“What, down the hall?” D_Light inquired.
“Yeah, just as you opened the door, I saw what I…I think it was a man. Or not a man,” she whispered between breaths.
D_Light nodded. “I thought I saw something, but just barely,” he said with uncertainly.
Fael blinked hard, rubbed her eyes, and said, “I just saw the face, er, mask. It looked like a lion or something truly ghastly! I just got a glimpse, but it was enough.”
D_Light chuckled. “If you’re trying to get me in the mood by scaring me, well, you don’t need to.”
With that, she grabbed his stomach lightly and squeezed. “Hey, you’re the ghastly beast, D_Light. I’m serious about the lion. I’m a very serious girl. You’ll see.” D_Light, a bit ticklish, recoiled from her menacing fingers and smiled wryly.
“Yeah, serious is the first word that comes to mind when thinking of you.” D_Light took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, still recovering from the frantic race to his dwelling.
“Okay, so it was a mask? How do you know it was a man?”
“’Cause it had the body of a man, kinda fat too.” She poked at him again.
D_Light parried her poke and lunged at her flank with two fingers. “Okay, so there’s a fat guy running around my hallway with a lion mask on?”
Fael gave a strong confirming nod and replied, “Yeah, pretty hot, huh? Maybe I should invite him in?” She made a mock motion for the door, giggling like a child.
“This sucks!” yelled someone from the congregation. “Get it on, already!” yelled another.
“Yeah, now we’re having fun! I’ve always thought that getting hunted in my own home would be a great icebreaker with the ladies-just never had the opportunity to test my theory until tonight!” Without thinking, D_Light put his left hand up on the door as though he meant to block her exit.
“Well, your theory might be correct.” She squealed and slapped his hand as he managed to prod her in the ribs with a finger from his right hand.
It was about then that D_Light realized that he probably hadn’t looked all that cool running around like a frightened rabbit out there while Number Seven was in effect. Worse was the absolute silliness of this poking and prodding dance between himself and Fael; obviously, his techniques of wooing the ladies had not changed since he was a young boy. Soul, I really should take some time to come up with some new moves, he thought while redirecting his attention back to the subject at hand.
“So, I s’pose the mask is meant to frighten the wits out of anyone he gets the jump on,” mused D_Light as he made a mock lunge at his date, abandoning his earlier notion that his physical flirtations were lame.
“Sure, when you turn your back to run, it’s easy to get a knife stuck in it,” replied Fael, retreating from D_Light’s tickling fingers. She sank down into a spongy moss chair that conformed perfectly to her body. Fael, a forty-eight-year-old woman with the body and skin of someone less than half her age, suddenly looked even younger as she slouched back and casually draped a long, lean leg over the arm of the chair. D_Light felt something stir in him, and while reveling in the feeling, he nearly failed to notice that the luscious creature was again speaking to him.
“Truly, anyone who actually participates in Seven is already a bit dodgy, but someone who uses a mask, actually employs props? Now that’s downright sick!” She crinkled her face in disgust and relaxed back into the chair.
“With the psychos out there, I guess we’re just stuck in my room for…a whole hour.”
Wow, that wasn’t very subtle, D_Light thought.
Fael laughed. “Yes, your rather…er, depressing room.” Fael surveyed the chamber with her dark, sculpted eyebrows raised high. “You know, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but your room could use a little color, don’t you think? I mean, I know you want to keep that naturally drafty castle look and all, but um, I don’t know, maybe a little artwork?”
D_Light forced a mock smile-lips pursed tightly-and gave Fael a look to indicate that he was indeed listening, but not particularly pleased with what he was hearing. He liked his minimalist surroundings. He had all the essentials-two chairs, a desk, a table, and a bed. As a bonus, he even had a few plants to make the room smell nice and provide nectar snacks.
“And yes,” Fael continued, “I think our only option is to hide. After all, I left my sword in my chamber. I realize plebs get rowdy at comedies sometimes, but when I left my chamber this evening I didn’t expect I’d have to shed any blood!”
D_Light took another decisive step toward her. Now standing between her spread legs, looking down at the woman sprawled out on his favorite chair, D_Light took the opportunity to thoroughly check her out once again. Nope, she certainly wasn’t carrying a sword. Not a lot she could be carrying at all, he thought.
There was a moment of silence in the archive. A congregation member yelled out, “Go, Deee!” There was more whistling, but the cathedral quickly grew silent. No one wanted to miss what seemed to be imminent.
CHAPTER 3
Why are spank games, games of entertainment, required by divine law to include physical activity? Why can’t we play spank games lying still in our beds as past generations?
Sloth is a sin for a reason. Inactivity has a price. Although modern medicine is capable of keeping anyone fit regardless of their activity level, it costs more to keep the slothful healthy than it does to keep the active man so. Thus, the sideliner can opt for lazy virtual reality spank games, but those of us in the Game, we have to play by the rules.
“Rule Seven is beastly, don’t you think?” asked Fael. “I mean, I have heard the reasons-that it provides an outlet for aggression, that is helps bring in new blood, provides incentive for players to be more civil to one another, but…I don’t know.”
“Yeah, on that last point, SirRuthless-I don’t know if you knew him-got fragged about a year ago?” D_Light asked.
Fael looked at him blankly, so D_Light continued. “Anyway, he was a real bastard to everyone, and so when the opportunity came, he got fragged. You think twice before you disrespect a player in this house ’cause you could find yourself on the wrong side of a knife after the bell rings.”
Fael’s eyes flipped up momentarily, often a sign of communing with one’s familiar. “Oh yes, I did know SirRuthless. You know, he wasn’t so bad. I saw the archive of his fragging. They ganged up on him. It was terrible!”
D_Light scoffed, “Sure, I bet he was a real pussycat to you. No handmaiden of Mother Lyra is going to get disrespect.”
Another from the congregation, possibly C, shouted, “NOOb, get on with it!” The exclamation was followed by laughter throughout the congregation.
Fael’s voice was sober. “Ha, you’d be surprised. Anyway, I don’t buy any of those reasons for Number Seven.”
“Just entertainment, eh?” D_Light smirked.
Fael nodded. “Something like that.”
Her eyebrows furrowed momentarily as though she had just remembered a troubling thought. Then, without warning, she all but flung herself out of the deep-cushioned seat and turned her attention to the chamber again. Ivory flames licked out from torches in each corner. Flickering light and shadows battled for supremacy on the rough-hewn walls. There was a single window nearby, and she walked over to it. “My, you have a view-of the ocean, no less! You must be a pretty good boy around here.” Her voice sounded like it was meant to be a purr, but there was stickiness beneath it.
D_Light thought about asking her to stay away from the window for her safety, having heard hunters going out on the roofs during Seven. On the other hand, the window was locked, and it was made of high-quality plexi. Even a modern weapon would be hard-pressed to penetrate it, and fortunately modern weapons were against divine law, a full-fledged sin, in fact. Even royalty could only carry “classic” weapons.