<nametag:rook>
A thing on the slab in the lab. That is what I said the River City stories were and thus subject to whimsical changes and here’s one already. I have decided to change one of the character’s names from: Sarah Emily Welles to Bethany Jane Daily. I love the name Sarah Emily Welles sounds so posh, so tomb raider, so resident evil, so…’ I could marry that woman in a heartbeat!’ thus so Jane Austin. But what it doesn’t sound much like is very comic book porn-y. So out it goes and on we go. Rook.
The Broken Clock
Bethany Jane Daily, BJ to both her friends and startled strangers alike, stood in the murky corridor frowning through her dust specked cat eye rimmed glasses at what appeared to be a large grandfather clock. “I don’t get it? It’s just some dumb clock.” It appeared not to be working. “And it doesn’t work.” She reached out a thin slim wristed long fingered hand and lightly touched the side of the clocks glass front. It was thickly layered with dust as were most of the items in the hallway.
She removed her glasses and cleaned them on her shirt which wasn’t easy as she wasn’t wearing much of a shirt at all. It was a skintight fitting sleeveless tank top that fell well short of covering her belly. Bethany liked leaving as much of her pale alabaster skin exposed as possible and she liked leaving her belly uncovered as she had a long soft narrow waist with a slight rise of her abdomen that made men’s tongues hang out of their mouths. That is when or if they could take their bulging eyes off her full round jutting double KK cup rack or her full pert round bubble butt bottom to notice it. Both of which now were popping out bountiful cleavage.
This was second time she had been to the Marauder house. She replaced the glasses on her small nose blinking her large ice blue eyes and flipped her shoulder length coal black hair out of her face as she bent at the waist to retrieve her book bag where she had dropped it at her feet on the thread bare carpet runner that ran along the creaky hard wood floor. This caused her low rise jeans to toothpaste squeeze a little more of her almost spherical cue ball white ass out and when she stood up again with bag in hand the narrow waist band sunk deep into the double round firmness and stuck there leaving almost two -thirds of her petulant proud bottom on display.
Bethany unzipped the book bag and began digging through it. Sucking on her pillow lips until she found and retrieved her electronic pad and jabbed its touch screen to life; a few swipes and presses and she was smiling. “Ah here it is.” She brooded for a bit glancing from her screen to the clock in front of her back and forth as if in mockery of the large still pendulum. “Someone has now sent me two emails both with pictures of this clock and this address but no other message. How strange a joke this is when one can’t even fathom the punch line. I should just ignore it completely but it was sent to my new Sensational Babe Gmail account. And um, it’s the only two messages I have got since setting up the email account two months ago. Still…so strange; why send me the same email twice now of some stupid clock?”
Bethany tapped her chin and frowned wrinkling up her beautiful young face. “Hold on a second. There’s something different here. Yes! The clock face is not the same. It’s a different design. I wonder if there is a second grandfather clock I have overlooked during my previous visit when I searched this house? I shall search it again!” and with that she replaced her electronic notepad back into her book bag and shrugged the book bag over her left should as she turned and retrieved her flash light from where she had set it upon a small drawer table behind her to light up the clock as she had minute searched it for hidden compartments earlier. With flash light in her right hand she began to shuffle down the narrow hallway and make her way to the staircase. “I have already gone through all the lower rooms looking for traps and ambushes and again saw no other grandfather clock than this one so I shall proceed straight up to the second floor and search that again.” She had thoroughly searched the house from top to bottom the last time she had been here two weeks earlier but now that their seemed a notable discrepancy between the email photo of the clock and the one she had been studying she reasoned there must be a second clock she had somehow overlooked during her first search.
The Marauder house was infamous enough to be shunned by most people in River City which considering River City was the crime capital of North America was truly saying a lot. Before the city had fallen into its current state of ruin the Marauder house had sat in the middle of a suburban block the large twinkling jewel of gothic architecture rising high above its surrounding abodes with an almost noble prowl of dignity and delicate gardens wreathed in high iron fences. No one seemed to know much about the Marauder family only that they were very wealthy. And then they were dead. Murdered. Hacked to death by a bloody axe left embedded after the horrible deed in the large oak tree sat in the front yard where the path way from the gate to the house diverted around both sides of it creating a lovely little seated bench and blocking much of the view of the front of the house from the street and thus much of the view of the street from the front doorway of the house. It was the bloody axe deeply set into the trunk of this tree that drew passerby’s morbid curiosity. A curiosity that eventually found the slain family of six inside and the three servants scattered about the gardens.
The city and nation were shocked. The Marauder house became known as the Murder house and remained abandoned for decades. No one was ever charged in the crime and no known relatives ever showed up to lay a claim on the house or the family’s estate. A second event which came after the city’s increasing slide into decay sort of sealed the houses current abhorred and quickly walked past existence. A man was found babbling and out of his mind in terror by the police, who after questioning him the best they could, went to the Marauder house where they found a large meth lab and a dozen hacked to pieces bodies lying strewn about. When daylight came they found the murder weapon, a bloody axe embedded in the great now nearly dead oak tree in the front yard, which had apparently been overlooked somehow during the night’s investigations. The axe seemed identical to the one from the first crime and when police searched the evidence lockers for this first axe to compare them, they could not find the first axe murder weapon anywhere. Again no one was charged with the murders and when years later the warehouse storage locker used by the police was to be moved to less decayed buildings the axe from the second murders was also to be found missing. No one went near the place. Even gangs stopped using it for initiation rights when several people sent in simply disappeared never to be seen again.
Bethany walked through the narrow and cramped hallways and rooms. The place had a dusty catacomb like coldness to it and the creaking of her combat boots on the hallway runners made odd flat echoes in the forbidding dark that rimmed her small flashlight beam. “I don’t see how I could have missed something as large as a floor to ceiling grandfather clock in any of these other rooms during my last visit. But then again once I had found the grandfather clock downstairs I really wasn’t looking for another one; just making sure no one was setting me up for an ambush or trying to trick me into revealing my identity by sending me the email and then waiting to see who showed up.”
Bethany had made both her visits to the house dressed as Bethany Jane Daily lugging along her Sensational Babe costume in her book bag just in case things seemed to require that professional super heroine touch. She thought it made more sense to walk the streets in her civilian wear at three am rather than in her super heroine guise and since she always had to change in a public place as she very well couldn’t pop out her apartment front door as Sensational Babe it just seemed to make more sense for her to change INSIDE the Marauder house than behind some garbage bin next to a convenience store. ‘As long as she slipped in the back way from the unlit alley and through the overgrown gardens she could approach and even enter the house with very little chance of detection,’ she had reasoned. And on her first trip she had met nothing to convince her not to make the same approach this second time.
‘This place is definitely creepy,’ she thought to herself as she rubbed at the chill running up and down her arm. ‘Still after taking street gangs armed with bazookas and slimy sewer beasts an empty old musty house full of cobwebs and weird flickering shadows isn’t so bad. I just wonder what this is all about? Who is sending me these emails and why?’ She was used to getting emails from her Sensational Babe Facebook web page they mostly consisted of boys asking for privet photographs of her which she would of course comply with but several of those requests required her to down almost an entire bottle of aftershock first but hey the money was good and you had to keep the fans happy. This new email address was different it didn’t link to her Sensational Babe webpage but instead linked out of the police web page. You had to be looking for some serious help before you would find her link sitting there alongside the government links. She had to keep the police web master smiling in order to keep that link up and the perv was really into anal. She rubbed her ass and winced, noticing for the first time that nearly all of her buttocks where hanging out. She stopped for a moment in her search and placed her flash light in her mouth and grabbed her jeans waist with fingers and thumbs and began to tug and shimmy struggling with pulling her pants back up so only the top third of her marble ass was on display. She pulled the flashlight barrel out of her mouth with a loud sucking schlurping noise and a long string of dangling saliva and frowned. During her struggle with her obstinate britches the dancing circle of light in her mouth had been centered on a clock on the mantle of a fire place before her. It was one of the larger rooms of the third floor which was mostly low ceiling cramped smaller rooms. She approached the clock and studied its face. A retrieval of her notepad from her shouldered book bag left no doubt; the clock face was identical to the one on the grandfather clock.
Bethany peered and prodded over the mantel clock noticing that it too did not work despite winding it up and playing with its hands. She was considering removing the swoop wooden piece from the fire place mantel where it sat when much to her surprise the clock face came off in her hand. The clock face seemed to have all the guts; the gears and springs and such; all attached to it and it was very heavy and awkward in her hand almost causing her to drop it. When she had got the balance right between book bag and flash light and clock face she pondered, ‘I wonder if this is the clock face that is supposed to be in the grandfather clock? It seems about the same size in diameter and neither clock would function no matter how I wound them or tried to start them up. I shall try it!’ And with sharp nod Bethany left the third floor and headed back down to the ground floor where the broken grandfather clock waited.
It took a bit more effort to remove the face of the grandfather clock but it too came out displaying again a heavy complexity of gears and switches and springs attached to the back of the face plate. This was odd as there should have been no such things for a pendulum clock such as this just as it had been odd that the upstairs mantel clock had not been attached to the winding keys on the back of the mechanism.
What’s more when she went to place the upstairs clock face into the grandfather clock she found that the inside of the clock housing was utterly full of more gears and complex springs and odd gadgets. It took some time to figure out how to align the projecting guts of the clock face with the receiving guts of the clock housing. She found she could move the guts of the clock face by simply moving the hands on the clock face. This seemed to not only turn the gears behind the clock face but oddly caused large parts of it to change its complex mesh and form. Eventually she got the clock face to set with a loud snapping click into the housing and much to her surprise the grandfather clock came instantly to life!
Bethany watched in growing wonder as the large clock began to whirl and hum and then moan and groan with an almost human pitch to it. Then the hands began to move very, very slowly. “It appears unable to keep time,” she mused to herself as she watched both the second hand, minute hand, and hour hand all move at the same exact slow pace. An odd high pitch pinging began to sound, Bethany looked around her realizing it was not coming from the organically sounding clock and then realized suddenly it was coming from her book bag. She opened up her notepad and saw another new email had just appeared on her police link site Gmail address. It showed the same exact photo of the grandfather clock with the Marauder house address above it but now there was a text message underneath the photograph. It read; ‘AH YOU FIXED IT.” again there was no return email to respond to. She pursed her sexy lips at the message and was about to close the notepad when she was startled by the sudden erupting of the grandfather clocks striking chimes. She had scarcely recovered from her startled state when her notepad ‘pinged’ with another email message. Again the no reply address, again the same physical address of the Marauder house above the same photo of the grandfather clock but now with a new text message under it. It read. ‘RUN.’
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Bethany did not have to wonder long about the odd command as suddenly the hallway around her was filled with a cold fog erupting out of the seams of the grandfather clock as well as appearing to form from the very incorporeal air. And in that fog was suddenly a hulking twisted shape, also seeming to form right before her eyes just an arm reach away. The fog was defying her flash light and she made a mad scramble out of the hallway and up the staircase which was the nearest retreat. Halfway up the stairs she paused leaning over the wobbly banister and peered again down at the clock directly below her which now seemed to glow with an odd bluish light even as an orange hiss of super-heated parts leaked out from its fittings. It was the solidifying shape she was most interested in and she darted her eyes this way and that trying to make it out in the ever thickening soup of white mist that was choking the hallway into blindness.
The figure was large with a flat head on a barrel chest and its heavy brow shadowed menacing infuriated eyes that stared fixed and unblinking upon her. It seemed unable to move, but then very, very slowly a large hand attacked to a large arm raised up and in its hand was a heavy and very crude- and in that instant Bethany remembered the one strange detail from all the horror stories told about the Marauder house that struck everyone as odder than all the rests; that the bloody axe had been made of stone! The thing raised its stone axe and began to growl. Bethany ran.
She was racing up the stairs and vaulting the third story landing when she began to hear its slow but increasing in speed and gait loud tread echoing up the stair well. She also heard her notepad ping. She continued to scramble down hallways and through connecting rooms until she found a window she had forced open earlier in her search as she liked to have a ready escape route on each floor and she slipped through it before closing it and gingerly slipped down the rotted cedar shingles coming to a rest at the lip of the roof edge. Here she caught her breath eyed the closed window a few feet away from her and the ground three stories below her and took out her notepad and pressed on the new email waiting her from her police link site.
It was identical to the previous ones except for the text under the photo which now read; ‘GARDEN. BACK OF HOUSE. FOUTAIN. HURRY.’ She looked at the message still panting and then scrambled back up to the peak of the house. The house was a sprawling structure and the roof line was cut by dozens of crowns and valleys. It would not be too difficult to travers the roof to reach the back of the house but she had a feeling she was about to meet face to face with her email buddy soon and that was a good enough reason to say goodbye to Bethany Jane Daily and hello to Sensational Babe.
She found a good spot where she could change without risking too much of her neck in a sudden slip and tumble down the sharp pitch. It was an overcast night but clear, the fog seemed to be remaining in the house its self for now and there was no sign of her brutish pursuer. The thing had seemed more animal than man but it had an overall humanoid appearance. Sooner or later it would find her and she doubted it had anything on its daily planer right now more pressing than finding her and chopping her up into ground hamburger with that stone axe it was wielding.
She used her flash light sparingly in case its strong beam should bring the creature suddenly to her and in fact left her notepad on so its glowing screen would light her as she rummaged in the bag for her super heroine outfit while darting fugitive eyes for a hoped for new email message. No new message appeared and she stripped naked quickly finding her refusal to wear undergarments of any sort once again paying off dividends as she shed her civilian attire and wiggled into her scanty costume in mere minutes.
She was a little hesitant in taking off her glasses and tucking them away as it left a little near sighted without them but she squished her eye mask into place with its fresh adhesive strips and hopped she could save up enough for a pair of contacts someday if she didn’t end up cut up into bloody bits first.
Once again Sensational Babe found herself a little nervous as she stuffed the last of her civilian gear into her bag and shouldered it. Her powers were somewhat limited after all. She could not fly, did not have any great amount of enhanced strength, was not really overtly agile and in fact her huge breasts had a tendency to spin her off balance when she got TOO Olympic hopeful. She did have amazing recuperative powers being able to heal cuts almost instantly and even major wounds within minutes but that didn’t really help if someone was chopping off your limbs with a stone axe blade the business dealing head the size of TV tray. In fact the only way she had successfully subdued the criminals she had encountered thus far was that when they inevitably captured her and raped her, she would simply out fuck them! Her body and mind were sexually insatiable and she had an Aphrodite gene genetically enhanced snapper pussy that could cause any male to orgasm so intensely that it rendered him unconscious almost coma like for several hours! Even repeat offenders could not resist slamming their meat pipes in her super sucker puss on repeated occasions even though they knew they would climax and instantly pass out only to wake up in the jailhouse needing to pay the local corrupt police their ‘fine’ to be released. Her pussy was such an incredible snapper fuck that it was literally addictive. This coupled with her extremely powerful Aphrodite sex pheromones which she constantly issued made everyone in her prolonged presence soon become overcome by their lusts and incapable of rational thought or action. In fact prolonged exposure to her sex pheromones had an almost hypnotic quality letting her gather information that would have been impossible otherwise. However the timing of asking the questions was tricky. Too soon and the man might still have sufficient willpower to refuse, too late and he might climax and pass out with his cock twitching and splooging in her pussy.
No the teen girl did not really have to worry about being shot, or knifed, or tied up and tossed into the river, as long as she could get within a few feet of her adversary. Her pheromones and then her pussy would take care of the rest. This made her a rather surprisingly successful super heroine which was a rarity in the crime riddled River City, but it also made her a bit apprehensive when going up against anything that simply did not want to get into the mood. And that thing with the axe the size of a large snarling dog did not look like it was the romantic type.
Sensational Babe moved carefully across the expanse of rotting roof until she had weaved her way through the many peaks and valleys to the back of the house. She had searched these gardens quickly but thoroughly when she had been her both times now. Looking for a trap or an ambush or spies watching and waiting for her; so she knew where the large fountain was located, that the recent email had alluded to, despite the grounds being rather expansive and heavily overgrown. Getting down from the third story roof to the paving stones so very far below was another mater though and she spent several precious minutes searching for the best means down.
Sensational Babe made it down to the garden without incident; well if by ‘without incident’ one discounted her slipping off the drain pipe and falling the last ten feet and smacking her ass hard. After getting back up on her slippery stiletto heeled feet and giving her nearly naked ass several tentative rubs to the smarting bruise that was already fading, she made her way as silently as possible for a teenager in leather hip boots sneaking on overgrown crunchy gravel paths could make her way in what was proving to be almost pitch darkness under the swaying bushes and trees. The fountain was a large square structure cracked and broken in several places its large deep raised basin dry and clotted with dead leaves. There was no one around it or in it or approaching it as far as she could tell and she blew her raven wing bangs out of her storm surge gray/blue eyes with a frustrated puff. She moved around to the back side of the fountain to put its gray stone bulk between her and the inky maws of windows of the back of the house. The fountain was on a slight hillock in the garden, raised up just off set from its center and she could see that the back door which had been shut was now wide open and she cringed at that not liking that she had traversed the white gravel path with what would have been the dark silhouette of her body for several hundred yards.
The idea of some monstrous shape stalking her in the night shadows was not being very conducive to her nerves and she was eyeing possible routes including the quickest to the spot where she had scaled the back iron bared wall. When she realized she was crouched next to some kind of stone abutment to the fountain. A kind of box half sunken into the ground. She reasoned that it must contain the plumbing to operate the fountain, perhaps and on and off switch. The lid was half slid off and she was puzzled at the cold air and slight white vapor that was issuing out of the crack. She decided to see if she could slide the lid further open and found that it yielded ready enough.
To her utter astonishment the open access box revealed not plumbing or switches but an open drop straight down several feet which readily vanished in both darkness and a white swirl of recognizable fog. She pulled her flashlight out her book bag and reaching her arm down into the opening and trying to block any escaping light with her enormous breasts she flicked on the light and used her remaining free hand to part her cleavage so that she might look down into the hole. The fog was thick and she could not judge any distance but just as she was about to pull her face away from being pushed into her own boobs to take another look around her for anything big and hairy and mean; she found her attention caught by the sudden appearance of a man in a suit who simply walked into her light beam blinking up at her. He was about fifteen feet below her and he smiled as he spoke.
“Ah, there you are. Been looking for that way out for what seems eons now. Pitch dark you know. Think you can give me a hand? We had better hurry that fellow knows where we are now.”
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The thing did indeed. No sooner had Sensational Babe made a rope out of her civilian clothes and pulled the thin weak man up through the hole than they both heard the snarling brute come crashing down the inky dark paths axe swinging wildly.
“Keep it busy!” The thin man had shouted and he took off running.
“Yeah, right?!” Sensational Babe howled after him as she limbo-ed under the things first closing sideways cleave.
“I have to get to the clock and dismantle it!” He shouted over his shoulder as she staggered wheezing up the crunching gravel path.
The shaggy hill of night shrouded muscle grunted and turned its neck-less head on its broad shoulders and looked after the staggering fleeing man and sniffed the air.
“You know that almost makes sense,” Sensational Babe muttered under her breath, “but this sure don’t!” And with that she launched a wicked round house kick into the things body. It hit arm mostly and it felt like she was kicking a mail box, that is one of those house mounted mail boxes, and the house was made of brick, and the bricks were made out of titanium alloy forged in Vulcans smithy and imbued with god like strength. She grunted from the impact and winced. But the thing turned its attention from the man still scrambling for the house and fastened its narrowed almost red glowing eyes upon her. “Ah, nice boy, Hee-hee.” She went top side on the next swing rolling over its telephone pole like arm and coming down on all fours with a grunt as it twisted its waist and brought down the axe in a downward hack that she back flipped out of. The axe shattered the base lip of the fountain sending a shower of sharp shards that caused the beast to growl as it threw up its free arm to protect its eyes.
“I need a plan here. Really need a plan,” Sensational Babe wheezed and then spun around and ran. The creature gave a low howl and began racing after her racing on feet and knuckles of its unencumbered hand as the other rested the axe on its shoulder. She ran through the over grown pathways sliding and dodging the beast who often simply bulled through hedges and brush she had been forced to race around. This way and that. Crisscrossing back and forth steadily losing her breath and stamina. “This-this isn’t really a plan and why can I take on twenty guys in a gangbang and not even break a sweat but I can’t walk up the six flights to my apartment with four bags of groceries without stopping to catch my breath?” The thing exploded from the brush before her and she exhaustedly skidded up to it. “Not fair, you cheated.” It swung wildly just missing her chest as she twisted and leaned backwards swearing the back of her head had almost touched her heels. “Hey watch the tits, prince charming!” She uncoiled and launched another kick to the back of its extended knee and grinned to see it collapse to its other knee as the supporting leg gave way. “Doesn’t matter how big and tough you are you still got to walk. Eh, charming?” The thing snarled and shot out its own kick catching her full in the face and sending her flying backwards head-over-heels until she landed with a thud on her face twenty feet away.
“Ohhhh-kay, charming this is where you decide how utterly irresistible I am and show me what makes your mommy so proud. Enough with the foreplay already. Let’s see that dork!” Sensational Babe staggered to her feet and spit blood grabbing her ribs hopping they would heal before the thing finished its roaring charge through the brush between her and it where its blow had sent her tumbling over and out of its sight. “Need a plan. Need a plan.” The thing came through the last clump of hedges like a bulldozer on nitrous and didn’t pause as it slammed toward her in a blood howling furry. “Okay fuck the plan,” she pivoted on her heel like a bullfighter and grabbed at the arm just missing her. But the creature merely shook its arm and she was once again flung through the air landing hard against the base of the fountain several yards away. “Ugh, no,” she shook and rubbed her bleeding head, “most definitely need a plan” and then she had one.
The plan required timing and precision and guts but she got by on luck. The creature charged her and she dodged and danced around avoiding its axe blows forcing it to circle even as she circled it. It was on the fourth time that she maneuvered it into place that it finally stepped its tree trunk sized foot into the open hole. The half sunken stone box shattered and the thing sunk instantly up to tis thigh. Trapped. It screamed and flailed and tugged but it was painfully caught in the splits with its free leg twisted under the collapse of its own ponderous weight at a sickening angle. It had dropped its axe and she made sure to drag that out of its reach as it continued to confusedly lurch this way and that trying desperately to pull its trapped leg out of the hole.
Then as she watched the thing turned into a milky swirl of shadow and then fog and then mist and then vapor and it was gone.
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“Okay, now tell me what just happened and don’t leave out any of the good juicy parts.” Sensational Babe stood at the shattered fountain with her arms crossed her flashlight lying on her book bag; its beam pointed at the tired looking wane pinched faced man who sat at its crumbling edge bent forward with his elbows on his knees. His suit was in tatters and he looked old and worn almost a haggard as he did which she had not time to notice before.
“Very well. I owe you my life and you risked yours in saving me so you deserve an explanation. But where to begin? My name is Howard Masterson. I am an inventor. In 1886 I invented a time machine. That clock you saw in that house there. I made several journeys with it until I made the mistake of being discovered by a family called Darrow. Slave traders and merchants they owned several ships and soon discovered that they could use my device to travel in time stealing the great treasures of antiquity. They raided most of the Egyptian tombs before I realized what they were doing and tried to stop them by any means necessary. I failed and they managed to trap me in my own time machine. They changed their name to Marauder, fitting considering how the family now made its wealth, and for generations they kept going back in time and raiding the past of its gold and jewels. Never once did they seek knowledge or try and do a single kind deed for humanity. Only the most trivial and immediate gratifying petty thefts did they seek out and exploit. It was only a matter of time before they tripped themselves up.”
“That creature? That’s what killed the Marauder family?” Sensational Babe unfolded her arms and pointed back at the house.
“Yes, a Neanderthal but not of the weaker ones we now know of by archeology. These murderous brutes where the dominant species and lived in the choicest part of the earth. But then there was a cataclysm and the great mountain damn of Gibraltar shattered and broke and that lush Eden where the savage brutes lived and dwelled became the Mediterranean Ocean in less than a month. They all drowned and the lesser species that had lived on the rim of the lands of plenty rose up in their wake and became our ancestors.”
“But how did it get here?”
The Marauder family wasn’t exactly endowed with smarts. After I became trapped in the machine they had to sort of guess at the controls. Somehow one of the succeeding generations got a setting a smidge off and instead of transporting them to a rich tomb they found they had transported one of the Neanderthals into their house. I think they somehow managed to trap it at first. There was a secondary conduit coordinate to the pit under the fountain where they kept their treasure hidden. I think they sent it there and removed the face plate so as to close the portal. But of course they needed money and they needed to replace the face plate to try again and that instantly opened up the portal again. I don’t think they had a clue what they were messing around with. They yanked the faceplate out again and hid it as they always did when they weren’t going treasure hunting. But something was wrong. This time the creature got out of the empty treasure room. Starved down there in the barren tomb for several days. It somehow found its way back up into the house and massacred the family. I had put a safety device in the time machine so as to automatically send anything transported through it back to its own time after a few days unless the override was set. Shortly after killing the family it disappeared back to its own time.”
“Did it somehow kill those men decades later? The one’s running the meth lab?”
“Yes, I am afraid I am to blame for that. I found that I could access some of the local electronic media of this age even as I remained incorporeal inside the machine its self. I contacted them through their cellphones and directed them to repair the machine. One of them was kind enough to take a picture of it so I could see the machine in its current state. The photo I sent you was of that picture, only I imposed the way it was supposed to look with the proper face plate. They found the face plate but it was still locked upon the same time coordinates and the same cave man creature. He appeared and began slaughtering them all. Only one remained and he was terrified and hid in the house. He removed and replaced the face plates as they were trying to send the monster back and then he fled. The next time I tried to contact someone I made more of an effort to find a person who I thought could deal with the creature. You see when those men replaced the clock face they managed to have got enough of the settings corrected so as to materialize me in the treasure room/pit under the fountain. But as soon as the man removed the clock face I was sent back inside the machine. I knew if I could just find the right ‘hero’ and convince them to help me escape the pit then I could dismantle the machine and remain here ending this horrible nightmare once and for all. And thanks to you that is exactly what has been done.”
“So let me get this straight?” Sensational Babe tapped her chin. “The bad guys are all beaten, the monster is defeated, the machine is all kaput, and once again I have saved the day?!” The man nodded at the beaming girl. “Great! Now who wants blowjobs?!” The man startled and then cleared his throat looking around him before timidly raising his hand. “Awesome!” And Sensational Babe shot up two thumbs up before dropping to her knees and savagely ripping the man’s pants down nearly dragging him to the ground in the process. As the sun rose parting the early morning mist it stirred the song birds from their nests and their delightful chorus mingled with the loud slurping sounds and ghostly moans issuing from the back gardens of Marauder House.
Awesome indeed! Check back next time for another exciting adventure of River Cities own teen heroine Sensational Babe!