Chapter 10 Lucian #2
She tugs at the ropes one last time, her fingers slipping. "Son of a bitch! These damn things are impossible!"
Bubblegum Girl gently touches Emily's shoulder, her voice soothing. "Em, maybe we should try something else? We're running out of time."
Emily sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah, you're right. But I swear to god, if this asshole makes one more innuendo, I'm going to gag him with his own dick."
My eyebrows shoot up, my grin turning lecherous. "Promises, promises..."
Emily tugs at the ropes again, "Come on, you piece of shit knots," she mutters under her breath. "Untie, damn it!"
Suddenly, an invisible force emanates from Emily's hands, crackling the air with energy like a static shock on steroids. The ropes unravel as if commanded by an unseen power, slithering to the ground like serpents retreating from a charmer's flute.
Bubblegum Girl gasps, her pink hair seeming pale compared to the shock on her face. "How the hell did you do that?"
Emily stares at her hands, her eyes wide with disbelief and wonder. "I... I don't know."
I spring to my feet, rubbing my chafed wrists.
"Right, so what's the plan, ladies? Are we gonna stand around here waiting for the gruesome twosome to return, or are we getting out of Dodge?
Because as much as I love the ambiance of this place, I'd rather not stick around for the encore performance of 'Torture: The Musical. '"
I pause, my eyes darting between Emily and her hands, trying to process the mind-bending telekinetic badassery I just witnessed.
"But seriously, Rainbow Brite, that was some impressive shit.
I mean, I've seen some weird things in my time, like a midget wrestling a grizzly bear while wearing a tutu, but untying ropes with your mind?
That's a whole new level of fucked up. If you could do that with bras, you'd be every teenage boy's wet dream come true. Hell, you'd be my wet dream come true."
Emily shoots me a withering glare that could shrivel a man's balls at fifty paces, but I can see the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, betraying her amusement. "Really? That's where your mind goes? Teenage boys and bras? You're such a pig."
I shrug, a grin spreading across my face. "What can I say? I'm a man of simple tastes. And by simple, I mean perverted."
Bubblegum Girl clears her throat, her expression of amusement and impatience. "As much as I hate to interrupt this fascinating discussion, we really should get moving. I don't think Azrael and Paige will be too thrilled when they realize their prisoner has flown the coop."
I nod, my face turning serious for a moment. "Bubblegum Girl is right. We need to make like a tree and get the fuck out—"
As if summoned by my words, Azrael and Paige burst into the room, their faces twisted with rage. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the two bitches who helped set the trap," Paige sneers, with malice. "You witches are going to pay for all their deaths."
Uh-oh. What did these two do?
The tension in the air is palpable as Paige begins to chant in an ancient, guttural language that sounds like a mixture of nails on a chalkboard and a dying cat's last meow. Suddenly, with a roar, a ring of fire erupts around us, the flames leaping and dancing like a pack of starving, rabid wolves.
The heat is unbearable, searing my skin and singeing my hair, making it feel like I'm being roasted alive in the depths of Hell's own kitchen.
Rivers of sweat pour down my face, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision as I squint through the inferno, trying to discern whether this is just a vivid, alcohol-induced nightmare or if I'm actually about to become a crispy, vampire-flavored snack.
"Uhhh, now what the fuck do we do?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the flames.
"I don't suppose either of you has a fire extinguisher hidden in your ass?
Or maybe a magical 'get out of hellfire free' card?
Because I'm pretty sure my vampire healing factor doesn't cover 'death by supernatural barbecue. '"
Azrael prowls around the fire's perimeter like a predator stalking its prey, his features contorted to make him look like a demented, constipated gargoyle.
"No one is leaving this place," he snarls.
"You will all burn, your ashes scattered to the winds, your souls forever trapped in the depths of my master's darkest, most nightmarish realm. "
But Bubblegum Girl, her neon pink locks shimmering like a beacon of hope amid the chaos, refuses to be cowed by Azrael's threats. "Emily, take my hand!" she shouts, her words laced with a desperate, unyielding determination.
Without hesitation, Emily reaches out, their fingers intertwining in unity and strength, their hands clasped together like a lifeline during the storm.
Together, they begin to chant in a haunting melody that seems to resonate with the very fabric of reality. As their words grow in power, the flames start to flicker and retreat as if cowering before their combined might, the once-threatening ring of fire now little more than a sputtering candle.
Seizing the moment, Azrael lunges for Bubblegum Girl.
His hands outstretched like claws, his face a mask of pure, rage.
I react on instinct, launching myself at him and wrapping my arms around his neck in a vise-like grip, my muscles straining with the effort.
I may not know who these girls are, but they're here to help me, and I'll be damned if I let this bastard lay a finger on them.
"Sorry, pal," I grunt, my breath hot against his ear. "But I'm afraid I can't let you touch the merchandise. These ladies are under my protection now, and you know what they say: never touch a man's bubblicious babes."
Azrael thrashes against my hold, his elbows slamming into my ribs with bruising force, each blow sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I grit my teeth, refusing to relinquish my grasp, my determination fueled by a desperate need to protect these strangers who risked everything to save me.
"Is that all you got?" I taunt, my voice strained with the effort of keeping him restrained. "I've had grandmas' hit harder than you. And they were dead at the time."
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse Paige. Her face contorted into a grotesque mask of hatred. Her eyes blaze with a manic, hellish light as she unleashes a torrent of flames toward Emily and Bubblegum Girl, the searing heat of the inferno palpable even from across the room.
But Emily, in a stunning display of selfless bravery, leaps in front of her friend, her hands raised before her as if to shield them both from the onslaught.
Her vibrant, rainbow-hued hair whips around her face in a dazzling kaleidoscope of color, starkly contrasting the sinister, angry red of the flames bearing down upon her.
And then, to the shock and disbelief of everyone present, the fire bounces off an invisible barrier surrounding Emily, dissipating into nothingness as they meet her unwavering resolve.
It's as if she's encased in a bubble of pure, indomitable willpower, forming an impenetrable shield against Paige's malicious onslaught.
Bubblegum Girl stares at Emily, her jaw hanging open in a perfect "O" of astonishment, her eyes wide with disbelief. It's clear that even she, with all her magical knowledge and experience, has never witnessed anything quite like this before.
"What the hell are you? What have you done?!" Paige screeches, her voice shrill and laced with fear and unease.
And then, in a moment that will be forever seared into my memory (and not just because of the third-degree burns), Emily goes full-on Human Torch, her hands thrusting outward as she unleashes a blistering torrent of flames directly at Paige.
It's like watching a scene from a Michael Bay movie on steroids, except instead of Megan Fox, we've got a pissed-off Rainbow Brite with the power to shoot fire from her fingertips.
Paige is engulfed in flames in a matter of seconds, her agonized screams reverberating through the room. The stench of burning flesh and hair fills the air, making me wonder if this is what KFC smells like in the ninth circle of Hell.
As the flames die down, leaving behind only a smoldering, unrecognizable husk that was once Paige, Emily stares at her hands in shock and disbelief. "I... I didn't know I could do that," she whispers, her voice trembling with awe and fear.
Meanwhile, Azrael continues to struggle against my unrelenting grip. His movements grow weaker by the second, and his breath comes in ragged gasps.
"Nooo, goddammit." he gurgles through my choke hold.
I bear down, my muscles straining with the effort, and drive him to the ground, the impact jarring my bones.
In a last-ditch attempt to break free, he tries to flip me off him, his body writhing beneath me like a snake caught in a trap.
But I tighten my hold, my molars cracking from the sheer force, my arms locked around his neck like a noose.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," I whisper, with mock sympathy. "Just go to sleep, big guy. I promise, when you wake up, you'll be in a better place—like hell, for example."
Then, with a sickening snap, Azrael goes limp in my arms, his body as lifeless as a rag doll.
The room falls silent, save for the heavy panting of the three of us, the echoes of the battle still ringing in our ears.
Rainbow Brite and Bubblegum Girl stare at me, their expressions of awe and horror.
I release Azrael's lifeless body, my hands shaking as the reality of what I've done sinks in, the weight of his death settling on my shoulders like a physical burden.
"Deaths?" I ask, my voice hoarse, my throat raw from the smoke and the screaming. "Who's death's? What the hell did you two do to piss off Tweedledee and Tweedledum so badly? Did you steal their matching set of 'I'm with stupid' t-shirts?"
Bubblegum Girl shakes her head, her pink locks bouncing with the movement. "It's a long story, and we don't have time to explain. We need to get the hell out of here before Azrael wakes up and reinforcements arrive."
Ok, so he's not dead. Right. Vampire.
I nod, pushing myself to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me as the adrenaline wears off. My body aches, and my mind reels with questions, but I know she's right. We need to put as much distance between ourselves and this nightmare and find a place to regroup and plan our next move.
"Alright, let's blow this popsicle stand," I say, cracking my neck and stretching my arms above my head. "But for the record, I expect a full explanation later. And maybe a foot rub. I've had a hell of a day."
As we flee the castle, the weight of the unknown hangs heavy on my shoulders, the darkness of the night pressing in on us from all sides. Who are these girls, and what have they done to incur the wrath of those psychopaths?
"So," I pant, glancing sideways at my new companions as we pile into their car, which looks like it's seen better days.
The upholstery is torn, the dashboard is cracked, and the whole thing smells like a mix of stale cigarettes and desperation.
It beats walking—or running—or being burned alive by a fire-wielding psychopath.
"Anyone up for a celebratory round of tequila shots?
First round's on me. And by 'on me,' I mean 'stolen from the nearest liquor store,' because let's face it, I'm probably broke, right? "
Emily rolls her eyes. "Seriously? We just narrowly escaped being barbecued by a couple of supernatural nutjobs, and you're thinking about tequila?"
I shrug, flashing her my most charming grin. "What can I say? I have my priorities straight. Besides, after the night we've had, I think we've earned a little liquid courage. And maybe some nachos—Definitely nachos."