Deceased Dora Read online

  “No, Terrance don—” She didn’t finish her sentence before he gripped his head in his hands.

  A wild gleam glittered in his eyes. “Take this you devious fools!” he cried as he twisted his head. There was an audible crack when he broke his own neck.

  “You fucking idiot!” She tightly gripped the bars as he fell face-first onto the floor, and his head rolled to the side, staring at her with empty eyes.

  Even though the scene was a little upsetting, she knew he’d wake up with no permanent side effects in a few hours.

  “Bloody moron!” She told his corpse.

  What the hell did he do that for?

  She shook her head at the absolute stupidity of his actions. Now she would be stuck here waiting for him to wake up.

  “You fucking emo idiot. I swear that when you wake up, I’m going to kill you!”

  “Now, now, there’s no need to threaten our saviour,” a familiar voice said behind her.

  She spun around to face the Ancient One, who was studying her through the bars of her door.

  “Screw you too,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the master vampire.

  Terrance had totally pissed her off by ruining any escape plans that she might have had.

  Since she was already trapped in a cell, there wasn’t any reason to be nice to this wanker.

  “You are finally going to reap the rewards of your disrespect,” the Ancient One said. “Until now, you have been under the protection of the Saviour, but there is no such protection for you anymore, worthless human.”

  “I’m a human?” She wondered aloud. “Since when?”

  “We have studied you and determined that you are nothing more than a human.”

  “Then, how come I can’t die?”

  “Just because a group of mentally deficient rednecks can’t kill you, it doesn’t mean I can’t.” The Ancient One shot her a devilish smile before turning to the vampire guards behind him. “Open her cell, and bring her to the courtroom.”

  Dora stared at the massive executioner, who was standing in front of her. He wielded a shiny axe and wore a wicked smile.

  She shivered and scanned the pit around her. There was only one exit, which the axe-happy vampire was blocking with his bulging form.

  “This is bullshit, man. You call this a trial?” She called out to the Ancient One and his council of five middle-aged vampires.

  “If you win the trial, you shall be rewarded with your freedom.” The Ancient One called down to her. “All you have to do is walk through the door.”

  She glanced back at the burly vampire, who was standing in her way. He wore leather pants and a black leather mask.

  “Wonderful,” she muttered. “You’re a fan of Fifty Shades, aren’t you?” she asked.

  The executioner rolled his eyes. “Just because I like leather, it does not make me a sadist,” he said in a squeaky voice.

  “No, but the axe is a dead giveaway,” she muttered under her breath.

  She eyed the sharp axe, focusing on the sigils engraved down the side of it.

  If they can trap Terrance with those things, will they be able to kill me with them?

  Her pulse raced as the executioner moved towards her. She backed up against the wall of the pit, fighting to ignore her fear.

  She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, accessing her anger and refusing to crumble. She clenched her hands into fists and tried to call upon the demon powers she once had.

  Come on! This screwed up existence has to have some benefits. Hell powers, kick in already!

  She concentrated hard on summoning something that would assist her.

  She stared at her hands in awe as they glowed red, first her fingers, then her palms. She shook her head. It wasn’t enough. She needed more power.

  Digging her fingernails into her palms, she willed demonic power to flow through her.

  The glow spread up to her wrists while a searing pain ripped across her chest. She bit back a scream of agony as pain blossomed through her entire body. She closed her eyes in concentration and clenched her jaw, forcing herself to summon a weapon.

  After only seconds, she felt a something lightweight appear in her left hand. She expelled a sigh of relief before glancing down at it.

  Finally, something I can fight back wit—she widened her eyes as she stared down at the miniature crossbow in her hands.

  It was golden and shiny with a tiny, toothpick-sized wooden arrow in it.

  Are you shitting me? I ask for a vampire weapon and get Tom Thumb’s fucking crossbow!

  She raised her hand to eyelevel and stared at the tiny contraption. There were holes in it where her fingers should go, so it would fit on her hand like a glove.

  Only one arrow! What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  She heard coughing and glanced up to see the executioner waving red smoke out of his face.

  Did I make the red smoke too?

  Shrugging, she ducked down and slipped the tiny crossbow onto her hand. Using the smoke for stealth, she aimed her gloved hand at the executioner.

  Maybe a toothpick can annoy him enough, so I can get past him.

  She pulled back her index finger, which activated the triggering mechanism. The tiny arrow shot out of the bow. She watched it fall short of the executioner’s chest and embed in his knee instead.

  “Fuck! Oww,” the executioner cried. “My adventuring days are over now I’ve taken an arrow in the knee.” He whined as he pulled it out. “I’ll end up as an NPC in Skyrim.” He held the tiny projectile in his massive hands. “Did you just fucking shoot me with a toothpick?”

  He stared at the tiny stick with a blank expression. “Did I just take a toothpick in the knee?” He growled while lifting his axe and heading towards her with a mean look in his eyes.

  Shit!

  She panicked and scanned the small pit for an escape route, but it was too small, and he was too close to her.

  Stupid fucking crossbow.

  She glanced down at it and paused. It was loaded with a second arrow.

  She grinned.

  It’s self - loading.

  She aimed it at the executioner, higher this time, so it hit his chest. Then she pulled back her fingers into a fist.

  The arrow shot out of bow with such force that it slammed her back against the rough wall of the pit.

  She barely saw it as it smashed into the vampire’s chest and knocked him off his feet. He arched in agony and screamed. Flesh fell away from his bones, and he crumbled to dust on the floor.

  She heard gasps coming from the council above, as their head executioner became a giant pile of dust.

  She pushed herself off the wall and narrowed her eyes at the vampire council before walking towards the open doorway and climbing the stone steps up to the courtroom.

  The elder vampires backed away from her when she raised her hand towards them, but the Ancient One held his ground.

  “I’m not afraid of a toothpick, girl.” His fangs popped out, and he launched at her.

  She feigned left, so he flopped into the pit and landed face-first in the pile of dust with an ‘eww’ sound. She turned on her heel and raced out of the room towards the door that led to the dungeons.

  Her pulse was racing as she ran down the hall, shooting random toothpicks at vampires when she passed them.

  She glanced back and gulped when she saw the large group of roaring vampires chasing after her.

  Dodging the clawed hands that reached for her, she darted into the cellblock, tugging on the release lever as she dashed past it.

  All the cell doors swung open in unison.

  Terrance, please don’t still be dead, or we’re both fucked!

  Terrance stepped out of his cell ahead of her and scratched his head, looking around him with a confused expression.

  “Terrance!” she cried, and he spun to face her. “Get us the hell out of here!”

  “What happened?” he asked as she pumped her arms, hearing the sounds of
an army of angry vampires chasing her.

  “No time.” She gasped as she felt sharp teeth graze the back of her neck. “Teleport.” She leapt away from the teeth and into his arms.

  Terrance clicked his fingers, and the dungeon full of angry vampires faded away as they swirled into the ether.

  Pooey rested his head on the bars of his cell and sighed.

  What if it doesn’t work?

  For a moment, he felt the urge to give up and just stay here, but some part of him refused to give up.

  Ever since he had met Dora, he had realised that there was nothing you couldn’t defeat.

  He gripped the bars with his paws and let out a loud roar. No, he wouldn’t give in to depression, not this time! There weren’t any Hagen Daz or cheesy puffs around for him to binge on anyway.

  He glanced back and grimaced at the bowl of kibble in the corner.

  Fucking rabbit food!

  He eyed his fur-lined cell and crossed the room with determination, scowling when he walked over the dark-brown paw print in the centre of the floor.

  The decorator should be shot.

  He pulled his bed aside and reached under the mattress for a small bag that he had hidden beneath it. He stared into the contents of the plastic bag with a grim smile.

  Bitch candy , he thought as he pushed the bed back into place with his knee.

  He strode back towards the circular door of his cell and peered through the bars, still gripping the bag.

  The giant, grey-furred guard was standing down the hall, its fluffy tail standing to attention behind it. It was about the same size as him and wore a red bandana around its neck.

  Pooey plucked some bitch candy out of the bag and stared at it. The giant acorn shone as it rested in his hands.

  Here boy, come get your treats.

  He rolled the acorn through the bars, and it thumped across the tiled floor of the hallway.

  He moved back after taking a fleeting glance through the bars. He saw the squirrel guard’s flinty eyes follow the noise and then widen when it saw the acorn.

  Its tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth, and it began to move towards the acorn.

  That’s right, dumbass. Follow the food.

  He dropped a trail of acorns across the floor of his cell towards his bed. They didn’t make a sound as they landed on the soft fur floor. He dropped the full bag beside his bed and then jumped on the mattress and lay down, feigning sleep while peering at the cell door with one eye half open.

  The giant squirrel came into view as it picked up the acorn and popped it into its mouth. Pooey saw the creature’s cheek puff out as it stored the nut inside, making it have a lopsided face. The guard spun around scanning the ground for more.

  Come on, come on, go for the prize.

  His heart raced. This was his only chance of getting that door open and finding a way out of here.

  The guard’s eyes widened when he saw the trail of acorns, and he hopped from paw to paw outside the door while staring at them with hungry eyes.

  Pooey was counting on the critter’s animal instincts overpowering any obligations of duty. He wanted to jump for joy when the guard unlocked the prison door, but he didn’t. He remained completely still, only daring to breath.

  He needed the creature to come within grabbing distance, so it couldn’t raise the alarms. More than that, he needed information. He didn’t plan on blindly running out into the halls—not this time.

  The guard checked the hallway was clear before inclining his furry head around the door. He sniffed at the first acorn, which lay on the floor in front of him. After scanning the room, his beady eyes settled on the acorn again.

  He scampered after it, leaving the door ajar behind him. He picked up the acorn in both of his paws and studied it with interest.

  Pooey’s ass twitched. The squirrel’s head darted in his direction. Pooey’s pulse raced, but he tried to keep his body as relaxed as possible. The guard stared for a moment before popping the acorn into his mouth and scampering forward to the next one.

  He watched the squirrel go from one acorn to the next while pondering how stupid the guard was. When the greedy little sod got the bag, Pooey tensed for an attack.

  The squirrel didn’t see him coming as he launched himself at the large grey animal and pinned it to the floor.

  Its sharp claws dug into his bear fur, but he didn’t feel it. He had a thick hide these days.

  He pinned the guard down with his body and raised a bear paw over it. He grinned as his giant claws popped out and sharply glinted in the bright light.

  “Time for you and I to have a little chat.” He told the guard as he lowered his claws to the squirrel’s neck.

  The guard’s dark eyes widened when he cut off the red bandana with one swipe.

  “Talk!”

  The squirrel opened its mouth and an acorn shot out of it and bonked Pooey on the forehead.

  He growled and gripped the squirrel’s neck. Four more acorns popped out, each one aimed at his face.

  He sighed when the last one slapped across the side of his cheek. “Are you done?”

  The squirrel shrugged.

  “Got any more?”

  The squirrel shook his head.

  “Right, I want information, and I want it now.” He flashed his teeth at the trembling critter and growled again.

  An acorn bounced off his forehead.

  He narrowed his eyes and squeezed the guard’s neck. “Talk or die!”

  The squirrel shuddered beneath him and gasped out a squeak. It stared at him with wide, solemn eyes.

  “What?” he asked.

  The guard squeaked several times.

  “Are you fucking shitting me? All you can do is squeak?”

  The squirrel squeaked again, and its beady little eyes shone with fear.

  He shook his head and sighed before glancing around the room for something to tie it up with.

  “How did I get caught by critters as stupid as you?” he asked it.

  An evil gleam appeared in the guard’s eyes, and its pointy fangs popped over its bottom lip when it grinned.

  Pooey frowned.

  What’s he looking pleased about?

  Several rough hands grabbed him from behind and pushed him against the wall, face-first. He growled while struggling against multiple clawed paws.

  He extended his bear claws and ripped into the fluffy beige wall while trying to push away from it as he tried to turn to face his captors, but it was no use. They were too strong and too many.

  He turned his head to see the room behind him. The guard was standing up and squeaking at the other guards who had filled the room. He was pointing to the bag of acorns. Several of the squirrels leapt onto it and popped acorns into their mouths. Others squeaked back in some kind of high-pitched communication.

  The little fucker was crying for help when he was squeaking!

  Pooey sighed and rested his head against the wall in defeat.

  Fucking squirrels, man.

  Dora clung to Terrance as a dark room spun around them. She tried to contain the feeling of sickness as the room materialised and finally stopped spinning.

  Where the hell has he teleported us to this time?

  She waited for her vision to clear and for her stomach to stop churning before glancing at the walls and breathing a sigh of relief when they didn’t cause bile to rise in her throat.

  They appeared to be in some kind of wooden cabin. Thick logs for walls and wooden floorboards made up the interior. The room would have been cosy if not for the effects of time.

  Thick dust lined every surface, and stringy cobwebs hung from every corner. The curtains were torn and faded, and the windows behind them were shattered shards of glass. Time had made the place creepy, dark and unwelcoming.

  “Where are we?” She glanced around at Terrance.

  He walked over to the broken couch and slumped down on it. “This was my weekend getaway.” He peered around the room with sadness in
his eyes. “I guess the caretaker died while I was away.”

  “Looks like—gah!” She yelped when she walked over to him and face-first into a massive cobweb.

  She panicked and repeatedly rubbed her face until all the webbing was gone. Goosebumps popped up on her arms at the thought of a million spiders crawling all over her.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And go where?” He stared down at his hands. “Banished by my own kind, what place can I call home?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Here we go.

  “Lost, lost in an abyss of darkness with only my memories to keep me warm. I am a dark soul in the harsh, bright world. Why would my kind abandon me so? Such betrayal in this new world, such heartache—”

  She slapped him across the face several times, interrupting him before he got going.

  “Snap out of it.”

  “Why? Why should I?” A red handprint blushed his cheek.

  He stared at her with angry eyes. “We’ve got time. No one is chasing us anymore. If I want to mope, then mope I shall.”

  “And what good will moping do you?”

  “I’ll probably create a great sonnet from my woe or perhaps an anthology.”

  She shook her head. “Fine, I need an hour out of insanity anyway, but like hell I’m listening to your sonnet of woe. I’ll be looking for something to eat instead.” She left him in the main room and wandered over to a doorway that led to a small kitchen.

  “You’ll appreciate my deeper meaning when you’re older.” He called behind her.

  “I doubt it,” she muttered as she swung open the doors to a large, antique dresser.

  The interior of the dining cabinet was shadowed, so she leaned closer and stared into the darkness. It smelled musty and old.

  Her eyes eventually adjusted to the inky interior of the cabinet, noticing a dark lump on the top shelf. She studied it closely.

  It moved, and she jumped back with a yelp.

  A green eye popped open and stared at her.

  She screamed and fell backwards onto the cracked, tiled floor, landing on her ass and staring up at the monstrous beast in the cupboard.

  A fat-bodied, three-foot-wide spider glared at her from the shelf. It had short, patterned fur all over it, and a grey beard of fuzz hung from its chin. Its tiny, pointed fangs glinted in the light as it hissed at her.