October Leapt

Just a fun, silly, raunchy mix of fantasy, horror and a touch of SciFi. Lots and lots of sex; straight sex, lesbian sex, group sex, along with everyone's favorite: tentacle sex. Witches, vampires, thralls and mad scientists fighting over Power.

This has several nods to Zelazny's incredible "A Night in the Lonesome October." I re-read that every October, along with "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." But it also takes a lot of inspiration from online RPGs, anime and hentai.

I never met him, so I have no idea if Zelazny would absolutely hate this or not, but a lot of Zelazny fans are nerds and geeks, like me, and nerds and geeks often read sexually explicit material like Literotica and read/watch hentai porn. At least the ones I know do.

October Leapt

A clash of witches, vampires, icons...and tentacles

______

Sanctuary

"Sanctuary."

The bald, black suit-clad nightclub bouncer eyed me laconically. "I don't think so."

"Hold on."

I reached into my windbreaker pocket and he shook his head. "Not happening, there isn't a big enough bribe to let you in. All you need is orthopedic shoes to complete that look. You're almost there."

"Really?" I glanced down at my Skechers. He kind-of had a point.

"Really. Move on. There's a sports bar about five blocks south of here, it'd be more your style."

"Probably, but I really need to go in here."

"Not fuckin' happening." He drew himself up to his full six-foot-six height. Behind him, an even larger man, lazily pulled his immense frame off the wall and began to lumber over.

They were intimidating as Hell. Either one looked like they could stomp me to jelly without much effort.

I pulled my hand out of my pocket and held it up.

"Shit." The bouncer stepped back and waved his partner to stop. "Is that real?"

"It is." I shrugged.

"Shit." He intoned again, almost as a ward against evil, as he eyed the huge emerald-cut ruby with its gold runic inset.

His partner leaned forward and studied it as well. "Doesn't really matter if it is real. That Icon says he's 'The Shadow.' If he knows enough to make that good of a fake... he's too far in already. Let him pass. The Game has a way of taking care of cheaters on its own. VIP Lounge is in the back"

I blinked, the huge low browed, lantern jawed man wouldn't have been my pick for the genius of the two, but even his voice sounded strangely cultured.

"Fucking Players." The first bouncer unhooked the rope and waved me in, much to the shock of the gaggle of very scantily dressed women behind me.

I shrugged again. "Hate the Game, not the Players."

He just growled derisively.

I could understand the shock and disbelief of the bouncer. I don't look special. I don't feel particularly special either, for whatever that is worth.

Pushing through the crowd, nearly deafened by the pounding music, I headed for the back- all the way to the VIP Lounge.

The mass of people was...well, 'diverse' probably isn't near strong enough to give the right impression. Humans of every stripe from street punks to centerfolds were grinding almost impartially on each other on the dancefloor. A small, lithe catgirl was making out with a male bodybuilder in one corner, most of their clothing lay on the floor; she was a calico with a real, rather twitchy, tail; so the word "people" was stretched to its limit here. In another corner, an almost seven foot tall woman was locking lips and groping a short slim guy I recognized as a rap singer. And those were the milder examples.

The sexual energy was through the roof. Some of that was normal high-end molly-and-ex driven nightclub energy...but a lot of it was the arcane energy generated by the Game. We were approaching the climax of the Game, and the chaotic sexual energy in the air had built to almost unbearable levels. Here near the center of a ley pattern, near All-Hallow's Eve, it was pouring through the Veil like waves from the sea.

It's the nature of magic.

Magic is built on primal energy. Anger, hate, fear, loneliness, and resentment are significant potential sources of mana, but for sheer power, nothing beats sex. Mating is the most basic primal drive of humans, mammals - Hell, almost all animals, many plants and even a few assorted fungi, lichens and molds. Cults often use anger and hate to summon, but for most of them, there's an orgy or two thrown in there for damn good reasons.

Sitting on crossed ley lines, Sanctuary was a node of power all the time even without a Game in progress; much more so now.

Which explained why the trio of rather attractive - almost identical - female bartenders appeared to be quietly rubbing themselves off between fixing drinks.

I held my gem up as I approached the guard to the VIP lounge; he just gave a single nod and slid the door open for me.

As the door slid shut behind me and the blasting noise dropped to almost not-painful levels; the muffled thump of the music soaked in through the floors and walls, more seismic than sonic in the VIP lounge.

I took stock of the room.

Scattered tables and lounge sets, with the wait staff scurrying to bring food and drink to the no-doubt well-paying customers.

My contact wasn't immediately evident, so I moved over to a tall side table with two chairs.

A very pretty waiter in a black formal dinner jacket and red six-inch heels came up and gave me a look, but whatever he or she was thinking wasn't showing in thier heavily-kohled eyes. "Your order, sir?"

I didn't answer immediately and they looked me over, taking in my less-than-upscale clothing. "Players' drinks and food are to be put on Sanctuary's tab, as a courtesy."

That was a relief; contrary to his conclusions, money wasn't really a problem for me, but a meal or drink might cost more than just money in a place where the ley lines cross. I quickly ordered a rum and coke, sat back, and watched the crowd.

Crossing the threshold of Sanctuary before the End Game was mandatory for Players who don't want to end up a fine pink mist in the final act. Magic doesn't always make sense, but it has very immutable rules. So some of my fellow Players were certainly here somewhere.

Most of the crowd didn't garner any concern; typical high-end nightclub crawlers. But there were a few that did catch my eye.

Two women with black hair; one was a red-hot wet dream busty grade-A MILF, the other was very attractive, very slender, and very probably just barely out of her teens. Both were dressed in black. They were clearly closely related from their features. Probably a mother and her daughter. The way they looked warily around the room made me think they almost had to be Players; they were sitting alone and hardly seemed like they were here for a good time.

Past a group of NFL players loudly having a good time, I could see a dark emaciated figure in an oversize black hoodie crouched protectively over an untouched drink, gloved hands cupping it. The face was too deep in shadow to see. Definitely a Player. And an extra creepy one at that.

A "very wealthy former cheerleader and jock" couple, all tans, plastic surgery, and bleached teeth at another table were chatting up a fairly fit retired banker-and-wife looking couple; all of them radiated confidence and power. Maybe Players, maybe just uber-rich swingers, maybe both; I couldn't really tell. The upside-down pineapple pattern Hawaiian shirts the two men were wearing and the matching earrings on the two women made it clear that, Players or not, they were swinging.

Then I saw him.

Wilhelm Strigoi, with his weird little sidekick, Yoshi. Two girls were with them - cute, obviously hyper-excited little numbers that had to be just out of high school, thrilled to be here in the club, thrilled to be his guests at one of the hottest nightclubs on Earth.

The problem was that they weren't really his guests.

They were his dinner.

Fuck that.

I got up and walked straight for them.

As soon as our eyes met, Wilhelm held his hands up and open, leaning back into his chair with an amused smile.

"Evan. You can't touch me here. Sanctuary." He raised a smug eyebrow. His barely-there cultured Prussian accent was as smooth as ever and I could see both of the young girls, all of probably eighteen or nineteen, listening to him dreamily.

"Rules are rules, Willy. But that goes both ways."

I pulled a chair over and pushed between the two girls to sit directly across from Wilhelm.

He smirked. He thought he was perfect; the problem being that he damn near was. Perfect blond hair, perfect smile, perfect clear blue eyes, perfect insanely expensive silk suit. Perfect fine Italian leather shoes. Perfect $100K wristwatch.

Honestly, what kind of pretentious asshole spends that kind of money on a watch?

"God, Willy, it's been what, six months?"

He smiled his perfect smile. "Berlin was beautiful, wasn't it?"

Yoshi just stared at me, dead all-black eyes boring through me with no emotion at all. Yoshi had probably been an average cute Japanese girl at one point. Now she was a collage of tattoos and piercings - three lip rings, dimple piercings on her cheeks, a nose ring, copious earrings, piercings in her eyebrows, along with thick nipple rings that I could see clearly through her black mesh top. Metal stud piercings ran in several rows down her flat stomach. Those were only the visible ones, I was more than certain she had many more covered by what little clothing she wore, which consisted of her see-through top, black leather micro shorts, fishnet stockings and a pair of clunky black combat boots. Weird runic tattoos covered most of her body, arms and legs, crept up her neck and covered half her face. The whites of her eyes and her lips had been tattooed black as well. All topped off by a brilliant hot pink punk haircut.

She was an odd counterpart for the perfectly dressed, perfectly cultured Wilhelm. But I supposed that was deliberate.

I sighed, registering the confusion from the two girls. I glanced at them and smiled a terse smile. "Willy and I go back a ways. You girls just met him, right?"

One giggled. "He pulled us out of the line and brought us in...to the VIP lounge! Oh, I'm Abby, this is Whitney."

"Yeah, Willy's like that, Real salt of the earth kind of guy. Sees a couple girls, invites them in."

"He's amazing!" Whitney gushed, looking over him with dreamy eyes.

"He is just about perfect. Looks like one of those too-cool vampires in the movies, doesn't he?"

Both girls giggled.

"Are you two planning on double-teaming him? Yoshi here wouldn't care. Hell, she'd probably stand there holding towels and lube for you."

Yoshi didn't react at all; she just kept her stare leveled at me, silent as a grave.

Whitney blushed and looked down. Abby shrugged, trying to look cool and worldly, not really pulling it off. "Maybe we will."

"Not a bad plan...You know, Willy here has a huge schlong. It is every bit of thirteen inches, swear to God."

The two girls' jaws dropped open, looking both amazed and shocked.

The amusement passed from Wilhem's face. "Leave."

I ignored him. "Willy's perfect. Crazy rich, a huge dick, damn good looking. I mean, just look at his hair..." I shook my head slowly. "It's flawless."

"Evan. Leave now." Wilhelm's mouth tightened to a grim line.

"Just one little problem..."

Wilhelm suddenly went rigid, the iron grip of Sanctuary freezing him in place as soon as he lost his temper and reached for violence. Since Wilhelm could have torn through the pack of NFL players without even slowing down, I was pretty happy Sanctuary had rules. And the power to enforce them.

"See, Willy is the real thing, a real vampire, it's not just an act. One day, many, many years ago, Willy had just finished banging the very cute little asses off a couple honest-to-God Princesses from one of those tiny little European countries that don't exist anymore... I heard they were identical twins, believe it or not...anyway, he was laying back, thinking about how good life was. He had everything - great looks, tons of money, a dick the size of an elephant trunk, and gorgeous pussy just throwing itself at him every day, ten times a day. Just imagine how that felt. It was as good as it was ever going to get. Then...well, he realized it really

was

as good as it ever was going to get. There was nowhere to go but down."

The girls looked at him. His eyes blazed blood red with fury, veins stood out in black lines across his face, but he was still paralyzed. They cringed and looked back at me fearfully.

"So Willy became a bargain-baby. He made a deal with someone...or, well, something. I don't know the details of just who...or what. Just that the Countess Elizabeth Bathory, was the go-between." I leaned back and stared into Willy's eyes. "Big power there; Elizabeth is normally way above playing errand girl. Either way, he got his wish and became one of the Undead. It didn't actually turn him into a monster. He was a monster long before that; he was a very nasty serial killer who tortured, raped and murdered his victims. His money and status protected him."

"Wow." Whitney whispered; eyes wide. Wilhelm's frozen rage-twisted countenance, red-lit eyes and the sudden appearance of jagged hyena teeth made it clear I was telling the truth.

"Yeah, wow. A real vampire, how cool is that?" I shook my head. "I mean, it isn't the delicate needle like canines they show in the movies, obviously, but...still. Super strong, super-fast, never age, it sounds awesome, doesn't it?"

The two girls kind of nodded, but even as cool as the idea of meeting a real vampire was, the sight of Wilhem's unhinged real self was unnerving them.

"Except nobody ever looks at the fine print, do they, Willy?"

He choked out a growl. Yoshi stayed still.

I looked at the girls. "He's Undead. As in...not alive. Which means no heartbeat. Which means no blood flow. Which means no hard-ons. Willy's willy is worthless. A thirteen-inch long, coke-can-thick dong, and it is absolutely useless. Except to pee."

"He can't have sex?" Even the shock of seeing Wilhelm's ugly side was somewhat muted by the magic powered sex-drive all around us. Abby still looked a little disappointed.

"Well, that is not entirely true, he can have sex. He even enjoys it." I pulled out my cell phone.

Wilhelm 's face turned purple-black in absolute rage, but the power of Sanctuary kept him pinned. He really needed to learn to watch that temper of his.

I lay the phone on the table and pressed play. Both girls gasped in horror.

In the video, Wilhelm Strigoi was bent deeply over a coffee table, presenting his perfectly sculpted rock-hard butt to Yoshi as she rammed him hard and fast up the ass with a huge black strap-on dildo that was even bigger than his own enormous, limp, flopping dick. He was moaning and crying and begging for more, harder, faster, which an emotionless Yoshi gave to him like a machine, her lean, muscular little butt hammering the giant dildo in and out remorselessly. With tears streaming from his eyes, he finally roared and a splutter of cum weakly dribbled out of his still-limp hose.

Both girls sat in silent shock.

"Willy, you really need to learn the perils of hotels with staff that can be bribed." I winked at him, eliciting a choking sound. "So you see, Ladies, he doesn't really have much use for you...except as dinner. Do you Willy?"

His face was back to rage-red, but he was able to speak through bared teeth. "Fuck off Evan. I'm so glad I killed that pretty little girl."

"No, you didn't kill her. Asshole. I killed her. Because you turned her into a monster."

The little girl in Berlin hadn't been mature enough, hadn't had a strong enough will to control herself after being turned; she became a mindless, vicious little beast that savagely attacked anything in her path. Somebody had to put her down. Unfortunately, that someone was me.

Wilhelm was absolutely going to pay for that someday. Someday very soon. Someplace outside of Sanctuary.

"It's not like the movies, ladies. There's no romantic swoon as he delicately sips your blood. Real vampires rip your neck open and feed on your blood and the pain of your death agonies." I dropped a necklace in front of each girl. "Not perfect, but they should do to keep him away from you." Wilhelm turned his head away from the sight. "Silver crucifixes blessed by Saint Augustine herself. Run along."

I watched the two girls grab the crosses, flee across the floor and out.

"Looks like dinner is ruined, Wilhelm. Maybe you can order out some pizza."

"You're an asshole, Evan." Wilhelm hissed that through gritted teeth.

Yoshi still watched me through her dead black eyes.

I fixed on the slender figure who had come up behind Wilhelm while we talked; she had an amused look on her elegant face. Black pinstripe suit, short jacket, white button-down shirt with a black tie. I stood and gave a single nod to her.

She nodded back, her tight beaded cornrow braids barely shifting. I hadn't been expecting the representative from Corporate to be quite so decorative. The tall, thin, fine-featured black woman was clearly entertained by the whole situation.

"Mr. Keller? I believe we have a meeting if you can break away from your amusements."

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course....Miss?"

"Naomi. Just Naomi. This way." She led on, That was fine with me; watching the woman walk ahead of me was certainly a pleasant distraction. Those long legs capped out with a round, firm butt that jutted back invitingly in a way that very few women could replicate.

She led me to a raised table on a platform in the back, where we would have what privacy was available.

The mother-daughter pair tracked us openly; the rest were better about not directly watching, but I could tell they were keeping tabs.

After the Corporate rep stepped onto the platform, she shot a look over her shoulder at me. "So now that you've had a good look at my admittedly fine ass, we can get to our business." She shot me a wink to let me know she wasn't at all offended by any interest I may have taken.

I chuckled and sat across from her. She pushed a folder across the table to me and opened her own matching one. "Page one lists the icons we know for certain are in play. You, The Twain, The Scholar, The Coven, and, obviously, The Beast, have all crossed the Grand Threshold, so they are within thirty leagues of Sanctuary. We can't be sure who has entered Sanctuary itself and 'tagged in early' as it were. Others may be here, probably are; the algorithms are more than a bit confused at this point. Too much magic right now, it's like swimming in molasses." She flipped a page. "Page two lists the icons that we are certain are not in play. You know about The Whore..."

"How is Amy anyway?"

"Not amused. Six months in custody for smuggling human remains. She has a bone to pick with you over that." She smirked at her own pun. I was starting to think I liked her.

I grinned. "All I did was remote trigger her vibrator so the customs officials would look into her bags in detail."

White teeth flashed as she returned my grin. "So a girl can't have any fun anymore?"

"A girl shouldn't pack her remote-operated vibrator in a bag of human bones."

"That is in rather poor taste."

"I did Amy a favor. She's really far too nice and far too selfless of a person to have been dragged into the Game in the first place." I grimaced. "And things are starting to get too rough for her."

"She's a Closer."

"I don't want to see her die. Wilhelm got a good look at her in Berlin. With his senses he could identify her heartbeat from 500 yards, and track her by scent for miles. If he saw her again, getting killed would be the nicest thing that could happen to her." I didn't want to even think about having to put Amy down.