Spitecaller RV: Chapter 2
Chapter 2
After the handcuffs were removed, I followed the two police officers around the car and up the steps to Skye's house. My duffel bag was in the same place as I left it, undisturbed, and I thanked whatever Gods were listening for that. I removed my ritual headdress from the bag first. The multicolored feathers and beads hanging off the sides of it rustled in the wind as I donned the gear. It wasn't a particular piece for the voodoo I practice but it helps focus my energies and clears my head.
The next thing out was the chest piece. The bones clattered together as I slipped the clasp around my neck and tied the knot. The scratchy material the necklace was made of settled into my fur. Last, I removed a small Nutella container that had been washed and cleansed for another purpose: my ritual paint.
Times get hard sometimes.
"What are you doing?" Capman eyes the container as I unscrew the top and dab my fingertips into the sticky white gunk. It held a mixture of rosemary, hyssop, and mugwort so it had an interesting smell to it. I smear swathes of the paint on my cheekfur and forehead with deliberate movements before capping it and wiping the rest as a layer on my paws.
"Prepping myself for the fight ahead." With my loins well-girded, I take the steps up behind them and nod. "There's a dangerous spirit in there and we don't know exactly what it's capable of at this point."
"Really? So, we're going in blind? I thought you said you knew what to do?" Barlow looked over his shoulder at me.
"I said that I was a weaver and that I had more training but I didn't promise anything." I couldn't keep the ire from my voice. What did he think I was...some kind of warrior priest from a graphic novel?
"Great," He steadied himself and nodded to Capman and the two threw themselves against the door in unison, bursting through the barrier with one swift bash. It was impressive. Pieces of wood burst forth in a big cloud and a resounding slam echoed through the house.
As the splinters cleared, they entered the abode, both drew their handguns from the holsters on their belts. I wanted to say something about the bullets being useless at this point but they were professionals in their element. I didn't want to ruin their fun.
"We have blessed silver in the first two bullets." Barlow shot back to me. I blinked in surprise. Did he read my mind? No time for it now, I suppose.
The three of us sweep through the building, checking room by room until we found Skye's body lying on the floor. Her kitchen lights were still on, the fluorescent casting eerie, stark shadows. Capman runs forward as Barlow covers him with the handgun, searching the area around the panther. He checks the body but I already can see that she's still alive, barely. Small, multicolored ribbons of energy lurch out of her chest and snake their way into the breakfast nook by the kitchen. Sitting in the chair and staring at the three of us was the incubite. So, it hadn't finished with her yet.
"She's still alive." Capman called back after checking her pulse. "It's weak but she's still with us."
I swallow hard at keep eye contact with the thing that the other two can't see. It trails a skeletal finger across the wood of the table and grins at me. The spirit was fed to the brim with power and it was gaining more by the second, draining my friend. What was it that could expel them? I couldn't do the basic thing because this wasn't my home. I guess I'd have to settle for a distraction.
"How did you get in here?" I ask.
"What?" Barlow looked over at me. My attention is anchored to the incubite. It doesn't reply. Ah well, it was worth a shot.
"Is it here with us?" Capman asked, his eyes darting around the space where I was looking.
"Yeah, it's sitting in the chair right now. The one that's pulled out."
The panther paled. He was very close to that table.
The bones creaked as the thing got to its skeletal paws. The weird thing was, the sound creaked in my head but not in the surroundings, like it was projecting the sound just for me to hear. It reached a long finger out to touch Capman's cheek, bending over to get to him. My time to think was up.
I sprint forward and throw myself into the thing to keep it from getting to the policeman. It must have been quite a sight too. A red fox wrestling in mid-air through some wood on the tables and chairs. I lock my paws around its arms and try to shove it to the floor. At least, I could break its concentration. Maybe.
The incubite's eyes burn with energy. A claw goes down my neck and I feel a sharp pain before warmth leaks out. I clench my teeth to stop from crying out and rear back, punching it with a solid hook to the jaw. My knuckles collided with bone and the exposed edges cut through my fur and skin, but it knocked the spirit down. Clasping my paws together, I swing both my arms up and hammer them down into the thing's ribcage. A spider web of cracks appear in the bones and I continue to pound the thing into the floor.
After a few solid hits in, a paw clasped my wrist and wrenched me up from the floor. It was Barlow's. The pull was a violent one and I almost left the floor from the force of it, but he didn't throw me like it felt.
"Barlow?! What the hell?!" I'm not very short, but this stag made me feel like I was. His bicep bulged as he continued to dangle me. "Let me go!"
Capman was lying unconscious over by the snow leopard. She grimaced and started to cough, waking up.
Barlow looked over at the incubite behind us and that's when I noticed the glazed look in his eyes. His chocolate brown irises had spinning flames beneath them and they weren't reflections. Shit. He's bespelled.
The spirit placed a paw on the floor and got to its feet, swaying. Good. I hoped it was hurting and I let that show in my face. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling began to swing back and forth. The cabinet doors in the kitchen opened and closed, pulsating in rhythm to the creature's waves of energy. They washed over me as it walked past us toward the door.
"Hey. HEY!" I yell. So far, the glamour-stricken stag wasn't doing anything overtly harmful, except for, well, the holding me back part. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. I can't let it leave but I didn't want to hurt Barlow.
I took another glance into his eyes. It didn't seem like there was any recognition and I hoped he wouldn't see this. The energy began building up again but this time, it was in my right paw. The sizzling white power spun like lightning around my palm and the fur there started to burn. I didn't have enough time to properly lay down a protective shield. Stupid but true.
I shot a lance of white lightning into the incubite's back from across the room before it turned the corner. It wasn't expecting that. The spirit whirled around and focused those fiery eyes on min. My head started to pound and my vision got hazy. The world seemed to be underwater now and I blinked furiously to try and clear my vision, hanging there like fruit.
"You don't just get to walk out of here after fucking with us like this!" I shake my head again, ears flattened to my skull. The buildup began again. Smells of burned flesh trailed into the air along with ashes as my paw pads burned. Pain flashed through my mind but I shoved it away under the anger.
Another paw came up and disturbed my slinging. The spell fizzled and I was suddenly without the use of either of my paws. The stag pressed his muzzle against mine in a fierce kiss, carrying me over to the counter top. I caught a glimpse of the skeletal grin before it headed out the door.
Cursing all the worst words I could think of, I punch the cop in the chest, hoping that would rouse him from the holds of the spirit. It was like punching a wall and it worked just as well. Both of my paws were very sore now and were not listening to me anymore, too much abuse. The stag restrained me again and forced himself between my legs, pressing in for another kiss. It was hot and wet, full of his sweet-smelling breath and soft lips. The incubite must have left a lingering instruction.
Great, being raped to death was on the top of my bucket list.
"Barlow, listen to me. You're under compulsion and you need to dive back into your cop training, okay?" I keep my voice steady. Talking someone out of a mind-effecting stupor needs to be done carefully. "You're in a victim's house and this is not you in control right now."
He begins to undo the zipper from my jeans, hoisting my sweater and shirt up. I'm forced to throw my paws back against the counter to keep from getting my head knocked silly on the cabinet. This is so uncomfortable. How do people actually have sex in a kitchen?
He doesn't say anything. Grunts and heavy breathing escape from his muzzle and the antlers wave in my face as he pulls my cock out from my jeans and stuffs it between his waiting lips. Smacking noises fill my ears as he takes me down all the way to the knot. My eyes flutter.
"D-damn, you don't have a gag reflex, do you?" The burly stag continues to slip his mouth up and down my shaft. He takes huge gulps and runs his tongue along the underside. The pleasure receptors in my brain are going haywire and I have to fight to control myself. Luckily, it wasn't a very good blowjob, just exuberant. It was like he was trying to eat me and satisfy some inner demon. I needed to find some way to knock him unconscious that wouldn't involve him biting off my dick.
Barlow drew back and saliva trailed from my sore head to his lips. He stared up at me and began to shimmy my pants farther down my thighs. More white fur was exposed with the line of crimson down to the crux of my legs. Standing up, he started to undo the fly on his uniform.
I fling myself off of the counter and ride his chest to the floor. The air is knocked out of him but he stays awake and coughs. Damn. I roll to the side off of him and fumble with my pants, pulling them back up over me. There isn't a lot of time to waste doing this and I rake my eyes across the kitchen to see if Skye left out a rolling pin, a skillet, or something!
There!
A wooden cutting board made out of thick bamboo riveted together is under a couple of dishtowels next to the sink. It was a convenient paw-hold on the side of it. As I take a step forward, a wrenching pain goes up my spine. That assbag grabbed my tail!
I whirl around and lash out with a snap-kick to his shoulder. My aim was off. He takes the entire force of it and strikes my leg out from under me with a kick of his own. Damn police combat training. I'm on the ground again, blinking up at the ceiling. Tears of frustration start to pop up but I keep them back, hissing. The stag's face blocks the view as he gets on top of me.
"Fuck you! Have you no self-control at all?! Did they teach you fucking anything in that damn--"
I was interrupted from my tirade by loud conking sound and the cop slumped over to the side. Skye stood behind him with the cutting board. Her hair was a complete mess and she had a wild look in her eyes.
"Ian, you okay?" She dropped the board and came over to me. It took us a moment in our weakened states, but we moved the stag off of me and then collapsed on the tiles.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. You?"
The snow leopard looked at the two knocked out officers on the floor of her kitchen and laughed, a high and nervous noise. "I've had people passed out on my floor but never before the party."
I rub my forehead with my wrist. "Skye, what was that incubite doing in your house?"
"It's a long story. Hold on, let me phone some folks and tell them not to come. We have some cleaning up to do."
We? Yeah, I suppose we did.
(c) Gentry Scribed 2014