Chapter 9: (v.2) A Column Destroyed (revised)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Erotica  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Reads: 58

A Column Destroyed

Meanwhile, the King's expeditionary force charged the wood, sending hounds in search of Lamia's trail. She reveled in the pursuit, keen to her guile. They would not know the crippling industry of her poisonous scent. At length, the dogs fell victim to the miasma, grew mad, and fell upon each other in a frenzy of violence.

Lamia chuckled, gasping delightedly while listening to the song of their agony. Gregory ordered the animals put down under a fusillade of arrows. Still, he pursued, venturing more deeply into the forest, drawn by Lamia’s wails and a sense of valor. So did Lamia doubled back on her trail, waiting in ambush as the men passed, unaware of the oncoming storm.

Despoina's eyes glowed in the dim carriage light. She placed a hand on her gypsy's clutching arm, realizing for the first Luminita's uncertainty as the child glanced nervously about, shrinking from the clatter of Beowulf's men following close behind, their armor glittering in the moonlight, men with souls sown from dragons teeth. Desponia pulled Luminita's head to her bosom and stroked her hair. Dracula regarded her with astonishment, unable to suppress his envy, the rising phantoms that lingered in the dark recesses of his soulless frame, his wife and children, lost in the passing centuries yet forever a dagger to his immortal heart.

"If only you'd left her to fate."

"As if fate were not a scoundrel," returned Desponia.

Even as Desponia spoke, Lamia snatched a straggler from the expeditionary force and tore him in half. She drove a talon through the breastplate of another, scooping his heart out while vomiting a hideous spray in the face of a third. Confusion gripped the column for a moment; the good soldiers rushed to the fray. But they were lambs for Lamia's terrible sickles. She cut them down like wheat, cursing their mothers and promising an afterlife to those who pledged allegiance to Hera with their dying breaths. Captain Gregory charged to the fore, but Lamia crushed him with a single backhand, lifting the captain's horse over her head and hurling it into the line with hurricane force.

Meanwhile, Onyx bristled, lapping a stream, standing downwind, listening to Lamia war, and tasting the blood mist carried on the night's breeze. Running up a hillside, he leaped to an outcrop, letting go with a summoning howl that soon brought a pack of thirty wolves to his side. Together they ran, shadows filtering through the twilight's violence.

The moon shone high above, casting pale rays upon the arena as Dracula's column entered a clearing. Beowulf raised a herculean arm, causing Ehrlich to rein in his team and leap from the driver's box, taking up a truncheon and preparing himself for battle. Onyx and his pack burst into the clearing as Desponia stepped defiantly from the carriage with Dracula at her side. And now Luminita held her hands up in fright, framing her pale and tragic beauty, her ruby lips, the sea green, and apprehension of her shocked eyes. Desponia extended her arms, lifting a thousand-pound boulder, holding it at the ready with an invisible force that emanated from her fingertips. At the same time, Beowulf advanced on the tree line with his warriors behind, a wall of shields and protruding spears.

On came Lamia, launching out of the tree line, her eyes burning with the spite of her hatred. She leaped over the shield wall with blinding speed, thinking to quickly destroy Desponia and escape a battle with the Geats.

But Beowulf had anticipated her maneuver and dropped back to defend the carriage.

Lamia lashed her tail, cutting down a score of Dracula's soldiers while Onyx ducked under the swinging blade, then caught hold of the serpent appendage and bit down with all his force. Lamia swung him, toy-like, using his body to club the wolf pack.

Despoina's boulder found its mark, striking the monster directly in the face as the Geats surrounded her and stabbed at her horrible sex.

Once again, Lamia leaped over their heads and made a final play for the goddess. But Dracula flew at her missile-like and turned her away. She wailed in anger, reaching for Onyx, who released his grip and ducked out of the way.

And then came Beowulf, and her courage faltered. She ran from the glen with Beowulf in pursuit. She distanced Beowulf with cheetah speed, but the Geat was tireless and steadily closing the gap.

Feeling Beowulf's breath on her back, she whirled in desperation, roaring as she squared for her final battle.

But the Geat was a mountain. He forced her onto her back, pinning her arms while he sat atop her chest, pummeling her with the savagery of his anvil fists. She tried her vomit, but Beowulf pushed her head to the side with crushing force, and Lamia felt her jaws collapse. Her vomit trickled harmlessly onto the surrounding shrubbery, and she used her last, catching breath to gurgle a supplication for Hera's blessing.

When Beowulf arrived back at the glen, he dropped Lamia's head at Desponia's feet, then stood among his men as they vanished together.


Submitted: September 13, 2022

© Copyright 2022 Laird. All rights reserved.

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