a pose.

"Enter~" Sherry said seductively.

The door opened, and one of the mansion's maids came in. Sherry coughed and ditched the sexy pose.

"Knight Searraigh, your presence has been requested by mistress Druella. Something's wrong with your husband." The maid said.

*THUD

Sherry dropped the book and immediately rushed for the door.

...

~Shortly Later~

...

Sherry hurried quickly through the mansion with Stavish in tow, heading straight for the throne room.

"What the hell is going on?" Stavish protested.

"Something's wrong with sweetie, and I need help. You were the only one I could find who is from his world." Sherry explained hurriedly.

"But what difference does that make?" Stavish asked.

"I don't know if men from your world are somehow different than ours! So don't argue!" Sherry exclaimed.

She rushed into the throne room, the guards not even pretending to get in their way. In the center of the room was a six and a half foot high glowing portal.

"Wow, it's like a miniature version of the one back in base camp." Stavish remarked.

Sherry wasted no time, hurrying through the portal with Stavish right behind.

...

..

The duo entered the room, and were greeted with an awful sound.

"AAAAAhhhHHHHGHHHHH!" Michael wailed.

Sherry winced. It was the worst howl of pain she had ever heard her husband make.

"Mistress! Why does my husband suffer so?!" Sherry demanded.

Druella was standing over Michael, one hand healing him while the other poured more demonic energy into his body.

"I don't know!" Druella cried.

"ARGH! Boyo! boyo!" Michael cried.

"He won't stop blubbering nonsense!" Druella cried.

"STOP! STOP STOP STOP STOP!" Michael begged.

"I cannot! I must complete the ritual! It's in the contract!" Druella insisted.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Stavish exclaimed.

She reached out and snagged Druella's hand and pulled it away. Druella shot her a shocked glare.

"Who do you think you are?" Druella shot angrily.

"Specialist Stavish. I'm stopping this shit show, right now!" Stavish shot.

Druella tried to pull her hand out of Stavish's vice like grip, but got absolutely nowhere.

"I'll have your head for this!" Druella exclaimed.

"Oh yeah? Here you go." Stavish shrugged.

Stavish popped off her own head, and offered it to Druella. She wasn't amused.

"No? Okay." Stavish said.

*Plunk

...

Meanwhile, Sherry came to Michael's side and gently took his hand.

"Sweetie what's wrong? What hurts?" Sherry asked.

Michael hadn't stopped writhing, even after Druella stopped pouring demonic energy into him. He was a complete mess, moaning in pain.

"Kill me! Kill me kill me kill me!" Michael cried.

"I can't do that sweetie. Tell us what's wrong." Sherry said softly.

Michael's eyes turned to Stavish.

"I order you to shoot me! You can't... AHHH! Let him! AAAAAHHHHH! HE'LL KILL YOU ALL!" Michael cried.

"Who sir? Who's going to kill us?" Stavish asked.

"Incubus Michael!" Michael cried.

And as if in response to speaking those words, Michael was hit with a whole new wave of unbearable pain.

"It's nonsense! I haven't turned him into an incubus yet! He's gone mad with pain! I have to end this now!" Druella exclaimed.

"I agree. He's gone loony. We must..." Sherry started.

"The hell you are! Holy shit! He's not insane!" Stavish exclaimed.

Stavish grabbed Michael and looked him in the eye.

"Sir! Fight him sir! Don't give up! We're going to help you!" Stavish said loudly.

Michael nodded, and gritted his teeth.

...

"What in the name of the maoyu are you talking about Stavish?" Sherry demanded.

"He isn't crazy! He was never crazy! None of it was his fault! It's the alter ego! The uh... what was it... dissociative identity disorder! But it wasn't actually a disorder! There really is another person in his head!" Stavish exclaimed.

Sherry's eyes widened, as did Druella's.

"How did you know about..." Sherry started.

"It doesn't matter! What matters is... " Stavish started.

"Someone else is trying to take him over! STAND ASIDE!" Druella cried.

Stavish released Michael, and Druella slapped her hand on the side of Michael's head. Demonic energy tendrils penetrated his ear...

...

..

~Meanwhile~

..

...

"So what finally tipped you off? Was it when I tried to turn you against your wife, or was it when I tried to kill you?" Incubus Michael asked mockingly.

They were grappled, hand to hand, wrestling each other. Michael v Michael. But one of the Michaels wasn't actually Michael. He was someone else. And behind the Michaels on either side of their battle arena was a pit, where they would never be heard from again should the fall inside. The real Michael was very close to his pit, and getting closer by the moment.

"You're a worthless human! You're so worthless, you had to fornicate with demons to console yourself! For your heretical crimes, your sentence is death!" Incubus Michael exclaimed.

"You're with the Order! You were never a part of me! It was all a lie!" Michael exclaimed.

"Yep! Once you're out of the way, we'll make good use of your body. You'll be the perfect double agent, no one will ever suspect an incubus of being a spy. We might even be able to strike at the monster lord herself!" Incubus Michael exclaimed, laughing.

"NO! I won't let you! I'll kill you like I killed all your friends!" Michael exclaimed.

"Like I'll kill all YOUR friends! Starting with that turncoat wife of yours!" Incubus Michael retorted.

"No!" Michael forced through gritted teeth.

"Then I'll kill Stavish, and then Alistair, and then finally... Druella! You can't stop me boyo!" Incubus Michael mocked.

Michael fought harder, forcing the other one to take a step back. A victory, but a temporary one. His strength was fading fast.

"You can't escape this time boyo. It's time for the world to pay you back for being an asshole. Time to pay the devil his due! You're going to burn for eternity!" Incubus Michael laughed.

"Everyone's worth saving! Even a wretch like me!" Michael shouted.

"No they're not! You're not worth saving! You're a worthless drifter! A worthless FAT drifter!" Incubus Michael said.

"Yeah? How'd you like four hundred and fifty pounds standing on your neck?" Michael shot.

*CRACK!

Michael punched his alter ego, breaking his nose and making him recoil back. Blood splattered on their little arena.

*niiiiiirow

The nose healed instantly, and once again they were back to wrestling.

"You can't kill me. I'll just keep coming back, again and again and again." Incubus Michael said.

*SLASH!

Incubus Michael staggered back, making an awful gurgling sound. A gaping sword wound had appeared on his chest.

*STAB!

"Heal THAT!" Druella cried.

Michael lashed out and wrapped his hands around the throat of the gurgling doppelganger.

"You... don't know... who I am..." Incubus Michael coughed.

*CRUNCH!

Michael snapped his neck.

"Don't know. Don't care. Just die." Michael spat.

And with that, Incubus Michael tumbled into the void below. Michael collapsed onto a knee.

...

"Ugh...what took you... so long... cupcake? I was shouting for help..." Michael murmured.

Michael fell face first onto the arena, his strength fading fast.

"I heard you my friend. I heard you. At long last, I heard you. I guess we're even now." Druella said.

"Thank you." Michael murmured.

Those were his last words before he blacked out.

...

..

.

~Shortly Later~

.

..

...

Druella pulled her hand away from Michael's ear. He was just as unconscious outside as he was inside.

"Mistress?" Sherry asked.

Druella looked up to her, and then back to Michael.

"You do not know this, but the Order attempted to infiltrate our cities with spies posing as Michael Collins. Including in Lescatie." Druella explained.

Sherry gasped.

"Many of us were fooled. They gathered information, and that is how the Order was able to attack us with such a large army." Druella explained.

"They caught you with your pants down." Stavish said.

"Indeed. And now... we discover an even more sinister plot. Our most precious commodity, our husbands, are no longer safe. There's no knowing how many of them have already suffered the fate Michael nearly suffered. The Order wished to use him as a spy, to harm us from within." Druella explained.

"How is that even possible?" Stavish asked.

"When a human becomes an incubus or an inma, their spirit is in a state of flux. It only lasts a brief while, but that time is when that person is shaped into the kind of being they will be forevermore. I can only guess the Order has learned a way to use that against us." Druella reasoned.

"It's possible they were only able to plant a seed because he was living somewhere without the massive wards that protect Lescatie." Sherry suggested.

"We can only hope. Because if they can do this to anyone..." Druella said.

...

"I believe the only reason why Michael has survived, is because of his pure fighting spirit and stubbornness." Druella added.

"He's an asshole to us, and he's an even bigger asshole to the enemy. I can live with that." Stavish said.

"The Order couldn't handle the salt." Sherry quipped.

Druella gently waved her hand over Michael's body, casting a 'detect magic' spell, similar to the one Sherry had used in the past. His spirit illuminated the room.

"Oh no! His spirit is wounded! We cannot..." Sherry fretted.

Michael stirred, interrupting her words. His eyes slowly opened.

"Is it over?" Michael asked quietly.

"It's over sweetie. He's gone. He can't hurt you anymore." Sherry reassured.

Michael groaned, turning his head towards Druella.

"And is the ritual over? Am I an incubus now?" Michael asked.

"We cannot finish it. Your spirit has been wounded. If we continue, we could damage or even snuff you out. I'm sorry." Druella said, dejected.

Michael sank back, disappointment etched across his face.

"Well big freaking deal! Just finish it later!" Stavish exclaimed.

"You don't understand. Michael cannot leave this place until he has become an incubus." Druella said.

"Why not?! Stavish exclaimed.

"Because the door will not permit him. Druella placed powerful spells on the door to prevent people from escaping." Sherry said quietly.

...

"You cannot leave... until you accept the truth into your heart." Michael murmured.

"That's correct. I remember when I told Searraigh that." Druella said.

Michael groaned again, placing his hand on Sherry's shoulder for support as he slowly sat up.

"Stavish... a hand?" Michael asked.

"Yes sir." Stavish said.

She caught his hand, and helped him to his feet. He took an unsteady step towards the door.

"You cannot leave Michael. Don't even bother." Druella said.

"It's okay sweetie. I'll come visit you every day. I'll bring you coffee, and all the snacks you want." Sherry said softly.

"No. I can walk through this door. I know I can." Michael insisted.

He placed his hand on the large door latch, and pulled on it. The door swung open on oiled hinges. On the other side, sunlight streamed into the throne room of the Lescatie family mansion.

"This is as far as you can go. You cannot go any further." Druella said.

Michael laughed, and took one step through the door.

*WHOOSH!

And appeared on the other side, safe and sound. Druella and Sherry both gaped.

"That's impossible! No human has ever set foot back through that door once coming here!" Druella said quietly.

"I'm the first one to ever go in there... who already likes monster girls. So of course I can walk out. I'm no brainwashed Order zealot." Michael said.

...

"Let's go home Sherry. I'm really tired." Michael said, eyes lidded.

Sherry came through the doorway, and took his hand. Her eyes were filled with joyous tears.

"I'll take you home sweetie. Don't worry about a thing. Everything's okay now. Everything's perfect~" Sherry choked.

With that, Sherry and Michael walked away towards their bedroom. He glanced back towards Druella briefly, before he leaned his tired body against Sherry and hugged her. That brief eye contact said volumes. Michael heard everything Druella had told him about Sherry, and he didn't care.