Hey all, Annabelle here with the next chapter of Home for Horny Monsters! If you haven't read it from the beginning, this isn't a good chapter to start, as a lot won't make sense. Go back and read the first parts, I'll wait!
For those of you who are ready, I love putting my stories here, everybody is so supportive!
As promised, this chapter has our newest monster, and I hope you love her! Mike is about to take a trip on the weird side, so without further ado, I present to you:
*****
Nightmares and Dreamscapes
His soul floated, hiding just beneath his skin, dreading the moment that his eyes would open, streaming reality in High Definition through his very being. It wasn't that he was afraid to face the morning, but rather that he was afraid of how much pain he would be in upon awaking.
The morning before, his whole being had been in agony. Between fucking Jenny out of Beth and then carrying Beth home, he wondered if his body would decide to be tired or sore instead. How does a body decide how miserable to make its owner anyway? Mike contemplated his day from behind closed eyes, wondering if he could trick Tink into bringing him food to eat while he stayed in bed. She couldn't cook for him, and he was fairly certain the fridge was nearly empty.
Shit. He also needed to feed the Mandragora. He could picture those vines, creeping along the side of the house, searching for fresh meat. With the events of yesterday, it had gotten forgotten, but it needed to be a priority today. How much meat did a magical plant need? He pictured Emily in his mind, tossing a couple of pounds of beef on the lawn. The plant was probably far hungrier after so many months without food. Or maybe it had taken to eating strays that happened onto the lawn?
Ugh. Eyes open, he silently cursed the light that was already crossing the hard, wooden floor of his room. Pushing the blankets away, he saw that Tink had already left. Bracing for the worst, he sat up in bed, ready for the inevitable checklist of agonies to pile up.
Except nothing happened. Puzzled, he rolled his shoulders around, tilted his head back and forth, and wiggled his legs. He felt absolutely fine.
"What the fuck?" He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Rising, he walked to the bathroom, took a leak, and popped into the bathroom. The huge tub was empty.
"Hey Naia." He sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for the faucet to turn on. Strangely, the tub remained silent. "Hello?" He called, leaning in the tub, waiting for her to appear. He sat this way for several minutes, puzzled that she didn't answer. Shaking his head, he figured he would go out to the garden and see what she was up to.
Walking down the hallway, he was surprised at how quiet the house was. At the top of the stairs, he stopped to stare at the wardrobe at the other end of the hall, its silver handle gleaming, begging to be opened.
"Feed the Mandragora, feed the Mandragora," he muttered, walking downstairs. In the kitchen, his laptop was on the table, but there was no sign of Tink. Making himself a quick breakfast of Eggos and coffee, he turned his laptop on, clicking on his web browser.
Nothing happened. Puzzled, he tried again, but the program wouldn't open. He rebooted his computer, eating his syrup soaked Eggos and slamming his coffee, refilling his mug while he waited. His computer screen came back on, but it wouldn't display anything other than a blue screen.
"What the fuck?" Either he had contracted a massive virus, or he was experiencing hardware failure. Swearing to himself, he wondered if Tink had been screwing around on his laptop this morning. "Tink? Hey Tink!" Wandering from room to room, he saw no sign of the goblin. In fact, everything was in perfect order, the mess from yesterday's fight all cleaned up as if it hadn't even happened.
"Strange." Casting a suspicious glance at the living room, Mike walked out into the garden, stopping in his tracks. Naia's fountain was caked in dirt and mud again, as if he had never cleaned it out. Running up to the edge, all he could think was that, somehow, the magic had been cut off from her spring again.
"Shit, shit, shit!" He shoved his way into the garage, maneuvering through the boxes to get to the work bench. Grabbing supplies, he ran back outside. "Tink! Abella! Help!" Kneeling in the fountain, he frantically scrubbed at the caked mud, trying to remember where he shad seen the water flowing from.
"Naia! Naia, are you in there?" Scooping up dirt, he saw the stony figure tucked away from the garden, hidden behind the bushes. "Abella! Abella, come help me!"
She didn't move. Tossing his trowel aside, Mike vaulted the lip of the fountain. "Abella, the fountain is..."
Abella was wrapped in the vines of the Mandragora, her body perfectly still. Mike grabbed the vines, tearing them off with his bare hands. "Oh shit, Abella!" It only took him a minute, the vines tearing away easily beneath his hands. Pushing against her, he pressed his face to hers, hoping that she would feel his warmth. "Abella, please, wake up!"
She remained motionless, stuck in statue form. Mike ran back into the house, shoving open the front door and colliding with someone who had been standing on the porch. Papers flew everywhere, and Mike spun wildly, tripping over himself and tipping over the railing into the bushes below.
"Ow, fuck!" Mike crawled free of the bushes to find that Beth was busy picking up the papers he had spilled everywhere. She was on her hands and knees, her white skirt hiked up over her ass, revealing a bright red pair of panties that matched her top. Mike scrambled up the stairs, grabbing a handful of her papers. "I am so sorry!"
"Don't worry about it Mr. Ra-Mike." Beth blushed at him, accepting the papers. Mike knelt to grab another one, his eyes struggling to focus on the words. They seemed to swim in front of his eyes, but Beth snatched it away from him before he could get a better look at it. Her bun had come undone, a large strand of hair hanging free down the back of her neck. "I thought I would drop by and bring you some paperwork, but I'm afraid it's gotten all out of sorts."
"Oh, yes, right, come in." Mike helped her to her feet, staring at the way her breasts strained the buttons of her blouse while she stood. Looking back at the street, he started to follow Beth inside when he saw that the porch swing was unhooked, lying on the porch. "I'll meet you in the kitchen," he told her, picking up the swing and reattaching it.
"Cecilia, where are you?" He asked, giving the swing a gentle push. He was answered only by the harsh metallic screech of metal on metal.
Beth stood in the kitchen leaning back against the table. Something about her stance immediately unnerved him-it was too familiar. Did she remember what had happened yesterday? "I didn't think you were coming back until Friday," he told her.
"I don't think we scheduled anything that far out," Beth told him. "I'm just bringing by the paperwork I mentioned yesterday, as well as an offer from the Historical Preservation Society. These very nice ladies call me on almost a daily basis to see if you will sell."
MIke stared at her. "You mean the offer I turned down earlier this week?"
"Mike, are you feeling okay?" Beth moved closer to him, lines of concern crossing her face. "You told me last night that you weren't certain if you were going to keep the place."
"Last night?" Mike felt the world spinning around him. "Like, you remember being here yesterday?"
"Of course I do. I showed you around, you really liked that big tub. I said I would check in on you." Beth put her hand against his forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever."
"Yeah, well I suddenly feel very unwell." Mike sat down at the table. He felt like he was standing at one end of a very long tunnel, his entire world spinning out of control.
"Here, let me get you some water." Beth walked into the kitchen, and he heard the faucet. He heard her swear, and the click of her heels announced her return a few moments later. "I had an accident," she informed him, gesturing at the large wet spot on her blouse. The red fabric of her blouse was suddenly transparent, revealing the dark black bra underneath. "I'm such a klutz," she informed him, pinching the top of her blouse with one hand and shaking it in and out. Two buttons came undone, revealing the upper curve of her breasts.
His cock twitched slightly, but he was too upset to care. "Thank you," he told her, taking the glass from her hands. She gave him an odd look, then grabbed the papers on the table.
"So, I guess I'll go back to the office then," she told him. "Do you need me to take you to the doctor or anything? I can bring you something later, or we could meet for dinner?"
"No, I'm fine." The words were easy to say, but Mike was everything but. Beth frowned at him while he walked her to the door. When he opened it, she spun in place, leaning against the frame, her body suddenly close.
"Seriously. Can I do anything for you?" She winked at him.
"I'm good." He needed to figure out what had gone wrong. Beth pouted, stepping onto the porch. Mike didn't bother following her-he shut the door in her face.
-
The hours ticked by. Mike spent the first hour in the back trying to get Abella to snap out of her slumber, and decided that whatever had happened wasn't going to suddenly undo itself. In the garage, Tink's nest underneath was empty, just a couple of boxes of newspaper that had become so wet, Mike couldn't read what was written on them. Going back in the house, he tried to find the secret cave in the little boy's room, but was unable to figure out how to open it. A hammer to the drywall revealed nothing behind it but insulation and dead bugs.
Mike masturbated twice in the tub, unable to cum or summon Naia. He tried it in the fountain, frantically jerking himself as he wandered in large circles, calling the nymph's name. He even checked the greenhouse, but the door itself was locked, and he couldn't find a rock heavy enough to shatter out the glass. It seemed like every time he found one that would work, it was suddenly too small.
Unable to find Naia anywhere, Mike went into the basement, finding the piece of chalk underneath the freezer.
"Aha!" Pumping his hand in victory, he drew the door on the wall, knocking three times, then twice more. When nothing happened, he did it again. Convinced that he had screwed up the door, he redrew it over and over again, his knuckles becoming raw from the now frantic pounding on each one. The piece of chalk quickly became a tiny nub which he slammed against the floor, breaking it into several pieces.
"What the fuck?!?" Mike slammed into the freezer, tilting the whole thing over in anger. He gave it a kick, sending a jolt of pain through his foot. "Ow, fuck!" Limping back up the stairs, he heard the doorbell ring.
Stumbling through the darkened home, he flipped on the lights as he neared the front door. Opening it, he saw that Dana stood there in just a white tank top and jeans.
"Oh. I didn't order anything," he said, closing the door.
