Van Helsing's Castle 2, page 10
Chapter eleven
Interrogation
The dungeon wasn’t half as dingy as I expected, but that made sense. It was a fairly new room, after all, and Vania didn’t have all that much time to let it gather the staples dungeons are known for—mold, rats, whatever. It was dark and depressing enough, I guess, but the rather bland smell in the air didn’t inspire much fear or foreboding.
Still, the dismal atmosphere was present in other ways. We stepped down gray castle stairs, the walls sconced with only the dimmest torches. A faint groan came to us from a distance, beyond my sight. Something was in the way.
I didn’t actually need the torchlight. I was at home in the dark thanks to my powers, especially in my castle. Everything felt like home inside these walls, so I found my way to the noise easily. As we emerged from the bottom of the stairs, Angelica looped her arm sweetly around mine, grinning up at me girlishly as our hostage wailed from around the corner.
I beamed back at her, amused and charmed by the oddly blissful look on her face. “What’s up?” I asked, pressing in my way for a bit of understanding. “What’s that oddly cute look on your face about?”
She shook her head, momentarily closing her eyes. Opening them again, she said, “We’re going to interrogate our first hostage together.”
“Is that a Christian thing to do?” I asked, chuckling.
She giggled. “Well—seeing as how this man is part of an occult order of blaspheming heretics bent on bringing about the end of all Creation, I think I’ll be fine after going to confession.”
We turned the corner. A feeble man in the darkness, lying on a cot made of straw conjured by Vania, twisted, tossed, and turned. He coughed, wheezing for air, completely void of all that power I’d seen him demonstrate back outside the arachne’s castle.
Not so tough now, are you? I thought to myself, a bit petty. Angelica pressed her body against me, and for a moment I thought she was suddenly nervous or scared. When I looked at her face, though, I realized the opposite was true. She was biting her lip so hard that I worried she might break the skin. The succubus stared at the sickly, defeated man and ground her thighs together, emitting a soft but immodest moan of—something.
I wanted so badly to react to that, but I kept my mouth shut and focused on the mission at hand. Walking up to the cage that he was inside, I fiddled with the lock as though I knew what I was doing. Vania came through, unlocking it for me.
Angelica and I stepped inside. I sat, cross-legged, on the ground next to the weakened monk. It was a risk; there was always a chance that he was pretending. I was ready for the eventuality, too, and something told me Angelica wouldn’t be entirely useless in a scrap, either. In fact, as I went down, she stayed on her feet, never once losing sight of the man.
“Hello,” I softly greeted him, my voice just above a whisper, but still low. “On a scale between one and ten, how would you characterize your pain?”
The monk showed me only one finger—you know the one.
I chuckled, grabbing him by the wrist. With a violent grip and a powerful twist, I snapped the finger back, breaking the bone, then used a bit more force to tear the appendage off entirely.
The man howled in pain but offered only the limpest resistance to it. I watched the wound carefully.
“Believe it or not,” I started to explain, “that wasn’t done out of spite or cruelty. It was meant to gauge the status of the healing factor I saw you make use of when we fought earlier.”
I stared at the bleeding stump, a bit of white bone and dangling sinewy cartilage still there. The finger did not grow back, at least not yet, but the wound appeared to be closing slowly. I grimaced at the ugliness of the wound I inflicted, then looked up at Angelica to gauge her comfort level with how things were progressing.
Her demonic eyes had dilated, her lips parted, and as I looked at her, her tail wrapped around my bicep as though pleading for something. I raised an eyebrow at the demoness. “You going to be able to handle this?” I asked. She was all shaky, whimpery, moany. My shoulders tensed as I looked up at her needy expression, just as my pants suddenly began to feel oddly burdensome.
“I—I didn’t think this would get me so hot,” she whined with a shudder that ran through her body like fire through gasoline. “Gosh.”
“Gosh?” I repeated back at her, confused. I shook it off, centering my attention back on the monk. “Sorry for the interruption,” I said awkwardly. “I’m going to torture you now, alright?” I turned him over onto his back and stood up, standing between his legs.
The man spat out some bloody mucus and gave me a thumbs-up. “Do as you wish, Van Helsing. I shall never—Ahhhh fucking shit!” His voice got really high for that last part as I planted a football punt right in his groin.
“I figure we don’t need to be too gory about it,” I reasoned, scratching my chin casually. “Not yet, anyway. I was worried you were going to turn out to be a eunuch or something, but judging from your reaction…” I kicked his crotch again, just as hard as the last time. He howled like a baby wolf. “I guess that fear was overblown.”
I crouched back down next to him. He reached out for me—it was a pathetic attempt. He was slow, weak, sluggish—scarcely able to move at all. With a mocking sigh, I grabbed his arm and lifted him up to his feet, forcing him against the bars of Vania’s cubic prison. I summoned the Whip of Laceration, then willed it into its original form—the Rope of Restraint.
“I always thought I’d use this for sexy-time first,” I grunted wistfully. “I really hope this experience doesn’t put me off of the idea.”
I spared a look back at Angelica as the rope magically bound the man to the bars in a lazy T-pose, like he was being crucified. She scowled at that. “He doesn’t deserve to die in that position,” she said disapprovingly.
“Who says we have to kill him?” I asked, winking at her. “Maybe he’ll answer our questions and we can set him free on some comfortable tropical island universe.”
She frowned at me for a moment, clearly hating that suggestion—until my purpose dawned on her. A wry smile appeared on her face, a naughty conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “Right,” she giggled. “Good point.”
I looked back at the man just as he coughed something sticky onto my face. I wiped it off, unfazed. “Portal sickness is definitely no joke,” I commented, taking in the terrible sight of him. “I do happen to know where we can get the antidote if you cooperate.”
“I’d rather die than cooperate,” he growled at me, holding eye contact for only a moment before he averted his gaze. “You should just kill me now.”
“Well apparently that’s off the table while you’re in this Christlike position,” I reminded him, gesturing at his outspread arms. “My friend would be very cross with me, if you catch my drift.”
Angelica scoffed behind me. “Friend, huh?” she said with pointed irritation.
I ignored her for the moment, trying not to ruin my momentum. Apparently, I was really bad at couples interrogation. Already I had a major tone issue with this guy. Did I just make a pun? Okay, time to get serious, I thought. No more silliness.
I placed my hand around his throat and looked at his face. The nasty boils were all still there, the marks of my curse from before. This guy looked like a melting plastic bag of yak shit on a bad day. He didn’t smell loads better. “I’m going to ask you five questions. The more you answer, the happier the end of your day will be.”
He didn’t say anything, instead just staring at me hatefully before looking away. Shame? What was that emotion that compelled him to back off like that?
“Count me off, Angelica,” I said. “Let’s list them first, and he can answer whatever he wants.”
“One!” she belted out, her voice shaky with excitement.
“Where is your order located? All known locations, please.”
“Two!”
“How many members do you have?”
“Three!”
I chuckled. She was really getting into it. “Who are your leaders?”
“Four!”
“How do they convince people to sign up for your insane mission?”
“Five!”
I paused for a long moment, staring down at the quivering mess of a man in front of me, his robes soaked and tattered, his skin full of popping blisters and boils that made him seem on the verge of death. The exhaustion behind those eyes almost made me feel sorry for him. Almost.
But it wasn’t that that made me pause. It was the last question itself. It dangled from the tip of my tongue for a length of time that made the otherwise silent dungeon unbearable to be in. “Tell me about my sister.”
“The Mad Slayer,” he said in an awed hush, looking up at me. “She’s looking for you.”
I showed him no emotion on my face, remaining as stoic as I could. “I know that. What’s her story?”
“I was there,” he whispered before coughing up some blood. “I saw her baptized in the blood of her abusers. Your family’s powers—she took to them naturally. You don’t have a chance against her. She’ll find you.” He looked behind me, spitting at Angelica. “She’ll kill all of your monsters and make you watch.”
“Tell me more,” I calmly commanded him, releasing my hand from his throat. I took a step back and got into punting position. His eyes went enormous and he shook his head.
“Stop,” he cried out. “Please!”
“I could get more creative.” I went back to a normal standing posture. “You know—I’ve read the arguments. Torture isn’t really a way to make prisoners talk—cuz you can lie. Unless, of course, there’s an emotion-reading succubus present,” I mused. I cast a look over at Angelica, who shivered excitedly, her tail lashing as she held a rosary in her palm. “Can you sense if he’s lying?”
She chewed on her lip and nodded. “Maybe,” she said. “I think it’s possible.”
I turned my attention back to the monk. “Tell me something new. Something…actionable.”
The man was frantic, his eyes panicked as Vania’s tentacles emerged from the floor grasping a collection of delicate instruments: knives, scalpels, hammers, nails, tongs. He offered me nothing, though, which wasn’t any sort of surprise. I expected resistance. I may very well come up empty this round—but I could at least have fun, and by the look on Angelica’s face, this was our best date yet.
I shook my head and made a tsk tsk sound with my tongue and teeth. “I suppose this is more for me than you,” I said, grabbing the tongs first. “Have you ever lost a nail? I bet you have. You seem like you’ve been through a lot. I think it’s a good warmup, in any case. See where we go from there.”
“Wait,” the man pleaded. “Wait.”
I cocked my head at him and smirked with a raised brow, listening expectantly for the restrained monk to give me a reason to wait. No reason emerged, though, so, with a heady sigh I grabbed his thumb and guided his nail into the gripping iron tongs.
“Welp,” I said, arm around Angelica as we exited the dungeon together, making our way back to the dining room. “We didn’t learn all that much, but we had a good time.”
“We did learn some things,” she pointed out, her arms wrapped around my waist as we ambled through the corridor. I was savoring this moment—I’d never been embraced so directly, so tightly by her before. “A little about the hierarchy of the order, how many members it has—”
“Five hundred thirty-two,” I muttered, shaking my head. “That’s a lot.”
“It’s doable,” Angelica giggled.
“Do-what-able?” I asked with an elevated eyebrow.
“I think we can kill them all—we just need to find them now.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s the hard part.”
“Is it?” Angelica asked. She looked around, stopping in front of the dining room table. “Vania, can’t you trace him back to where he came from?”
“I am gathering what information I can. If we keep him alive long enough, it may be possible,” the castle said. “I am confident that, at the very least, we can extract more information from his body than from his words.”
“Sounds grim,” I remarked, grinning anyway, of course. For now, there was another thought on my mind. I looked back at the succubus and smirked. “You seemed to get pretty excited back there at the sight of that guy suffering.”
“Seeing you lay into a heretic like that—it made me indecent.” She let out a little whine and hung her head in shame, tightening her thighs together. “I’m sorry for embarrassing myself in front of you, Nathaniel. I hope it doesn’t change the way you see me.”
“It does,” I confessed, “but not in a bad way.”
She smiled weakly up at me and squeezed my hand. “I had a very good time today. I hope we can do this again soon.”
“The torture part too?”
She nodded and licked her lips. “Especially that part. But—I don’t know if I can trust myself around you after that. Maybe we need a chaperone.”
I laughed softly. “I think we have several options, but I’m not sure they’ll be very good at keeping us chaste.”
Chapter twelve
Respite
The flickering flame of the candle perched upon the table illuminated the dining room area, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Today’s dinner: Filet mignon garnished with chopped rosemary, butter, and seasoned with black pepper and a pinch of salt. The smell of the cooked meat made my mouth water and my stomach rumble with anticipation.
What could I say? A little foray into sadism made for one hell of an appetite—not that the deranged doomsday cultist locked away in the dungeons wasn’t deserving of any punishment.
A smile, unbidden, emerged on my face as I thought about the whole situation. I wasn’t sure where I sat with Angelica, but today had been a welcome development, if a bit unexpected. I imagined a relationship with her would entail a degree of shared cruelty once the demure aspects of her personality were stripped bare. It suited me just fine, so long as we could find worthwhile outlets for her.
That thought of Angelica still made me feel somewhat melancholy. Part of me wondered if I was giving her too much pressure. I understood the harem aspect of our relationship was disconcerting to her on some level, even if she seemed to be adapting easily enough. Though we were making definite progress together, I worried for her. I never wanted the beautiful succubus to feel isolated or minimized in any way when it came to our relationship, but there wasn’t much I could do to change the way things were.
Perhaps Vania sensed my gloom. Her voice echoed from a distance. “My love, is the food not to your liking?”
“It’s more than satisfactory,” I replied as I bit dutifully into the meat. My words sounded hollow even to myself. The meals made here were amazing when it came to both their quality and infinite variety. Even so, my sense of taste didn’t resonate as it should have when I felt I was letting one of my girls down.
Vania probably understood this too. I was an open book to her as our spirits were intertwined so closely. Thankfully, she refrained from calling out my comment. The last thing I needed to contend with was her obvious skepticism. All I wanted was her understanding, and I knew she’d offer it.
The room fell silent for a moment before she hummed, her voice much closer to me now. “Well…I suspect the news I bring will lift your spirits somewhat.”
“You’ve found the location of the Order of the Black Phoenix?”
“Nothing that substantial, I fear,” she giggled. “My, my, aren’t you greedy?”
I hummed as I sipped my wine out of the goblet. The luxurious taste of it washed the meat down my throat. Once I’d swallowed, I crossed my ankle over my knee and leaned outward along the edge of the chair. “Do tell.”
“Empowered by your recent growth, I searched my memories for some time and discovered a piece of information that will be beneficial to our quest. It involves Dusky’s portals.”
The chair slid, scraping the marble floor, as I half leapt out of my seat. “What about them?” I asked, suddenly fully alert.
Tentacles emerged from the floor and gently rubbed my arms, guiding me back into a sitting position. My body followed Vania’s gentle guidance as I relaxed my body into the chair, but my excitement remained. Within seconds of my descent, the Bride-Shape of Vania emerged through the floor and caressed my chin with her hands.
“Shhh,” she soothed me. “No need to be so high-strung, my love. We’re merely conversing.”
I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of her finger ghosting along my neck and pressing into my chest. She was right. I was still too preoccupied over Angelica—and now Emmy.
My encounter with my deranged half-sister was the first time in a long time that I felt the proverbial waters going over my head. I had been outclassed. My thoughts were constantly busy with the hope of attaining some kind of advantage over her—something that would remove her as a threat…Something that would allow me to do my job without fear of her hindering me.
Knowing that helpless monster women somewhere out there were being targeted to bring about some fucked up end-of-the-universe scenario did little to stunt my growing anxiety over the situation.
“While the Order of the Black Phoenix is no doubt a threat to us, we still have an abundance of time to come up with a plan. Our guest downstairs isn’t as tightlipped as I thought he’d be, either.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Most people aren’t when you drive a wedge underneath their toenails.”
“Or pop their eye out of its socket, dangling like a piece of loose string from a shirt sleeve. That was rather naughty of you, my love.”
“All the more incentive for him to speak when our shadow darkens the door to his cell for the next house call.”
Vania chuckled. “I can’t deny the merit in that.”
It was difficult gazing into the busty visage standing above me, looking down longingly at me, without acting on my desires. I wanted information, but I also wanted her just as much. Resisting the urge to kiss her wasn’t an easy endeavor. Neither one of us would have wanted our relationship to be any other way.
