Dead and Horny

Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne back with the next chapter of "What If? Marvel Hired Me and I Got Cancelled for Writing Smut Instead of Traditional Spider-man!"

(Though no joke, wtf is even going on with Spiderman, poor guy)

New readers, rejoice! This is the perfect chapter to start if being lost and confused is your kink! This is a sequel to a spinoff to a series where a guy gets a blowie from a nymph and now we're over a million words in. Even I'm not sure how we got here.

(I am also drunk as I post this, but that's what I get for losing track of what day it is)

Returning reader? Welcome back! I've been so super busy with all sorts of IRL stuff (if you know, you know, 😉) but wanted to drop on by and make sure that I didn't forget the fans who got me to where I am today, which is the state of inebriation!

(Seriously, it was just one glass of wine at dinner, followed by a litany of expletives when I remembered I forgot to post this yesterday)

Anyway, I couldn't be here without you. Your kind words, your nice (but sometimes weird) letters, and especially your willingness to click those stars at the end of every chapter have helped me get to where I am right now. My beta readers (who are amazing) ensure that I'm always giving you quality, despite my best efforts to use the same damned words and phrases every other sentence (it's like trying to unscramble an egg sometimes). So thank you all so very much for being there for me while I tried so hard to give you my all.

Make sure you check the bio for posting dates on all my stuff, I try real hard to line it up with my drinking schedule (and fail sometimes, my bad). Now kick back, grab some of that communion wine, because it's time to start the ceremony!

We're Gathered Here Today

It took nearly two hours to convert the rest of the congregation, but felt far longer. This was mainly due to some of the parishioners milking their moment for all it was worth, unaware that they were essentially consigning their souls to oblivion, Hell, or who knew where.

As a demon, Lily was fully aware that the afterlife wasn't anything as simple as Heaven or Hell. It certainly wasn't a binary situation, nor did Purgatory count for all the souls in-between. Did true salvation exist? Supposedly. But that was true of most religions that tried to lay a path for people to follow.

So as each person gave away their free will forevermore, she wondered how many of them would find a second chance. Were they trapped in a body that didn't obey their commands? Or had they become so fully entrenched in Deacon's bullshit that they believed they were hearing the voice of God in their head?

Honestly, it didn't matter. These people had fallen for the act, hook, line, and sinker, and were now part of a gross violation of whatever pact had been established by the higher-ups. Even now, she could feel Legion's power swelling as he took control of those souls and wrapped them around his true self like a shield.

Speaking of Legion's true self, even after hours of observation, she still couldn't pick out where the bastard was hiding. Based on what she knew about the creation of Leeds, somebody here was personally hosting the demon. Legion Prime certainly hadn't been close enough for Lily to spot, but every now and then, she could sense his presence like a heavy weight in the center of her chest. The Prime was clearly here, and had made certain to squirrel himself away where Lily wouldn't spot him.

As the last parishioner gave themselves into Legion's dark embrace, Deacon visibly relaxed and sat back against the stage. His daughter brought him a bottle of water, which he cracked open and sucked down in a matter of moments. Once finished, he handed the empty bottle back and wandered over toward Lily's cage.

"What a performance, right?" He held his hand out toward the now silent congregation behind him. "It takes some time, but the results are certainly worth it."

Lily scowled at him through the bars, but said nothing. There really wasn't much to say to the man.

"Having you here helped. We usually use the girl, tell everyone she's been driven mad by the devil or whatever. It's pretty much an art form."

"You're sick," she replied. "Using a vampire child is probably the worst of it. Why not send a personal invite to Lucifer himself?"

"Oh, we are definitely not on speaking terms." This came from a young woman, one of Legion's new meat suits. "He caught wind of a previous project of mine and shut it down. I personally think he was jealous of everything I had already accomplished, to be honest."

"He always was a proud bastard," muttered a different Legion.

Deacon chuckled and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small vial full of white powder. Without wasting another second, he unscrewed the lid and snorted the vial of powder up his nose.

"Need a little bump after saving so many souls?" Lily sneered at the man. "You don't get high on the big guy anymore?"

"Just keeping my head in the game until sunrise," he replied, then stuck the vial back in his pocket. "We're expecting a very special guest tonight, and I want to make sure I'm awake for it."

Lily moved away from the bars. "Oh? Should I change into something special?"

Deacon frowned, then shook his head. "You have to understand that this man is not to be trifled with. You're a demon, I get it. You're built to seduce and antagonize. I'll warn you now that antagonizing this man won't get you the reaction you want. At best, he ignores you."

"Ooh, I'm so scared."

Timotei, who had wandered over, smacked one of the bars, causing it to hum in vibration. "You should be. This man likes to take things apart and see how they work. And you? You are a thing to him."

Lily frowned at the vampyr, who actually looked concerned. "Wait, you're serious? You all are scared of this guy?"

A nearby Legion nodded. "He's been around for centuries and we don't know much about him. I worked with him once on a project. It was one time too many."

"But on the plus side, he paid handsomely." Deacon gestured at the building around them. "When I tell people I came from nothing, it's true. But the Curator, well, he provides. This little experiment of ours was so interesting that he secured us several locations like this one, scattered across the countryside. A safe place for Legion to create his flock."

Lily looked from Deacon to Timotei, then turned to the nearest Legion. "So, what, you're afraid he's going to drop by and take away your toys?"

"I'm terrified he's gonna take away my life." Deacon pulled a rag out of his pocket and mopped gently at his forehead. "He was convinced this experiment of Legion's had merit, and his early support was paramount to our success. Money doesn't matter to this man, nor does power, it would seem. He collects people and things he finds interesting, then takes them apart to see how they tick. That's all that motivates him, satisfying his macabre personality. And when he comes here looking for his werewolf, he's going to be pissed."

"And we're blaming it on you," Legion added. "You are our sacrificial lamb."

"Oh, are you scared that I'll hurt his feelings and he'll take it out on you?"

Deacon snorted. "We're more scared that he'll take you apart and make us watch. I don't give a damn what happens to you."

"You three are the biggest pussies I've ever met." Lily crossed her arms, realization dawning. "You essentially hunkered down and built yourself a small army in case the Curator decides he wants to pick a fight."

"Correction. I built an army in case we need to get away." The closest Legion waggled his finger at Lily. "If the Curator decides he's done with us, it's every man for himself. I have plenty of bodies to slow him down, but that's it. "

"He's a busy man. If we survive tonight, it's likely he won't come after us. The Curator is wired differently." Deacon tapped his temple knowingly. "He doesn't do revenge, but he hates being inconvenienced. We have enough funding in our coffers to start anew on our own, but we'll have to do it far away from here."

"P-u-s-s-i-e-s. Pussies." Lily signed the word for pussies, in case she wasn't making her point clear. "I can't believe I'm being held captive by the equivalent of three teenagers who are afraid daddy is gonna whip out the belt when he gets home."

Timotei growled and kicked the bars. Deacon sighed and gestured for the vampyr to step away.

"I don't care what you think of us," he said. "But as I said before, the Curator values his time far more than our lives, which means it's time to go back in your box." He dismissed her with a wave, and a group of Legion slaves wandered in from backstage, each one holding a piece of the box they had transported her in.

Lily narrowed her eyes at Deacon. "I just want to remind you that my time isn't that valuable. When I get out of this, I'm coming for you."

"You'll have to go through me first." This Legion was an older woman with thick curls of white that stopped just below her ears. When the vampyr growled, she rolled her eyes. "And Timotei, too."

"Such a loyal lapdog," Lily muttered as her cell door was opened. She glared at them as they began the process once again of boxing her up. "You think you're afraid of this Curator guy? Wait until you hear about the guy I'm seeing now."

They continued to ignore her as she was pinned in place by magic and the walls were erected. She settled into the lotus position in an attempt to calm her mind and allow her to concentrate on any sounds that might permeate the box. Even Spirit Mike kept quiet as time passed, and it was another two hours before she heard the faint rustling of movement outside of her cell.

Opening her eyes to darkness, she heard some words exchanged, but couldn't even make out the gender of the speaker. After a few minutes of tense silence, the box shifted as someone started undoing the bolts on the outside.

"So what will it be?" she asked herself. "The princess or the tiger? The demon or the dead girl?"

The top flap of the box was yanked away, bathing Lily in bright light as the spell broke and she was allowed to stand. Turning around to see if it was Dana or the Curator, her mouth dropped open upon discovering that it was neither.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she whispered in horror.

Backlit by a pair of theater lights, Eulalie hefted Mace over one shoulder and narrowed her human eyes at Lily, a grim expression on her face. She held her free hand out to assist Lily's exit.

"I am here to kick ass and chew bubblegum." Her lips curled into a sadistic smile. "Do I even need to say the next part?"

Lily opened her mouth to argue, maybe even scream at the Arachne that she needed to leave right away. However, she was interrupted by the sound of metal on concrete, followed by a yell of pain.

"What was that?" she demanded.

"The cavalry." Eulalie tossed the lid to one side and extended a hand. "The bad news is that the timer has been set. Any minute now, Legion will know that we're here."

"And the good news?" Dread bloomed in Lily's stomach, because she recognized the glint in Eulalie's eyes. The Arachne hefted Mace onto her shoulder and licked her lips.

"I won't have to hunt them down."

💀💀💀

The sweltering heat of an Alabama evening had sweat pouring down Tasia's skin, making her smell like a human salt-lick. Dana fought the urge to lick the werewolf, but wasn't entirely adverse to shifting her body every now and then just to feel Tasia's breasts press against her arm. She had already consumed the remainder of Mike's spooge, aware that it wouldn't keep much longer in this heat. The sexual energy building inside of her wasn't as prevalent as before, making her wonder if the semen had already lost some of its potency.

For perhaps the millionth time, Dana hoped she could eventually find something a little more normal to eat.

"Okay, I'm going to need a break soon." Tasia tripped over a rock, nearly dropping Dana. "Being the hero is hard on my legs."

"They really are nice legs," added Dana. "Especially your thighs."

"I'm glad you're feeling better, but I'm not going to lie. The whole tampon thing you've got going on? Kind of gross."

"That's fair." Dana tugged on the string hanging out of her gut and pulled it out. The ziplock baggie in her pocket came out, and she tucked the bloodied thing away.

"Speaking of your potentially diseased blood, what about mosquitos? They're eating me alive. Could they transfer your condition to somebody else if they bit you, then bit someone else?"

"No, for two reasons." Dana held up a finger. "One. They aren't biting me. They hunt using carbon dioxide, and I don't really breathe out unless I'm talking. Also, my blood is...gross. Stagnant, really. The equivalent of sniffing sewer water and deciding to drink it anyway."

"And two?"

"I've been bitten a couple of times by bugs. They die."

Tasia set Dana down on a rotting stump and sat next to her with a groan. "I thought you said the mosquitos don't bite you."

"They haven't. But I do a lot of work with my hands. I've startled a couple of spiders that way, and they'll bite to protect their webs or whatever. It's pretty surreal to feel something bite you, then watch it tumble off and die." Dana thought back to a conversation that she had with Eulalie. The Arachne had gone through the house and gently explained to the spiders living throughout that they were to either hit the road or remain hidden away, but that biting anybody would result in immediate death. Mike had followed up with the arachnids afterward, and just the idea that the two of them had become King and Queen Spider of the Radley house was a little silly. She had once walked into the kitchen to see Mike arguing with a wolf spider that was mad about how clean the pantry was because it hadn't attracted enough bugs to eat.

Not that she could share any of this with Tasia. Once this whole thing was over, Dana hoped to introduce her to Mike and see what he thought of the werewolf. The idea of Tasia remaining on the run forever made Dana sad, but house business was definitely Mike's responsibility.

"How are they biting you?" asked Dana. "Isn't your skin extra thick or something?"

Tasia frowned. "I may have supernatural strength and endurance, but you know that I'm not bulletproof. Bugs have evolved over millions of years to eat whatever the fuck they want. I'm just a slightly chewier snack."

Dana licked her lips, her eyes on Tasia's legs. "You're a whole meal, if you know what I mean."

"Seriously? In the middle of an Alabama swamp?"

"I may be dead, but I'm not in the ground yet." Dana grunted as she forced one of her feet to wiggle. "See? I've still got game."

"Dead

and

horny. You should put that on your dating profile."

"If you swipe right, I promise I won't bite."

Tasia laughed, then covered her mouth. "Shit, this is so unprofessional of me. Your bad habits are rubbing off on me."

"I would like to attribute most of those bad habits to Lily." Dana leaned forward and started massaging her legs. During the process of stretching her back, she felt a cold sensation like an icepick drive straight down through her spine. Her other leg started tingling as the nerves finally reconnected. "Ah, there it is."

"Legs?" asked Tasia.

"Yeah. Spinal stuff is always weird. As long as you can get muscle and bones realigned, the nerves usually seek each other out. With your spinal cord, though, there's nothing really there to push it into place."

"You've been paralyzed before?"

Dana nodded. "Broke my neck after a trip through a wall. Stuff doesn't hurt, but it can be pretty disorienting."

"Have you ever lost a finger or something?"

"Chopped off my legs to fly to Hawaii in a suitcase."

Tasia's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm fucking nobody right now. Next time you see me naked, I'll show you the scars. They've thinned out, so you'll have to get close." Dana traced lines along the edge of her groin. "Lucky me."

"So it's always like this? Spring Break horny while you're on the mend?"

"Yep." Dana wiggled her toes experimentally. "It can be distracting, but it is what it is. At least I'm physically incapable of dying from embarrassment."

"Oh, that's a good one. Are the jokes a side effect of your magic smoothies, too?"

Dana opened her mouth to respond, then paused to consider. Her sense of humor had been obliterated upon dying, but what now stood in its place was very reminiscent of what came out of Mike these days. "Huh. That's a good question, actually. This whole...issue of mine has a lot of facets."

Tasia bobbed her head in agreement. "I definitely get that. Before and after the change, it was explained to me that lycanthropy was still a big mystery. For example, the kind of wolf someone might become isn't based on a specific trait, but it usually makes sense in hindsight. The wolf itself is like a deep dive through both your psyche and your DNA." She held her hands up, keeping the fingers on one straight while curving the others. When she slid them through each other, the curved fingers bent at odd angles, causing only a couple to emerge from the other side. "Where science and magic meet, there is always an element of chaos."

"Tell me about it. There's someone I...know that is fairly advanced in terms of her magical knowledge. Even she hasn't seen or heard of anyone with my unique condition." Dana had become so comfortable with Tasia that she had almost admitted that a naga lived with her. Even now, she had scooted against the log and had tilted her head to rest against Tasia's shoulder. "I do a lot of experiments of my own, actually."

"Like what?"

Dana contemplated how much to share. "Those drones were one of them. I've been using them to scout an area with an unusually disruptive magical field, which required months of learning how to shield them."

"We have an entire branch of the Order dedicated to that sort of thing." Tasia sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "Not that it matters, now that I'm on their hit list. I'm just thrilled you didn't have to dig another silver bullet out of me."

"Getting shot sucks. One of your guys got me in the brain one time."

"Really? When was this?"

"Down in the pit." Dana tapped her temple. "It missed motor function and hit the thinky part. Have you ever had a dream while you're still drunk? Was a lot like that."

"I got bitten by a Krasue once."

"What's that?" asked Dana.

"Best way to describe it is the floating head of a woman with her guts hanging free, comes out to hunt for people at night. Southeastern Asia has some of the spookier spirits in my experience. We were hunting it at night, and this thing nearly took my partner Amida's hand off and...anyway, it got a piece of me, too. We managed to track it down and take it out a couple of days later. Between the nasty infection I got and the weird fever dreams, I think I know what you're talking about."

"You hunt a lot of monsters?"

Tasia shrugged. "Not as many as you might think. That whole thing in Hawaii was supposed to be a capstone for me. Master Cyrus was doing some field training and evaluations, and Brother Amida signed on for a chance to work with the man. You would have liked him. Amida, I mean. Far more level-headed than me."

A moment of silence stretched between them, and Dana realized she should probably say something. "I wish I could have gotten to know him," was what she eventually went with.

"Yeah, he was a good guy. I was actually scared during my transformation, because some werewolves see restless spirits. I had it in my head that I might wake up and he would be hanging around to tell me what a fucking mess I've made of everything. I was already in a dark place. That probably would have sent me over the edge."