Hi, all!
It's me again, Annabelle Hawthorne, with yet another ridiculous installment of "Let's watch disaster lesbians fight the forces of darkness!" Naturally, this title was too long for this website, so I shortened it to Dead and Horny.
This is officially book 3 of Dead and Horny and takes place during the events of Book 8 of Horny Monsters, and BOTH of these series take place in the chronological time gap between the release of A Dance with Dragons and The Winds of Winter. (Technically, that's everything I've written, actually, but George makes way more money than I ever will, so what do I know?)
Anyway, I want to take a quick moment and thank everyone who continues to follow my work. This year was harder than others. I got sick for a long time, had some pretty big IRL stuff come up, and it just wiped me out creatively. Some months ago, I realized that I hadn't written anything with Lily in it since I created her back in 2017. That is how I learned that Lily is officially my emotional support character.
So for those who love my succubus, your girl is back, and I'm gonna dial it up right out of the gate. For those who are curious about my release dates, make sure to check my bio, I've been really good about making sure to keep to it. A special thanks to my beta team, including Literotica's own TJ Skywind.
Just a reminder that this little slice of monsters and mayhem is coming to you absolutely free! You just have to pay
Shipping and Handling
The building was nondescript from the outside, as plain as any other warehouse in the area. The windows had been blacked out with bars across them, which wasn't an uncommon practice these days. There had been several break-ins over the last six months, most of them some sort of smash-and-grab.
Arnaud knew differently, though. To any passing observer, he was on a smoke break. In truth, he was watching the gated entrance of the facility and keeping an eye out for trouble. The smash and grabs had been perpetuated by his own team in order to buy or rent out as many of the buildings as possible. These were largely left empty, for the people he worked for didn't traffic in material goods or possessions. Their tastes were far more refined and best handled away from prying eyes.
"Southeast, checking in." The voice in Arnaud's earpiece was soft, as if the words had been little more than a whisper. He waited as each man on patrol reported in, then flicked the ash from his cigarette when it came to his turn.
"Front gate is all clear," he replied in French. "We're still a go for delivery."
"Roger."
Roughly five minutes later, a box truck crested the hill that overlooked the secure warehouse district. Navigating the winding descent, it stopped at the bottom to check in at the front security gate. If anything felt remotely off, or if strangers were spotted roaming the area, the deal would be delayed or called off entirely and the truck would turn around. The man working the gate was one of their own, and would leave this delivery off the manifest. Camera footage would be scrubbed later, so if any sort of security audit was brought up, this delivery never happened.
Arnaud blew a thick cloud of smoke, then snorted and spat on the ground. The gate opened, allowing the truck to enter, and Arnaud headed into the warehouse to wait for the delivery.
Large bay doors opened to allow the truck inside. There were five men waiting inside, all of them former military. Arnaud had discovered long ago that the biggest source of hired help were those who had been forgotten by their own countries after the atrocities of war.
Well, that was only half true. Some of the men he hired were disciplined former soldiers who simply liked money and had no scruples. There were plenty of mercenary groups that functioned off this ideal alone. In fact, two of his most recent hires were from the recently disbanded Sons of Sin. Honestly, the name was silly, but both James and Alberto were top notch military operators. When a detective had started snooping around the warehouses, the ex-SoS had gone to his house and murdered his entire family. Sometimes, it wasn't enough to warn people off. You had to make a point.
There was a brief burst of static over the comms. Arnaud frowned and put a finger in his ear to hear better. "Are we clear?" he asked.
"Southeast. All clear." Each man checked in without fail. Arnaud shrugged, assuming the static was just some type of interference. It didn't happen often, but radio equipment could be quite finicky.
The truck pulled to a stop and the bay doors were closed. A man holding a manifest got out of the cab and walked up to Arnaud. He handed the manifest over.
"Full load today," he said. On the manifest, it looked like he was shipping pet food, and the truck was packed with it. In reality, they just shipped the animal food back and forth until it went bad. The pet food was meant to mess with cadaver dogs, but they almost never got questioned by customs. Nobody in the European Union looked twice at a dog food company.
"Thanks." Arnaud handed the man a stack of cash. "See you in two weeks."
The driver gave a mock salute and walked out of the warehouse where his car was waiting. Though the extra help pulling all the food out would be nice, it was the driver's job to call back if he saw anyone coming down the long country road that led to the warehouse district.
The mercenaries shouldered their weapons and opened the truck. They tossed the bags of food down to each other, doing their best not to let them rip. A genuine shipping company would use pallets and a forklift, but the cover story was always that the forklift had broken. That way, if someone wanted a peek inside the truck, they had to reconcile the idea of lifting everything out themselves to do a proper check.
About six feet into the back of the bed, they reached the latch that opened the false bottom. The mercenaries spread out and pulled their stun guns. Arnaud's second, a man named Emilio, twisted the ring holding the latch shut and yanked it open.
"You can crawl out or we can pull you out," said Emilio. "You won't like it if we pull you out."
"Please," said a voice from inside the trailer. "We're all scared and hungry."
"We've got plenty of food for anyone who comes out on their own," said Arnaud. There was a long silence, followed by the sound of shuffling beneath the bed of the truck. A tiny figure stood, her features hidden by long, black hair. Emilio pulled the little girl from the hole and Arnaud moved forward to help her down. He gave her his best smile and put his hands under her armpit to lift her down.
"That's a good girl," he said. "What's your name?"
The child, who was probably eight years old, sniffled. "It's Lily," she said, then looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you guys going to hurt us? My babysitter said you were going to cut us up and feed us to some pedophiles!"
Emilio actually chuckled. Arnaud gave the man a dirty look, then turned his attention back to Lily.
"Now, now, of course we wouldn't let that happen." The truth of the matter was that he wasn't entirely sure what his clientele were going to do with the girl. All he knew was that little kids were a massive payday, and if some rich asshole in London wanted to hack up kids to eat their organs, it meant Arnaud would stay in business.
"Do you promise?"
"Cross my heart." Arnaud ruffled the girl's hair. "I like your dress."
"Hey." Emilio stomped on the hole. "Get out!"
A pale blonde crawled out of the hole and went limp on the bed of the truck. Arnaud rolled his eyes in disgust. Most likely, the guys at the dock had helped themselves to the merchandise and worn her out. It wasn't the first time, but if he had to shoot this one, he was going to kill one of the dock workers to make an example out of them.
"You. Go." Emilio kicked the blonde. She moaned and crawled forward, then huddled up in the corner of the truck. They could force her the rest of the way out, but if she stayed out of the way, it wouldn't matter. One of the mercenaries slapped cuffs on her.
"This one doesn't look so hot," he said, grabbing her by the chin to look at her face. The blonde's eyes were a pale gray that was almost startling to look at.
"We'll feed her something before sending her on her way." A couple of days worth of good food would increase the price by five figures alone. Arnaud never understood why so many traffickers got lazy about that kind of thing. The people who bought slaves paid a premium for the pleasure of breaking them, after all. "Get the next one out."
Emilio held his stun gun close to his chest and hopped into the hole. "C'mon, everyone, let's go."
"Oh!" Lily tugged at Arnaud's hand. "I forgot my dolly in there!"
He chuckled and ruffled her hair again. "You remind me of my own daughter," he said. "Of course we'll get your doll for you."
"Thank you!" Lily hugged him so tightly that she accidentally pinched his leg through the fabric. "I wanted to bring her out with me, but she sent me out first to make sure that nobody ran away."
"Yeah, kid, whatever." Arnaud twisted a lock of Lily's hair around his fingers. If he got some pictures of her in pigtails, he could probably raise her price by ten percent.
"What the--" Emilio shouted from inside the truck, then fired an actual gun. The other mercenaries switched to live ammo and pointed various guns at the back of the truck. The blonde screamed and threw herself out of the vehicle, hitting the ground and rolling away. Emilio discharged two more rounds, then cried out in panic.
"What the hell?" Arnaud grabbed Lily by the top of the hair and backed away from the truck. He didn't want her running off. Usually the girls in the truck were drugged, but sometimes adrenaline kicked in and one or two snapped out early. It was a hard balance sedating shipments. On more than one occasion, Arnaud had lost thousands of dollars because someone died in transit.
The temperature in the warehouse dropped as if the AC had kicked into overdrive. From inside the truck, somebody giggled. James, who stood nearby with his pistol drawn, went completely white and sprinted away from the truck in terror.
"Where the fuck are you going?" shouted Arnaud. When he turned back toward the truck, he was surprised to see that Alberto was also running in the opposite direction. "Hey. HEY!"
"Peekaboo!" A ghastly child-like voice came from the back of the truck. A doll levitated up from the secret compartment, its face and dress covered in blood. In each hand was a human eye, which it held up in front of its face like a pair of binoculars. "I see you!"
Arnaud made it four steps before tripping on Lily and falling onto the concrete. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to get back onto his feet, but could barely keep his eyes open through the muted sound of gunfire.
"C'mon, mister!" Lily stood by the bay doors, waving him on. "If you hurry up, she won't eat your face!"
"I don' wan' mah face eaten." Arnaud's mouth felt like it was full of cotton. The ground was somehow slippery enough that he couldn't quite get on his feet, yet he didn't dare turn back. The feeling of impending dread told him that he needed to run as fast as he could, no matter what.
