Chapter 37: The Mystery of Snuggle Bottom, Part 2

Kate and Monday were eating ice cream with Molly the receptionist when I barreled headlong into the kitchen. “RUN!” I yelled. Monday was immediately on his feet.

“Why?” Molly asked, dipping her spoon into the box for another scoop.

The door burst open behind me, revealing the huge, slavering hound in all its glory. “Dinkies!” Kate yelled, and all of us, Molly as well, ran for the other kitchen door. I grabbed a heavy-looking wrench that was sitting on the counter and threw it at the hound, but it just bounced off harmlessly.

Now back in the lobby, Molly dived behind the front desk and the rest of us raced up the main staircase as we heard the hound tearing through the kitchen, pots and pans crashing everywhere. I figured I must have pissed it off with the wrench.

“What is going on out here?!” Mr. Winthrop had left his office and strode into the main entryway. He looked up at us on the stairs, angrily. Behind him, the man-sized hound stepped out of the kitchen and padded up behind him.

We were frozen in place. Monday pointed at the huge canine. “Hou--hou---”

“How am I doing?” Mr. Winthrop responded. “Terrible! What is all this racket--?”

Then his head was gone, ripped from his neck and consumed by the gnashing bite of the monstrous dog. We all screamed as one and ran again as Mr. Winthrop’s lifeless body crumpled to the beautiful hardwood floor, his lifeblood staining it to match the textured wallpaper.

We heard the beast chasing us up the stairs. Reaching the second floor again, Kate and I dashed to the right while Monday went to the left. We had no time to correct our accidental split-up, so we continued around the corner.

Monday heard the monstrous hound just behind him. He threw himself through a side door and fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

“Grrr...”

He looked up. The hound was right there, turning around toward him! Monday somehow ended up back in the hallway, behind the dog! But he had run through one of the doors! How could this be? he asked himself, confused and desperate. He threw himself through another side door. Now he was on the other side of the hound, again, but still in the hallway! It turned to regard him. Monday ran around the corner.

“Hey, ugly!” I yelled from the other side of the stairwell, and the hound turned toward me. I had distracted him from Monday, but now I was the quarry once more. I ran back around the corner.

As the hound rounded the corner after me, a now half-naked Kate threw her voluminous sweater at its face. She scored a lucky hit, and the beast thrashed about, its vision obscured. We both jumped on it, securing the sweater on its head, but it was too strong! It bucked, and Kate was knocked through one door while I crashed through another.

“Tom?” Demie was standing in what appeared to be a small library, looking angry. “Where did you go?”

I slammed the door shut behind me, doubting that the wooden barrier would hold against that beast, but then I heard it tromping away. I slid to the floor, exhausted. “Holy shit,” I muttered.

Demie crossed her arms, accentuating her magnificent boobs in that short, tight purple dress. “What the fuck is going on here, Tom?”

“I have absolutely no idea! First there was a ghost, and ... I took care of that, but then this monster hound showed up. Oh shit, I wonder if it killed Doobie Roo? Monday’s gonna be beside himself. Oh, and Mr. Winthrop’s dead.”

Demie pulled me to my feet. “Well, let’s see how monstrous this hound is. Probably nothing compared to a real hellhound.”

I noticed a length of metal pipe on the floor nearby, and grabbed it. Though it was heavy, I didn’t think it would be much more effective against that creature than the wrench, but it was better than nothing.

Demie opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Hmp ... gone.”

Kate sailed through the door, the impact flinging it open wide and then ricocheting it shut behind her. She fell to the floor, but found that instead of the soft light and cushy carpeting of the other rooms in the B&B, this one was large, bright, and the floor was hard, with arcane symbols carved into it. “Oww...” She recognized this floor; the testing hall in her old school!

“Well, you’ve finally deigned to join us, Kate?”

She looked up at the familiar voice. “Ms. Tisdale?” The severe-looking witch looked down at her disapprovingly, flanked by several male janitors from the school. Then Kate realized that she was naked from the waist up, having lost her sweater trying to restrain the hound, and she never wore bras. She crossed her arms across her bare chest, mortified.

“Tch tch tch,” Ms. Tisdale admonished her. “Unprepared for your exam, half naked ... I think it would be best if we just had these men fuck the magic out of you so that you can go and settle down with some human...” She snapped her fingers and two of the janitors, their faces blurry, came forward with a length of rope to grab Kate’s arms, pull them away from her breasts, and pin her to the floor. A third man, likewise faceless, came forward and unfastened the fly of his trousers. His hard cock snaked out, pointing at her vulnerable pussy as one of the men holding her started to tie her wrists while the other pulled her skirt up.

“No ... noo...” she whined.

“Mon-day!” the raspy voice echoed in the cold, dark room Monday found himself in.

“Zee?!” he yelled back. He had gone through another door, but now he seemed to be in a large cellar. But hadn’t he been on the second floor? The area stank terribly, but he recognized that stink ... it was his harpy girlfriend, Hepzibah, or Zee, as he had been affectionately calling her. Where was she? he wondered. “Zee?”

“Huhh ... huhh ... Mon-day!” Her voice was calling to him from further down the cellar, and he headed toward it. There was a lit candlestick on a shelf, so he grabbed it and swung it forward to see...

Zee was on all fours, in her harpy form, being fucked hard from behind by a male harpy, an incredibly ugly thing that smiled its razor-sharp teeth at him. “Boinks!” Monday cried out. “I mean, fuck! Zee!”

“Mon-day!” she moaned. “Run ... away ... chicks will ... eat you...”

He saw movement on the floor around the rutting couple, and swung the candle to get a better look. A number of small harpy children were toddling toward him, their sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight. One seemed older than the others...

“Da-da!” The little girl harpy with some of his features called out as she got close. “Eat Da-da!”

Monday screamed and ran.

The man was on top of Kate now, his hard cock thrusting between her legs, somehow missing her vulnerable pussy, but getting closer. Kate screamed.

The door burst open and Monday rushed in. “What the fuck? Kate!” He flipped around the candlestick he had been carrying, its candle falling to the floor, and clocked her would-be rapist in the face with it, knocking the faceless man backward.

One of the men holding Kate let go to grapple with Monday, and she took the opportunity to spear her fingers at where the remaining man’s eyes would be if his face wasn’t a blur. He yelled out in pain and let go of her, and she rushed to help Monday. The rope they had been restraining her with hadn’t been fully tied, so she looped it around the man’s neck, pulling him back and giving Monday an opening to smash the butt of the candlestick into his face.

“Demerits!” Ms. Tisdale admonished them. “For that you get turned into newts!” The woman’s hands started to glow as she began uttering words of eldritch power.

“RUN!” Kate yelled, and she and Monday dashed back through the door.

Kate and Monday rushed back into the hallway, breathless, and slammed the door behind them, Kate holding some rope and Monday a candlestick. Well, at least we were armed now, I thought. Demie was her own weapon, of course.

We went into the library and quickly shared what had happened to each other. There was something very weird going on with this place ... definitely magic, I figured. Someone was playing games...

And then I realized what had been bothering me. “Demie, I know who’s doing this to us.”

“Doobie Roo, where are you?”

The monstrous hound perked its ears up and headed toward Monday’s voice. It came to a door, slightly ajar, and pushed it open. It found itself in a small library, its walls lined with tall bookshelves. It heard a noise from further back in the room and moved forward, ready for the kill.

“Now!”

Then the two bookshelves to the hound’s side were falling down toward it, and it gave a whine before they slammed down, pinning it to the floor.

Before the hound could try to extricate itself, a chandelier detached itself from the ceiling and transformed into Demie as she dropped next to the bookshelves. Fashioning her arm into a scythe, she slashed the huge dog’s head from its shoulders. She grabbed it by its neck fur and held it up. Dead hound eyes looked back at her.