A Victorian Tale Part 13

Chapter 13 (Dnkstar) “How…could…this …happen?!?” he annunciated each word one-by-one, with a hiss. “How could you allow this to happen?!? He glared back and forth between the sisters. “Please, sir--- can’t you see she’s been injured? You weren’t there; it wasn’t her fault. There was no way we could know---” “Shut up, you stupid cow!” he snarled at Hope’s attempts to defend her sister. “If my plans fall apart tonight because of her bungling, whatever injury she ’s incurred so far will be nothing compared to what I’ll have done to her!! Now, I’ve sent Wembley for Bellows; you and he are to follow their carriage, overtake them, and put an end to those three, and their meddling once and for all! If you fail this time, I promise you, she will suffer the consequences! NOW…GO!!!” Hope’s eyes narrowed in thinly-veiled anger, but one look in her beloved sister’s direction was all that it took to convince her of what she had to do. Within mere moments, she and the aforementioned “Bellows” were racing at a frightening speed down the side of the steep hillside, in pursuit of Lord Wayne’s carriage. Hope sat stone-faced, at the opposite end from Bellows, trying vainly to avoid any sort of contact with him. The carriage lurched again, and Bellows leered in Hope’s direction; lowering his eyes appreciatively to her jostling form, and said in a voice heavy with drink and lust: “Aye love, what says you-n-me (after we’s done wit’ our li’l errand) goes and ’ave’s ourselves a little drink and a little lovin’ down by my place at the ‘Golden Boar’. Nothin’ likes a little blood ‘ere an’ there to get a man’s…juices… up and runnin’, eh?” Hope grimaced in disgust. She wasn’t sure which revolted her more about this man--- his lack of regular hygiene (evident from the stench of body-odour rolling off from him in noxious waves), his penchant for drinking himself into a stupor, or his lust for blood-- among his obvious lusts for…other…things. In fact, the only thing she could say in Mr. Bellows’ favour was that he excelled at what he did. Unfortunately, what he “did” was commit cold-blooded murder! And Hope was truly sick of it. All of it. Lex. The endless killings. Her sister’s insanity. Everything. She just wanted all of it to end. And most of all- for all that he’d done to her, to Mercy, and to countless others- Hope wanted Lex Luthor to pay! And pay, he would! For tonight, Lex Luthor’s empire of evil would end…and she would be there to see it--- not just see it, but to contribute to his downfall as well! That is- she thought, suddenly rather woefully- if she could just manage to keep herself and Mercy alive long enough to bring her plan to fruition. Hope heaved a heavy-hearted sigh at the thought of her poor sister’s perilous situation. Although they could not be more different from the outside, anyone who knew the pair could see that no two sisters could have been any closer. Mercy was a tall blonde with creamy skin, ice-blue eyes, and sharp, angular features. Hope, on the other hand, was a dark- skinned beauty of African descent. And contrary to her sister, Hope’s features were rounder and more feminine, with large brown eyes, pouty lips, and fuller bosom and hips. Neither sister had ever known who their biological parents were, since it was the habit of the mysterious Bana- Mighdall Amazons to go on raiding parties, and either make forced sires of their male captives, or (as in Hope’s and Mercy’s cases) to steal babies outright, in order to maintain their tribe’s population. So, it was, since infancy, that Hope and Mercy had been brought up as sisters; and like true sisters, they were virtually inseparable. In the spring of their fourteenth year, (as was the custom of their tribe) Hope and Mercy were taken out to participate in their first raid. Things had gone horribly awry, however, and the two young girls had found themselves unexpectedly and unintentionally abandoned in the desert’s harsh environment. “Luckily” for them, Lex happened to come upon the hapless girls while out on a hunting expedition. He “rescued” them, took them in, and recruited their unusual services as mercenaries in a variety of creative ways. They became his servants, spies, bodyguards, and (when the need arose) his hired assailants. In return, they were given the best of everything that the considerable Luthor fortune could buy: food, clothing, education, etc…- they needed only name it and it was theirs. But Lex’s “rewards” came with a terrible price. Hope shuddered with a combination of horror and revulsion as she thought of the many nights in Lex’s private chambers when she and Mercy were forced to participate in Lex’s nightmarishly humiliating and torturous demonstrations of the depths of his “love” for them. For her part, Hope became increasingly bitter towards Lex, and their seemingly hopeless situation. But as the years passed, Mercy fell more and more under his lordship’s thrall; and instead of seeing him as their tormentor, she began to see him as their savior. Worst of all (as far as Hope could see) she’d actually become enamored of the monster- and she was willing to do literally anything to prove her love for him! The result was the terrible change that Mercy had undergone; from a noble, young Amazon warrior to a murderous lunatic! And for that, Hope vowed, Lex Luthor would pay! Suddenly, the coach lurched again and Hope saw just the opportunity she was looking for: As the coach slowed to aright itself against the rain-soaked road, she engaged her lightning-fast reflexes to open the coach’s door and with a mighty thrust, kicked the dozing Bellows out of the cab; and over the steep embankment below them. “I must make this look as real as possible.” she thought to her self, as she yelled out to the driver---“Driver, stop the carriage! Stop immediately! Mr. Bellows had fallen out! Oh, help, help!!” The driver did as demanded and stopped the coach as soon as he safely could. Hope jumped out, and ran with all speed, to where Bellows had fallen. From somewhere below her, she could hear his loud curses. “What’s this?! What the bloody ‘ell’s goin’ on ‘ere?! Somebody up there? A little ‘elp ‘ere, then; me ruddy ‘ead’s bleedin’! ‘Ello? ‘Ello Anyone there---?” “Well, the drunken buffoon still lives, it seems---”, she thought, as she breathed a sigh of relief. Revolting as she found the man, she didn’t want another human life on her conscience. She was through with all the violence and killing. “No,” she amended herself. “I’ll be through with the killing once I ’m through with Lex Luthor!” She hurried back to the carriage to further her “performance“: “Driver, He’s alive! I can hear him, but it’s far to dark to see him. We’ll just have to come back for him later, I fear. If we do not get to Lord Wayne ’s carriage in time to carry out Mr. Luthor’s instructions, we’ll be far worse off than he!” The driver, with a sudden look of fear on his face, muttered in agreement, and within seconds they were speeding off again. “Good,” she thought to herself, and sent up a prayer to her native gods that things would continue to proceed her way. After about another two hours’ travel, they’d reached London, still a good several minutes behind Lord Wayne‘s party. Some blocks away from Scotland Yard, she demanded that the driver let her out so that she could walk to her destination. “But what about ye return trip, lassie? This weather ain‘t a‘gonna let up anytime soon I‘ll wager.” he said, with a look of concern lining his already craggy features. To this, she’d already prepared a response: “I’ll call for a carriage when I’ve finished this ‘errand’. It wouldn’t do for us to fail Mr. Luthor, tonight of all nights!” She gave him a pointed look. Even in the uneven light of the street lamps, she could see his face grow paler by a shade. “In the meantime, I’d suggest that you go back and see to our unfortunate Mr. Bellows.” Once again, he nodded in agreement, and was off in an instant, to his next destination.