"Well, well, well. Although I've certainly been having a
marvelous
time, and I know the rest of you would wholeheartedly
agree
, there remains one pesky little thorn in my side -- one irritatingly coarse celery string that I just can't seem to dislodge from my teeth.
"I am speaking, of course, of the one remaining member of your group who, despite all our efforts of persuasion, still resists. Now, in my younger years, I might have admired his stubbornness, his will power. But I suppose I must be losing my patience for this sort of thing.
"You'd think he would have slipped up, or wavered at some point, but no matter. If the usual means have failed to bring him over, I'm afraid we'll have to resort to more ...
drastic
measures. Emily, Jen, Julie, Rachel, Vanessa!"
The five contentedly controlled females floated into the courtyard, from various adjoining rooms, and formed a line in front of Menudia.
"I will send the girls he has the biggest crushes on, to make it even more excruciating for him. I believe you are the ones?"
The quintet of offhandedly sexy undergrads smiled dutifully and replied, "Yes, Menudia."
"Perfect! Please bring him to me -- here, inside the castle, directly in front of my throne. Oh -- and completely untaken. You see, I want us to take him ...
together
."
*****
By this point, he simply didn't know where else to hide.
For the last hour or so, Mason had found himself hunkered down inside a large, empty, burnt-out tree stump. Not exactly the Waldorf Astoria, but it seemed to be the only place within walking distance where he sensed that they couldn't truly spot him.
When he'd tried to make his way toward the general store?
Menudians
. When he'd tried to head back toward the barn?
Menudians
.
Ah, well. He'd had a good run though. Evening was coming on again. He was hungry, he was sore, he could hardly keep his eyes open. Perhaps, against all logic, he held out hope that those clusters of taken souls might scurry away in the night, giving him the chance to finally break out of the village for good?
Yet just as that thin sliver of belief struck him, he noticed five familiar figures gliding down from the tree tops and making a direct beeline toward what he had erroneously assumed was an effective hiding place.
Although he could see that they were all wearing new outfits by now -- outfits that differed from the ones they'd worn to the picnic -- these outfits were still generally in character with the girls' usual, pre-Menudian wardrobe, and were also outfits that, to both his chagrin and delight, each of them looked distractingly hot in.
Jen was still dressed in the soft, white, oversized "Menudian Girl" t-shirt and jean shorts she'd just worn during Haley's massage, her dark brown hair freed from its ponytail and floating against her cheeks and ears. Although she was certainly the shortest of the girls, her choice of t-shirt size had presumably been a deliberate, stylistic one (given the variety of size options that were surely available in Menudia's castle), Jen seemingly enjoying the sensation of the cozy cotton sleeves fluttering against her elbows as a contrast to the denim shorts sturdily hugging her hips and crotch.
Emily, likewise having just returned from Haley's massage, was still sporting her preppie-tastic blue short-sleeve polo shirt and matching denim mini-skirt combo, the gold clip parting her blonde hair on the right side adding a deceptively innocent, girl-next-door flavor to her appearance.
Similarly, Julie was wearing the outfit she'd debuted during Curt's recent massage: untucked button-up dress shirt sporting vertical white and navy blue stripes, matched with blue jeans, her light brown hair trailing down her back in a swaying ponytail, a few stray locks tickling her glasses.
Rachel had apparently taken the opportunity after her expert ensnaring of Ellis to change into a light green square neck mini sundress -- not too dissimilar from the dress Julie had been wearing when she'd been taken -- paired with a cropped white short-sleeve knit sweater, her reddish-brown hair pinned back behind her ears in a bun.
And Vanessa was still rocking that white crop top/short black leather skirt combo that Curt had clearly enjoyed emptying himself into, her usually straight black hair exhibiting faint traces of the electric shock it had undergone.
They had come to take Mason. And this time, they weren't messing around.
Emily and Jen jointly swooped inside the stump, clutched him by one arm each, and lifted him into the air. He jerked, he kicked, he wrestled ... all to no avail.
"
There
you are, Mason," Jen stated with a tone reminiscent of a cat owner having finally spotted her fluffy feline.
"Wait, I'm ... I'm ... you've got the wrong Mason!"
"Nice try, darling," Vanessa replied. "You're coming with us."
"I'm his twin brother, he went that-a-way! Put me down! Put me down! Get the fuck off me!!"
"Orders from Menudia," Rachel added gleefully.
He squirmed and twisted with every inch of his wiry Mediterranean frame, but it was proving to be futile. Menudia had somehow provided the girls with an almost supernatural level of strength.
"Keep trying to resist," Julie taunted. "It's cute."
After affectionately rubbing the front of his beige sweater, she wrapped her arms around his left leg, Rachel taking his right leg shortly afterward. Together, the four of them, with a serene Vanessa trailing closely behind, ascended into the atmosphere, having successfully snagged their prey.
Although they hadn't bothered to mention where they were taking him, somehow he knew. He needed to steel himself, defend himself, anticipate and counter every move the demon would make.
But with the forest and the hillsides speeding beneath him, and the sensation of Emily, Jen, Julie, and Rachel's unabashedly available bodies clutching his limbs, he could barely concentrate. His only chance was to dig deep within his own reservoir of determination. He was going to give it everything he had.
As the girls gracefully swooped down between the stone watchtowers, across the courtyard, and under the brass ornament that glittered above the large pair of doors, they brought Mason into the grand hall.
Even if he hadn't deliberately chosen to close his eyes, they would have closed shut on instinct anyway, as he felt the brightest ball of luminosity he'd ever known smacking him in the face. Then, without fanfare, that ball of luminosity began to speak.
"Ah, Mason, we meet at last -- as I knew we would."
His voice was a haggard croak. "You know everything, of course ... you can probably name all 50 states in alphabetical order ..."
"And here's that famous wit of yours. Lightens one's load, does it not? Perhaps you and I already share a common sensibility. Although you might find my sense of humor to be a bit more on the ... sadistic side."
"You know what's
really
funny? You thinking you can ever ... turn me into one of them ..."
"So
confident
, aren't we? Girls, do you hear the confidence? Tell me, where does this wellspring of confidence come from? Surely not from your prior relations with women?"
"It comes ... from a book I read ... called
How to Resist Menudia ... in Ten Easy Steps
."
"Ten? You need ten? I'm honored. I thought someone like you could do it in five."
"Only if you press me ..."
"Tell me, Mason, just so I understand. Why is it so critical, so absolutely paramount, that you resist me?"
"Is this for your thesis? Am I explaining myself to the ... Ph.D. candidate?"
"No, not a thesis,
per se
, but your insinuation about research isn't quite so far off, as you'll see. You know what I think? I think you need to explain yourself ... to yourself. Why deny yourself the very thing you want?"