Chapter 4
They moved toward the exit, Flin leading, Marcus just behind. The air was thick with smoke and stank of drink, sweat and vomit. As they reached the door a short, portly man with very little hair left on his head stepped out, blocking their way.
"A good evening to you fine gentlemen," he greeted them warmly.
"And to you," replied Flin. "You are blocking our passage."
Unperturbed by the strangely clean looking man's abruptness, the doorman continued on.
"And did young Melissa perform to your... satisfaction?" He gave a lewd grin.
"She performed her assigned tasks within a valid performance paradigm."
"Errr, good." He looked at the other stranger, who was standing behind the first and looking back into the bar. They appeared to be brothers. "Well, now that you're satisfied, there is just the matter of the room and laundry fee to take care off."
"This costing was not specified in the original contract. It is therefore invalid."
"Now good sir, let us not quibble over the fine points. Instead it would be best if you and your brother would honor your debts and depart without any," several large figures stepped out from the shadows and menaced the two men, "unpleasant experiences." The doorman smiled a cold smile.
"I note your inference," said Flin, "allow me to confer with my colleague."
The doorman nodded and glanced at the bouncers, smiling in satisfaction. It always paid to fleece the out of town businessmen out of a bit extra - they didn't want to have to return to their wives and explain a black eye or two!
"This clearly exceeds our contractual obligations with this establishment," Flin whispered to Marcus, who nodded ascent while still gazing into the smoky interior of the bar.
"Clearly. Furthermore, I believe the natives will attempt to forcibly extract finances from us should we refuse."
"I concur. But we have insufficient fiscal resources to cover such an unbudgeted costing."
"True. That and the illegality of the request leads me to propose that we immediately depart this establishment, engaging in violence processing if required to force an egress.
"Agreed."
Both Flin and Marcus now faced the doorman.
"Your terms are unacceptable," said Flin. "You will stand aside and facilitate our egress."
"I don't think so. Boys!" The doorman made a nodding motion to the bouncers on either side.
Obediently one of the barrel-chested thugs stepped forward, raising his billy club and bringing it down towards Marcus' head. Marcus blocked the blow with his forearm, bones cracking. The bouncer, feeling those bones smash under his blow, smiled at Marcus. The smile faded when he saw that his supposed victim's face was as expressionless as before.
Marcus grasped the bouncer around the throat with a lightening movement and smashed his forehead into the thug's face - his attacker's nose exploded, sending splinters of bone into the bouncer's living brain. The bouncer was dead before his corpse hit the ground.
There was a moment when time seemed to stand still, as all eyes gazed upon the two hundred pounds of meat that lay on the floor. There was an unreality to the scene. The minds of all the humans who had witnessed the event collectively tried to wish it away, to make it as though it had never happened. But the scene would not restore itself.
Reality, of a sort, returned as Flin drove his fingers into the doorman eyes, ripping the eyeballs from their skull. The doorman began to emit a thin, high-pitched wail as his hands scrabbled at his bleeding, eyeless sockets.
A cry sounded from the bar behind them, as one of the patrons recognized what was happening. Panic spread through the crowd like a virulent, infectious disease. Chaos descended as a nightmarish scene of people screaming, yelling and fleeing unfolded. Some people cried out for mercy, others for an understanding of what was happening, people tripped and fell to be crushed under the panic stricken stampede - any trace of higher brain functions gone from the mob now as each individually sought to preserve their self at any cost.
Amidst this insanity stalked the expressionless figures of Flin and Marcus - killing, and killing.
And killing.
Azrael judged her ready. Her sodden pussy needed no further stimulation and he couldn't contain himself much longer - his member ached for her. She had many skills to learn he thought and oral was going to be at the top of the list. Once she is broken in. He reduced his stimulation of her, and she looked at him groggily.
"Do you accept this?" he asked holding up the collar. It was made of soft leather, about an inch wide and didn't seem terribly special or pretty to her.
"W-what?" Elizabeth's mind was dull with alcohol and pleasure.
"Do you accept this?"
"Ummm, why yes, if you think I should."
"Then put it on," he hissed savagely, "around your neck.
She shifted position to free her hands and reached for the collar. Taking it from him she brought the leather band to her throat. He stared at her - frozen. The collar went around her neck - she started at the feel of it against her flesh, it seemed almost unnaturally cold. She fastened the buckle at the back. There seemed to be only one hole for the buckle, so she had no choice as to how tightly to secure it. The collar fit was not too bad, it just seemed to be slightly more constricting that she would have liked - it made it impossible not to be aware of it.
Azrael gazed down upon her, almost a look of triumph upon him. Elizabeth flopped her hands above her head and writhed in ecstasy as new and strange sensations began to flow through her body.
"I feel funny," she murmured.
"It's the Bourbon, child," he ran his hands down her body, "it's strong stuff."
"I am not a child."
"Yes, you are. But soon you will be a woman. And after that a whore of darkness."
She smiled again and giggled.
"Oh, you do say the strangest things, my love."
Her playful laughter was cut short as his powerful hands flipped her over onto her stomach. He sat between her legs and kneaded her ass cheeks. The sensations flowing into her body now made it hard to think, she was awash with primal impulses.
"Will...?"
His hands hoisted her hips into the air and set her upon her knees. He slid those powerful hands down her body and cupped her breasts, then lifted her up onto her hands.
"Will?" she gasped, long blonde hair streaming over her face.
"It is important you stay in this position, on all fours. You will obey me."
"Y-yes, Master," she panted. Elizabeth had no idea where that had come from and did not care. A rush of erotic sensation filled her - from where she did not no. One last coherent thought flashed through her mind before it became an utter void filled only with the sensations of pleasure and pleasure/pain. She lent down and scooped a pillow into her mouth - gagging herself.
She felt his hips against her buttocks now, and the sensation of his erect member pushing up against her stomach. He spoke in a language Elizabeth did not understand. She also did not see the runes on the leather collar glow dully in the darkness. The sensation of the slick tip of his powerful tool sliding back along her stomach toward her dripping slit was the only thing she was aware of. Her body quivered with pre-orgasmic spasms. The tip slid up now and rested at her entrance - and paused. The pause was a thing of agony for Elizabeth. She tried to thrust her hips backwards onto him but he held her around the waist in a grip of iron. A long, dog-like whine of anguished frustration escaped her - the white searing agony of need annihilating everything in her mind.
Gwen crept along the darkened hallway leading to the bedrooms. She arrived at the door to the master bedroom; opening the door just a crack, she listened intently. Her face relaxed into a relieved expression as she heard the steady breathing of Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers. The mild sleeping draught she had prepared and slipped into their evening meal had taken effect. They would sleep soundly until the morning, and perhaps be a bit embarrassed that they had slept so late. Gwen carefully closed the door and padded back down the hallway,. She stopped at Elizabeth's room and pressed her ear against the wall next to the door. She detected a noise, a sound a human would make during only one activity. Gwen pressed the length of her body up against the wall as she listened and rubbed herself up and down slightly, feeling her breasts grind against the rough material of her clothing. Her hand slipping under her skirt and began to move methodically at her groin. Her face bore an expression that was a mix of anguish and pleasure.
"Oh, Master," she moaned ever so softly. "It should be me. It should be me!"
The thing that sat at the proffered entrance to her body continued to speak in an unknown tongue. Its taloned hands gripped the girl's tiny waist as she frantically tried to impale herself upon it's member. If the creature had stood up it would have been around eight foot tall, every muscle on its powerful body clearly defined through its red skin. The girl's body looked so frail and small next to it. One hand left her waist and traced a line down her back. She whined in clenched-teeth ecstasy as a long trail of blood flowed from the shallow wound; the line of dark liquid contrasting starkly with her flawless white skin. The demonic thing ran its finger down that line of blood and anointed itself, making one straight line down the middle of its forehead. Then it licked the remainder of her blood from it's finger. It seemed to find the taste delicious.
Both hands held the diminutive blonde girl now as the creature readied to thrust, still reciting the strange tongue. She sensed it was near and choked back her sobbing desperate tears as hope for release dawned within her mind.
Elizabeth was in an agony of need. "Pleeeaaasssssseeeee," she wailed through her gritted teeth.
Then she felt the member enter her virginal body, stretching her tight vaginal wall to, then beyond its capacity. Her head shot up and her back arched, but she her only sound was an agonized hiss of air.
Part of her didn't believe she could such a massive tool within her frail body, but the member had smoothly embedded a third of its length within her. She was stretched wide with this first invasion and knew there was much more of it to come. But as she struggled to accept within her, the other part of her self begged for deeper violation. That part of her understood that it was the most natural thing in all of creation for her body to serve as a receptacle for this thing. She spread her legs slightly, trying to open herself up to him as much as was physically possible, and begged for more.
The cock within her paused, and she knew he was savoring her agonized pleasure, feeling her desperate movements as she struggled to accommodate him. It withdrew about an inch then thrust again, deeper this time. Her accompanying cry was not pure agony, but contained a note of pleasure. That note grew stronger as the action was repeated five more times, each thrust probing deeper within her hitherto sanctified body than the last. Tears filled her eyes - the sensations were too much for her. At the end of each thrust she knew she could take no more of him, but each time he went deeper. Finally, the full length of it was embedded within her - his hips slapping against her buttocks with the thrust.
Her orgasm exploded. The pillow fell from her mouth as she cried out with the explosive waves of pleasure rolling through her. The spasms of intense pleasure seemed to go on for ever.
The demon held himself inside her tightly spread flesh, waiting for her to finish shuddering from her orgasm. Then he spoke, "Beg your master to fuck you."
Her reply was immediate. "Fuck me! Please, Master - fuck me!!"
Azrael smiled. This one had potential. He could feel the taint of Wil within her body and it excited him. The demon began to fuck her, withdrawing until only the tip of his member remained within, then returned to fill her once more. He started off slowly, but soon built up an aggressive rhythm, the sound of his hips smacking into her ass occurring in unison with her animal grunts pleasure and pain - for her the two sensations were as one.
Elizabeth, on her hands and knees, her slight body shuddering with each thrust, settled into her role as receiver - abandoning all pretence of rational thought. She was a supplicant begging within her mind for each thrust from her master - a role that felt to her as natural as breathing. Her only need was for him to continue doing this to her - forever. Her position was perfect - it was holy.
He continued to desecrate her diminutive body in an inexorable rhythm for an age, far longer than a human male could have managed. At regular intervals he gave an especially powerful thrust into her, causing her usual gasp of pleasure to change to a cry of pain. If her brain had been capable of any rational thought, Elizabeth would have realized he slammed her hard with every thirteenth thrust.
Azrael tried to remember his promise to Wil not to damage the young lady's body. This was proving to be a bit tricky as he could taste Wil's energy mixed in with Elizabeth's, and it was exciting him - making it difficult to concentrate. He felt her life force flow through him, and his member became further engorged. Elizabeth's cries increased in intensity and pitch with it - she was already stretched to capacity, there only so much pain the collar could absorb.
Whoops, he thought. Think of England, old boy, think of England.
Elizabeth lay on her back, breathing heavily. Azrael watched her breasts rise and fall as she sucked in air. Absorbing life, expelling it, he thought, absorbing life, expelling it. She was drenched in sweat, as were the sheets, her hair clumped and stuck to her skin. He said nothing, appreciating her. She wasn't bad actually, she'd taken quite a pounding there, virginal and everything, and soaked it up. Not near the extremes he'd gone to with Wil, of course. Wil liked to push the boundaries, he thought, smiling at the memories. Elizabeth had had a good safety net under her tonight. He'd taken care to recite the incantations before he started into her. And it had pretty much just been sex, nothing... irregular. He frowned in disappointment.
Ahhh well, he told himself. Better to take these things slowly - especially as I want this bitch firmly on my side.
"Fuck," Elizabeth gasped again.
She'd said the word several times already. Azrael kept expecting something to follow it but nothing ever did.
"Would you like to?" he inquired.
She flopped her head across to the left and regarded him. Her eyes ran down the length of his naked body. She found the sight of his well-defined abdominal muscles under his lightly tanned skin pleasing.
He must be fit, she thought. I'm shagged senseless and he's only perspiring slightly. Tiredly she raised her arm and ran it through his hair.
"Could you give me a couple of minutes, darling?" she smiled weakly, "Just to catch my breath?"
"Nope," he replied, grabbing her sweaty waist and, almost losing his grip, dragged her body to him.
She giggled, surrendering to his touch.
As Azrael finished dressing himself he gazed down upon her sleeping form. She still wore the collar and he could feel the energy flow between them, reduced to a subtle link now as the passion subsided.
He considered the situation. He was step closer, but only a step. He needed to buy some time, and that meant slowing down those others. How to slow them down? Azrael paced up and down next to the bed. Elizabeth murmured softly to herself.
How about a dose of violence, thought Azrael. That'll slow 'em down.
With another brilliant plan safely secured in his brain he moved swiftly to the French door and exited, leaping over the balcony railing and landing on the grass with a soft thump. He straightened, looked left, looked right and then proceeded around the front of the house and so out on to the street.
There was a form there - barring his passage. He stopped sharply and stared at the small shape.
"No!" he hissed. There was a new sound to his voice, a desperate edge. "There is an agreement!"
Fluff sat before him, her golden, saucer-shaped eyes expressionless. Aside from some idle flicking of the tip of her tail, she did not move.
"You have no right to intervene!" Azrael took a bold step forwards, his finger jabbing at her. At the movement Fluff sunk down onto all fours and emitted a low kitty growl. Azrael leapt back as if he'd just been stung, his eyes wide.
"I'm sorry!" Both hands were out in front of him now, palms facing Fluff in a gesture of appeasement. "I just meant that there is an agreement. And...and you can't," he trod gingerly over his words, "for whatever reason, break that agreement. Because it's been agreed to." He finished somewhat lamely, his hands now almost in a position of prayer.
Fluff remained unmoving for long moments. Azrael stood, palms touching, with an almost pleading expression on his face. Time froze, the scene hung there, delicately balanced on the knife-edge of fate.
Fluff appeared to notice something worthy of investigation off in the bushes on the other side of the house - noiselessly she padded away into the darkness.
"OK, thank you," said Azrael to the shadows whence Fluff had disappeared, obviously relieved, "I fully, I say fully understand your position and where you're coming from here." He was walking towards the street now.
"I agree that it is sooo hard to find a good human these days - quite with you there," he said talking back over his shoulder as he reached the street, "and we'll discuss that, sure. My people will be in contact with your people and it'll be awwwlll smoothed over. Good, thanks, fine. Love you but gotta run!"
He turned on to the street and tried to slow his respiration rate. Unholy shit were those things fickle! Mostly they couldn't care less about your existence but every now and then one will just... He let that thought hang, uncompleted. He didn't want the ugly image of an enraged feline haunting him. Again.
Driving the thoughts from his mind he tried to once again focus on what he was supposed to be doing, finding and slowing down the competition. With that he broke into a jog and disappeared around the corner.
As he disappeared from sight March and Flin stepped out of the shadows.
"I am uncertain as to why we do not just eliminate it," said Flin.
"The risk levels inherent in such a methodology exceed tolerable parameters. It is more efficient to obtain our mission objectives without having to engage in significant violence processing."
"Then what do you call what we just did at that bar on the waterfront?"
"Unfortunate. But we were attacked."
"Only by a few of them, the rest were observers to the aggression inspired by the establishment's management."
"I do not remember you objecting to their liquidation at the time," noted Marcus.
"True." Flin pondered for a moment. "Marcus," Marcus turned to look at Flin at the use of his name, "did you experience sensations of... pleasure during the violence processing?"
Marcus considered the inquiry.
"Yes," he said eventually, "I admit to this sensation."
"We are at the limit of our mission range."
"And it seems the infection is spreading."
"It does. Moreover, our processes have become so disrupted that we are failing to register maladaptive cognitions in an adequately timely manner."
"It would seem."
Marcus spoke again.
"Should we abort."
"The mission is close to completion. To abort now would represent a considerable amount of wasted resources."
"A valid assessment. It is agreed then we will apprehend the target and... process it."
"Only after we have made absolutely sure that it is indeed she - rather than one of its idle conquests. Do not forget - they are master of deceit and have tricked us before."
"Of course. Extraction," Marcus seemed to savor the word, "of a confession will be a top priority."
"Yes," Flin said, "yes, indeed. Now, prepare to employ the vertical obstacle scaling technology."
"I have it here." He hoisted the ladder up, and Flin grabbed the other end. They walked over to the house with the ladder between them. A cat stood on the front lawn. As they passed, each gave her a polite nod of the head - the feline merely looked at each entity in turn.
Fluff stood unmoving as they disappeared around the back of the house. Her big round eyes lifted up to the heavens and their gaze rested upon the moon. For a long while she looked upon that ancient silvery orb, before she abruptly turned and skulked across to the next-door neighbor's lawn - irritated at the answer she had got.
Elizabeth moved slightly, half-asleep, her body cooling, coming down from the heights of her exertions. The effects of the adrenaline and the natural and not-so-natural painkillers in her system began to fade and be replaced by the ache of her over-stretched muscles. She was unused to this sort of sensation, as she had had few encounters with any sort of physically demanding activities during her life. She felt different somehow, not only in her body but also in her mind. It was impossible to pinpoint what this difference was - but things had changed, that she understood. Elizabeth relaxed and, enjoying the new sensations in her exhausted body, began to drop off into sleep.
There was a voice. "Elizabeth - wake up! Can you hear me?"
Elizabeth tried to ignore it.
"Wake up girl! Come on! I wonder if I can slap you."
The voice had proven impossible to ignore so Elizabeth tried to placate it.
"I'll get up in a minute, Mama." Her voice was full of sleep.
"God! I wonder if I can just..." Elizabeth's hand reached up and came down upon her cheek. She started - half-sitting up. She had just slapped herself! Had she been dreaming?
"We need to talk," the voice said.
Elizabeth looked around, floundering. There was no-one there! The voice sounded so familiar, it was... She tried to place where she had heard that voice before, her brain taking time to start moving again. Her blood froze as the answer came to her. It was her voice!
"Who...who is that?" she stammered.
"That's kinda a long story; we'll get into that whole deal later. For now my name is Wil and we need to get our ass the fuck out'a here!"
Elizabeth's mouth went slack. She had just spoken! But hadn't! Well, her mouth had moved but the words that came out were someone else's. It was unreal - she must be dreaming!
With that thought she half-relaxed and flopped back down onto the bed. Of course! It was one of those really strong dreams that you can't tell is real or not until you wake up! Having rationalized what was happening to herself Elizabeth relaxed, letting events in her dream carry her on.
"Ummm," the feeling of sleepiness returning almost straight away, "and why do we need to 'get the fuck out of here' then?"
"That is also a long story that we don't have time for right now," her mouth said in the dream, "but I need you to get your ass up and the fuck out of here, ASAP."
"But I don't even own a donkey." This was a strange dream indeed. "What is an ASAP?"
"Just believe me for now, OK? Get up, get dressed and get... Oh, shit - too late."
Elizabeth's head had snapped toward the balcony of its own volition. There were two men standing there, expressionless and cold. Elizabeth started as she saw them and sucked her breath in sharply. This dream was getting uncomfortably strange, she decided. It was time to take control of it and hopefully it would turn into something more pleasant, as these sort of dreams sometimes did.
"Look here - there has obviously been a mistake," she began, "I do believe you gentlemen are in the wrong house, you must be looking for someone else. So please do be on your way. Ta-ta. Thank you."
One of the men looked at the other with a raised eyebrow.
"No," said the other, "don't fall for it - it's a trick."
The first man nodded agreement and they both stepped towards here at the same time.
"What a bloody silly dream," muttered Elizabeth. But then, dreams often are.
"Stupid," said the voice.
After gagging the target, Marcus and Flin wrapped the girl in one of the sheets on the bed. The target had barely struggled and so far this part of the operation was going smoothly. She had appeared to be unsure as to what course of action to take against them, and had wasted too much time arguing with herself. Humans can be peculiarly inefficient, they agreed.
Flin carried the girl down the ladder over his shoulder in a fireman's hoist. He reached the bottom and passed the package - which was struggling weakly now - to Marcus.
"What about the ladder."
"Let us leave it here. That way someone else has to clean up the mess we have made and save us the bother. This will be more efficient."
Flin flashed Marcus a grin. And just as quickly dropped it as he realized what he was doing.
"Agreed. Let us be off."
They trudged around to the front of the house, by the same route that Azrael had used not too long before. Fluff was there still, sitting on the fence now and regarding the scene. Marcus, leading the way, nodded to Fluff again. Fluff stared back.
"There is an agreement between our species," Marcus stated as he passed her, the bulky white package over his shoulder.
"Yes," said Flin as it came his turn to pass the feline, "the agreement."
Fluff continued to stare but made no movement. She lost interest as the two figures began to walk down the street away from her. A flower moved slightly in the breeze, catching her eye. Fluff stared down at it for a moment, then pounced.
They lay on the bed in the strangers' room and looked at the ceiling. It was not a hugely impressive sight; it needed a good clean - or maybe a fresh coat of paint.
Wil remarked as much, attempting to break the ice.
"Really." Elizabeth replied, flatly.
Neither of them said anything more for a bit.
Their mouth opened; Elizabeth's accent came out. "I wonder when it was," she said slowly, "when I went completely insane?"
"I get the same feeling sometimes," Elizabeth's mouth replied in a very different tone and accent, "but for different reasons. But you ain't goin' insane - this is real, I'm real, and this situation is very real."
"That is possible - these ropes are starting to hurt already. That's not a very dreamy thing."
"Yeh, that's right. That's how you can tell if it's real life - whether it hurts or not."
"For you maybe. My real life is not usually painful."
"Well, good for you, Princess. Now can we focus on the situation?"
"Really, have you no sense of decorum? First we should at least introduce ourselves properly. I am Elizabeth Chalmers. What did you say your name was?"
"Wilhelmina - Wilhelmina Murray. Call me Wil. Please."
"Wil. That is a coincidence. I was just...err, talking with a nice gentleman called Will."
"Yeh, I felt some of your 'conversation'. His name ain't Will. I'm Wil. Got it?"
"Yes, Wil you am. I've heard something like that before."
"He responds to Azrael and for fuck's sake - does it fuckin' matter right now!"
"Look here you - I shall not be addressed in such a manner by a figment of my imagination!"
"You dumb ass! Are you fuckin' retarded?"
"Me? I'm not the one who lacks proper diction!"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"My point exactly."
They fell silent for a while.
"Look I'm really sorry that you're involved in this," Wil began again, "but if you just let me run things here, I can get us outa this. Right?"
"You? 'Run things'? But surely all this is your fault? It is because of you, whatever you really are, that I am in this situation in the first place!" Her voice became increasingly outraged are she went on.
"Ssshh," Wil shushed her, "keep your voice down! Don't let them hear you. Look, in case you haven't noticed our situation is fuckin' serious. As is fuckin' critical, ya got that? Do I make myself clear? If we don't play this right we will be truly fucked."
"Well that's obvious," Elizabeth hissed back, "I do not suppose they tied me, or us, or whatever, in this position by chance, do you?"
Elizabeth/Wil's hands were tied behind their back and they lay towards the foot of the bed with their legs overhanging the end. Their ankles were bound to the bed's feet, spreading their legs wide. To further emphasize this humiliating position, the two strangers had likewise also bound their knees to the outer frame of the bed, stretching their legs apart even further and making it impossible to move them even slightly. About the only thing they could move down there was to jiggle their hips up and down, and that was not the sort of motion they wanted to be making in this situation.
After binding them in this manner their abductors had left, about ten minutes ago, without so much as a word; their abductors' silence had been unsettling. So they lay, naked and helpless, wide open to any intruder, awaiting their fate.
"I don't mean fucked, I mean fucked! As in tortured, murdered, yada, fuckin' yada."
Elizabeth found that a bit confusing but understood the gist of the message. She paused to consider it. This all did seem rather real. A tingle of unease went up her spine.
"Well, perhaps if we say to them that we promise not to tell anyone about this they'll let us go?"
"Oh yeah," Wil observed dryly, "perhaps they'll give us a sweetie and send us on our way."
"Well, it's my bloody body and I don't want to die!"
"I'm stuck the fuck in it too and I don't want to die either - which I will if this pasty body of yours gets killed!" She looked down at the smooth white flesh of Elizabeth's body. "Don't you ever get outdoors here?"
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you hopped in here with me - uninvited. And how dare you start criticizing my body! Everyone of any decent breeding knows that a tan is a sign of working class origins, of which I am beginning to suspect you are! A lady should have milky white skin, the complexion of cream." Elizabeth's growing fear was manifesting itself in anger.
"You are shitting me!" Both their voices had risen in pitch. "Perhaps you should've asked your fuckin' slimy piece of shit new boyfriend about this body sharing deal. I know I fuckin' well will be."
Their argument had grown to such an engrossing level that they almost missed the sound of footsteps outside the door.
"Now please shut up," implored Wil in a desperate hiss, "and let me do all the talking."
"And why ever should I entrust my safety to you?"
"Because I've been here before."
Elizabeth said nothing. The way that last line had come out had startled her. It suddenly seemed like a good idea to let this strange girl take charge right now. The return of those two men had jerked her back to the reality of their situation and she was deathly afraid again.
The door opened as they fell silent. Elizabeth/Wil looked at the strangers. They looked back, silent, appraising. One man turned to the other.
"Fascinating," he said.
Continued in Chapter 5
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