Percival’s Memory
The warrior spurred his horse and leaned forward, drawing back his curved sword and roaring out a challenge to the castle guards. Steel flashed in the sunlight, catching the bloody rays of sunset as the guards stepped out onto the packed earth of the courtyard.
The warrior was good - and his horse was a fighter, too. The huge mount wheeled and turned, dodging pikes and sword tips easily as his rider dealt death from above. Horse and rider were seasoned veterans, survivors - victors - both successful practitioners of a profession that punished mistakes harshly.The castle guards did the best they could, but the battle was lopsided from the start. Unmounted and out of shape, the best they could hope for was to overwhelm the warrior by sheer force of numbers. Time and again, one or another of them would set a pike or lunge for the horse's belly to disembowel it and unseat the rider, only to have the monstrous beast read their minds aIf malevolence had the power to manifest itself in stone and mortar, then Rag Castle was its purest embodiment. It bespoke, with its sombre grey walls and stagnant putrid moat, a clear warning to stay away -- or else. A warning that seemed to have prevailed upon the wildlife of the area to perform a mass exodus many years ago. Doom-laden and desolate, its enormous bulk cast a pall of deep unease upon the land.As Malone and Abigail drove across the drawbridge into the courtyard their first impressions were radically different.Malone felt pleased with himself for having discovered such an abysmal pile, and was looking forward to exploring the interior.Abigail felt violated. She had the oddest sensation that someone had just probed a finger into her vagina and was exploring her insides. She wriggled involuntarily and experienced a sudden uprush of tearful emotion. Her head felt hot and vague, and then icily cold and unpleasantly clear. Vivid tableaux of medieval
Frank recoiled in disgust, his bowels desperate to evacuate. He lunged towards the door, but staggered and fell, his feet adhering to the carpet in a coagulated mess of the creatures' excrement. His knee hit one of the things and it thrashed violently. Instinctively, he shot to his feet and leapt for the door again. Again he fell, his fingers scratching frantically at the doorjamb. Something was crawling up his leg inside his trousers. He screamed in abject terror. It was moving up the back of his calf. He kicked his leg to try and dislodge it. It stopped for a moment, and then, as if with stronger resolve, slithered round to his shin and touched his kneecap. Frank lashed at the thing with his fist, pounding, wild with hysteria. It was counterproductive. The thing squirmed up his thigh with a spasm of muscular energy, moving inexorably towards the warmth of his groin. Adrenalin propelled him to his feet, his hands ripping furiously to remove his trousers. Something plopped onto his
Abigail's faculties were closing down, her sense of selfhood becoming dull and misty. She felt Lilith's avid fingers violating her body, but was not outraged. Her body was for Lilith, she knew it, and wanted it so. The whispers continued:'Frank James enriched our power, unwittingly he fed our hunger and thirst for death. We treated his guests with indulgence, and gratified their appetites before bringing them to our spirit-throng. Now the place is empty. Only you and the priest-man remain to entertain us.'Abigail felt uneasy. Deep within her vitiated senses she thought of Malone and of her love for him. There was something important that she must do. A thought, a resolution, an urgent vital word must be uttered. She strove to remember what it was. And then it came back to her:'No.'Lilith sprang to her feet, hissing like a viper. 'No? You impart this word to me? I, who have bathed your brain in sweet delirium, am assailed by defiance! Bitch! Insolent b
Malone’s POVI'll never forget that night. What started out as a typical night out at the clubs turned into a life-changing event. And it all started with her, the woman. So lustfully mysterious. I remember when I first saw her. It was a club I had only frequented a handful of times,El Villagioand I had waited for my drink at the bar. I turned around just as the music switched to something slow and saw her hourglass figure that swayed in the shadows.Even in the dark I could see her exquisite figure, curvy and voluptuous. Her breasts swayed with the rhythm of the music, and I could tell they were easily C cups. Her hair was long, curly, and a deep blood red. It also matched her lipstick, which complimented her puffy lips. Even though her lips and hair were vivid red, the rest of her skin was pale. She wore a red dress, which clearly matched the rest of her and it flowed down to her calves. She also had on a black silky scarf that intertwined
Malone’s POVMost rooms were closed with the same blood red curtains, some were shut off completely with doors, and others remained open. Some couples liked to be watched, and it was clear that they got off from it because my eyes would wander into the open rooms and see people engaged in acts I could only dream of.One in particular had a man engaged with two other females. He was spread onto the bed, his hands and feet tied with rope to each of the bedposts. Both women were licking and kissing his body and he was blindfolded. One woman had olive colored skin and short black hair with sparkling sapphire eyes while the other had straight long black hair with brown eyes. The woman with longer black hair seemed to have an exotic skin tone and had perky size B cup breasts. She was of Asian descent while the other looked Italian. The Italian woman had D cup breasts and a round ass that stuck out as she laid on top of the man kissing him.The man was moaning in
Robert Bentley turned on the taps and looked at the small clear plastic packet.Oh well, he may as well give it a go, he thought. He emptied the contents into the bath.*****Bentley hadn't really gone into the New Age shop with the intention of buying anything. He just wanted to get a closer look at the hot shopkeeper he'd seen through the window. All he'd seen was a glimpse of pale skin and cascading black curls, but it had caused his heart to jump. Curious, and with a little bit of time to kill, he'd walked in to get a closer look.The small premises were on the corner on the way to the bus station. It used to be an adult book store with dirty, boarded up windows. The new owners had replaced the wooden boards with clean glass windows. The interior was still cramped, but the windows helped give it the illusion of air and space.As Bentley walked through the door a small bell tinkled above his head. He shuddered at the sound; it brought back memor
Clarice frantically ran through the night. It was pitch black. The only light was coming from the fire that burned her house. The flames rose higher and higher. Her lover was caught inside. She ached all over; her arms and legs were burned badly. Blisters had formed on her feet and yet, she still kept running. She had to get help.It was the night of Samhain. This was the one night when the boundaries between the world of the living and the dead became blurred. This night spirits roamed the earth and magic was strong. Clarice headed toward a little hut in the woods. The druid priest lived there. He would be able to help.Ultan woke to hear loud knocking on his door. He opened the door to find a young woman in tattered clothes, her lovely face covered in ashes and her eyes full of dread. "Help me," she whispered then passed out.When she came to it was daylight. Her limbs had been bandaged and her burns were healing. She immediately
Camilla looked at the man and said,” Is this some kind of joke?” Percival sighed and said,” If it was then I would not have endeavoured to bring you back here in order to protect you or to keep you safe and secure. You know that I have not hurt you in any way and you are free to leave any time you want. But I took the risk of putting my own neck out there in front of the pack of wolves with whom I was supposed to sign a peace treaty just to protect you.” “And I am grateful for that. But why are you lying to me? There is no reason for you to tell me lies are there?” Camilla asked. “No. I am not lying. You might not know who I am and that itself proves that you know nothing about our worlds. And I have only told you the story in order to know if you are aware about the kind of person you are or where from you belong,” said Percival and Camilla sighed. “I know that I am a girl who had gone to the friend’s house who was known as Robert to her father, and