Not the angel you expected

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 13, 2016

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Submitted: March 13, 2016

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Not The Angel You Expected.

 

She was beautiful. Hair of brunette, eyes of cobalt, lips of magenta laced with scarlet traces.

And the young man went went for it. He wore a stylish white and blue sweater, a pair of blue jeans, black cowboy boots, and an biker’s belt.

But he was only a mere twenty-one, barely growing facial hair, while she was an elegant lady who looked in her forties, wearing a fabulous dress of scarlet and crimson, with high heels of black.

Her eyes had berry-colored makeup around them, and she looked pale and white aside from that. She finished with a maroon rose in her hair.

 

They were at a party for Halloween. It was not a masquerade party, but instead a come as you are. Grand tables, and Greek statues accentuated the place. The room was ivory white, with beautiful paintings and Halloween decor, in the best of taste. A grand piano in the room played spooky favorites for people dressed in their fashionable best. No costumes, except for the makeup that most of the women wore. Instead, everyone danced, or gossiped, ate fine meats and cheeses, drank white wine from grand glasses, and watched outside the picture window to see the lighted pool outside on the patio.

 

She saw the young man in a pack of other young men, wild young men out with their friends. And she walked through the room, passing the wine tables and the trays of offered food from the black and white tuxedo-clad servers. Stopping along the way, she removed a mirrorless compact from her pocket, repaired her magenta lipstick, put the mirror away, and swept through the room like a queen on a chessboard.

 

She was opposed by none in her intention to checkmate the young, inexperienced stud she saw before her, until she drew too near to the queen of the other color. With crimson hair like wildfire, but tied in a Grecian style above her head, and dressed in a smart green dress, the green-clad queen watched the red queen swoop down through the room.

 

The two queens looked at each other momentarily, then the first queen went back on her way, her swoop to take this young boy king without opposition. The second queen merely snapped her fingers, creating a mirror, which she looked at, but turned.

 

The pack of wild young men were whooping it up. For it was the boy king’s twenty-first birthday, and his wild pretend cowboy friends were giving him his first taste of liquor. And his first taste of freedom, too.

She bellied up to the bar where the boys had collected, and pushed one aside with her body. He looked at her, affronted, but her beautiful negated his complaint, and so the boys surrounded her. But she dismissed them with a gesture, turning her attention solely to the boy king.

 

She grabbed him, licked him behind his ear, stared in his eyes, and suddenly, good sense abandoned him.

“Check,” she replied.

Then she took him to the floor, and danced with him. They walked to the floor, and she may as well have roped or chained the boy king, for the pretend cowboy had been captured by the professional vixen. As they neared the center of the room, her check was not yet complete, for the queen in green intervened.

She approached the boy King, and attempted to deflect his attention.

“Wandering woman, be gone I say,” the red queen declared. “This hour is mine.”

The other queen withdrew, returning to her beginning place on this board. But her eyes never stopped their voyeuristic focus on the woman.

 

The red queen snapped her fingers, and demanded a musical change to a recently made song that was highly sexual. The pianist was mesmerized by her voice, and granted her request. Snapping her fingers, she sent the other men on the floor away, and danced with her captive boy king.

 

The music was dirty, but her dance was not, and the pack of wild boys began looking for girls they could use to join a the dance of their own. The place then went wild, as the red queen sang along with the music. Soon everyone was dancing to her beat, except the other queen.

 

Slowly, waiting, the other queen permitted the dance, and let the music end. But when the song ended, she uplifted her hands. A flash of bright green knocked everybody there down, so the red queen finished it by singing a song. Her music put everyone there to sleep except for her captive boy king, and the green queen.

 

The red queen went to him, and whispered secrets to him, causing his favorite body part to usurp control of his mind. His logic already put to sleep, he found that control over his booted feet no longer belonged to his legs, but to her voice, and control of his hands, no longer to his arms, but to her eyes.

 

With everyone else passed out on the floor, the red queen and the captive boy king adjourned to the patio outside. They danced on the patio to no music at all, and with each step of his feet, he became deeper entranced in her power.

 

They danced together, with her pretending to allow him to lead, and the poor pretend cowboy didn’t know he was not running this show. She danced through the patio with her helpless captive,. and then they danced onto the pool. Once they did, he noticed that his boots were getting wet, but only on the bottom. To his excitement and confusion, they were walking on the water, no, waltzing in the water.

 

And they waltzed away from the party, and into the forest, where she, step by step and dance by dance, eventually forced him pleasurably to his knees. And then she laid his body down, using his own elation to control him. He laid flat on the ground, then suddenly realized he’d been paralyzed.

“Ma’am, I can’t move . . .”

“Checkmate,” she replied.

And she pressed her body upon his.

He existed only for her pleasure, as his pleasure began to disappear. Fear replaced elation, and sense returned. But mobility did not follow.

She used every part of his body, leaving his boots but shredding the rest of his clothing to tatters through her fingernails, inflicting both pain and pleasure at the same time.

“Let me up! Stop right this minute!”

She refused, and seized his throat. Now air abandoned him, too. She opened her mouth right before his eyes, revealing her vampiric teeth. And she knelt down to bite him on the neck.

 

A blast of green force pushed the the red queen away.

“As far as you go, Acrasia!” demanded the green queen.

“Kylie,” hissed the red queen.

The red queen looked up at her enemy.

The green woman had not been phased by her powers, and remained awake, but followed with stealth. And she had been watching all this time, waiting for the the evidence.

 

The red queen jumped up, and threw a blast of power at the green woman.

With magic, the green queen reflected the red queen’s spell back on her, but the spell did no harm to Acrasia the vampire.

 

Acrasia went to the paralyzed boy, and held her teeth to his throat. Fear so ran through him, he lost bladder control, but the woman in green turned and walked away.

“So much for Kylie and her interventionist career. Now, morsel, you’ll be my slave forever!”

“Help!” the boy king cried out.

Only he discovered, as she started to bite down, he could move again. He pushed her away, and fell down to her feet. And he started trying to crawl, but she grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up.

“What a worthless gesture! Now you will be my tormented slave forever!”

“Oh Acrasia,” Kylie said in response.

Though both of them looked for her, she could not be seen.

Suddenly, there was an angel there, it was Kylie, but it also wasn’t. It was an orc, and yet, it wasn’t. It was an angel, no a combination, all three of them in a single being. And it rapidly glowed with the power of daylight.

Acrasia dropped the boy king, and ran toward the angel. She removed a sword from out of nowhere, and swung it. Just as she touched the border of the angel’s flesh, the angel vanished, and was replaced by a great blast light from the rising of the dawn.

 

The half-orc angel appeared behind the boy king, and helped him stand up. They ran back through the woods to return to the party.

Acraisa’s flesh burned and melted, and she let out such a screech that her power over the sleeping guests of the party was dispelled.

“Checkmate,” the half-orc angel declared. Then she and the boy King watched Acrasia’s complete destruction.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” asked the boy king.

“Not the angel you expected, am I? Don’t worry. I’m a friend of your half-sister. From now on, check every woman you meet with a mirror. Okay?” the half-orc angel advised him.

Then she placed her hands upon him. Unlike Acraisa, she did not control him, but she healed him of wounds and cleaned up his clothes with her flowing angelic power. She also disappeared.

 

He returned to the party, but found all of his friends were slowly waking up. And a beautiful girl with a pink skirt, and blonde hair, angrily hit a boy because he was dancing with another girl. She saw the boy king, and he saw her. And they looked at each other for a moment.

“Hi there, I’m Arthur.” He smiled at her, handsomely.

“Gwen,” she replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

He asked a passing woman for a mirror, and though she didn’t know why he wanted it, she granted it to him. He looked at Gwen through it, and saw nothing but a girl. So he took her and danced with her, all throughout the day after Halloween.

And Kylie, the green queen, watched him protectively.

“My vow is fulfilled, Morgan,” she said. “Your brother is safe from Acrasia.”


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