“Sex dungeon? Yeah, it definitely looks like one,” Aeshma said helpfully.
With how loudly Petunia had shrieked, it wouldn’t be long until the whole manor came running to check out the commotion. But for now, we had the chance to inspect Dringel’s secret sex dungeon all on our own.
There was quite a lot to take in. The room had been decorated like a proper medieval dungeon, with coarse stone walls and old-fashioned wooden torches lining the walls. The first thing I noticed was a giant wooden paddle hung over the entrance, elegantly carved with the words Master Dringel’s Bottom Bruiser.
There were all sorts of marital aids around: various brushes, forks, and faintly-glowing strings of beads hung from purpose-crafted racks and hooks along the walls. A set of fluffy handcuffs was attached to the ceiling. I did my best to avoid imagining what Dringel must have looked like using any of this stuff.
A large chalkboard hung on the wall. On it was written in a surprisingly delicate cursive:
5 Rules of Pleasure
- Always know your safe-word
- Drink plenty of fluids – night soup available on request
- No magic… we’ll make enough ourselves ;)
- When in doubt, talk things out
- Wipe down all “equipment” after use
There was also a stack of night soup bowls shoved into a corner of the room. The old pervert seemed to leave them strewn about wherever he went.
“It’s… oh, it’s disgusting!” wailed Petunia, laying her hand against her forehead. I thought she was being overly dramatic. Even if their methods were a little unorthodox, wasn’t it nice that Dringel and Anya had found a way to keep the spark alive?
Tatzel was surveying the scene with a look of wonder in her eyes. “Aeshma, what do you think they were doing with that rune-lug?”
“Beats me. Man, they must’ve been gettin up to some really advanced maneuvers in here. I’ve never seen one so big.”
From behind us, Petunia let out another series of offended huffs.
“You know, if I were involved in this… uh, this,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the dungeon, “I think I’d rather it not smell so much like old soup.”
Tatzel sniffed the air and grimaced. “Dringel had quite the habit, didn’t he? Perhaps we should ask the maid what was so special about it. And – for the love of… Petunia! Get a grip and put a sock in it, would you?” she shouted, as Petunia continued wailing and stammering indignantly.
The two brothers, Horlen and Lem, came barreling into the study. They were both huffing and puffing like they had sprinted over here from the other side of the manor. Petunia’s scream had probably made them think there’d been another murder.
Based on the expressions of shock and disgust that now appeared on their faces, I thought they would’ve preferred a murder to what actually awaited them.
“Great Spirits of goodness and beauty! What is this?” yelled Lem.
Horlen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Detectives, would you please close this, ah, room back up? There’s really no need for anyone else to see this.” He pointedly avoided looking at Petunia.
“Yes, please close it before Mother gets here,” Lem said disgustedly. I don’t want her knowing that I’ve seen this… this… hrggh,” he retched.
Aeshma looked at the brothers, then back at the entrance to the dungeon. The chain she’d pulled to reveal it had disappeared down into the floor, along with the fireplace. “Uh… well, I’m not really sure how to close it up. So I guess you’ll just have to, you know. Deal with it.” She rolled her eyes. “I dunno what the big deal is, anyway.”
Dracorn charged into the study next. When he saw what we were all gathered around, he balked for a moment. Then he let out a deep, chesty laugh. His still-howling wife launched herself into his big, muscular arms and fainted dramatically.
Dracorn lowered Petunia gently into an armchair before flashing us a snaggletoothed grin. “I always figured Dringel had a few skeletons in his closet. But this? I never woulda guessed it! Didn’t think the ol’ geezer had it in him! Hah!” He strutted up beside Aeshma and me to get a closer look at the various utensils inside the dungeon.
Anya and Agita were the last to arrive. Agita threw a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, but once she recovered her curiosity seemed to get the best of her. She joined the rest of us gawking at Dringel’s secret room.
Anya’s reaction was the one that surprised us, though. She went white as a sheet and almost toppled over. Her two sons immediately went over to her and started talking in hushed tones, probably trying to reassure her that it wasn’t a big deal. But Anya just shook her head. “No, you don’t understand… I’ve never seen that… that room in my life,” she said. “I’ve never…”
Aeshma, Tatzel, and I exchanged a curious look. That was certainly a development. Surely Anya understood what she was suggesting… because obviously, Dringel was using this room with someone, even if it wasn’t her.
Agita and the two brothers picked up on it, too. Apparently realizing that this was yet another “private family matter”, Agita and Lem started trying to herd Dracorn and his wife out of the room.
Dracorn seemed amused by their embarrassment, and was giving a running commentary on the various implements he spotted within the sex dungeon.
It was around this time that the elder brother, Horlen, broke off from the pack and approached the three of us. The anger he’d been possessed of earlier had fled, leaving him grim-faced and dead serious. "There's something you all need to know,” he said quietly. “Follow me to the conservatory, and quickly.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Aeshma scoffed. "Oh, so now you wanna talk? Now that we’ve discovered your dad’s secret fun chamber?”
Horlen looked uneasily over his shoulder. He spoke at a low hiss. “Until now, I didn’t know that this… place… existed. But what it represents is extremely relevant to your investigation. We need to talk, away from the others.”
We allowed Horlen to lead us back to the conservatory. The storm was still raging outside the glass windows. Wind cut across the lawn in fierce gusts, threatening to uproot the manicured shrubberies.
It was a good thing we’d happened upon the manor. It would’ve been awful to still be outside in this.
Horlen unlocked a cabinet and plucked out a crystal bottle and four fluted glasses. “Unicorn potion, anyone?” he asked.
“Please,” said Tatzel.
I looked at Aeshma hesitantly. “Yeah, Unicorn all around!” she said. She lowered her voice and whispered, “You’re gonna love it dude, trust me. Pressed Unicorn is fancy stuff. Better try it while you’ve got the chance.”
Horlen poured out our drinks. Pressed Unicorn was apparently a silvery, viscous fluid. The elder brother swirled his around in his glass before taking a sip. “I… may owe you an apology,” he began. “There’s information I hoped wouldn’t come to light over the course of your investigation. I thought I could resolve things cleanly on my own, without outside help. But of course, now there’s no use hiding it any longer.”
“As you may have surmised, my father has been engaged in a… ah, dalliance, for years now. An extramarital affair. I had been trying to get him to straighten things out, to come clean or break things off with his mistress. It’s what we were fighting about last night. Ever since I found out, I’ve been begging him to put an end to things, one way or another. But he refused. He kept…”
Horlen took a deep breath. “The affair was with Petunia, you see. That’s why Father kept calling these business meetings with Dracorn. That's why there was always some absurd, unreasonable term in the purchasing contract. It was all a sham, just an excuse for him to meet up with his mistress. When I’d sit in on the meetings, it was like he was making me… making me party to his dishonor. It made me so angry, I just…”
He stopped to compose himself. "I can't help but feel responsible for Father’s death. Last night, I threatened that if he didn’t end things with Petunia, I’d tell Mother the truth myself. Only to… only to find him murdered this morning, Deathclock Shroud and all.”
He sighed and tossed his Unicorn potion back before pouring himself another glass. I took a swig as well. Pressed Unicorn tasted more expensive than anything I'd ever tasted before. The delicate liquid passed weightlessly over my lips to tap-dance on my tongue. It was like drinking the memory of my favorite meal, except crusted with diamonds.
"So what do you think happened?" Tatzel asked.
"What I think happened," Horlen said, working in a dramatic pause as lightning crashed behind him, "is that my Father did break it off with Petunia. And then she killed him for it."
–
"So, who do you guys think did it? Is Petunia our new prime suspect?" I asked, as I untucked the blanket from the corner of the bed with a flourish. After an extremely uncomfortable (though delicious) dinner, the whole house had decided to turn in for the night. Aeshma, Tatzel and I weren’t quite ready for bed yet, so we were taking the opportunity to discuss the case – our theories and hunches, inconsistencies in people’s stories, et cetera.
Aeshma emerged, still steaming, from her shower in our shared grand-bathroom. A towel was bundled over her head and she was wearing a set of heart-studded pajamas she’d found in the wardrobe. Tatzel and I had found matching sets of our own. I felt a bit silly wearing mine, but it beat going to bed in my muddy travel clothes. Besides, my jeans needed a good airing-out.
“Oh, one-hundo percent I think that Petunia did it,” said Aeshma.
Tatzel sat herself down on our super-double-king mattress. “I don’t think this bed is big enough for all of us,” she said.
“Tatzel, this bed would be big enough for ten of us, and there’d be room to spare.” I tossed Jie onto the bed. Legs extruded from the bottom of the deerstalker hat and the little Mimic scuttled his way up to the pillows. “Anyway, did you hear what I asked, Tatzel? Who do you think committed the murder?”
She frowned, thinking. “I still think it was Horlen. Petunia didn’t stand to gain anything from Dringel’s death, whereas Horlen got control of the family business.”
Aeshma smirked at her. “Nah Tatz, you don’t understand the, like… inner workings of people’s emotions. This was a crime of passion, I bet. If Dringel broke up with Petunia, she would’ve been heartbroken. Her motive is way better.”
Tatzel wasn’t so sure. “I’m not so sure,” she said. “Please recall the method of the murder. We already determined that only Dracorn or Horlen are strong enough to have lifted the mace.”
“Maybe that’s it, though!” I said excitedly. “Maybe it was a crime of passion, just like Aeshma said… but Dracorn’s crime, not Petunia’s.”
Tatzel sat up a little. “You think Dracorn found out about the affair.”
“Yeah! Either Petunia fessed up about it, or maybe Dringel himself did. Either way, it would give Dracorn a rock-solid motive. That would explain everything, I think.” I crawled underneath the down comforter and claimed a little section of the bed. Aeshma was already tucked in on the opposite side.
“That doesn’t seem like a very clean explanation, if you ask me. For that to work, Dracorn needed to have known about the Mute spell, or else been prepared to kill Anya as well as anyone else in the house who came to see what was causing a commotion. Plus, it would’ve been extremely illogical of him, given that he still wanted to buy Dringel & Son.” She glared at Aeshma, Jie, and me, all tucked in under the covers. “Oh, come on, you guys. Did I not already convey that I needed the whole bed?”
There was plenty of room leftover for Tatzel; she was just being a pain. When none of us moved, she let out a dramatic sigh and transformed, her clothes and jewelry melding with her body as she took on her true, noodly form. She coiled herself, snake-like, at the foot of the bed.
“Mm, I guess Dracorn coulda done it,” Aeshma said groggily. She clearly hadn’t been paying much attention to our conversation. “Either him or Petunia. Anyways, goodnight Roland! Goodnight Jie! Goodnight Tatz! Man, this is just like being back at Camp, isn’t it?”
“Why does the Mimic get a goodnight before I do?” Tatzel huffed.
“Goodnight ya’ll,” I said, and clapped off the magic clap-light.
–
I am standing in the den. The mounted trophies stare down at me with their strange, glassy eyes, Animal, Monster, and Human alike.
The armchairs are vacant, the fireplace cold and dead. The room is illuminated solely by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. The night outside is clear and bright.
I wander across the den. I don’t know where I’m going, or why, but I must walk. Where’s Aeshma, anyway? Or Jie, or Tatzel? I don’t remember leaving them behind, but there’s no use looking for them. I know I won’t find them.
I shamble up the stairs.
The door to our bedroom is shut. I walk past it, and over to the dead man’s room instead.
The mace is leaning against the wall, right where Aeshma left it. The blood on it is still wet and dripping. A corpse is laid out on the bed, its chest caved in. But it isn’t Dringel in the bed, is it?
I approach the bedside in a zombie-like stupor. I already know who awaits me. Becca, my sister, her eyes as dull and lifeless as taxidermy. Just like the final time I saw her.
I reach out to touch her, and her shoulder is cold and spongy beneath my palm. Soggy. When I cup her face in my hands, she reaches out and grabs my arm in a cold vice-grip.
I don’t scream. Not until she looks at me with eyes that shine gold and bright.
–
I woke up warm and cozy beneath the covers, with Jie snoozing peacefully on the pillow beside me. It was just a dream.
So why did I still hear screaming?