CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of torture. If you want to skip it, probably don't read after the second line break in the BEA point of view.
Chelsea stood there staring at the bag for a few moments, waiting. Nothing happened.
"Huh."
Ivy looked over from where she was adjusting her scepter that chelsea nicknamed the fire stick. "What?"
"The bag didn't explode."
Adriane looked at her, confused. "Why would it explode?"
Chelsea pointed at the leather sack. "Because before I put it on it was a 22 slot bag. When I put it on, The Perfect Outfit made it into a 242 slot bag. I thought maybe when i took it off, it would try to go back to a 22. The scales would have to go somewhere."
The two women stared at her.
"Why would you want that?" Adriane finally asked.
Chelsea looked genuinely disappointed. "Because it would have been amazing."
“In the manor? Really Chels?”
Chelsea ignored her mother. "Think about it. If I filled a bag full of heavy things…”
Adriane pinched the bridge of her nose. "Chelsea."
"A bag full of anvils." Chelsea pointed excitedly. "Then in a fight I take it off and throw the bag."
"What?"
"The bag reverts, expelling all of the anvils. Anvil grenade!" Chelsea pouts. “Too bad it didn’t work.”
Ivy burst out laughing.
"A terrible idea," Adriane answered immediately. Adriane simply stared at her for a moment before shaking her head.
With the scales safely stored away, there was little reason to remain at the manor. The bags handled most of the storage problems by themselves. Each slot held fifty scales, which meant the seventeen thousand they'd harvested barely took up any space at all. Chelsea was still amazed by it. Back on Earth, seventeen thousand dragon scales would require warehouses. Here they fit neatly into a converted bedroom. With enough room for someone to not even notice they were there.
They met up with Fiona on the way and the four women set off toward the traveling merchant quarter shortly afterward.
Junstruce was busy as always. The main district bustled with activity as people from every corner of the world moved through its streets. Merchants called out advertisements from storefronts and wagons alike. Adventurers pushed through the crowds carrying weapons, armor, and supplies. The occasional cart rolled by loaded with goods from distant kingdoms.
Chelsea loved all of it.
The traveling merchant quarter somehow managed to be even busier.
Colorful tents stretched down entire streets alongside permanent buildings. Exotic goods filled every available space. Weapons, books, jewelry, enchanted trinkets, spices, fabrics, strange fruits, and even stranger animals.
"Oh, I want to go over there." Chelsea pointed toward a merchant selling glowing crystals.
"You've said that about the last six stalls," Ivy laughed.
"Because they were all interesting."
"You don't even know what half of them are selling." Ivy pointed out.
"Exactly. That's what makes me want to visit them."
As they crossed the street, Chelsea noticed Fiona drifting a few steps behind the group again. The larger woman rubbed at her stomach absentmindedly before hurrying to catch up.
It wasn't the first time Chelsea had seen her do it.
Actually, now that she thought about it, Fiona had been doing it at the guild hall.
The woman wasn't complaining about pain. She didn't seem sick. She just kept touching her stomach whenever she wasn't paying attention to what her hands were doing.
Chelsea glanced toward Adriane who followed the look, spotted Fiona, and immediately seemed to understand what Chelsea was thinking. The two shared a brief look before Adriane turned her attention back toward the market.
Neither of them said anything.
If Fiona wanted to remain blissfully oblivious to the obvious, that was her business.
For now.
Chelsea's attention quickly wandered elsewhere anyway. A merchant displaying maps from half a dozen kingdoms caught her eye. Then a weapons stall.
Honestly, she was beginning to suspect that traveling merchants might be her favorite thing in the entire world.
Then she spotted them. A tent was selling them. Chelsea’s heart broke. No. No that’s not ok. She reached into the pocket of her robe and lovingly pet her little treasure chest. There was a table full of various sizes and shapes of mimic larvae for sale.
Beatrix - Six days later.
How dare Edgar put her to sleep like that again. She was watching her tongue. She hadn't said anything she deemed too bad, but waking up to his beautiful face staring at her was just frustrating. If he wasn't the most perfect creature in the world, she would have killed him days ago.
“M-miss B-b- uh, Wixx?”
A timid voice came from behind her. She was in the guildhall early just to get away. She sighed with annoyance. This better not be another "Honor for the Twelve" moron.
She turned around and found a pleasant surprise.
Chelsea's boyfriend.
She didn't know his name, but he was the clerk who had been giving her fuck-eyes from the moment the little succubus graced his presence.
“Oh, hello. I remember you,” she said in her sweet voice.
“Y-yes, Miss.” He seemed to light up at her recognition.
“What do you want?” Bea asked.
Thank the gods Chelsea chose that hot little elf chick instead of this pussy elemental.
“Miss, may I sit? I have something to discuss with you. It's about your niece.”
This guy still wasn't over her and was trying to weasel his way in through Bea. She couldn't fault him for it. It was actually a bold move.
She wanted to see how this played out, so she patted the seat next to her.
He sat, and she scooted closer so their hips were touching. This was entirely for his discomfort.
“Well, you see, I wanted to go to Miss Chelsea or Miss Adriane with this, but to be honest, you're more approachable,” he said.
She didn't know how to take that. Adriane she understood. The Silver Sword thing was terrifying. Chelsea, though? The little demon was the most approachable thing in the whole fucking kingdom. She practically wore a sign around her neck that said, pet my wings.
“Yesterday, at the end of my shift, I left. When I did, I was approached by, umm...” He looked around. “Umm...” He leaned in and quietly said, “Miss Ivy’s brother Adair and Easton. They want to take revenge on Miss Chelsea.”
“Oh shit,” Bea said quietly, grinning wide.
This was getting good.
What did they have up their sleeve?
He reached into the pouch at his hip. It was a small one like Chelsea's. He pulled out two cards and handed them over.
“They gave me these and said that if Miss Chelsea and Miss Ivy take a job, then I should give them these instead. They think I hate Miss Chelsea for rejecting me, but really I was the one who rejected her. Does she really eat people?”
Bea laughed.
“Yeah. Watched her bite a guy's throat out one time, then turn around, rip out his friend's heart, and start eating it without even cutting off the arteries,” Bea said, smiling while staring off into the distance. “Oh, the memories.”
“I can't imagine Miss Chelsea doing something like that. She's so nice,” he replied weakly.
“Any idea what rank all of these guys are?” she asked while holding up the cards.
“Uh, yes. Easton is F-rank. Adair ranked up to D a few months back, and the rest of his goons are mostly E-rank, with a couple who hit D with him.”
“Wonderful news,” Bea said, nodding.
Her voice betrayed her excitement.
Someone wanted to hurt her very sweet, adorable, precious, and fucking annoying niece.
Bea couldn't control her excitement as she walked to the teleporter.
Maybe she would torture just one of them and make the rest watch.
Oh no.
Maybe she would make one eat another.
Oh, the possibilities were endless.
She stepped onto the teleporter and cast a mass sleep spell.
It hit no one.
They weren't here yet.
She found herself in an old mine shaft. She looked around excitedly.
They were prepared for the two, though.
There were two cages.
Various rusty knives were laid out nearby, along with a wood saw. She wondered what that was for.
Her creativity was running wild.
She decided she would come back.
The idiots probably expected Chels sometime around ten.
That's when Bea would strike.
She went back through the teleporter and decided to go shopping.
Her creativity was really, really running wild now.
“No thanks,” Bea said as Chelsea tried to hand her a job. “I have a special one today. Your boyfriend gave it to me. Chels, let me say I love having you around. The trouble you bring is delicious.”
She gave the demon a side hug and kissed her on top of the head.
“I'm not sure what I did to deserve such high praise from you, but I'll take it!” Chelsea said with that annoyingly sweet smile.
Bea could get lost in that smile for hours.
She hated herself for loving this stupid, brilliant little idiot so much.
“Don't change a thing, you little troublemaker.”
Bea sauntered off toward the teleporter again. She pulled out one of the cards and kissed it.
She repeated the exact actions she had performed earlier.
Stepped up.
Mass sleep spell.
This time, a success.
Her eyes went wide.
Seven.
She caught seven little piglets.
She needed to do something special for Chelsea when she got back.
The third one opened his eyes and immediately bit down on his rubber gag.
“Welcome. Which one are you? You look very elf. Blonde hair. Pointy ears. Chelsea says elves taste horrible. We're going to find out today.”
Bea gasped.
“Are you the brother of my dear sweet niece's pet elf?” Bea tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Didn't she threaten to bite your dick off?”
Bea wasted no time and began cutting into Adair.
She started with his face.
Obviously, he screamed, which only made Bea's heart race faster with exhilaration.
When he bucked, throwing off her perfect line, she removed an ear as punishment.
She healed his face and started over.
When he bucked again, she took the other ear, followed by a threat involving his dick.
His screams finally roused the other four.
One of them she recognized as Easton, the reader guy who had apparently given Adriane a wish-granting djinn. She was still pissed at him because she would have loved to have the djinn.
“Oh, good morning, dear,” she said in the sweetest tone she could muster. “I will be with you in a moment.”
She was able to peel an almost perfect face off the elf.
He screamed the entire time, but she was pleased to see he didn't buck again.
She looked down at the face in her hand and grew curious.
“She said it was disgusting?”
Bea put the face to her mouth and took a small bite of the inner flesh.
It wasn't horrible.
If it were cooked, she could see it being good.
“Doesn't know what she's talking about. This isn't bad.”
For fun, she walked over to one of the nameless humans and placed the elf face over hers.
She stepped back and giggled at how ridiculous she looked.
Bea's expression shifted from joy to rage.
“Leave it on.”
The woman nodded quickly.
“In fact.”
Bea reached down, grabbed the ears she had removed earlier, and stuck them onto the now-crying woman.
She stepped back and laughed even harder at how stupid the sobbing woman looked.
“Now for you.”
She rolled her head to the side and eyed Easton.
She placed a hand against the side of his head.
He didn't let her view his stats.
She punched him in the nose.
“Let me in!” she yelled.
She put her hand there again.
There was a moment of resistance before he gave in.
“Oh, you're such a good boy. Let's see here. Think that says warrior. I know it's not spellblade. Let's get this off you.”
She inserted the bloodied knife beneath the gag and swiftly sliced outward, cutting the inside of his cheek along with the elastic strap.
He screamed for several seconds before yelling, “You crazy bitch!” and spitting blood at her.
This only elicited a smile from Bea.
She loved it when they reacted like that.
She didn't know why, but those words, screamed in anger and fear, always brought a genuine smile to her face.
“So, Mister Leech,” she began.
“That damned demon sent you!?” he asked. “She didn't even have the...”
“Who? Oh, Chels? No, no, no. You misunderstand. She had no idea you still existed. No, I am here because I want to be.”
She flashed a huge smile.
“Just out of curiosity, what was your plan with her? Give me all of the juicy details. Don't leave anything out.”
“I'm not telling you shit!” he yelled.
Bea stepped back, shocked.
She dropped the knife and looked around at all of them.
Bea clutched at the hair on either side of her head.
“Oh gods. Oh gods. I am so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen,” she stammered, her bottom lip quivering. “I-I can heal. I can heal you all. Please, you have to forgive me.”
Relief washed over the faces of four of the men and the other woman.
The elf and the woman wearing the elf's face showed little emotion.
She was clearly unstable.
But she seemed to be coming out of it.
“I can't help it sometimes,” she said in a meek voice. “Sometimes my inner demon takes over and does or says things.”
The men and women nodded along, eager to forgive her.
She approached the elf and healed his face, even regrowing his ears.
The relief on his face was palpable.
Bea stepped back and said. “Those were all words the very sweet Chelsea Wixx would have said,” Bea explained, her demented smile returning.
She bowed, pleased with her performance.
“Unfortunately for all of you, I am not Chelsea Wixx.”
She reached over and grabbed the wood saw they had prepared when she first arrived.
“Let's have some fun.”