Chapter X: Lilian and Many, Many Demons

Midnight. The sisters entered the castle through the tower window, gliding down to land lightly on the floor where they deposited Lilian in a taffeta, silk and satin heap. Lilian’s legs were like rubber, but somehow he managed to crawl from the Sirens, stand, and run, straight into the arms of Count Dodrescu.

“There is no need for fear,” said the Count, holding and comforting Lilian. “Shed no more tears, pretty one. No one here will harm you.”

Lilian knew this wasn’t true, but he wanted to believe it and was powerless to do otherwise, so he took comfort in the strong, reassuring arms of the Count.  Lilian wrapped his arms around the Count’s neck, as if he were holding onto a life preserver in a storm.

“Do you see?” said Dodrescu reassuringly as he led Lilian across the floor to the center of the large, circular room. “You are perfectly safe here.”

Lilian began to calm down, and loosened his grip on the Count as they walked together. In the center of the room was a circular board, an old table top, except it was hanging vertically from the ceiling by sturdy chains. Lilian looked at it curiously, wondering what its purpose might be when Dodrescu grabbed him by the arm, lifting him off the floor and chaining his wrist to the top of the table.

Lilian was taken completely by surprise. He tried to reach for the shackle with his free hand, but Dodrescu grabbed it and soon had it pinned to the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?” Lilian shrieked. “You said I was perfectly safe!”

“I apologize for that,” said Dodrescu, crossing to the side of the room where a number of chains hung from the ceiling. He selected one, unwrapping it from the post which held it. “It may be that I exaggerated somewhat when I said you were ‘perfectly’ safe!”

Dodrescu pulled the chain, hand over hand, and Lilian yelped as he felt the table lift from the floor. His feet now dangled as he hung from his tightly secured wrists. Ilinca and Daciana then approached him, each grabbing a leg and spreading them wide, securing his ankles to the table with metal clamps and chains similar to those which fastened his wrists.

“Here, let me fix your pretty dress,” said Ilinca. She straightened Lilian’s dress, and fixed it at his knees as best she could with his legs spread wide. Meanwhile Daciana fixed a wide leather belt around Lilian’s waist, securing him tightly to the table top.

“Why are you doing this?” cried Lilian, now completely helpless. Ilinca had found a comb, and was attempting to fix his hair which had been blown about rather badly on their flight.

Dodrescu secured the chain to its post once more. “Believe me, the chains are for your own security. You will understand very soon.”

Dodrescu approached Lilian, now helplessly bound. As he crossed the floor he pulled out a small, razor-sharp knife. Lilian stared in horror as Dodrescu approached, but the Count did not use the knife to kill him. Instead he made a small nick in each of Lilian’s wrists, then his ankles, and a tiny cut below his ear. A small trickle of blood dripped from each wound as Dodrescu returned to the chains at the side of the room.

Dodrescu selected another chain, and pulled on it. Lilian screamed as his feet were raised, and he found himself hanging from the underside of the table facing the floor from a height of about five feet. Ilinca continued to work on fixing his hair.

Dodrescu approached the table again. Reaching into his pocket he removed the tooth, the relic of his beloved Mirela. Kissing it one last time, he placed it in the center of the table.

“Satanas Luciferi Excelsi, servo is viator, vestri humilis vernula,” Dodrescu said reverently. “Satan protect this traveler, your humble servant.” He turned, and walked back to the side of the tower where he selected another chain and unwrapped it from its post.

Daciana saw her opportunity, while the Count was preoccupied with his back turned. She opened the locket she now wore around her neck and removed the small, bound lock of Anna’s hair from within. Pulling the hair from its ribbon, she scattered it across the table where the tiny, thin hairs were completely unnoticeable.

“Satanas Luciferi Excelsi, servo is viator, vestri humilis vernula,” she pleaded under her breath, while quickly making the sign of a pentagram from her bowed forehead to her chest.

Lilian shrieked as the heavy table suddenly jerked upward, fearing it was falling and would crush him underneath! Dodrescu pulled the chain hand over hand and lifted Lilian to a height of twelve feet off the floor, then tied off the chains once again. Ilinca worked on Lilian’s hair as long as she could until he was out of her reach.

“Do not worry about your hair,” Ilinca called up to him. “It is now very beautiful!”

Lilian swung below the table from his short chains, high above the stone floor of the tower. From this vantage he could finally see everything in the room and began to understand some of what was happening to him. On the floor directly below him was painted a large circle, and within the circle was a five-pointed star, a pentagram. The entire diagram was covered with strange symbols Lilian couldn’t begin to interpret.

The shallow cuts Dodrescu had made were small and would quickly heal on their own, but for now blood continued to trickle. A small drop fell from Lilian’s left wrist, landing in the upper left section of the pentagram. The cut from his ear caused a trickle which ran down his chin, where a single drop then fell and splashed in the pattern below. Soon, each of the five corners of the pentagram held a drop of Lilian’s blood.

Dodrescu approached the center of the room once more, looking up to where Lilian struggled above.

“Patefacio, prodigium, ut diabolus regnum!” he called out into the stillness of the night. “Open the portal to the realm of Satan!”

Ilinca and Daciana joined Dodrescu around the circle, all three looking up at Lilian as they continued to chant, “Patefacio prodigium ut diabolus regnum!”

Lilian looked on in horror, barely able to comprehend what was happening. Then he noticed something – one of the drops of his blood on the floor below had begun to smoulder. Soon every drop of blood within the pentagram was steaming, boiling, and eating through the stone floor like acid.

The floor within the circle below Lilian began to swirl and bubble, a tremendous heat coming from it. Dodrescu and the Sirens continued to chant, but backed away to a safer distance.

Lilian screamed as the floor within the circle finally collapsed, caving in and falling while a wave of heat was released from below. The heat forced Lilian to shut his eyes, but he screamed again when he opened them and saw what had replaced the floor.

The pentagram and the circle of floor which held it were gone. In their place Lilian found himself suspended above a deep well, its sides lined with stone, at least fifty feet deep. At the bottom of the well was a bubbling, boiling surface of noxious gases. Lilian screamed again as a hand emerged from the gases, grasping the stones, lifting itself upward.

A howling wind blew down the well, pulling at everything in the tower including Dodrescu and the Sirens, who had to remain flat on the floor to resist being pulled into the hole. Lilian’s dress and hair were pulled in the maelstrom, but the chains that bound him prevented him from being drawn in.

Dodrescu crawled to the edge of the well, then laughed joyously as he looked down and saw the demonic creature climbing the walls within.

“It is Mirela!” he shouted over the howling winds as he immediately recognized the demon soul of his beloved. He rolled onto his back, and called up to Lilian, “Have no fear, pretty one! Death will be quick and painless for you. But in a way, you shall live forever as my Mirela takes possession of your beautiful, young corpse! Happy wedding day, my bride!”

Ilinca and Daciana crawled to the hole and peered within. They lay together, holding onto one another, trying to avoid being swept over the edge by the winds.

“Where is Anna?” shouted Ilinca, although over the wind no one but Daciana could possibly have heard.

“I do not know,” Daciana told her. Then, from the swirling gases of Hell she saw another hand emerge. “Wait, there she is!”

What emerged from the yellowish, roiling haze was little more than the bones of a rotting corpse, yet somehow they knew it was Anna. She paused at the bottom, confused, and moved no further.

“Climb! You must climb!” Daciana called down to her. Anna’s corpse searched in confusion for the voice. Still bewildered she began slowly to climb, but Mirela was well ahead of her.

“Why is she not blown back by the winds?” Ilinca yelled.

“The winds will not affect her,” shouted Dodrescu, assuming Ilinca spoke of Mirela. He had not even noticed that another demon now climbed the stone walls. “She is protected by the relic, her tooth, on the top of the table, and this supports her. But she must still climb!”

“Climb, please climb!” Ilinca pleaded to her sister.

Mirela was already half way to the top, while Anna had barely begun. Anna stopped, having climbed no more than five feet, and howled a cry of pure agony. Then she laughed, and cried, and howled in pain again. The pathetic bones and rotting flesh which was their sister Anna was clearly insane after three hundred years in Hell.

“Please, please…” sobbed Ilinca, watching her sister.

The opening of portals to Hell is not an exact science. While one can expect to maintain some control over a portal opened for one single small demon, a portal large enough for two is large enough to allow anything through. Daciana was startled as she saw a huge, muscular arm appear out of the roiling mist below her sister Anna.

The creature that emerged was enormous, easily eight feet tall with the head of a bull and the muscular body of an Olympian God. The three-foot long horns that protruded from his brow seemed an unnecessary addition to what was obviously already the perfect killing machine. It had no protection against the howling winds, and yet it seemed to need none as it easily began its ascent.

Anna clung to the wall, sobbing, moving no higher. She happened to glance upward, and saw the faces of Daciana and Ilinca, her sisters. Whether she recognized them, they couldn’t tell. What they could tell was that she quickly looked past them, focusing on Lilian, suspended at the top of the tall well. She stopped crying, and looked peaceful for a moment. Then with a smile she spoke one word:

“Pretty.”

Within a moment the creature had caught up with Anna, and with a single swipe of its massive forearm it knocked her aside. Anna was sent flying across the width of the well, smacking into the stone of the other side. Every fragile bone was shattered from the force of the collision and the pieces rained down, falling back into the murky depths.

“NO!” screamed Ilinca, realizing that Anna was gone again, this time forever. Anna would not live on, even in Hell, after that blow. Still, Daciana had to hold Ilinca back from hurling herself into the pit after her sister.

The Minotaur easily scaled the stone walls of the well, passing Mirela on the opposite side and therefore not interfering with her climb. He emerged on the same side as the two sisters and looked down where they huddled at his feet, but decided to ignore them. Instead he looked up.

Lilian, strapped to the table and helpless, watched the Minotaur as it looked up at him. It was difficult to judge the facial expression of a bull, but Lilian decided that ‘perpetually angry’ would be a good guess. He couldn’t help thinking that the Minotaur would likely get on very well with Mr. Dilworth. The creature reached up, and Lilian screamed.

The Minotaur grabbed one of the manacles chaining Lilian to the table and pulled. The thick iron shackle and chain were too strong to break, but the creature’s strength easily fractured the ancient wooden table, splintering off the section which secured Lilian’s wrist. Lilian screamed again as he began to swing, one arm dangling, the chunk of table chained to it pulling him toward the Hellgate. The Minotaur reached for Lilian’s second shackled wrist.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” shouted Dodrescu. He was on his feet, ignoring the hurricane winds as he circled the pit and leapt upon the Minotaur. The two demons pitted their raw strength against each other as the sisters rolled to stay out from under their feet below, and Lilian flailed with his one loose arm above.

Lilian looked down the length of his long, naked arm, beyond the shackle and length of chain and the splintered piece of table attached to it. Lilian looked into the pit, and felt compelled to let the sisters know what he saw.

“Um, guys,” he said, unsure exactly how to address the Sirens. “Is that what you were expecting?”

^..^     ^..^     ^..^

Daciana followed the length of Lilian’s arm to where his beautifully manicured nails pointed, and saw a struggling mass of demons. They lined the walls, fighting amongst each other, climbing over each other, knocking each other back to where more arms reached from the roiling masses below. None was the size of the Minotaur, but some were ascending quite quickly none the less.

“Ilinca, snap out of it!” yelled Daciana, finding her sister overwhelmed and paralyzed from the loss of Anna. “She is gone, and there is nothing we can do about that! We need to stop them! We must find a weapon to push them back.” Ilinca was slow to react but soon crawled away to see what she could find, trying to avoid being blown into the pit by the howling winds or trampled by the raging battle between Dodrescu and the Minotaur.

Lilian knew this might be his only chance to escape. While each of his captors was busy fighting their own personal demons, Lilian had one hand free. Even with the length of chain and the heavy piece of table attached to it, Lilian was able to reach up to his remaining shackled wrist. The shackles did not lock - they had a simple pin that held them closed. Lilian removed the pin and the manacle opened easily, immediately releasing him.

And Lilian immediately regretted doing so, as he no longer had any means of support above the waist. He was still shackled at the ankles, and strapped to the underside of the table by the wide belt around his waist, but without his wrists chained to the table he was now bent over, head down. Worse, he couldn’t reach his feet to free them, and undoing the belt was out of the question as this would leave him swinging upside down by his chained ankles.

Ilinca returned to the pit, having retrieved two of the original four legs of the table Lilian was now strapped beneath, which had been discarded at the side of the room. She handed one to Daciana, just in time for her to use it as a club to knock back a demon that had climbed over the edge. The demon flew back into the pit, pushed by the winds and knocking several other demons from the walls as he fell, taking them back to Hell with him.

And then suddenly she was there. Mirela stood above the two Sirens, glaring down at them as they continued to swing and shove at the various monstrosities that emerged from the pit. Possibly no one but another demon would ever have recognized her. She was in her true demon form, a squat three-foot tall being with greenish-gray skin the same texture as a frog’s, but she had a certain Mirela-ness that was unmistakable once it had been pointed out to you.

“Oh, hello Mirela!” said Ilinca innocently from where she lay beside the pit as she noticed her former mistress. “You are back. Be careful, it is very windy.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a problem for me, thank you Ilinca,” Mirela responded without emotion, looking down at the Sirens. Then she looked up, where Lilian was still securely chained above. Mirela floated up where she could see her captive more closely, unaffected by the raging winds. Looking Lilian over she asked, “So, is this for me?”

Ilinca and Daciana were now on opposite sides of the well, fighting off the creatures as they appeared over the edge. They still had to lie flat, or risk being blown into the Hellhole. Ilinca looked up. “Yes, I think she’s pretty. Do you like her?”

Mirela looked Lilian in the eyes as he hung upside-down before her. “She’ll do to kill the two of you,” she replied.

The battle between Dodrescu and the Minotaur raged on, around the outside edges of the room. Neither had any protection against the winds and so they had to fight to keep their balance as they continued to fight each other. The Minotaur was by far the larger of the combatants, but Dodrescu fought with skill and a passion borne of his love for Mirela. Love and passion can only carry one so far against raw physical power however, and the Count was weakening. The Minotaur dealt Dodrescu a savage blow which sent him reeling. He then pressed his advantage, lifting the Count and throwing him across the room.

The Count fell amongst the panel of chains, knocking out one of the pins. The chain it had held shot toward the ceiling, the Count reaching for it too late. Then the Minotaur was upon him again.

The table shifted, then one end dropped. Lilian found his head was now decidedly lower than his feet as the table canted at an angle. Lilian let out a yelp, and Mirela laughed at his distress. Meanwhile, on top of the table, a single, ancient tooth began to slide.

Floating in front of Lilian, Mirela reached out, placing her hands on his temples. “Vestri corpus est meus corpus,” she said as she floated before him, an unnatural smile on her unnatural green-gray face. “Your body is my body!”

“Lilian, you need to resist!” Daciana yelled, taking just a moment away from fighting the hordes that were reaching the surface now with great regularity.

Lilian wanted to resist, but he didn’t know how! He could feel Mirela entering his mind, taking over. It felt like cold, steel hooks reaching into his brain, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The tooth slid slowly down the angled table top. It hit a small imperfection in the surface, and flipped, then rolled, then picked up speed and skittered the length of the table. It slowed to a stop just at the edge, balanced precariously, as the universe made its decision. But at least two of the Fates were on Lilian’s side…

“Ow,” said one of the demons climbing the walls of the pit. “Hey, who’s throwing teeth? Stop that - someone’s going to lose an eye!”

Mirela screamed. Without the tooth anchoring her in this world the winds suddenly grabbed hold of her, dragging her down toward the pit of demons. She lost her hold on Lilian’s mind, but instinctively reached out to find something else to grab onto. Mirela scrambled, and found when she stopped that she had a tenuous grip on the end of the wide belt which held Lilian to the table.

Mirela’s weight pulled on the belt, loosening the clasp and releasing it from the hole which fastened it. But Mirela couldn’t hold on as her fingertip-grip slipped and she fell toward the Hellhole, the belt buckle managing to refasten as her weight was released.

Lilian felt a sharp pull on his arm. Looking down, he saw that Mirela had managed to grab onto the splintered board chained to his wrist. He fumbled for the pin to release the shackle, but he was too late. Before he could manage to pull the pin Mirela had climbed the chain, then Lilian’s arm, and was once again staring him upside-down in the face, her arms wrapped tight around his neck.

“Vestri corpus est meus corpus,” she repeated, her horrible teeth bared in anger. Lilian could do nothing to stop her. Mirela re-entered his mind, taking control of his body, taking control of his thoughts.

“Do you like the body, Mirela?” Daciana taunted as she knocked another demon from the edge. “We chose it just for you!”

“You won’t distract me, Daciana,” said Mirela - and Lilian - together. The two turned as one to look at Daciana and continued, saying, “Soon this body shall be mine, and the two of you will be at the bottom of this pit where you belong!”

“That is fine,” Daciana yelled to her over the winds. “I just thought you should know, it’s been a few hours so she may be in need of a shave!”

Mirela - and Lilian - sneered defiantly at Daciana. But then Mirela thought about what Daciana had just said, and a look of uncertainty crossed their faces. Lilian’s hands slowly reached up and felt his own chin, then his chest, and Mirela’s uncertainty turned to a look of horrible realization.

Mirela knew the truth about Lilian, and she was shocked out of his mind. Her mental grip on Lilian was gone, and her physical grip on his neck loosened as she stared at him in disbelief. Lilian shook his head as he found his thoughts to once more be his own. Finding his arms also responding to his will, Lilian picked up the piece of table attached to his wrist and hit Mirela with it.

Mirela reached up to protect herself from the blows raining down upon her. Unfortunately this meant releasing her grip around Lilian’s neck, leaving her with no means of support against the gale force winds pulling her through the Hellgate.

Mirela shrieked as she slipped, but once again managed to grab hold of the belt strapping Lilian to the table, again loosening the clasp. Lilian got in one more blow, sending Mirela spinning into the maelstrom, striking the sides of the well and taking several demonic creatures with her in her descent into Hell.

Lilian had enough time to breathe a sigh of relief before the clasp on the belt gave way completely, releasing him from the table. He screamed as he fell, following Mirela into the Hellgate, until the chains around his ankles pulled him up short. He swung over the Hellgate upside-down, the billowing skirts of his dress falling over his face and obscuring his vision of everything except the portal below, and the approaching army of demons.

The battle between Dodrescu and the Minotaur raged on even as Dodrescu tired, ever on the defensive against his unrelenting opponent. Blow after crushing blow rained down upon him, any one of which would have shattered a normal human, but not even a demon could suffer such punishment indefinitely. Dodrescu staggered around the tower, no longer able to put up the most meagre defence. The Minotaur pressed him ever closer to the pit, with every intention to toss him in. Then suddenly and without warning, a white taffeta blur swung between the two combatants.

Lilian screamed as he swung upside-down, his skirt around his arms and face, blinding him to everything going on around him. Suddenly a long, sharp horn pierced the skirt, crossing in front of Lilian’s face. He screamed.

Lilian continued to scream as he attempted to avoid the Minotaur’s horn that darted around the inside of the dress, hopelessly entangled in the ruffles. He ducked, and swung, and pushed and grabbed the horn in his attempt to avoid being pierced.

Dodrescu saw his chance. The Minotaur was distracted, partially blinded by the ruffles wrapped around his horns. Dodrescu gathered what strength he had remaining and attacked the monster.

The Minotaur staggered back under the unexpected attack, on the defensive for the first time in the battle. Lilian’s skirt ripped off, hopelessly entangled around the Minotaur’s horns, draping down across the monster’s face and completely blinding him to Dodrescu’s blows.

Now it was the Minotaur being forced back toward the pit. Daciana rolled to stay out of his way, seeing the massive demon stumbling above her. Infuriated by his situation, the Minotaur lashed out at the Siren, kicking at her as she rolled beneath him. Then suddenly Lilian’s skirt fell loose, blown by the wind into the pit, allowing the Minotaur to see once more.

This was Dodrescu’s last chance. The Minotaur was off-balance as he kicked at the Siren. Dodrescu leapt up, grabbing the bull by the horn, pulling down and twisting the Minotaur off his feet. The beast toppled backward into the pit, dragging every demon in his way down with him.

Dodrescu stood at the edge of the pit, staring down, defying Hell’s raging winds to move him from this world. “Satanas Luciferi Excelsi, propinquus is porta ut abyssus!” shouted Dodrescu, and with those words the winds ceased and the portal closed, replaced by a circle of stone. The only thing that might indicate the Hellgate had ever existed was the table leg embedded on an angle in the floor.

Dodrescu was basking in his moment of triumph, until he noticed Lilian still swinging above the floor. He rushed to him, then steadied him and called out, “Quickly! Lower her!”

Daciana and Ilinca picked themselves up from the floor and ran to the panel of chains. There they selected one, and together used it to lower Lilian into the Count’s waiting arms. When the table reached the floor he pulled the pins from the shackles on Lilian’s ankles, releasing him and standing him upright. He pulled the pin from his wrist shackle as well, tossing the medieval device to the side of the room before embracing Lilian as if he would never let him go.

“Mirela!” he cried. “Mirela is it you? Please tell me, is it really you?”

Lilian looked past the Count to where Daciana and Ilinca stood, watching them. Daciana was mouthing the words, “Yes! Say, yes!” while Ilinca nodded her head and bit her lower lip anxiously.

“Um, yes,” said Lilian, recognizing a good idea when he heard it.

The Count swung him around the room in his joy. “Thank the moon and stars!” he called out. “Mirela, my love! I knew it was you!”

Dodrescu tossed Lilian into the air with a laugh, then caught him and set him gently on his feet. He stared into his eyes with pure joy, but then turned to face the two Sirens.

“And what shall we do with these two?” asked the Count, suddenly very serious. “These two, who stood by while you burned?”

“Oh!” said Lilian in surprise, not expecting to be given the power of life and death over two of his tormenters. Of course, as tormenters go they weren’t the worst he could imagine. For example, he could imagine what would happen if his homicidal vampire husband discovered that his new bride was not his lost love, but was in fact a cross-dressing phony.

“Well,” Lilian swallowed before continuing. “I guess, you know, they’re not so bad, really.” Lilian decided the best idea would be to change the subject. “Hey listen, this is great, except, I sort of lost my clothes. Maybe I could, you know, go find something to wear, and we can have this reunion later? Right?”

Dodrescu seemed to realize for the first time that Lilian was wearing nothing but a halter bra and panties, together with the tattered remnants of the top half of the wedding gown.

“Of course, my love!” he apologized. “How thoughtless of me. Please, you must rest, and we shall reunite when you have recovered from your ordeal.”

Lilian left the tower by the inner door, accompanied by Daciana and Ilinca. When they were gone the Count stamped on the circle where his battle had been won, and howled in victory.

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A/N: Wow, I hope that was as exciting to read as it was to write! This chapter is about twice as long as most, but I just couldn't split it in two. I just couldn't leave Lilian 'hanging' for another week!

Tune in next week for the epilogue. And please check out Bride of the Wolf, another story of lives gone very, very wrong in modern Transylvania!