Frenzy & Torch

Chapter 6: Visitors

Dich sprang to the ceiling like a cat and latched onto the chandelier. He screamed louder than the sandwich shop employee, sending shockwaves throughout the castle.

The warriors—all donning purple robes and chest armor—looked at each other and made their way upstairs, including the drunkards hanging around in the wine cellar.

"Goddammit, shut the fuck up!" Elizabeth roared.

Dich shut his mouth. "I didn't do it because you told me to. You two may be good, but let's see if you can handle hundreds of the best mercenaries from the north of Nordsten!"

Rather than panic or fumble, Annabelle looked at Elizabeth and said, "Please get this buffoon down from the ceiling. I'll handle this." She then walked out of the room and gently closed the door behind her, like she was going to the market.

Dich's stomach dropped like a stone. He knew right then and there that he and his men were screwed. "Shit."

The cobblestone hallway was narrow. On both sides, hordes of battle-hardened, bloodthirsty cultists congregated and charged the lone witch. Annabelle raised both hands to her sides, fully extended, and summoned gusts of wind that sent them flying into their comrades like dominoes.

"Everyone, calm down and listen. Your leader, Dich Hedd, has chosen a violent and unlawful approach to expressing his issues with the government. He will be promptly detained, and we will take his and your concerns into consideration. The rest of you can drop your weapons and leave."

"Bullshit!" one of the men yelled, pointing out a window. "There are watchmen right down there! They're going to drag us away and throw us in jail! You're trying to get us to surrender!"

How did they even—no time for questions. I just have to roll with it. Annabelle cleared her throat. "I don't know why they're here, but I didn't deliberately set this up. Please, drop your weapons. You don't want to do this."

"Our freedom means more than anything else!" yelled another hooded figure. "You won't take that from us!"

They all charged her simultaneously. Annabelle closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Come down from there!" Elizabeth yelled at Dich.

"No!" Dich said, in the tone of a stubborn child.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it by now. Stop making this harder than it needs to be. Get the hell down from there!"

Meanwhile, Annabelle parried a man's spear and stepped aside, letting his momentum send him crashing into his comrades. She struck a fourth in the nose with her palm—she heard the crunch, felt the spray—then followed with a spinning crescent kick. His torso folded over his legs as he dropped, knocked out cold. The rest of them knew their efforts were futile, but they didn't care. Annabelle jumped onto a spear thrust at her, grabbed it mid-air, and kicked the attacker in the abdomen. Now armed, she began stabbing people.

Elizabeth stared at the door. It sounded like pure pandemonium on the other side. She desperately wished she was out there, instead of dealing with this man-child who was now—somehow—sucking on a pacifier. He leapt down and spat it out. He now bore a look of confidence.

"Let's do this," he said, drawing his personal scimitar.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and gave him the most disappointed look imaginable. "Really?"

Dich lunged. Elizabeth slapped the sword from his hand, shattering his wrist.

"You fuggin' bitch, you broke my—"

His sentence was cut off as she grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall at subsonic speed. He flopped face-first onto the ground and lay motionless.