Warchildren Scene 6

Wyndreth drank from the tankard of ale in his left hand and molested the tavern wench with his other. She was a poxy wench but Wyndreth was beyond caring at this point. The wench was buxom, bouncy and very willing. He drank deep from the tankard and slapped it down on the table. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and picked up the dice and placed them in the dice cup. He began to shake the cup as he leaned over and kissed the chubby wench sitting on his knee.

        “For luck.” he said as he licked the tip of her nose. The drunken wench tried to giggle in an enticingly girlish manner but only succeeded in making a croaking cackle. “Fives!” he said as he tipped over the dice cup and slammed it on the table.

        “Again!!” roared Arn, “How many times can you roll fives!!!”

        “Well lets take a look,” he said as he lifted the cup from the table. Sure enough three dice lay there with five pips showing on each one. “Hah!! told you. I am on a roll tonight Arn.”

        “Good thing this is all Magnus's money then.” the dwarf chuckled as he picked up the dice and placed them in the cup. He then placed another silver piece on the table between them.

        Arn began shaking the cup and then stopped and blew foul breath that reeked of Hero's Stout into the cup and onto the dice inside. He smiled and said “Twins!!!” as he slammed the cup down onto the table. He eagerly lifted the cup and was met with a one, a three and a six.

        “Damn these bones to the nine hells. Hero was right these dice are cursed. I haven't won a single toss all night,” he groaned as the cup passed to the next person at the table.

        An old dwarf named Aron picked up the dice and began shaking them in the leather dice cup.

        Wyndreth wasn't paying attention to the game any more. The poxy tavern wench was grabbing his hand and trying to pull him away and up the stairs. He grabbed his coins off the table and allowed her to lead him to the second floor. Where the private rooms were located.

        The trollop lead him away through the bawdy joviality of the Blue Bottle's common room. His friends noticed them walking up the stairs and shouted crude references toward him, laughing and slapping each other on the shoulders.

        She located an empty room and pulled Wyndreth inside. They began kissing and undressing in a hurried rush. The clothes fell off their bodies and they fell together into the darkness of the unlit room. The straw mattress was not the most comfortable and smelled vaguely of old vomit but it would serve tonight. They pressed together in the darkness and moved toward their mutual lust. At the height of the act just as Wyndreth was coming to climax the wench began to change beneath him. The wench became noticeably slimmer and more muscular right before his eyes. Her skin began to pale toward a light gray and her eyes milked over to a sickly white.

        Wyndreth climaxed as horror and fear fell over him like a death shroud. Steel flashed in the dim light and he found it impossible to breathe for some reason. The blade came away red with blood and the gray woman beneath him began to moan loudly and the last thing he felt was her shudder beneath him. The last thing he heard before the Underworld claimed his soul was the her scream in ecstasy.

        The gray woman lay there for awhile awash in the man's blood and let the orgasm flood over her. A fresh kill always sent her over the edge into the fevered passion of the god of lust.    She lay there for a long time. She felt his blood spill over her skin. So hot. So sticky. It flowed over her body and she could feel the last beat of his heart against her chest and the blood finally stopped pouring from the fatal wound.

        A shadow moved from against the wall and a cloaked form approached the bed. The newcomer reached up and pulled the hood of the cloak back and revealed a beautiful female face framed by the horns of a ram. Her skin was a pale reddish brown and her eyes were the burning embers of a funeral pyre. She smiled and pulled the cloak off and let it drop to the floor. She wore a black leather jerkin, matching leggings and knee high leather riding boots with a tall heel.

        The gray woman began to change again. The shoulders widened and the hips narrowed. The skin took on a more natural tone and the bones of the face became more linear and rugged. They were in fact identical to the features of the slowly cooling corpse of the man next to her. The corpse's twin rose from the bed and kissed the woman with the otherworldly and infernal features. His body was naked and he began undressing the leather clad woman as they kissed . They lay down on the bloody mattress and began to pleasure one another. They made love for hours next to their victim until the doppelganger climaxed inside the infernal woman.

        They rose early the next morning and the doppelganger dressed in the clothing and possessions of the dead man. The infernal woman dragged the corpse of Wyndreth into the center of the room. She rose her hands and uttered dark words into the cool air of the early morning. The bloody mattress and walls of the room were suddenly clean and looked just like they were before the murder. The horned woman kissed the living version of Wyndreth and uttered more dark words through smokey, wet lips. She and the corpse disappeared with a slight pop.

        Wyndreth blew a kiss at the empty space where the horned woman stood. He turned toward the door, stepped out into the hallway and walked downstairs to the common room for breakfast.

        I hope they have bacon this morning, she thought.