Home For Horny Monsters Ch 120

Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne here with another chapter of "How many more sexy books can I write before Winds of Winter actually releases?"

The current number is eighteen.

New reader? Welcome! Mike Radley inherited a magical house and jerked off in his bathtub. Now he's trapped in a book during his hunt for answers to a geriatric goblin pregnancy.

Returning reader? Welcome back! This summer has been busier than a bag full of bees, so thanks for sticking around during this slower release schedule! I'm struggling with real life/writer life balance, but time with my family always come first. I've also done a bunch of traveling, which hasn't been super conducive to the creative process. I did get a sunburn though! (Fucking expired sunblock)

Anyway, thanks to all of you who still remember to comment and/or leave stars. You continue to support me in the easiest ways possible, and thanks again for all the feedback letters. I don't always respond, but that's largely a function of how busy I currently am vs how many emails I get. But I do (eventually) read them all, so keep them coming!

I wish I could say that I was blowing my free time watching tv shows, movies, or even playing video games. All of my free time goes to keeping up with Mike and the Radley family. Honestly, the last time I was able to blow off all my responsibilities like this was around the time I played a little something called

Twilight Princess

Mike followed Sofia for nearly half a mile down the phantom streets, his eyes constantly searching the dark corners for any sign of real movement. The shadows that meandered along the buildings were slowly coming into focus and now had dim facial features. Shades of gray had appeared to give further definition to the clothes that the phantoms wore.

"Troubling," Sofia said, pausing to inspect a young child on the sidewalk. The boy was holding up what could have been a newspaper and shouting silently. "The longer we remain, the more details they have."

"Which means our new friend is pulling energy from somewhere." Mike inspected himself and then Sofia. The natural magic that surrounded them both was intact. "It's not coming from us," he said. "So I guess that's a positive."

"I think that this is a manipulation of the ambient energy of all the books in the room. There is plenty of energy there if you know how to utilize it." Sofia waved her hand through the child's head. "Hmm. Slight resistance. My skin now feels tacky. If we wait long enough, these...beings may gain physical forms. What troubles me the most is the state of our actual bodies. Is this a psychic manifestation? Or perhaps a manipulation of the Dreamscape?"

"It's not the Dreamscape." Mike concentrated his will and tried to bend reality. It didn't budge. "And it's not any sort of astral plane, either."

"How can you be sure?"

"The Dreamscape and the astral are related. My mastery of one would translate into at least a minimal ability to manipulate the other." He held out a hand and summoned a spider made of lightning, which he set on the ground. It ran away from them, perpendicular to the direction they traveled.

"You really have mastery of the Dreamscape?" Sofia studied him. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Well, when you have a succubus as your teacher, you get the accelerated course." Mike didn't feel the need to explain that a piece of Lily was always waiting for him there, able to assist his efforts. He also wasn't going to mention the fact that she often dressed as a hot teacher when she did.

"I see." Sofia studied the sky. "I suppose a pocket dimension is our most likely culprit. The entity in that journal has woven together this place from the memories of the books at hand. If I had my staff, this would be an easy fix."

"But you don't. How did that happen, anyway?"

Sofia shrugged. "When the darkness came, I thought I had grabbed it. It was yet another deception. So what is the purpose of trapping us here, keeping in mind that this was Plan B?"

"Plan B?"

She nodded. "The book wished to remain unnoticed and escape confinement. When that failed, it did this to trap us here. We must assume that escape is the primary agenda."

"You said the book was a journal, right?" Mike scratched his chin and watched what could have been a dog sprint across the road. "Whose journal was it?"

"An aristocrat from the late 1800s," she replied. "A man named Allen Moore who lived in Mayfair."

"So Mr. Moore is our entity?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. The journal itself is unnatural and bound in human remains. So we could be facing Moore, or a protective spirit attached to the book. There was no indication it would be so strong, so I wasn't worried about it."

"I see." They continued walking as the facade came into focus around them. Eventually, the road terminated abruptly; the city transitioned to a small village in the forest. Mike stood on the conversion line and noticed that both buildings and trees had been bifurcated sharply, as if two separate scenes had been jammed together.

"We're in a different book," said Sofia. "There were hundreds of them in that room."

"Which means we could be here a really long time," Mike replied. He noticed that the trees had far more definition than the buildings had, and the villagers walking through the square appeared as if they had been ripped directly from an old silent film. "I wonder if we need to get to Moore's journal before we can interact with the entity."

"That would make sense." Sofia crossed her arms and squinted at a nearby shadow. It was walking toward them and carrying a basket. She drew her sword from her belt and unfolded it. "Unless the creature is hunting us."

"Yeah, I absolutely hate thinking that might be the case." Mike and Sofia stepped aside as the shadow passed between them. When it reached the edge of the scene, the figure vanished instead of continuing onto the cobblestone road of the city. "But I'm not too worried about it."

"You should be." Sofia rolled her eye. "We're dealing with a malevolent entity capable of putting together pocket realities to terrorize us."

"We have one of those at home," Mike replied. "We call her Jenny."

Sofia snorted.

"Also," Mike added. "If we are dealing with a spirit, I have my ways of handling it."

"And if it's a demon?"

Mike shrugged. "I've got one of those at home, too."

"You can't fuck all your problems away, Caretaker." Sofia walked toward the middle of the village with her sword held at the ready.

"Hey, it's gotten me this far in life." Mike did his best to radiate confidence. If they were dealing with a demon, the best way to lure them out was to present himself as an overconfident target. Now if the entity was a malevolent spirit, he could probably handle it himself without any issue. Even if it was more powerful than he was, Cecilia had his back. He wasn't sure if their enemy was even aware of the banshee's presence, but he intended to keep that a secret for now.

They walked through the village and beyond it. The scenery broke again and they were now in a port town, with a massive cargo ship being loaded with boxes. The gray-toned figures moving around ignored both of them, but when one walked through Mike, it felt like he was punched in the gut.

"Oof." He moved off the path and hunched over, rubbing his stomach. "I don't like that at all."

Sofia swung her sword through one of the shadows. It split apart where the blade cut, and the figure continued walking with its upper torso trailing a few inches behind. "What do you make of that?" she asked, then gave her sword a disgusted flick. Black ink spattered on the ground before turning into a mist that chased after the worker.

"Limitation of the reality we're in," Mike said. He watched as the torso reattached itself and the dockworker continued doing his job. "These look like recordings, so I'm guessing we're looking at scenes from the books in the Restricted Section. We're clearly not meant to interrupt them." He was about to say something else when his magic twinged. Somewhere far away, his lightning spider had been destroyed. It could only mean one thing.

The entity had found it. He summoned three more of the spiders into his hand and sent them back in the general direction from which they had come. If the entity hunted them all, it meant that it had a way to track them via magic. Otherwise, it had just gotten lucky. Either way, it wasn't nearby, and didn't seem to have a way to just appear where they were.

"What was that about?" asked Sofia as she took a step toward Mike. A massive cloud of fog rolled between them, obscuring the cyclops from view. Almost right away, Mike felt the distance between him and the spiders he had just summoned shift dramatically. They were no longer nearby.

"Sofia!" He walked forward through the fog, his hands held out to keep him from walking into something. After several moments, the fog thinned out, revealing that he was no longer in the port town. He now stood in what looked like a monastery, lit from above with torches.

"Shit," he muttered. "Cecilia, are you still with me?"

"I am," she whispered in his ear. "I've been hiding inside of your body this entire time."

"Kinky," Mike replied. Apparently the entity controlling this place had a way to shuffle things up. Did it literally shuffle up the pile of books back in the real world? Or was this some sort of massive, psychic effort? What kind of spirit were they dealing with?

The answers wouldn't come from standing around. He turned toward the entrance of the monastery and walked toward it. The large door creaked when he pushed it open, revealing a vineyard cloaked in fog. Wandering through the vines was a group of monks, all of them working silently as they checked on their grapes. "Any ideas where Sofia might be?"

He felt a chill crawl up his spine as the banshee floated backward out of his body. A few moments later, Cecilia's teeth nibbled playfully at his right ear. He turned his head in that direction until she stopped.

"That way," she said breathily. "Her soul is a distant spark."

"Well, then it's a good thing I wore my running shoes." He jogged down the hill toward the vineyard and beyond. With any luck, he would reach Sofia before the entity did.

In the back of his mind, he felt the connection with one of his lightning spiders break.

🏡🏡🏡

"Caretaker?" Sofia stepped forward through the fog, the sword clutched tightly in her hand. She turned in place, hoping to see a structure or maybe even some shadow people. Her gut churned as if seasick. "Mike?"

The thick fog lifted. She was in the rolling hills of a countryside, surrounded by tall mountain peaks. Toward the bottom of the hill was a small cottage with smoke coming out of its chimney. A river turned a small water wheel attached to the building.

"Fucking gods damn it all," she muttered. Sofia had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but figured it was a good idea to check the structure first to make sure Mike wasn't there.

It took about ten minutes to walk down the hill. Outside of the cottage, a pair of horses munched grain from a trough near the barn. A solitary shadow goat hopped around outside. Sofia glared at it, but it didn't react to her presence.

"Mike?" She knocked on the door of the cottage, then pushed it open. Crouching to fit through its frame, she stepped into the building. There was food cooking on the stove, but it didn't have a smell. A man with a long beard sat at the table, an array of leaves spread out before him. He was busy drawing one of the leaves in a journal, most likely the one that had gotten pulled off the shelf.

Sofia stabbed the man through the shoulder, but he didn't react. Sighing, she yanked the blade free flicked it, which created a makeshift Rorschach test on the ground. This guy clearly wasn't the entity, so she wasn't in immediate danger.

Still, she was separated from Mike, and couldn't help but feel guilty that they were even in this predicament. She was the Head Librarian, and should have been more careful. It wasn't like this was her first time dealing with a possessed book.

Sighing, she closed her eye and took several deep breaths. She couldn't help but be reminded of Agatha, one of her predecessors and mentor.

When Sofia had fled into the Library for safety, she became part of a group of survivors who had struggled to reestablish the sacred order of librarians. Agatha had been the Head Librarian then, an old woman with silver hair that was always pulled back into a bun. She was the last true Head Librarian, properly educated by those who came before her.

Agatha had been a capable leader. It was through her wisdom that the survivors were able to prosper. She had organized outings to allow Sofia and a couple of others to age into adulthood, all while maintaining the functions of the Library itself. Still, despite attempted intrusions by several different organizations, it was a threat from within that had finally claimed Agatha's life.

Sofia tried to shut out the memory of watching the life leech from Agatha's body by a book that had slammed itself shut on her fingers. They had been moving brand new dangerous texts into one of the Restricted Sections when the attack occurred. The Head Librarian's final act was to use the power of her staff to seal away the book's magic, turning both her and the book to stone. To this day, Agatha still stood in one of the restricted rooms, her face twisted up in agony. On that day, Calliope had become the new Head Librarian, but she would only last a decade in the role.

Yelling, Sofia grabbed the table and flipped it, causing the leaves to scatter across the room. They moved as if in slow motion, then reversed course as the overturned table shifted back into position. The man at the table didn't react, but Sofia hadn't expected him to. After all, he was just an echo.

She kicked the front door of the cottage, ripping it free of its hinges. Before the door could repair itself, Sofia was back outside. She booted the goat, causing the phantom to soar over the barn. As she stomped away from the cottage, she watched the animal tumble back through the air in an attempt to return to its position.

Before it could land, Sofia booted it again. The goat sailed through the air, distorting wildly as it disappeared from sight. She followed the river, knowing that it was a surefire way to avoid going in circles.

Even though her mood was grim, the walk through the woods was oddly soothing. It lacked the sounds and smells of an actual forest, but the gray-scale aesthetic provided plenty of novelty. When was the last time she had casually gone on a hike?

An hour passed in this manner. The river suddenly changed into wood flooring and the forest became a room. Sofia crouched, her body hunched forward as she pushed open the door. The next room was an old kitchen, and a pair of young men were busy peeling potatoes in the corner. Outside the kitchen, a narrow hallway opened up into the interior of a steepled church. A scattering of worshippers were in the pews, their heads bowed in reverence as a priest spoke silently at the lectern.

Taking a deep breath, Sofia found a spot to sit off to the side of the pew. Her feet were a little sore. While her boots were usually comfortable, she wasn't used to long walks on uneven terrain. She watched the priest, fascinated by the amount of detail she could now make out on his face.

After sitting through the silent sermon, Sofia stepped out the front door of the church. If she had to guess, she was somewhere in Italy. She stuck to the path this time and the scene ended abruptly. She was on a boat in the ocean. Unwilling to swim through the water below it, she turned around and walked along the edge of the scene until she was able to go around it.

Her stomach rumbled. It had been awhile since breakfast. At least she was sober now, and hangover free. If she had been trying to navigate this place in such a state, it wouldn't have ended well. If she vomited here, would it inevitably end up in a book?

Roughly four scenes later, she found herself in familiar territory. Even though it had been centuries since she had seen it, the streets of Florence, Italy were always memorable. The scene included the Arno river, which Sofia stopped to visit.

From where she stood on the shore, she could see dozens of fish just beneath the surface of the water. She crouched down and hugged her knees, watching the fish glide beneath the surface of the water. After a minute of this, she found a small tree to recline against and let out a sigh.

"What to do, what to do." She picked up a nearby rock and skipped it across the water. The stone sent ripples out in every direction, then reversed course shortly before completing its journey and sinking beneath the surface. As the stone shot back toward its origin, Sofia noticed that the water's hue had shifted from gray to green in places. She stood and watched in amazement as the sky above turned blue, and the air filled with the sound of rushing water. The city of Florence was no longer bathed in shades of gray, its full palette now finally revealed.

The cyclops laughed at the burst of color and pulled off her boots. She waded out into the river, watching with intense interest as the water piled up against her shins in an effort to maintain its flow. After stomping her feet experimentally, she tried to snatch a fish from beneath the water. It squirted free of her hands and moved to resume its original pattern.

A few minutes later, Sofia waded back onto the shore and leaned against the small tree once more. Though she had just been in the water, her feet weren't actually wet. She slid on her boots and let out a loud sigh. The cyclops was no closer to escaping this place, but her mood had lightened considerably. Seeing Florence as it was perhaps three hundred years ago was a treat in itself, and the river was soothing.

Maybe it would be best if she waited for Mike here. She watched the river flow, her thoughts turning inward once more.

"This way." Lukios gestured for her to follow, the satyr's hooves clacking on the cold marble tile. Sofia followed, her arms piled high with scrolls. They entered the Head Librarian's study. Agatha stood over a wooden table, her fingers splayed out as she studied the manuscript in front of her. The old woman glanced up at them as they entered.

"Put them over there," she said to Sofia, then shifted her eyes to an empty wooden crate in the corner. The young cyclops obeyed, kneeling down and carefully stacking the wrapped scrolls in the box. She tried to ignore the soft sound of Lukios and Agatha exchanging a kiss. It was an open secret that the satyr and the Head Librarian were a couple, but the two of them attempted to keep things proper while in the company of the other Librarians.

Lukios and Agatha exchanged words in a forgotten language, and then the satyr left. Sofia stood at attention, curious why she had been called in to speak with the woman.

"Has Lukios explained anything to you?" Agatha picked up a silver cup and sipped from it. The elderberry wine briefly stained her lips the color of crimson.

"No, ma'am."

Agatha nodded her approval, then turned her attention to the book on her table. "We've lost two more portals this week," she said. "Due to the witchcraft trials in England."

Sofia said nothing. She had learned long ago that Agatha preferred silence as proof of contemplation, though she wasn't able to divine the parallel that Agatha wanted.

"Chronologically, you are an adult now, Sofia. In your late twenties, if my guess is correct." Agatha smiled. "You've been with us for some time, now."

"Most of my life," Sofia replied. Ever since she was a child, actually, but that had been stretched artificially into hundreds of years. "My natural one, that is."