Chapter Three
October 30th, 8:15 PM
She was running now, her arms pumping at her sides, turning corners of the maze with abandon, not caring where she was going, only focused on one thing.
"Black Bobcat!" Erin shouted into the sky. "Black Bobcat!"
She couldn't believe how rapidly this night had turned for the worse. It wasn't even an hour ago that they were first talking to the old man at the admissions stand. In that moment, Erin had felt almost giddy with Halloween excitement, and had no time for Margot's sulking. She could never imagine that they would be attacked from the maze itself. It was only through her superior fighting skills that Erin was able to fend off her opponents and resist abduction. Poor Margot never had a chance.
She had been sprinting for at least five minutes, and had seen nothing but corn. Corn, corn, corn, corn, corn-- only the massive white moon broke up its monotony. It was impossible to know if she was going further into the maze, or somehow coming out. She had thought briefly about cutting through the thickets with a Lynx Dart, but she had no idea could long or far she'd have to chop.
Her leg muscles were tiring, and she was just beginning to give up hope, when suddenly the maze ended. She turned left and was free of the corn, standing once more out in the open, feeling a rush of cool air on her exposed skin, and facing a dark, decrepit two-story house.
"Jesus," she thought, sucking oxygen into her lungs. With its high, thatched roofs, broken windows, and crumbling porch, the building looked like the perfect haunted house. And indeed, there was a painted wooden sign near the path leading to the front door that read, "SPOOK HOUSE." This was just another Randy's attraction-- a place for kids to go get a couple of cheap scares. And yet, Erin had little doubt in her mind that this was the place where the bad guys had taken Margot.
The wooden slats creaked ominously as Erin climbed the steps to the porch. The house seemed lifeless-- it seemed even hostile to life, somehow-- and the whole edifice threatened to crumble with every move the superheroine made. Erin noticed the front door slightly ajar, and didn't even bother with the handle, pushing the entrance open with the slight touch of her fingertips. The door let out an eerie whine as it revealed the house's black, cobwebbed first floor.
Erin stepped inside and held up her phone for light. She could see the low shapes of a long, moth-eaten couch, an ottoman, and a small dresser. It was a sitting room where no one would ever want to sit, and Erin hoped to leave it immediately. There were two ways out: a hallway on the back wall of the room, and a steep staircase leading to a second level. Erin was sneaking her way toward the hallway when she heard voices above her head. Gruff, male voices, in the middle of an intense conversation.
Erin turned around and began the ascent of the stairs. These steps were as worn and unreliable as the front porch, and the Blue Lynx had to remind herself to slow down to avoid making excessive noise. She had no idea how many men were on the second story, but if there were more than two, and they were as tough as the corn maze goons, she knew she couldn't take them on alone. The voices were becoming clearer now, and Erin recognized one of the drawls conclusively: it was the old man from the admissions stand. More than halfway up the flight, it was clear that he was the one leading the conversation, and that the other men with him-- Erin thought she heard two distinct voices-- were only chiming in when necessary.
With just a few steps to go, Erin was able to peer onto the second story landing, which took the form of a long hallway running to the back of the house. There were three doorways; the voices were coming from the open door furthest down the hall, where a small light cast the shadows of two standing figures across the wooden-slatted floor. Erin tested the boards with the toe of her boot-- CREEEEEEKKK-- and decided to crawl. As discreetly as she could, the superheroine dropped to her knees and elbows. She inched her way cautiously down the hall, passing the first, and then the second door, and finally stopping to the side of the last entrance. The voices had form and texture, now, and Erin pushed herself against the wall so that she could listen in more closely.
"So that's four, then."
It was the old man from the stand's voice.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, four girls."
Deep, dark, menacing drones. Erin didn't recognize them, but combined with the long shadows on the floor, they suggested big, powerful men.
"But, what about the fifth? I sent two."
"She was being taken care of."
"Oh, really? So where is she?"
"Ask the vampire and the zombie. They were handling her."
"Well, I can't ask them if they haven't returned, you imbecile."
Erin smirked to herself. So she was supposed to be "the fifth," huh? So much for that.
"Do you want us to... go find them?"
"YES, you idiots! Find them! And find the girl! The redhead is a catch. But the dark-haired one had the best ass I've ever seen."
A small chuckle. "The gods... appreciate that. A good ass."
Erin had to tell herself not to sigh out loud. Story of a superheroine's life, right here.
"Okay, okay, we'll find her."
"This is crucial, gentleman. The ritual requires five girls. FIVE. For every point."
The ritual? Every point? Just what exactly were these creeps planning? Erin didn't want to wait around to find out. She had to rescue Margot. But where...
She heard a creak, and then, the groan of steps on weak wooden floors. Erin flicked her head toward the staircase. Along the wall, two tall shadows were climbing-- two thugs were coming upstairs! Erin fell once more to her hands and knees and scrabbled quickly and quietly across the hall. She dove into the first open doorway, rolled to the side, and pressed herself against the wall. Seconds later, the men arrived on the second story. Their boots tortured the floor as they marched past Erin's new location and turned into the third and final room.
Erin exhaled and slumped against the wall. She was in a bedroom, now-- or something that was at one time a bedroom, anyway. The skinny, dilapidated frame for a full-sized mattress stood in the center, covered in dust. It was flanked on either side by two small, filthy tables. A single small window threw the moon's light across the floor, illuminating the bottom half of what seemed to be a closet door.
Erin blinked. Was that... a voice, she heard? Not the voices of the men... Something weaker, smaller, more afraid? Coming from... the closet?
She slunk over to the wall on her left and positioned herself in front of the door. She heard them more clearly now: muffled, female sounds, sounds of terror.
Erin gripped the bronze handle carefully and slowly opened the door...
She gasped.
She was looking into a small, unadorned room with concrete walls, empty but for the four young, attractive, bound-and-gagged women laying on the floor. Three of them-- two slender blondes, and a black woman with dark curly locks-- had been stripped to their underwear, the ropes cutting their ankles, thighs, wrists, and across their chests. The fourth girl, a cute redhead, wore something only slightly more modest: a skin-tight black-and-purple costume.
"Margot!" Erin whispered, stepping over to her friend and pulling the cloth gag down. "What happened?"
Margot let out a small cough. "They... I..." Her eyes could barely focus on Erin. She was dazed, somehow-- probably drugged. Her mask had been removed, along with her utility belt, gloves, and boots. Thick ropes fused her wrists behind her back and sealed her ankles together. Erin couldn't recall seeing her partner rendered so helpless. Whoever these guys were, they weren't messing around.
Erin gripped her friend by the shoulders. "It's okay, Margot. I'm gonna get you out of here." She took a quick look around the room. The other girls had been roused by her presence, and were squirming and moaning in their bonds. She'd have to free them, too, but she'd need the Black Bobcat's help. She reached around Margot's back and began working at the tight knots along her arms.
Margot looked up at her friend, her mouth gaping wide. "Err... Blue... Blue..."
"Hold on, Margot," Erin said, her fingers deep in the ropes. "I just need a minute."
Margot was shaking against her and groaning. "Blue... blue..."
"Just settle down, kid," Erin said. What was the matter with her? "Gimme just one more..."
Suddenly, a searing pain. Fat fingers gripping her scalp, grabbing thick locks of hair; a powerful hand pulling her up; a second hand pawing at her chest. Erin cried out as she was lifted from her knees and onto uncertain feet. She felt herself being pressed against a body much larger than her own, could hear the sounds of furious grunting in her ear, could smell the hot blasts of breath on the back of her neck. For a split second, she beheld Margot's face-- her partner's eyes wide, her mouth moving frantically. She had to make a move, fast.
The pair of rough hands held Erin tightly, but her feet were still free. Erin kicked her boots out. setting them against the closet's concrete wall, and pushed off. She and her assailant few back and out of the small room, where he stumbled and then tripped over something-- the bed frame?-- and fell backward. They collided against the floor-- it was hard to tell if the wheeze of pain came from the house, or from Erin's attacker-- and, suddenly, she was loose.
She sprang to her feet and turned in a circle. She was positioned in the middle of the floor-- in the center of the empty bed frame-- and there was a man standing near each corner of the room: the vampire from the corn maze (the zombie was the goon she had just toppled), a man in a demon mask, dressed in a loose fitting shawl, another man in a furry werewolf costume, and, closest to the door, the codger from the admissions stand-- Randy, she assumed.
"There, there, girl," the old man cooed, folding his arms. "Take it easy. We don't wanna hurt you now."
"I'd worry about yourselves if I was you," Erin said, turning around. "Do you even know who you're dealing with?"
The room was silent except for the shifting of feet on the creaky floor. It was... strange. Typically, the baddies would take this opportunity to have a laugh at the "little lady" who thought she could take down a bunch of big strong men. But other than Randy, who let out a single, hoarse chuckle, the costumed goons were eerily restrained.
"Your cute friend filled us in," Randy said. "Said you were some kind of superheroine. Said you'd show us no mercy. Said a whole lotta things to earn that gag... And those drugs we shot her up with."
Erin scowled, still twisting in a circle, waiting for someone to make a move. "I'm the Blue Lynx," she said, moving her hand to her belt, and searching for a smoke bomb, "and you guys are gonna pay for what you..."
Her speech was interrupted by powerful arms squeezing her thighs together. It was the zombie again, from his knees, trying to hold her in place. "Hey!" Erin shouted, chopping at the thug's head with the back of her hand. He grunted and lowered his face, but held on tightly to the superheroine. Erin winced as she slipped her fingers between the goon's arms and her legs and tried to push them apart. He wouldn't budge-- Erin just didn't have the leverage, standing awkwardly with her thighs practically glued together. But the goons were closing in-- she could see them gathering in the corner of her eye-- she had to do something!
"Taser!" she thought. In a flash, she unbuttoned the appropriate flap of her belt and removed the small but mighty weapon; seconds later, she drove it into the zombie's shoulder. The zombie moaned and-- finally!-- slackened his grip, allowing Erin to put her knee into his face. He crumpled just as the other goons were within striking distance.
Erin smiled. "You shouldn't take candy from strangers, boys. Didn't your mothers ever tell you?"
The Blue Lynx went to work. She spun around and lifted a boot into the werewolf's chest. She struck the vampire in the solar plexus with her palm. The demon's arms were suddenly around her neck, but Erin was ready, slipping her foot behind the villain's own and tripping him to the floor. The vampire came at her again; the Blue Lynx slid through his grip and attacked him from behind; two chops to his upper back sent him to his knees. She saw the werewolf recovering and lifted the taser once more. She tried to stick the weapon into the goon's arm, but this time, he got the upper hand, swatting the taser out of Erin's fingers. Erin gasped as the weapon sailed through the air and clattered against the wall. She ran to get it but was thwarted by a cruel hand snatching the back of her spandex outfit. She seemed to ricochet backward, and all at once found herself again in the tight grip of the zombie, his thick arms clamping across her chest.
"Unngh!" Erin cried, but she didn't panic. She'd been bearhugged by the zombie before-- she knew his weaknesses now. She lifted her foot in the air and prepared to bring it down upon her aggressor's toes...
"Grab her feet!" the zombie yelled. "Her feet!"
Like dogs obeying their master, the other goons sprang into action. In a second, the boots Erin had meant to smash down on the zombie were being lifted up into the air. The demon held her left leg, and the vampire held her right, and combined with the zombie firmly pinning the Blue Lynx's arms against her sides, the three goons were instantly, definitively in control. Erin grunted and twisted in their iron grip, but hovering four feet in the air, she knew that even her superior strength stood no chance. It pained her to admit it, but these costumed freaks had beaten her, in round two.
"Let's see you squeeze out of this one, girly," the zombie panted in her ear.
"Put me down, NOW," Erin intoned, still struggling in vain.
"Sorry, Blue Lynx," the old man said, clapping his hands and moving to the mass of warriors clustered in the center of the room. "But at Randy's place, Randy makes the rules."
The trio of thugs holding her shifted slightly so that she could face the old man, who was now just a few feet away, his hungry eyes climbing over every ridge of Erin's captive body.
"I wasn't sure if you was, in fact, the Blue Lynx," Randy said, lifting his wrinkled fingers to Erin's chin. "But after watching you fight, I'm sure of it."
"So your eyesight is still working, old man?" Erin spat, her mouth contorting near the old man's touch.
If Randy heard Erin's remark, he didn't acknowledge it in any way. "You will be a great tribute, yes sirree," he said, flicking away some of the dark hair sticking to Erin's sweat-lined face. "The mighty Blue Lynx will please the gods."
Erin frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Again, Randy ignored the comment. His fingers brushed Erin's cheek; she saw an evil glimmer appear in the old man's eye.
"Let's see if your face is as pretty as your friend's..." he sneered.
"No!" Erin yelped, sending herself into a full-body spasm, her arms and legs pumping furiously but, ultimately, ineffectually against the unyielding clutches of the goons. She had underrated these men-- they were coordinated, disciplined, and each with strength equivalent to hers-- and now, securely in their grasp, she could only register a few meek protests as Randy pushed his hand up Erin's temple, caught her blue mask and pulled it up, up, up... dragging it over her eyes, over the ridge of her brow, and finally pasting it against the forehead of the woman every thug in the room immediately recognized as...
"Erin Steele," Randy mused. "Wow."
Erin's face tensed up, caught somewhere in the middle of fuming indignation, paralyzing horror, and crushing embarrassment. She had hoped, foolishly, that somehow these country men would not recognize her-- that she'd be just another pretty girl, as anonymous as Margot and the other three young women stashed in the closet. Again, she had miscalculated-- again, she had underestimated them. And now, the Blue Lynx was a helpless prisoner of five creeps who knew her most intimate secret-- five men who seemed more than willing to use that secret against her, if push came to shove.
The torrent of thoughts in Erin's brain could find no articulate outlet-- she couldn't think of anything she could possibly say to improve her situation-- and instead came out in a few soft, wet sniffles.
Randy emitted a small chuckle. "Well I hope you said goodbye to your daddy," he said, holding out his index finger and spinning it in a circle. "Turn her."
Erin had lost the will to fight, and made no effort to counteract the goons twisting her around. She could only shiver as the men held her prone body sideways, so that her copious rear end faced the old man. Even her most basic reactions to the most obvious humiliations had been blunted, it was clear, when Randy pinched the spandex where her ass met her thigh and lifted, stretching the fabric up across her rump, revealing the orange, bat-bedecked panties she had worn for this occasion. "Halloween," she thought, drearily, as Randy pushed up her panties, too, stuffing them in the crack where he'd stashed her costume. She felt cold air on her bare skin, and then, cold fingers poking her, and then, at long last, the sharp point of pain that was the syringe being jabbed into her buttock. It was practically merciful, this concluding insult, and Erin sighed as her body fell limp in the men's arms, her once-proud superheroine figure becoming a slack, holiday mannequin.
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