Chapter 3: Bill meets the new neighbors.

Bill was woken some time later by the pressure of his bladder. Blinking the sleep away from his eyes he saw that Rekka was still out of it, her head resting on his chest with an arm and leg thrown over him possessively.

Unbelievably he felt well rested and loose, as though he’d slept the night away instead of being grudge fucked by an insatiable hellhound.

Careful not to rouse her he slid away and lowered her gently into the furs.

Rekka let forth a sleepy, “Wan...” and began to gently hump the air in her sleep.

Best to let sleeping dogs lie, he thought.

Standing, he quietly and quickly dressed, as the air was chilly without his adorable electric heater of a hellhound wrapped around him. He cursed internally at wearing his jeans sans underwear as he stuffed the remnants of his boxers into his pocket and ambled into the light flooding through the cave mouth in search of relief.

Bill did his business against a tree a few yards from the cave and found himself greatly parched. He realized he’d not eaten or drunk anything since his lunch the previous day. About time he explored that babbling brook he could hear faintly through the trees.

As he trooped through the forest he began to admire the pristine scenery. He had never seen such natural beauty, completely untouched by civilization. Even in the woods around his small hick town there was always some mark of humanity’s passage, be it careless litter or ATV tracks wending every which way. He could quite possibly be the first human to ever grace Rekka’s little haven.

The bright morning light diffused through the leafy canopy bringing to his mind the old animated films, expecting Bambi to come trotting out at any moment. Luckily for Bambi he didn’t show, because Bill was starting to realize how hungry he was. He’d snap that little bugger’s cute neck if he were foolish enough to wander close.

Eventually coming upon the stream he slid down a shallow bank and looked around. It wasn’t very deep, just a few inches of crystal clear water running over sand and rocks. He could see that several yards upstream there was a small rocky overhang creating a showery waterfall.

Contemplating the water flowing past him, he wondered if there were dangerous microbes or brain eating amoebas excitedly waiting for him to drink. Shrugging, he figured he’d rather die feverish and delirious than thirsty so he crouched down and drank his fill. It was cold, crisp and deliciously pure.

The amoebas were probably crawling toward his precious brains already.

His immediate concerns taken care of, Bill strolled on back the way he came and entered Rekka’s cave. He found her still peacefully sleeping, occasionally humping at the air as she raped him in her dreams.

She was quite a sight in all her nude glory. The natural morning light filtered in to soften her savage, powerful aspect and enhanced her cuddly soft fuzzy side. He fought the urge to lay back down and snuggle with her.

He brought out his cellphone and quickly snapped a picture, knowing he’d have few opportunities to see a passive Rekka. He felt a twinge of conscience at violating Rekka’s privacy but squashed the feeling in the pursuit of vacation photos. He was then surprised to see the battery still showed a complete charge. Curiously, the icon indicated that the phone was currently in charging mode. He flipped it over and removed it from its protective case to extract the battery. Looking back to the screen he saw that it was still on, and inexplicably charging.

Bill shrugged, assuming magical shenanigans were at play and decided to ignore the mystery unless the phone exploded. Closing it back up and placing it in the case he tucked the phone into his shirt pocket again.

His stomach took that moment to announce its fury at being ignored so long.

The low growling caused Rekka to snort and reach over to Bill’s side of the furs. Finding no human sleep-aid she sat up and yawned, blinking sleepily up at him.

“Mornin’, husband! Ready for round ten?” she asked as she stretched, grinning, then patted the furs next to her.

Bill chose to ignore the husband remark, for now. Instead he replied, “Eleven, actually, and no. I’m starving, what are we doing about breakfast?”

Rekka laughed musically before hopping to her feet, breasts bouncing jauntily as she searched around for her bits of clothing. “You were keepin’ track! Guess I’ll have’ta try harder today. But yeah, we should eat. You need to keep your strength up. Don’t need you goin’ soft on me!” She licked her lips and blew him a kiss as she shimmied into her bikini shorts.

“Yeah, that’d be a shame. What’s for breakfast? I didn’t see a Waffle House on my way to the pissing tree out there,” he said while enjoying the show of her struggling back into her chest wrap. He hated to see those pink nipples leave but loved to watch them go.

Finished, she reached up to pull his head down for a lingering kiss.

“I’ll go hunt us up somethin’ tasty. You can’t go, you make so much noise the game’ll hear you comin’ for miles! You stay here lookin’ pretty, maybe clean up a bit sugar,” she said condescendingly.

Rekka brazenly ignored his raised eyebrow and swatted his ass, making him jump a bit as she skipped out of the cave laughing.

Bill sighed and followed her out.

He found her squatting next to his toilet tree, doing her own business. When finished, she hopped forward and kicked back a few flurries of dirt and leaves. Satisfied, she gave him one last wide grin and with a cheery wave bounded off into the trees running on all fours. Bill lamely waved in return before turning back into the cave. He decided he might as well embrace this new domestic role she’d thrust upon him.

He saw that the firepit needed more wood if they were to cook whatever pitiful woodland creature she dragged back in. First though, he wanted to sort out those furs they had thoroughly debased last night. Picking off the first couple layers he decided the rest would do with a good airing out and flipped the whole lot into a roll onto his shoulder to take out of the cave.

He spread the furs around on low hanging branches and looked about for something to beat them with, recalling now that he’d forgotten his trusty stave at the glade where he and Rekka had “met”.

Irritated with himself, he set to making a new one with the multi-tool’s little blade. It just wasn’t the same, as this one was undeniably just a staff. He whipped his new club at the furs, clouds of dust and loose fuzz drifting off until he was satisfied. Trusting in the fresh breeze to do the rest, he leaned the staff against the cave entrance and turned to his next task.

Gathering up the two aromatic furs reeking of aroused hellhound and tortured human, Bill retraced his steps to the little stream he had found. He scrubbed them diligently as he could without soap or detergent to aid the process. When they seemed to be as clean as he could manage he laid them flat on some rocks in direct sunlight to dry. Now for himself.

Bill stripped down, laying his boots and jeans on the bank with his phone tucked safely away into one boot. Holding his socks and shirt he braced himself and stepped under the small waterfall, gasping and cursing at the shocking cold. Next time he was absolutely dragging Rekka in here with him, she’d probably turn it into an open-air sauna. He quickly scrubbed himself as well as he could, wishing for soap and yearning for indoor heated plumbing. Next, he rinsed out his shirt and socks, laying them out with the furs to dry.

Bill then spent the next hour or so gathering up a huge pile of dead wood and kindling for the fire, not wanting to have to do it again anytime soon. Laziness by preparedness was his motto. Never do the same job more than necessary as it could become someone else’s problem later.

Finding his clothes dry enough, but the furs still slightly damp he decided they could finish drying by the fire. He got dressed and tossed the entire pile of wood onto the furs and wrapped them into a hugely awkward yet secure package.

He experimentally hefted it and found the comically large package was easy to lift, but awkward to carry. He briefly wondered what, if anything, that portal had done to him. He knew he shouldn’t be capable of this sort of strength and stamina. Though he certainly wasn’t a slouch and worked a physical job, this was just getting ridiculous. He didn’t feel any lighter than back home, so figured it couldn’t be a change in gravity causing this. Ah well, he thought, more magical shenanigans. He’d wait for that plot exposition if it ever came at all. Straining to see around his absurdly sized load he began his trek back to the cave.

Nearing Rekka’s cave he heard noises and assumed she’d returned with her trophy. Likely expected him to cook it himself and feed it to her lying back on the furs like some decadent barbarian queen. His oddly cheerful reverie was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“Halt!” the deep masculine shout demanded.

Bill drew himself up short, causing the furs to shift and send the entire pile of wood tumbling to the ground, scattering untidily in front of him. Scowling at the mess, he looked at his new guests. There were seven of them arranged across the clearing, blocking his path back to the cave. His eyes widened upon seeing an honest-to-God knight in shining armor seated on a snorting charger. The face of his helm was raised and two flat brown eyes gazed dispassionately at him over a long aquiline nose sporting a full curling mustache.

Arranged loosely around the knight were a half-dozen men-at-arms, clad in leather armor topped by steel helms reminiscent of modern combat helmets. Three carried tall spears, and two with large wicked looking heavy crossbows. Bill was mostly interested in the one currently aimed directly at him. The last and least remarkable soldier was holding in both hands a long thin package wrapped loosely in oiled leather and wearing a large backpack. Most of them weren’t even looking his way as they watched the surrounding forest, clearly ill at ease.

Bill slowly raised his hands, palms forward to show he was unarmed. “What seems to be the problem, officer?” he asked, desperately hoping this was just your standard deep forest patrol. They were probably looking for illicit meth labs down at the orc trailer park.

Lancelot ignored him. “Search him, Tullius,” he said, giving a curt wave. The closest soldier tossed his spear to another and drew a short stabbing sword from a sheath at his side. He was slightly shorter than Bill, but stockier and more powerfully built, much like the rest of the soldiers. Approaching smoothly, he avoided crossing the aim of the crossbowman, circling behind Bill’s back. Bill calmly endured a rather crude pat down which mostly concerned his belt, jeans and pant legs. Tullius found only his wallet and multi-tool which he puzzled over a moment before nodding at the knight, having missed the cellphone tucked into Bill’s shirt pocket. Sir Galahad waved them forward. Tullius sheathed his sword and grabbed Bill firmly by the bicep, ordering, “Move.”

Bill complied and allowed himself to be marched up to the side of the horse where Tullius handed over Bill’s belongings. The knight flipped open the wallet, dipping clumsily through its contents with gauntleted fingers before casually tossing it to the ground. Bill gritted his teeth and decided to pretend that hadn’t pissed him off. The multi-tool brought an interested murmur from the knight’s lips as he pulled it open and clacked the pliers together experimentally. Folding it back he tucked it into a pouch on the side of his saddle, finally giving Bill his attention as he gazed sternly down at him.

Bill stole the initiative and asked, “Everything in order, sir... ?” He ignored Tullius’ sharp intake of breath and squeezing on his bicep.

“Mmm. You will refer to me as Lord Flavius, wretch,” he said with arrogant disdain. “Now, you will tell me of the creature, its features, and where the unholy beast is lurking,” he commanded. Lord Flavius then picked up an odd crystal and metal gadget chained to his saddle. He inspected it with interest as it flashed a clear white light for a brief moment. Grunting, he let it fall back to hang, swinging, the light extinguished.

“I know that... ‘she’,” Flavius said with dripping contempt, “is near.”

Bill cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, Flavor Lord, no clue what you’re on about. Just enjoying a hike through the woods. Thought I’d start a fire and roast some marshmallows. Don’t know about any creatures but I did see a big squirrel some ways back. Looked pretty menacing. Might want to check it out.”

Lord Flavius frowned, shooting a look at Tullius who promptly swung his meaty fist into Bill’s stomach with a dull packing thud. Bill blinked at Tullius, who’s knuckles still dug into his stomach. They shared a look of mutual surprise from his non-reaction. Rekka, Bill mused, had caused him more pain swatting his ass.

“Oh, uh ... Oof,” he said lamely a moment later. Tullius stepped back cursing in alarm, reaching for his sword and looking to his lord for instruction.

“Incubus...” Flavius hissed, his disgust plain as he slid a broadsword free from the sheath on his saddle. “The vile succubus has corrupted him!” he shouted, backing the snorting horse up. The entire troop now focused on Bill. He assumed things were about to go completely to shit as his eyes locked onto the crossbows aimed at his chest. Flavius raised the sword over his head and screamed, “What are you waiting for, fools? Kill-!”

He was interrupted by a furious snarling from behind. As one they turned their heads, revealing Rekka standing in the open shaking with rage. Her eyes burned malevolently with jets of fire, ears laid flat against her skull as she bared her fangs and spread her claws with obvious deadly intent. A headless deer carcass lay quietly bleeding beside her. Ah, breakfast, Bill’s neglected stomach informed him.

“Get the fuck away from my husband, assholes!” she snarled through her fangs. Even Bill felt slightly uneasy as his cheerful little Rekka turned into a murderous monster before his eyes. Still cute, though, he decided.

“Aww, y’all done fucked up, now,” Bill taunted.

“Hellhound!” Lord Flavius gasped, his dismay obvious. Flipping his visor down, he wheeled his charger and began barking orders. “Spears, forward! Contain her! Matius! This is it, ready the weapon and bring her down!” he shouted, the two spearmen slid together and lowered their spears towards Rekka. The one called Matius rushed to the side for space and bent to unwrap whatever it was he carried, dropping his large pack down next to him. Flavius spared a thought for the crossbowmen and said, “Arbalests, kill that idiot.”

“Oh, shit!” Bill cursed, a sinking suspicion that he might be the idiot as both crossbows swiveled back onto him. He threw his arms up and flinched as they readied to fire, too surprised dodge.

Rekka came to his rescue, her opening move being to throw their breakfast with bone snapping force into one of the crossbowmen, flipping him forward. His bolt slammed impotently into the dirt. He wasn’t getting back up soon and lay there moaning. The deer carcass tumbled a bit, not much the worse for wear. Couldn’t get any deader than headless.

Unfortunately for Bill the second crossbowman had ice water in his veins. He ignored his comrade’s plight and calmly loosed his quarrel. His aim was slightly off, striking Bill in his left forearm instead of the intended gut shot.

Bill stared numbly at the bolt piercing the meat of his forearm, shaft grating between the bones. The barbed head gleamed wetly with his blood on the underside of his arm, while the fletching twitched jauntily along to his thudding heartbeat from the other side.

Up to this point Bill had secretly been hoping his unnatural strength meant he might be magically invulnerable, safe from harm as he enjoyed his otherworldly vacation. The bolt sticking from his arm had crushed those fantasies as easily as it pierced his flesh.

“Fuck,” he said, and nodded. That seemed the appropriate response. His arm began to throb painfully, but his attention was taken up by his old friend Tullius, rushing him with a sword. Bill held his arm stiffly out to his side, ignoring the arrow and hoping it would just go away.

Waiting for Tullius to close, Bill skipped to the side, catching the wrist of Tullius’ sword arm, bringing him to a skidding halt. Tullius winced as Bill ground the bones of his wrist together and dropped his sword with a cry of pain. The last thing he saw was Bill’s forehead barreling toward his eyes. Tullius dropped to the ground with a thud, blood flowing from a broken nose. Bill scooped up the fallen sword with his good hand.

Now for that fucking crossbow guy, he thought.

Turning he saw the man straining to lock back the arms of the crossbow, pulling with all his might as it slowly bent and clicked into place. Just as he began sliding a new bolt home Bill flung the sword at him overhanded. It hit, but as he had never practiced at throwing swords, it cracked pommel first into his sternum. Seemed effective though; with a choking gasp the soldier dropped the crossbow, clutching at his chest as he fell to his knees.

Bill stalked forward and kicked the bow away. He thought about doing the same with the soldier but he seemed out of the game, gasping shallowly as he turned a slight shade of grey before flopping onto his back. Bill ignored him to check on Rekka.

She was just finishing with her second spearman, whipping him in the face with the butt of his own spear to send him crashing to the ground, dented helmet rolling away. The other was thrashing on the ground, screaming like a stuck pig with his own broken spear piercing his thigh. Not the pointy end, either. Apparently, she’d snapped it in half and used the broken splintery end, the spearhead waved in the air as he screamed and clutched at his thigh.

Rekka then turned her snarling attention onto Lord Flavius, who expertly worked his horse to keep her in sight, flashing hooves striking out at her while he prodded ineffectively at her nimble form with his heavy broadsword. Tiring of the game, Rekka crouched and leapt snarling into the air over the horse’s head slamming claws first into his breastplate. Her leap carried them both clear of his saddle, his broadsword falling in the opposite direction. They slammed into the dirt with a horrendous crashing of plate metal. Rekka growled and dug her claws into his breastplate, repeatedly slamming him into the dust until his helmet flew off and revealed he’d probably been knocked senseless since the fall. The horse clopped off a few feet and started nibbling at the foliage.

Rekka turned to Bill, seeing him she dazzled him with her beautiful smile as she stood. Bill started to call out to her when he heard a strange sound from the man Matius, who Bill had forgotten as he hadn’t seemed to be waving anything sharp about. Turning, he saw the man aiming a crude musket past him.

Heart skipping a beat, Bill turned to shout a warning to Rekka, seeing her with a self-assured grin on her face. She was padding forward with her head cocked to the side with curious interest. She obviously wondered what the silly stick was, currently centered on her chest.

The thunderous explosion whipped her head straight, her eyes flashing wide with shock, ears falling flat for protection. Bill’s cry of warning turned to horrified loss only to be cut short as she continued walking, unperturbed. He stared at her, uncomprehending, until Rekka laughed and pointed with her furry paw.

“The fuck he do that for? You think he meant for it ta’ happen?” she asked, her voice filled with humor.

Blood pounding in his ears, heart still hammering in his chest, Bill turned slowly to look at the musketeer.

The man’s face and hands were a bloody ruin, skin blackened with burns, flesh hanging in ribbons. What was left of Matius stood there swaying, mewling piteously. He’d lost his eyes, and most of his face and lower jaw. It was a horror as he gurgled and moaned, slowly waving his stumps before him. The remains of the musket were in two pieces, mostly. A cracked wooden stock and a warped, ruptured barrel the only recognizable bits. The thing had exploded, taking his hands and face with it.