Hi all!
Welcome to the next chapter of Home for Horny Monsters! I'm your host, Annabelle Hawthorne, and I'll be your tour guide for today.
New to the story? In short, a man name Mike inherits a house, meets some sexy monsters that he occasionally has sex with, and almost 600 thousand words worth of plot, shenanigans and silliness later, his house is under attack by a mysterious shadow man while he is stuck having a (metaphorical) pissing contest with the queen of the fae who has kidnapped the resident banshee.
Returning reader? I missed you, welcome back! Hey, shit is about to get wild, and I'm so glad to be on the ride with you.
Thanks to everyone in the Lit community who has encouraged me to keep doing this. Not only has it been a lot of fun, but this story and its adventures has been one of the few things this year that has reliably brought me joy. Times are tough, and I'm hoping that you are all getting by and that sunnier days are ahead (well, not in the Northern Hemisphere, it's already getting cold as fuck where I am).
Anyway, it's time to get on with the show!
Day of the Dead
Dana was upstairs when she heard the front door explode. Quetzalli emerged from her bedroom with a concerned look on her face, and the two of them rushed to the top of the stairs to look below.
There was a flash of light, followed by a scream from Beth. Quetzalli was already heading for the stairs when a man in a hoodie pointed his wand up at her and hissed something under his breath. Dana shoved Quetzalli out of the way in time to catch the brunt of the magic, and the shockwave carried both of them into the wall, showering them with the shattered balusters of the railing.
"Urgh," Dana moaned as she got to her feet. When she took a breath, she could tell that something had punctured a lung, so she looked over her shoulder to see a large wooden splinter sticking out of her back. She pulled it free and then yanked a few extra pieces out of her thigh and arm.
"Hey, you okay?" She shook Quetzalli by the shoulder, but the dragon was motionless. "I need some help," she called to the rats down the corridor, which shook them out of their stupor, and they came running. Together, they dragged Quetzalli into Mike's bedroom.
"Naia," she called, and was most of the way into the bathroom when the nymph appeared with a terrified look on her face. "I need your help!"
"We're under attack," Naia told her, then saw that Dana was dragging Quetzalli and helped pull her into the mostly empty tub. "My fountain has been frozen by angry spirits, and some man is running around with a wand."
Out back, Cerberus roared, and then the whole house shook. Down below, furniture sounded like it was being tossed around, and then the Jabberwock let out a shriek.
"Sounds like the end of the world," Dana muttered. "Guess I'd better go do my part."
"Dana, be careful," Naia warned her.
"Yes, Mother," she replied sarcastically. She walked into Mike's room and frowned. There wasn't anything she could use as a weapon in here, and the rats that had followed her were watching her as if waiting for instructions. She held a finger to her lips and cracked the door open. She used the selfie cam on her cellphone as a makeshift periscope, grateful that it was still functional, though the screen was cracked.
Out in the hall, a group of shadows were dragging their hands along the walls, shredding the wallpaper and gouging the plaster. The man in the hoodie made it to the top of the stairs and turned away from Dana, striding down the hall with purpose. When he made it to the mysterious door, he went to work right away spinning the gears, and then pulled the lever to the door. The door let out a hiss, and instead of swinging open, sections of it rolled out of the way, revealing that it was a series of moving circles that overlapped.
Dana moved down the hall, staying low and in the middle. The shadows spun to face her, their distorted features flickering in and out of existence.
She held up her fists, not sure what she was going to do with them, when she heard someone laughing downstairs, followed by the flickering of lights. The power went out briefly, and when it came back on, the spirits were grouped at the top of the stairs, as if curious what was happening down below.
"Come play with me!" It was the voice of a child's toy, and then Jenny was there. She tore through the spirits like they were paper, her fingers ripping ghastly holes in their bodies. The spirits fled, vanishing through the walls and floorboards. Jenny's wild eyes briefly met Dana's, and then she stuck out her tongue and dove into the floor like it was a swimming pool. The rats, having enough of this nonsense, scattered.
Dana smirked, then moved down the hall until she was at the door. She picked up Tick Tock and held the mimic to her chest.
"Quetzalli is in Mike's room. She needs protection," she said, and the mimic sprouted legs and raced down the hall.
She moved toward the door, curious at how its mechanisms worked, but froze in amazement at the interior.
The room itself was a giant conservatory made of several round windows, each one looking at a different patch of starry sky. Up above hung the remnants of an ancient telescope that looked as if it was in the middle of being repaired. All around the room were shattered mechanical parts, as if something complex had exploded and never been cleaned up. In the middle of the room was a small table, and the dark figure pored over a set of volumes that sat in the middle of the table before choosing one and picking it up.
"The
Grimoire
! You lose, Emily." The man let out a laugh and then hugged the book to his chest. "All you bought was time, and it still cost you your life." When he turned around, he went still when he saw Dana.
Dana noticed two things. The first was that his eyes were black, like Sulyvahn's. The other was that the tome he held was very large, intricately bound in thick leather. Embossed in the middle of the cover was a very large apple.
"Goodbye, dead girl." He pointed his wand at her and she dove out of the way. The ensuing blast ripped apart the floor between them, and she scrambled for cover behind a cog the size of her body. Wave after wave of force struck the cog, causing it to resonate and shift as she circled around it, using it as a shield. He finally walked out the door, the book held tightly against his side.
She had no idea what was actually inside the book, but she did know one thing: she had been killed for it. The
Grimoire
had been one of the possible treasures Daryl had sent her to find, and there was no way she was going to let this asshole leave the house with it.
When she looked down the hallway, she saw that he had gone into Beth's bedroom. Outside the house, there was a loud shriek and something smashed into the roof, showering her with dust. At Beth's room, she opened the door to see that the closet door was open, revealing the mouth of the magical cave.