Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“My dear, I spent simply millions of credits reinforcing the walls and the security system is top notch—positively top notch,” Mistress Mapletaste was telling Mistress Seethree. “I promise you, we’re all safe in here.”
“Well, even if he somehow did get in, my bodyslave, Boingo has been trained in all forms of defense.” Mistress Seethree waved her fan made of long, fluffy pinga feathers nervously so that the purple and black plumes shivered back and forth in the air. “Boingo would have him down on the floor before he could even get a step into the room!”
“My Dra’kan was a fighter on the Blood Circuit for years before I bought him,” Mistress Mapletaste said quickly, not to be outdone. “He was undefeated—a true champion! So I’m sure if your Boingo isn’t up to the job, Dra’kan will manage just fine.”
“But my Boingo—” Mistress Seethree began, shaking her fan again.
And then the lights had gone out.
There were screams all around and Miri felt dread, creeping like a living thing on silent caterpillar feet down the groove of her spine.
Die—we’re all going to die! she thought.
And then the lights had come back on and the killing began.
The killer had a white face that looked like a mask and his fingers were long, sharp blades. He killed the two bodyslaves the Mistresses had been bragging about in the blink of an eye. One moment the two of them were standing in a protective crouch, ready to fight, and the next moment they were sinking to their knees, clutching at their throats which were gouting deep red arterial blood.
He cut their carotid arteries! the medical part of Miri’s brain yammered at her. Hurry—if you go apply pressure and get help right away, maybe you can save at least one of them!
But she found she couldn’t go anywhere or do anything—she was frozen to the spot. She’d heard it said before that when confronted with danger, a person would either fight for his or her life or flee the situation. But Miri’s response appeared to be neither of these—instead, she just froze, watching in horror as the white-faced killer turned his attention to Mistress Seethree, who was screaming with all her might.
A slash of the killer’s fingers and the scream became a choked gurgle. Mistress Seethree, who had been wearing an elaborate puffy gown made of the same feathers as her fan, was suddenly on her knees, clutching at her throat as the expensive plumes went sodden with blood.
Then the killer turned to Mistress Mapletaste, his black eyes blazing.
“Well that was fun, wasn’t it?” he asked, in a high, cold voice that made Miri want to vomit. “But it was over so quickly. Why don’t you and I take a little time and get to know each other?”
It was at this point that Miri had crawled into Beelie, closing herself inside the golden automaton. Beelie was hermetically sealed and the killer had been unable to breach his defenses and get to Miri, though he had tried over and over, scratching the robot’s golden outer shell with his long, razor-sharp talons and crooning her name.
“Oh, Mistress Mirabella…little Miri…I know you’re in there, my sweet. Why don’t you come out so we can play?”
That had been horrifying enough, but in the dream it was worse because when she looked around for Beelie to hide inside him, she found that he was gone—nowhere to be seen.
“Beelie? Beelie?” she gasped, looking around in horror. “Oh God, where did you go?”
There was no answer. The golden automaton was gone. And then the killer finished with Mistress Mapletaste and turned towards Miri. Leaving the fallen Mistress in a bloody heap on the floor, he began stalking towards her, crooning her name.
“Miri…little Miri,” he called in a sing-song voice. “You’re the last one left to play with… the last one on my list.”
“Leave me alone!” Miri gasped, looking for somewhere to hide—but there was nowhere. The floor was littered with dead, bleeding bodies and there wasn’t even a couch to hide behind or a window to climb out of!
Still, she began to run. But in that awful way of nightmares, she felt as though she was running through glue. Every step she took seemed to be in slow motion and she could feel the killer getting closer and closer…
“I saved the best for last, Mistress Mirabella,” he crooned, getting closer all the time. “I think we’ll make our time together last a long…long time.”
“No! No!” Miri cried. Looking over her shoulder, she saw he was right there—just a step behind her—his black eyes filled with horrible glee as he reached for her with those bloody blades of his fingers…
He’s going to get me this time, she thought, panic overwhelming her. He’s going to get me and there’s nothing I can do about it—no way to get away!