Story Code: (M/F, tentacle)
 
 

The police cars had finally stopped smoking by the time Maggie Danners reached the scene with her camerawoman. Broken glass and bits of twisted metal littered the street in front of the main city library as bits of paper blew from the gaping holes in the walls of the library. Smoke still swirled overhead, whipped by the rotors of a police helicopter circling overhead, although the fire department had managed to put out most of the fires burning in the street.

More police cars surrounded the eight story library at a cautious distance along with a couple of SWAT vans. Beyond the circle formed by the police, there was a circle of news vans in turn surrounded by a throng of eager onlookers.

“Get a shot of the library!” Maggie yelled as she looked around for the commander on scene. Her camera woman grunted and turned her NYU baseball cap around backwards as she panned over the library. Maggie spotted the grey haired police chief standing a few feet away talking with his lieutenants. “Sir!” she yelled. “Have the hostage takers given any demands yet?”

“Danners!” the chief snarled. “Get her out of here!” he yelled at two uniformed officers standing by an undamaged police car.

“The public has a right to know!” Maggie yelled as the uniforms tried to hustle her and Jen, her camera woman, behind the yellow police tape. Suddenly, an explosion burst from the top story of the library, sending broken glass and bits of concrete scattering into the street below. Maggie stared up at the building and smiled when the massive figure of the Pointman stood in the hole he had just blasted.

“Where’s my money, Russo?” the masked figure bellowed, his voice easily carrying into the street below.

“We’re working on it,” Police Chief Russo yelled back up through a megaphone. “Ten million is a lot of money.”

“I want it in half an hour or I start throwing out pieces of hostages!” the Pointman yelled. His field jacket flapped in the updraft from the burning debris below as he slapped his fist into his palm and grinned at the police. “And where’s my reporter?”

“We’re still working on it!” Russo yelled and paused. “Where’d Danners go?” Too late he spotted the reporter dashing across the rubble strewn street into the library’s main entrance.
 
 

Pointman smirked as he studied his hostages. A couple dozen men, women, and children who had the misfortune of attending the library’s story night. He scratched the side of his head with the muzzle of his rifle as he leered at one pretty young librarian.

“You spend all your time reading books?” he asked with a wide smile that exposed his row of steel teeth.

“N-o,” the librarian managed to stutter. She was huddled on the floor with the rest of the hostages doing her best to comfort the children.

“Then what do you do?” Pointman asked. “You know, in your free time. You got a boyfriend?”

“No,” the librarian said, regaining some of her composure.

“Ah, you’re a dyke, right? Bet you’ve never had a real man,” Pointman grunted as he ran a calloused hand through his short cut black hair. His smile widened when the librarian reddened and glared at him. “That’s fine with me, I like dykes. They’re nice and tight when you-”

“Shut up!” the librarian yelled. “There are children here! How dare you use that kind of language around them!”

Pointman froze for a moment as he struggled to comprehend what she was saying. Then he broke out into a loud, braying laugh. “Oh yeah, we’re going to have a lot of fun,” he said with a smirk. “The rest of you scrubs stay here, me and the librarian are going to check out some books.”
 
 

Maggie peeked around the corner of the hallway. She could have sworn she heard the harsh voice of Pointman and a woman’s scream just a moment before but now there was nothing. She motioned for Jen to follow her as she crept down through a door and into the children’s section. Waist high shelves did nothing to hide her or Jen as they looked around the open room.

To their left was the hole that Pointman had blasted and there- Maggie smiled at the thought of a scoop- were the hostages. One of them was making frantic motions over his head, pointing behind Maggie. She turned and saw an office with the shades drawn and the door open a crack. She motioned for Jen to follow as she crept forward and knelt by the door.

At first she couldn’t see anything, but then she made out the shape of the Pointman crouched over someone. Maggie saw a flash of someone’s leg and then heard the harsh sound of fabric tearing along with a muffled scream. She held her breath as she slowly eased the door open. Now she could see that the pointman had a young woman pinned to the desk. His massive fists were pawing at her breasts and he was almost drooling onto her.

“Yeah, you’re gonna enjoy this,” he was grunting as he worked her shredded blouse open. The woman was biting her lip so hard that it was bleeding in her attempt to stifle her screams.

“This is Instant Eight news on the scene with the famed terrorist, Pointman,” Maggie said as she pushed the door open. She flicked a quick smile of comfort to the woman and held out her microphone to Pointman. “Do you have a statement to make, Pointman?”

Pointman stared dumbly at her and Jen for a long moment before he jerked himself upright and turned towards them, his big hands smoothing his jacket back. “You’re the news crew I asked for?” he asked as he smiled cockily.

“Yes, I’m Maggie Danners with channel eight, we’re here to provide coverage,” Maggie said, carefully keeping her eyes on him while watching as the woman tried to cover herself.

“You interrupted my fun,” Pointman said somewhat petulantly. “But maybe we’ll have some fun later.”

The things I do for a story, Maggie thought.
 
 

“Stupid, stupid reporters!” snarled Russo. “Now he’s got another two hostages! I should have them all shot!”

“Sir,” said a lieutenant who was currently bucking for promotion. “You’re on the air.”

Russo’s face froze as he slowly turned his head to stare into the lenses of at least five cameras representing the local and some cable channels. He was about to make some sort of joke when he heard the noise. “What the hell is that?” he asked.

“Um,” the lieutenant said, “it sounds like a horse.”

“What? Do we have any mounted units out now?”

“Well sir, I-” Whatever the lieutenant was going to say was lost in the rapid clip-clop of horse’s hooves on cement and a loud “Tallyho!” as the horse jumped over him, knocking his hat off in the process. As he struggled back to his feet, the lieutenant caught a glimpse of shining armor and a streaming pennant as the horse and rider charged through the street and into the library.
 
 

“-so yeah, there I am, working for Uncle Sam, when I think, why am I working for peanuts? I mean, I could be earning seven figures as a freelancer,” Pointman was saying. Maggie kept what she called her “interview face” firmly in place as she nodded. “So that’s when I decide to go freelance. I pick up a contract from some dinky little country that I’ve never heard of, I can’t even find it on a map it’s so goddamn small. But they pay me one million just to snuff the president of some other fucking country that I can’t find on a map either. After I blow the scrub’s head off, I’m wondering, why the hell didn’t I think of this sooner? I mean, look at me. I’m bulletproof, flameproof, and I’m fucking good looking. Don’t I deserve more than fuckin’ hundred grand a year?”

Maggie nodded.

“Hey, you know, I can blow stuff up too. Watch,” Pointman said. He leaned back in the tiny chair that barely supported him and picked up a children’s book. He opened it and spat into it then shut it carefully. He was grinning like a kid with a bucket full of firecrackers as he threw the book at the wall. Maggie couldn’t help flinching when the wall exploded outward a rush of hot air poured over her. “Pretty damed good don’tcha think? They did something with my spit, it’s explosive once it leaves my mouth. So, you got a boy-” He was cut off by the ding of the elevator arriving. “What the hell?” he said.

Maggie turned towards the elevator and gaped when she saw the man on horseback ride out. He was dressed in a full set of shining armor complete with a pennant streaming from the tip of his lance. Behind her she heard several of the children cheering. She tried to see his face but it was hidden behind his visor.

“Foul villain, I have come to challenge thee to single combat on the field of battle. No more will I allow thee to harass and beleaguer these innocents,” the man on horseback said as he dismounted. Then Pointman shot him in the chest.

“What a fucking crazy,” Pointman said as he prodded the man with the muzzle of his rifle. “Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, you got a-” he began and stopped when he heard the jingle of the armored man getting to his feet.

“Foul blackguard, you use treacherous sorcery in your villainy,” the man said. “But no sorcerous powers can overcome a true knight errant!” Pointman began to swing his rifle up and there was a flash of light and the clinking of metal dropping to the industrial strength carpet.

“Fuckin shit,” Pointman muttered as he looked at the cleanly sliced barrel of his rifle. The knight was holding a long sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

“Come, villain, where is thy sword? Fight me in honorable combat!” the knight said.

“Fucking scrub,” Pointman said as he pulled a foot long combat knife from his belt. “I’ll fuckin’ combat you!” he yelled and leapt forward, attempting to force the knight back with his bulk and weight.

Maggie heard the sound of metal on metal as the two blades clashed then Pointman screamed and staggered back holding his bleeding right hand. The knight had cleanly stabbed him through the palm and had kicked his knife away from him.

“Do you yield, villain?” the knight asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I yield,” Pointman muttered as he half crouched cradling his bleeding hand. The knight sheathed his sword and stepped forward as Maggie saw the Pointman spit onto a book.

“Look out!” yelled the librarian as she threw one of the small children’s chairs at Pointman. Maggie and Jen dove for cover as Pointman staggered and dropped the book at his feet.

“Oh fuc-” they heard and then the roar of an explosion. When they looked up they saw the smoking body of Pointman lying on his back and groaning in pain. All his facial hair was gone and he was still smoking.

“Your foul magics have turned against you, sorceror,” the knight said and coughed. He waved a gauntleted hand in front of his face to clear the air and brushed some soot from his armor.

“Fair lady, thank you for your help,” he said to the librarian. “Oh! But it is you, Dulcinea! How did you come to be here?”

“Dulcinea?” the librarian said. “No, my name is Elena, Elena Willows.”

“I see, you were visiting the lord of this castle when this villain attacked. But where is the lord?” the knight continued, apparently without hearing the librarian.

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Jen asked Maggie out of the corner of her mouth.

“You know these superheroes, they’ve all got a gimmick,” Maggie said.

“What? So this one is insane? That’s his gimmick?”

“Just keep shooting.”
 
 

“I’m sorry I was late,” Quicksilver said as she landed beside Police Chief Russo. “The Shadow Emperor tried to rob the museum.”

“It’s no problem, Quicksilver,” Russo said as he glanced over at her. He did his best to keep from ogling the young woman, but it was hard. She was the poster child for superheroines.
Tall, athletic, and with a body to kill for. Her silver hair flashed in the lights of the police cars and Russo bit his lip when he saw her cloak blow aside in a helicopter’s downdraft, revealing her silver bodysuit. The bodysuit did nothing to hide her body’s curves and Russo knew that he’d be thinking of her instead of his wife when he went home. “Some new superhero showed up and took care of Pointman. We’re hauling him off now.” Russo jerked his thumb to the SWAT team hauling Pointman away in five point restraints.

“A new hero?” Quicksilver said as she pushed her goggles onto her forehead and ran a hand through her hair, inspiring the fevered imaginations of dozens of police officers.

“Yeah, some loony in armor.”

“There’s someone else with a suit of powerarmor?” Quicksilver said. The military kept a close eye on its small supply of mechanized armor troopers. Only one had ever succeeded in stealing his armor and becoming a villain. He hadn’t lasted long, the armor required too many things which only the military could provide. Ammo for one thing.

“No, he looks like a knight. There he is,” Russo said as he pointed towards a ambulance. The knight was standing solicitously by a woman dressed in torn clothing. The woman was being checked out by the paramedics.

“I’ll go talk to him, it’s always nice to have a new hero in town.”

“Well, get him to come by One Police Plaza and fill out his papers. I hate these new guys who think they can just put on a mask and break heads. We don’t like vigilantes in New York.”

“I’ll do that, Chief,” Quicksilver said and walked over towards the ambulance.

“My lady, how fares thee?” Quicksilver heard the knight saying.

“I’m fine,” the woman in torn clothing said.

“Hello there,” Quicksilver said as she walked over. The paramedic glanced up and gaped, nudging his partner in the ribs as they both admired her. She sighed to herself and ignored them. “I guess you’re the new hero in town,” she said to the ‘knight’.  She peered at the visor of his helmet and tried to see his eyes.  Even to her sharp eyesight his features were a mystery.

“My lady, I am no hero. I am merely a knight errant traveling the world and righting wrong,” the knight said. “Are you the lady of this castle?” he asked, gesturing to the library.

“Err, no, I guess that would be the head librarian. I’m Quicksilver,” she said, as if anyone wouldn’t know who she was.

“Lady Quicksilver, it is my pleasure to meet you. But I must be off, there is much evil still to be defeated,” the knight said. “Would you please be so kind as to grant me one favor?”

“I-er, what?” Quicksilver said.

“Would you please escort the Lady Dulcinea back to her manor?”

“Sure,” Quicksilver said with a glance over her shoulder, “listen, Chief Russo-” She paused and glanced around the busy street. Police cruisers were parked all over the place, no one on horseback could have gotten away in the second that she had her head turned. But the knight was gone without a trace.

“Oh,” she heard the librarian say softly.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Elena said as she hid a yellowed page behind her blanket. In her mind she could still see the title printed at the upper right corner of the page. “Don Quixote,” she whispered and smiled.
 
 

“He is what?” the voice said said from the reddish darkness that covered the throne. Mettrem trembled and pressed his forehead harder against the warm marble of the floor.

“He was captured, o lord,” he said in a quavering voice.

“How many did he kill?” the voice said. Even though his face was pressed to the floor, Mettrem could swear he felt the darkness around the throne moving. He closed his eyes and felt the sweat gathering on the tip of his blunt nose.

“N-none, o lord,” Mettrem managed to answer. He heard a woman’s soft moan of pleasure and opened his eyes again. They slid sideways and he could see one of the Voice’s concubines writhing on a low couch. The woman was naked except for a pair of lacy white stockings, her body slick with sweat and other liquids.

“None?” the voice hissed. Mettrem had to fight to keep from relieving himself in his pants. Whenever the voice used that tone someone was sure to die.

“None, o lord,” Mettem whimpered.

“Why? Who stopped him? Was it that meddling Bladedancer? Or that woman, Quicksilver?” the voice demanded. The woman gasped and Mettrem saw her hips jerking rapidly towards the darkness. Her body turned and he could see her face and hair. She was blonde and very beautiful, with high cheek bones and a tan complexion.

“No, o lord, it was a new hero. No one knows who he is.”

There was a long silence while Mettrem quivered on the floor, his stomach churning.

“Begone, Mettrem,” the voice said.

Mettrem scuttled backward, his forehead dragging along the floor. He breathed a sigh of relief as the swirling colors of the portal closed around him and left him in his penthouse apartment. Something had attracted the voice’s interest and he was pathetically grateful that it wasn’t him. He hurriedly took the mop and bucket and began to scrub the chalk outline from the hardwood floor, Cybil would kill him if she found them.

The Voice turned its attention back to the concubine. She had crawled over to his throne and was sucking hungrily on one of his tentacles. The Voice watched her for a moment and reached out with a clawed hand to stroke her soft hair. She moaned sharply as another tentacle wrapped around her thigh and plunged into her dripping quim. The Voice leaned back in his throne and lifted the woman onto his lap. He licked the sweat from her neck and plunged his tentacles deeper into her body. She moaned in rapture, her eyes fluttering as the tentacle in her quim speeded its thrusts. The Voice licked the stiff nipples jutting from her chest and ran his sharp teeth over the sides.

The woman was gasping loudly now, her hands stroking the tentacle in her mouth furiously. Greenish-white slime dripped down her chin and splattered on the pale skin of her full breasts. The Voice watched as the woman began to hump herself up and down the tentacle in her quim, her breasts bouncing in time with her motions. He ran one hand along the curve of her spine and reached up to stroke her hair as he came in her mouth. The come filled her mouth despite her best efforts and spilled across her face until the Voice pulled the tentacle out and splashed a last jet of his seed across her cheek.

He watched as the woman fell forward onto his chest, her face rapt with joy as the tentacle in her quim came and shot its seed deep into her. She smiled and stroked the Voice’s chest, her hands still sticky with come.

“You please me,” the Voice said, for a moment distracted from the cares of the world.