Chapter 10 Emmie
Emmie
We passed through a dense forest for a long while before it began to clear, the village emerging in the distance.
The red sun crests the horizon behind us, the moon flames just beginning to appear as we enter the outskirts of the village.
Small cottages and houses cluster together, lights flickering behind closed windows, the rush of the river not far away.
Portarius told me what I should expect, or at least the names that I would know them by, and I think I’ll be alright.
I mean, I researched all kinds of mythical creatures before I even visited the Gate, so I guess it will be like visiting a zoo.
Except the animals aren't in enclosures.
And they could kill my body.
And take my soul ... but who's really keeping track?
The damned aren't on the streets after dark.
They go to what I would call a prison, but I don't know if you could truly call it that, given what they are.
Apparently, they are the aftermath of when you die on Earth and are served a punishment for your sins.
How we believe you end up in Hell to be tortured by demons, this is just a different version of that.
They are conscious but do not have a critical mind.
They simply exist like a zombie, a shell of a being.
Portarius did confirm zombies are in fact a thing, but they don't belong in this realm. Thank fuck.
Figures in the dark stop to stare at us as we ride along the main road into the village.
Equina takes heavy steps, the ground vibrating with each stomp.
But even in the dim light, she is a thing of beauty, her brass adornments glinting as her mane moves in the gentle breeze.
We spent the entire day on her back with the exception of a few toilet breaks, and I have never wanted a bath or shower more.
Also, let's not forget that I came from Portarius' attention. The way his thumbs massaged my pussy was other worldly. I’ve never come like that before.
I know he was rubbing my hips, but his hands are so big that other things were touched along the way.
I don't even know if he understood what happened, is it weird if I bring it up?
Oh hey, you know when I was a whimpering mess at the start of the day, yeah, I got off and it was so good I want to do it again.
No doubt, if I say that to him he will need an explanation on what ‘getting off’ means and there's no way I'm going into the birds and the bees with him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I’ve been on a horse all day and I don't have any underwear … What if I’ve stained the saddle? Of course I partook in public sexual acts and my pussy dripped on the seat. Rubbing my hand over my face, I want to die of embarrassment.
Singing and music drifts through the air as we come to a stop outside of what looks like a tavern, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.
Factor in the cum-saddle, and I'm positively fucking frazzled. I’m about to come face to face with monsters I've only seen in books or on a screen.
Hollywood movies don't count because they water it down so much that vampires sparkle.
Portarius seems to feel my mood darkening and lifts me into his arms as he gracefully dismounts Equina.
I'm surrounded by his fresh spring scent, his body comforting as apprehension rolls through me. Equina shakes her head, a shiver spreading across her body as she moves a few steps and takes a drink from a water trough. I’ve ridden a horse once before but that didn't prepare me for the burning pain in my hips.
I try to stay silent but I can't contain the hiss that escapes when I stretch them out as my toes touch the ground.
“I will rub your tender body soon. I’m sorry you are hurting from our travels,” he says, leaning down, pressing his fingers into my lower back and hips, easing an involuntary groan from me.
He massaged them three separate times throughout the day, and each time was pure heaven.
Albeit I only came once, it doesn't stop me squeezing my thighs together, my greedy pussy hoping for round two.
Taking his hand, I limp after him as he pushes the tavern door open, where the loud music and chatter hits us with full force.
The tavern hall is moody, with a dark wooden roof and scattered oil lamps glowing throughout the space.
It’s packed with an assortment of monsters and creatures perched at the bar leaners, chatting and laughing over an ale.
There’s a man with white hair and ice blue eyes in a suit, leaning against the far wall, a tail flicking behind him.
Okay, so maybe he’s not a man. He's talking with a gaunt looking humanoid monster, an imp, maybe? Flannel and denim cover a group of burly mountain men playing darts in the corner, except one of them seems to be a wolf. A Hellhound? They’re all gruff looking and seem to be having a competition with a group of tall, beautiful people who look like models.
So a vampire? This could be any of the local pubs back home.
Definitely not comparable to a zoo after all.
Unfortunately for me, there's also a damned who appears seemingly from nowhere, standing barely an inch from my face. Startled, a yelp slips past my lips. It’s hot, sticky breath and gaunt, vacant eyes stare at me so intently that I step back into Portarius.
Pushing my face into his side, I collect my thoughts as the tavern hall falls quiet.
I can feel almost every pair of eyes watching me as a familiar warm hand spreads across my back.
“Enough!” Portarius growls, and I clench my eyes even tighter.
A loud howl of laughter comes from somewhere in the hall, followed by what feels like everyone else before the normal chatter resumes.
I had intended to slip under the radar and blend in.
I figured I would get a few looks because humans are rare, apparently, but this is something else.
I was already a fish out of water, but now everyone knows I'm here and even worse, that I'm scared.
I feel like an idiot.
My only interaction with the creatures from Hell have been a psychotic spider and a giant Gatekeeper, who gives big puppy energy. There's no comparing which one I feel safer with, but it doesn't stop the ever present blush creeping up my neck. I yelped. Mortified is an understatement.
His large hands wrap around my waist, and I'm lifted into the safety of his arms as I burrow closer into him. He has a quiet conversation with someone or something, and we’re led through a series of doors before there is nothing but the quiet crack of a fire and my unsteady breath.
“Are you well, Emmie?” he whispers timidly.
“I'm embarrassed, Portarius. That creepy fuck came out of nowhere … I wasn't prepared. I know we talked about the damned but to have it right there. Its breath was rotten and its eyes … they were so hollow.”
My voice trails off as he holds me against his chest. I was so confident, and now I feel like I've botched the whole thing up. I’m meant to be this strong capable woman who was going ghost hunting for fucks sakes.
I don't crumble in situations like these.
I was prepared to meet a demon at the hot springs but instead of them coming into my world, a world I understood.
I've been woefully thrust into theirs, leaving me off-kilter.
“It is just the two of us now. Steve will bring us sustenance shortly, and Equina has found her usual room next to ours—”
“Equina has a bedroom?” I ask, cutting him off, pulling back so I can see his face. Horses have bedrooms in Hell? Do I dare ask if an ensuite is included?
Chuckling, his smile wide and inviting, “No, she has a stable. It is an adjoining room for travellers, but these are built for us, larger species.”
The short, sharp knock at the door startles me, and Portarius turns to open it, holding me tightly in his arms. I keep a tight leash on the sounds that were threatening to escape me.
Ya girl is on edge. In the doorway to our room stands a monster who is as mountainous as the Gatekeeper holding me.
His skin is a deep olive, almost grey, with two large tusks protruding from his bottom row of teeth.
He holds a large tray of food as he grunts in greeting, pushing past us and placing the tray down on the table.
Immediately, he leaves, waving his hand goodbye and shutting the door behind him.
“Thank you, Steve,” Portarius calls out after him.
“That's Steve?” I practically gape. The Steve’s back home could never.
“You would know him as an orc, but when he moved here a long time ago, he wanted a quieter life. I helped him build this section of the tavern and his living quarters. There are not many of our size who roam this realm, but he wanted to be accommodating to all species.”
“Steve the orc, huh?”
“Yes, sweet Emmie. Are you hard of hearing? Do you need me to repeat it?” His brow is dipped in concern, and I smile at him. There's something to be said about being attached to a sexy eight foot, giant bronzed Gatekeeper.
The room is tidy and the wooden furniture is the perfect size for Portarius.
I need to ask about what other species are as large as them.
Wait, are there bears in Hell? Bear men?
I mean, I wouldn't be opposed. Several oil lamps are lit, and scattered through the space along with a flickering fire in a stone hearth.
Surprisingly, it smells clean, pleasant.
Sage? I just assumed burning sulphur would be the fragrance of choice.
A brazier of flaming coals in place of potpourri.
He lowers me to the ground, and I run my fingertips across the bed linen before pushing open the only other door in the room to reveal a bathroom, my mouth salivating at the sight of a generously sized hot tub.
Excellent.
I immediately turn on the taps, almost weeping at the feel of hot water running out of the exposed copper plumbing.
“A soak will be good for your muscles, but you must eat first,” Portarius says, standing just inside the bathroom doorway. “Allow me to feed you.”