Drummer Boy Jason Goes To Hell Ch 03

Jason stared at Granny, dumbstruck. At the culmination of their battle, Pearl had hurled her at the ground with the force of a falling meteor. She had been broken and unconscious after her defeat at Pearl's hands.

Yet there Granny sat, awake, whole, and very,

very

aware. And although she projected calm, Jason knew by now to be wary of her kind.

"Right," Jason began, "I'll go first. How about you tell me exactly what the

hell

is going on out there?"

"War," Granny said indifferently. She attempted to continue, but her voice came out in a rasp. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "War between the Wings and the Spines," she said.

"So...you guys are the Wings," Jason said. "And I take it the demons with horns are the Spines."

Granny nodded.

"And you're fighting each other because...?" Jason prompted.

Granny shrugged, at least as best she could shrug, restrained as she was by the "Naughty Chair", as Pearl had called it. "Like all wars, the reasons are complicated," she said. "But we have ever been at war."

Jason hadn't noticed before, but Granny's voice was quite pleasant. Rich, and deep, for a woman. She seemed to linger over her words, as if she enjoyed the flavor of them as she spoke. Her voice made him think of melted sugar: warm and syrupy, delicious to his ears. In other circumstances, ones where his life was not in immediate danger, Jason might have found himself turned on by its sultry quality.

"And this room," Jason said, glancing up at the chains that hung from the ceiling. "What kind of 'Eyes Wide Shut' joint are you running here?"

"This is our...I suppose you would call it our barracks," Granny said. "Where we sleep when we aren't attending to our duties. Due to our physiology, you see, we find it more comfortable to hang upside down, rather than laying on our backs. As you can imagine, this is a feature unique to our kind, as neither the Spines nor the Tails share the same concern."

That part made sense to Jason, as much as any of this did. "Why would Pearl bring me here?" he mused to himself.

Granny took this as a cue to answer. "Because, as we are currently engaged in battle, she knew it would be empty," she said. "In fact, it was because I noticed that her post on the south wall was unmanned that I came to check on her. Purleen is often...erratic. I had expected to find that she had overslept, or was perhaps toiling away on in the lab on some non-essential project. I could not, however, have imagined the disgusting display I would discover upon finding her." She scowled.

"Yeah, you demons are all tact," Jason said. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," Granny said. "Your presence here is only important insofar as - "

A coughing fit seized Granny, causing her to convulse and wheeze for several seconds, until she regained control of herself.

"Water," she croaked. "Please."

Cough cough

.

Jason eyed Granny carefully. He had no great desire to help her. This was, after all, the demon lady who had, within minutes of seeing him, tried to pop his head off like a Pez dispenser.

But...Jason had questions, and Granny seemed to have answers. Answers that he needed quickly. Who knew when Pearl would come galumphing back? It was possible that Granny might know something that could help him get out of this jam.

There had to be a trick here, though, some game Granny was playing. Jason was sure of it. Pearl was no dummy, and Jason had every reason to be even more suspicious of Granny.

Yet Granny didn't seem to be going anywhere. Whatever magic whammy Pearl had put on her must be pretty boss to keep her in check. What harm could a drink of water do?

Jason decided to give it a shot. "Where can I get water?" he said.

Granny wheezed. "Cistern," she said. "Behind you. To your..."

cough-cough

"... right."

Jason looked to his right, and saw that there was an open cylindrical container, built into the stone of the wall, about the size and shape of a big garbage can. On the lip of the cistern were several stone bowls of the type that Pearl had used to feed him the elixir. That tasty, tasty elixir. He could go for some more of that stuff...

Focus, Jason.

He walked over to the cistern. Looking into it, he found that it contained water. Or something that looked like water. Taking anything for granted in this world was a mistake.

Granny coughed again. Jason turned to look at her. That had seemed less like an accidental body function and more like a prompt, and that annoyed him.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Jason said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Jason picked up one of the bowls and dipped it into the water. He held the now half-full bowl at eye-level and inspected it. Seemed normal enough, he thought, and with that thought came the realization that Jason himself was pretty thirsty too.

Still

, Jason thought,

better let Granny have the first sip. Just in case.

Jason carried the bowl to Granny in the Naughty Chair, wary in his approach, but trying not to show it. He still half-expected her to try something, but didn't want to look like a chickenshit, no matter how he actually felt.

Standing before the seated Granny, Jason hesitated. She suppressed another cough, silently imploring him with her eyes to quench her thirst.

With her wrists bound, Granny obviously couldn't take the bowl herself, so Jason moved to her side, and tipped the bowl to her mouth.

Granny's lips parted, and she sipped. She swallowed, and Jason couldn't help but notice how her abundant cleavage, compressed as it was by her leather vest, shimmied from the motion, bulging slightly over the top of the garment.

Granny parted her lips again, and gave him another imploring look. Jason held the bowl to her mouth again, and this time Granny drained the remainder. She gulped the water this time, so quickly that it dribbled from the corners of her mouth. Jason watched liquid trickle down her chin, the drops ultimately falling onto the upper slopes of Granny's crimson breasts, moistening the cleft of her jiggling cleavage.

Jason had a vision then, of another kind of lubrication for Granny's breasts. A lube that, judging by the jittery, excited feeling in his testicles, he could provide quite easily. While Granny's tits weren't as big as Pearl's, they'd easily be the second-largest jugs he'd have the pleasure of burying his cock between. He imagined putting her jugs to that purpose, surrounding his stiff pole in their warm, pillowy softness, stroking his meat with them to a squelching, gooey conclusion...

"Thank you, Jason," Granny said, interrupting his fantasy. The sultriness had returned to her voice, and Jason thought he heard a trace of amusement, almost as if she knew what Jason had been thinking. Jason felt his cheeks grow warm.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome," Jason said. "Now spill. All that shit going down outside," he cocked his head back toward the window, from where the sounds of battle, punctuated occasionally by the spooky howl of Pearl's laughter, drifted in, "what does that have to do with me?"

"Very well," Granny said, "but first you must understand something, Jason. Our world, Tarterus, is quite different from yours."

"You can say that again," Jason said. "Pink sky, for starters. What is

that

about?"

"Oh, it's more than the physical landscape," Granny said. "There are many worlds, Jason. Not just the two, but thousands. Many thousands. And each world is unique, having a timbre, a demeanor all its own."

"Timbre," repeated Jason. He was familiar with the concept of timbre, at least in the musical sense. It was the unique sounding of an instrument; the reason why a middle C on a piano sounded different from middle C on a flute. Same pitch, but different "voice".

"So, what," Jason said. "They sound different or something?"

"More like they

feel

different," Granny said.

"Okay, let's say that they do," Jason said. "Why is that important?"

"Because that timbre, that sounding of the world, influences the behavior of those who reside there," Granny said. "In the same way that the creatures of a world are shaped by climate and geography, the timbre of a world shapes their minds."

Jason scoffed at this. "Bull," he said. "That sounds like some hippie Mother Earth granola-eating shit to me."

Granny cocked an eyebrow. "You seem quite dismissive," she said.

"Duh," Jason said. "People make decisions on their own. Because they

want

to, not because some earth spirit tells them what to do."

"Of course, of course," Granny said. "Yet...I have been awake for some time, and I couldn't help but witness your...interactions...with Pearl."

Jason felt his cheeks flush again. "Yeah, that was... pretty intense," he admitted. "So?"

"It

was

intense," Granny said. "I appreciated your exuberance. I'd be speaking false if I claimed that I didn't experience... a panoply of emotions myself. If only my hands had been free to roam... down there..."

Jason was busy wondering what a "panoply" was, when Granny cast her eyes down toward her crotch, and paused to bite her lower lip. She lingered on it, seductively, making sure that Jason saw her doing so.

Was Granny trying to seduce him? And did she really think that Jason would fall for so obvious a trick? Because Jason had seen enough movies to know that whenever a prisoner came onto a guard, the guard ended up KO'd, or worse. So he grimaced at her clumsy attempt at seduction, as if to say "can it, sister". Geez, demons were bad at this seduction shit.

Granny abandoned the ruse, and continued. "I must ask, however, are all of your sexual encounters in that vein?"

Jason smirked and gave a chuckle. "That's a pretty personal question coming from someone that just tried to kill me," he said.

"But it

is

to my point," Granny said. "The fervor you felt, the intensity. The need to subjugate Pearl, to force her to submit to your desire, no matter how much it hurt her, the way you reveled in her pain, to fuel your own ardor...this is not your usual method of sexual congress, is it?"

Jason froze. His sexual encounters with Kristin were intense, violently passionate, even. Hell, the back of his head still tingled from the enthusiastic slit-licking he'd given her last week. But despite that, they didn't get off on hurting each other. He didn't, at least.

But Granny had nailed exactly how he had been feeling with Pearl. He had wanted, no

needed

, to control her, to punish her, to make her feel pain. The tit-fucking had been incredibly hot, no doubt about that, but what had really made him blow his load was her absolute submission to his will.

Even now, just the thought of how Pearl had begged and pleaded for him to use her caused Jason's cock to throb in response.

"Yes..." Granny said, with a significant glance at his pulsing cock, and then at the sheepish look on his face. "You felt it, didn't you? You felt the timbre of my world, the soul of Tarterus."

"I just got carried away..." Jason protested, and then remembered that Pearl had given him the same lame-ass excuse, right before transforming into an armor-clad killing machine.

"Of course you did," Granny said. "You lost yourself in desire, and that allowed the soul of this world entry. That's what this world is, Jason. Dominance and submission. Ruthlessness. Selfishness. This world, and all who live here, are steeped in brutality."

Jason couldn't believe what he was hearing. A world having a soul, and one that made its people into sadistic, evil creatures at that? It was patently ridiculous... but nonetheless seemed to have the ring of truth.

"So what are you saying?" Jason said, "That if I stay here long enough...?"

"You'll become like us," Granny said. "Oh, yes. The transformation is slow, but inevitable, and it has already begun." She smiled. "Perhaps that idea even appeals to you..."

Panic. "I've got to get out of here," Jason muttered. He looked nervously around him, at the open window, the gray stone walls, the chains hanging from the ceiling, the imposing wooden door, as if any of them could offer him a way out.

"How do I get out of this fucking place!?" Jason shrieked, his voice bordering on hysteria.

Granny eyed him coolly. "That is a middling complicated question," she said. "The ways between worlds have been shut for some time, the spells required to open them deliberately hidden, so as to prevent contamination."

"But Pearl found a way," Jason said. "She's done it a couple of times."

"At least," Granny said. "I have heard reports, of elixir going missing from the stores. I had thought it was merely the carelessness of the handlers, but in retrospect it seems obvious. Who knows how many forays our little Purleen has made to your world? Under different guises, so as to not arouse suspicion..."

"But Pearl can't be the only one who can do it!" Jason said.

Granny cocked her head nonchalantly. "Perhaps," she said, "Even so, the spells to open the ways are delicate, and the energies required are substantial."

Jason furrowed his brow. "You're holding out on me," he said, accusingly. "You seem to know so much, I bet you could do it."

"I wouldn't dare!" Granny said. "Our laws prohibit it, as Purleen well knows. In any case, there is the small matter of - " Granny's voice faltered, as another coughing fit interrupted her. Jason waited impatiently for her to recover.

"As you may have suspected," Granny said when she was finally able to speak again, her voice noticeably raspier, "the scuffle with Pearl has weakened me considerably."

"'Scuffle?!'" Jason repeated. "Lady, I saw you guys going at it. That wasn't some schoolyard horsing around. You guys were on some murder shit."

Granny gave a dismissive shrug. "Not really," she said. "Our kind is somewhat hardier than yours, as I'm sure you've seen. If fatalities had been intended, we would have crossed blades."

"What, like sword-fighting?" Jason asked.

"Indeed," Granny said. "For all our durability, the surest way to kill one of our kind is to sever the head. And the surest way to accomplish that is by using a blade."

"What is this, freakin' 'Highlander'?" Jason said. Granny raised one eyebrow questioningly. "I guess you probably don't get movies here," he said.

Granny surprised him by laughing. Not a polite giggle, nor a humorless chuckle, but an honest, mirthful laugh. That caught Jason off guard. He wouldn't have suspected that Granny had any laughter in her, save for the mocking kind.

"No, we do not," Granny said, still smiling, "although I have heard of your cinema. Here in Tarterus, we have other means of amusing ourselves."

"Like beating the tar out of each other?" Jason said, "And that shit going on outside?"

Granny coughed again. "My throat is still quite dry," she said. "Would you fetch me more water? There is more that I wish to tell you."

"Yeah, like how to get back home," Jason said, turning away to get more water from the cistern.

Jason returned to the cistern, and, keeping an eye on Granny, filled the bowl. Cautiously, he took a drink for himself. The water was cold and clean. Not like bottled water, but more like the water he'd tasted from natural sources, like streams and wells. Other than that it was perfectly ordinary.

So he

had

just been paranoid, but who could blame him? If Granny was to be believed, everything in this world was out to get him, so why not the water?

Jason put that thought aside and refilled the bowl. In the same manner as before, he presented the bowl to Granny to drink. She drank more greedily this time, allowing even more water to escape her lips and fall into her cleavage. Jason found himself staring again, and had to force himself to look away, lest his mind go wandering again. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose, as ludicrous as that seemed.

"Thank you again," Granny said, after using her dark red tongue to lick her lips, with maybe a bit too much relish. "Not many of your kind would be so forgiving under the same circumstances."

"Don't get it twisted, sister," Jason said. "There's no forgiveness here. I just need to know how to get the hell out of here."

Granny nodded slightly, as much as the scintillating cerise band of energy encircling her throat allowed.

"Of course," Granny said. "We were talking about magical energies."

"We were talking about how you can get me back to my fucking world," Jason said.

Granny raised one eyebrow. "Have a care with your tone, human," Granny said. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to ask Purleen herself, once she returns from battle?"

Right then, Pearl's laughter echoed from the battlefield below. He remembered the sight of a dozen horned heads practically jumping into the air after one of her mighty swings, and shivered.

"Fuck that," Jason said. "Can't you just teach me the magic words or whatever? Abracadabra and fifteen Hail Marys and presto?"

"Sadly, no," Granny said. "Even among our kind, the gift of spellcasting is not universal, and true talent is rare. Purleen is unusually gifted in that area. Fortunately for her, due to her diminutive size."

This puzzled Jason at first. Pearl was about the same height as he, six foot even. Tall for a human woman, but Granny dwarfed her by at least a foot. And how big were those muscular Spines brawling outside? Eight feet? Nine?

Seeming to sense the direction of his thoughts, Granny's face became grave. She pressed her lips together in a grimace, and it was only now that Jason noticed the telltale signs of her elder status. The otherwise flawless skin of her face showed faint lines at the corners of her mouth, the beginnings of crow's feet around her eyes.

"From her birth," Granny said, "Purleen was problematic. Underweight and weak. Barely viable. In more robust times, she would have been slain at birth. But the Wings had recently incurred great losses due to our endless warring. As such, every hatchling was deemed necessary."

Jason felt sick. He'd heard that animals in the wild did the same kind of thing. If there was a runt in the litter, one that was too small, or the mother didn't think it was going to make it, she'd sort of forget about it. Just ignore the thing until it died of hunger, thirst, or exposure. In the mother's mind, it was better to concentrate on the healthiest of the litter, instead of wasting energy trying to keep alive the one who was going to die anyway. Animals were downright mercenary like that, all survival of the fittest, but the idea of humans, or humanoids, he supposed, killing their own children at birth, turned his stomach.

Suddenly, Jason was blinded by an intense flash of golden light from outside, followed almost immediately by an ear-splitting peal of thunder. A pressure wave rocked the air, buffeting his body and knocking him to the floor.

Then it was over, and dazedly, Jason got back to his feet. Pearl howled again in malefic glee, and the sound echoed throughout the chamber.

"What the hell was that?" Jason said.

"No doubt Purleen has unleashed some new ability of hers," Granny said, sounding more annoyed than usual. And somehow muffled.

When the spots cleared from his vision, he saw that Granny's hair had fallen into her face, completely obscuring her features.

She looked ridiculous, her wavy hair all in her face like a sheepdog. Jason began to laugh. Then, with panic returning, he realized that if he didn't stop laughing now, he might never stop. With effort, he stifled his laughter before it overtook him completely.

"Does something amuse you?" Granny said, irritated.

"It's just...you look like that little girl from 'The Ring'," Jason said. "But I guess you've never seen that either."