“So, you cunts ready to die?” asked the Minotaur.
The cunts being addressed, Laura and Evangelina Vesh, were absolutely not. No way.
Nobody in the sex pit wanted to die.
The Minotaur loved being alive. Before they were synonyms for semen, ‘jism’ and ‘spunk’ were originally words signifying a vivacious, animative energy. The Minotaur was full of jism and spunk. Awash with orgone and vrill. Nothing and nobody was more alive than Rutt the Minotaur and that was the way he liked it.
Peartree the dryad loved being alive. If she still was. Since Rutt had killed her tree and bound her nymphic spirit to his axe, there was an argument to be made that she was dead already. You could say that no longer being the spirit of a living tree meant she was some kind of ghost now or something. Peartree wasn’t sure about that, but what she was sure about was that she didn’t want to get any deader.
Laura and Evangelina loved being undead. Which as far as they could understand it was a lot more like being alive than dead. Being undead felt almost exactly the same as being alive… what with all the thinking, ingesting and moving… and not very much at all like being dead. The only things being a vampire seemed to have in common with being dead were sleeping in coffins and having a generally morbid aesthetic. Other than that they were a lively bunch.
This had been one of the things Evangelina had specifically checked on back when the Burgrave had found her, doing the Peacock Strut for shitty audiences in a second rate Ligature dance troupe, and offered her the dark embrace of vampirism.
"If I say yes," she’d asked him, "Am I choosing to die?"
"If you say yes," Chevoy Vesh had answered, "You are choosing to never die.
She made her choice that day.
She remembered it centuries later as she faced off against a Minotaur in a sex pit.
“I’m never going to die,” Evangelina said, “It’ll take more than you to kill a vampire.”
“Is that right?” chuckled Rutt.
He threw a dead bat at her feet. Most of a dead bat anyway, by weight. It was missing one head, one wing and one teat.
Evangelina’s vampire senses at once recognised the blood type and the aetherial signature.
The Heterosexual!
“Okay,” she self corrected, “It’ll take more than you to kill a lesbian vampire.”
While her mouth was doing bravado, her eyes were assessing the situation. The Heterosexual had at least done some damage to the brute. There was trauma to his neck and his penis. It all looked superficial though. Her nails and teeth had broken his leathery skin but made little progress into his tissue beyond that.
The effectiveness of the lesbians' own slashing and piercing attacks was likely to be limited. Supplemented by celerity, it might be enough. The two of them, moving fast enough, could slash and scratch at the beast until they wore him down and bled him out.
Other options were escape and mind control.
Evangelina could see that Laura was frantically doing The Thing With Her Eyes and wiggling her fingers to try and Charm the Minotaur. Nothing was happening. Evangelina felt pretty sure that a creature like this would be immune anyway. And, to be honest, she hadn't felt comfortable about the whole issue of mind control since she'd read a leaflet on "BUILDING A CULTURE OF CONSENT" that someone from the church had put through the letterbox a while back.
Escape then. Evangelina had no way of knowing that Ravincal had been enough of a dumb bitch to transform into a bat while missing an arm, and reasonably assumed that the chiropteran corpse on the floor meant that the Minotaur had some nasty trick up his sleeve for dealing with escaping bats.
There was still the optioning of spider-climbing up the walls leaving him down here. To be honest that was kind of how Evangelina was expecting this to end. But first they were gonna have a damn good try to kill this motherfucker.
Battle was joined.
Two lesbian vampires versus one Minotaur and an infinite sequential number of dryads.
In addition to a standard barrage of swings, hacks, kicks and stomps, Rutt seemed to be cycling through four main special attacks.
Exterminating Angel - A spicy, wide cleave with his axe. Well telegraphed.
Back on My Bull Shit - Leaning forward and just fucking charging at them with his horns.
Shortstack Lightning - The shaft of his axe could project out short, chubby dryads with some force. As each instance of Peartree died, he could spawn the next one by shooting her out of the axe like a canon.
Teat Tornado - Grabbing one of the lesbians by an udder, swinging them round three-hundred-and-sixty degrees a couple of times, and then flinging them into the wall. Yowch!
Most of these their celerity made it easy to dodge, but the 'Shortstack Lightning' attack was a danger. Even if they were able to dodge the dryad being shot out of the axe (and it was no joke having a fat nymph slamming into you at bullet speeds) it still left an instance of Peartree on the board to grab them, weigh them down, and make them vulnerable to Rutt's next attack.
Laura had just dodged a Shortstack Lightning, but the dryad it had spawned had then grabbed her ankles, letting the Minotaur seize her by the titty and use Teat Tornado. It really looked like it fucking hurt!
Evangelina thought maybe it was best if she Tank and her wife DPS.
"You handle the adds! I'll burn down the boss!" she called out.
It was a risky strategy. Killing each Peartree only let Rutt shoot out another Peartree. But it gave them a brief window before he could... a window in which they were free to move and concentrate their fire.
And it was gonna take a lot of concentrated fire to bring down the Minotaur. Their attacks were doing little more than chip damage.
But they were in a rhythm that would, eventually, lead to them winning. It might take hours, or days, but Team Lesbian were getting hits in and Team Minotaur wasn't. Evangelina bit and slashed at Rutt, moving when necessary to get out of his AOEs, while Laura took out the chubby green women, creating opportunities for both to get in close and bleed the Man Bull.
The rhythm persisted. The vampires relaxed into it.
Then the rhythm changed.
Rutt's axe stopped shooting out short, thicc bitches. The vampires naturally assumed that meant it had finally run out.
Laura launched herself at Rutt's throat while he was rebalancing from an 'Exterminating Angel' swing of his axe.
Big mistake.
Peartree couldn't 'run out' of Peartrees. The nymphic spirit wasn't projecting an external humanoid form right now because inside the wood was exactly where Rutt wanted her. Inside the wood; Animating it.
Laura's teeth tore into Rutt.
The shaft of the axe changed shape, fashioned itself into a stake, twisted round at an unforeseeable angle, and plunged itself through Laura's undead heart.
Laura exploded into a cloud of ashes and dust, and its constituents drifted down to form a pile at the Minotaur's feet.
"NO!" screamed Evangelina.
She looked down at the grey mass of desiccated nothing that had been her true love and whole world for hundreds of years. She looked down at the dismal flakes that had been her wife.
She looked down and, for just a moment, she wanted to die.
In that moment, the Minotaur severed her head.
Suddenly got dark, but it's fine since this is a "horror story" after all
Thanks for the comment! It means the world.
This story is, ultimately, a pretty dark one! Though what happened in this chapter might not turn out to be as bad as it looks...
(I wish I’d been able to do all of the Assault on the Castle as one chapter but it would have been way too long)