Monday, May 26, 2014

Accidental Demon Slayers: Daughter of Darkness pt. 23


Clare had just started to convince herself that the whole mermaid thing was a part of the ride when the boat floated into the next cavern.  It had to be.  It seemed too staged, and if that thing had really meant to harm either of them, it would have.  Still, something in her gut told her that she was just kidding herself.  This presence, whatever it was, was playing with them. Like a cat playing with a mouse before it killed it. 

The next cavern was made to look like a swamp, the large, moss-covered trees sprouting out of the murky water.  Vines hung down from the ceiling and brushed their faces as they floated along.  The music switched again, a strumming banjo replacing the sound of the woman humming. 

“This was a bad idea.”  The camera was shaking in Max’s hand. 

“Listen, it’s just a ride.  That was probably a gag to help scare the girls so they would press a little closer to their dates.”  Clare leaned in, whispering in Max’s ear.  She needed to keep him calm. 

They were stuck in a small boat, surrounded by water filled with God knows what, and the last thing she needed was for him to freak out and try and jump over board.  Maybe she was right.  Maybe the ride was just a ride. 

She kept repeating that sentence over and over in her head as the boat neared the middle of the cavern.  There, set farther back, almost flush with what she was guessing was the back wall, was a small, log cabin, set high on stilts over the water.  A peer jutted out, and sitting on that peer was a small, furry creature.  The blue light made his matted fur look gray, and his big, bug eyes seemed to glisten in the faux moonlight.  He had on a small vest, and a banjo rested in his lap. 

The boat stopped.  Clare held her breath. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have hear!”  A voice came on over the speakers, the banjo music playing faintly behind it.  “Is that a pare of young lovers I see?  How sweet.” 

The voice had a thick, southern accent.  Clare couldn’t place it, and she figured it was most likely because the person doing it was some long forgotten Chicago voice actor doing his best Beverly Hillbillies impression. 

The recording continued.  “Well, I hope your love is pure and chaste, because we don’t take kindly to sinners round these parts.”  The creature on the peer began to strum his banjo.  “Oh no, we don’t.  We skin them alive, and feed them to the mermaids.” 

“This is sick.” Max was shaking his head, his camera pointed right at the creature on the peer. 

Clare had to agree.  This all just felt so wrong.  This whole ride had a weird, perverse streak to it.  She couldn’t recall if she had ever ridden the Tunnel of Love when she was a kid, but if she had, she didn’t remember any of this. 

Suddenly, two vines dropped from the ceiling, both on either side of the peer.  Near identical creatures to the one playing the banjo clung to the vines with one hand, and in their other hand was a long, curved blade. 

“So,” the voice continued, “are ya sinners?  And don’t forget, lyin’ is a sin.”  The voice began to cackle. 

The vines began to swing, and the blades those creatures were holding seemed to be getting awfully close to Clare and Max. 

“What the fuck is this?”  Max scooted against her, doing his best to put some distance between him, and the approaching blades. 
“Sinners!  Sinners!”  Little, squeaky voices began to play over the speakers, and the banjo music seemed to pick up pace.  “Skin the sinners!  Feed them to the mermaids!” 

There was a thunk as one of the vines smacked into the side of the boat.  The blade came inches from Max’s eye, missing only because he ducked at the last second.

The boat jerked forward, and the vines shot back up into the ceiling. 

“I don’t think I can take much more of this…” Max looked at Clare, his eyes wide. 

“I think we only have one more cavern to get through.  You’ll be fine.”  She put her arm around his shoulders.  “I’ll protect you.” 

She just wondered who the hell would protect her.  

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