All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!
"Don't we all look lovely?" Lillian was taking her suppertime promenade down the mirrored hall with Edith and Delores.
"Quite." Edith turned to check out her reflection. She was wearing her best dress, but she found the way her reflections rippled into infinity to be unsettling. They had just passed the Havershams' room when something stopped her in her tracks. Three shadowed figures dashed from the direction of the stairs. They moved in the most ungainly way, their joints swinging in impossible directions, their bodies bouncing side to side, their arms spread out like they were afraid they might fall. Edith heard Lillian scream. She saw the young woman turn and run the other direction. On her other side, Delores shrieked and ran. But Edith was petrified. She found she could do nothing more than stare at the approaching creatures. They appeared to be made of a dark liquid, with visible body parts floating and jostling just below the rainbow sheen on their surface.
"Oh ... gods!" Delores hammered her fists on the Havershams' door. The door opened only a fraction of an inch. It was barricaded on the inside. "Help! They're going to kill me!"
Roy woke with a start, sat up, and reached for his pistol. "Wake up beloved. The Zaals are about murder again!" He leapt from the bed wearing only his undershorts.
"What!?!" Constance rose from bed wearing nothing at all. She and her husband had been enjoying a post-coital afternoon nap. "What's happened?" She saw her husband tossing aside luggage and furniture from their barricade. Constance quickly threw on her nightgown and began pulling on her gloves.
"Oh ... gods ... they've got Ms. Pemberton!" Delores clawed at the gap in the door. When Roy moved the desk, the door gave, and she fell into their room.
"Never fear." Roy may have said the words, but his palms were clammy, and his pulse beat thunderclaps in his ears. He himself was terrified. He had been waiting for his opportunity to confront the murderous Zaals, but like many wishes, he regretted it now that the moment had arrived. Nevertheless, he hopped over Delores's prone form and entered the hall.
"They've got meeeeeee!" Edith was being dragged backward toward the stairs.
Roy raised his pistol and froze. These ... were not the Zaals. A chill went down his spine. He stared as three shadows retreated down the hall with Edith, one dragging the poor woman, the other two on either side. "Gods ... that thing ... is a nightmare." He remembered the black cloud in Ernest's eye.
These things must be working in league with the Zaals.
"What is it beloved?" Now that her gloves were in place, Constance raced out into the hall. She gasped when she stopped next to her husband and saw the scene. "Shoot, Roy, shoot! What are you waiting for!?!"
The arrival of his wife sharpened Roy's fortitude. He aimed and squeezed the trigger. With a hiss, the pistol fired. His bullet was true. It struck the creature hauling Edith in the head. The thing wobbled, made a hissing noise of its own, and exploded in a vile eruption of black goo and human body parts. Roy lowered his pistol, staring in horror.
Edith was covered in viscous, pitch sludge, but she was free. She crawled back toward the other survivors.
Ernest opened his door and peered out, sword in hand. When he saw what was happening, he raced toward the action. His unknotted tie whipped behind him like a miniature cape.
"Dad!" Lillian didn't know what else to say. She watched the terrible scene from behind the Havershams.
"Shoot the others!" Constance urged her husband. But he only stared at the horrific scene. "Roy ... the other two. They're grabbing Ms. Pemberton." Her voice was low and thick with horror. "Shoot." But even as she said it, the remaining creatures roughly grabbed Edith from either end, holding her by feet and shoulders. They seemed unable to coordinate their approach and moved forcefully in opposite directions. Edith screamed. There was the most gruesome, wet tearing sound, and suddenly each creature carried a bifurcated piece of the suddenly silent woman. The creatures quickly retreated toward the stairs.
Ernest ran after them, waving his sword wildly.
It was Lillian's turn to scream.
"Gods ..." Roy raised his pistol, but his hand was shaking too much. His gun hissed several more times, but the shots struck mirrored glass and not the creatures or Ernest. In an instant, those running were all gone around the corner to the stairs.
"It's okay." Constance turned, stepped over to Lillian, and hugged her close. That quieted the poor girl. Lillian whimpered in the much taller woman's arms. Constance looked over her shoulder at her husband. "You should have shot the other two."
Roy nodded his head. He couldn't help but agree.
"We should all have pistols," Constance said.
Roy nodded his head again.
~~
The dock on floor one-seventy-six was a bust. The lifeboat was exposed to vacuum, and there was no way for the Zaals to board or bring back its life support. So, after hours of frustration, they gave up and moved on.
Anna and George now approached the second possible escape vessel. Both Zaals were sweaty and winded from the fast-paced climb. "You really can't translate Océane anymore?" Anna had wanted the computer's help with the first ship, but George said he could no longer communicate with the hotel.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I just can't. Not even if I tried all night." George shook his head grimly. His translator, and girlfriend, had abandoned him.
"Well, maybe this vessel will be in good shape, and we won't need Océane's help." Anna gave him a sidelong glance. He was obfuscating about something with regard to the translation. She decided she would press him on it later. Maybe when her bare hands were on his penis, he'd be more forthcoming. She shivered at the memory of their time in the bathroom that morning.
"Let's find out." George eyed the lobby as they entered it. It was sleek and modern, with tall anthropogenic sculptures and glittering lights on the ceiling. Comfortable, high-backed armchairs were randomly disbursed about the floor, adjoined by small tables. "It's strange being in a large space like this with no one else." His voice echoed off distant walls.
"I know what you mean." Anna hushed her voice and moved closer to her son. She put her hand on the pommel of the sword she'd belted to her waist. Women didn't duel, so she'd never been taught to fence or to shoot a pistol. Because of that fact, they'd elected to have George be the only one to carry a sidearm on his belt. She glanced at the bulge on his side under his jacket. And they'd agreed to have her carry a short sword, just in case. It was less likely that she'd accidentally hurt George that way.
"Um ... excuse me." A high, melodious woman's voice greeted them out of nowhere. "Technically, there is someone else here." A short, slender woman rose from one of the chairs they'd just passed. They hadn't seen her because the high back had blocked their view. She wore her hair tightly pinned with a small, lacy hat. Her bodice, skirts, and gloves were azure, with delicate maritime embroidery. Her smile was tight and nervous as she moved to greet them. "Although, I must confess, I thought I'd never see another human soul in my life." She curtsied to the Zaals. "I'm Mrs. Gwendoline Valentine. How do you do?"
Anna was so shocked that she froze, putting her hand on her son's chest in a protective, maternal gesture. She felt his hand on her chest in a similarly protective way. She noted that he had quickly drawn his pistol. "She's not a shadow creature," Anna whispered. "Don't point that thing at her."
