Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters
Copyright © 2020 Wet Leaf Press
RADLEY’S LABYRINTH FOR HORNY MONSTERS First Edition
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
ISBN: 978-1949654028 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1949654035 (paperback)
Written by Annabelle Hawthorne
Published by Wet Leaf Press
www.wetleafpress.com
Cover Design by 100Covers.com
Interior Design by FormattedBooks.com
This book is for the freaks
the geeks
and the outcasts
Contents
The View from Up Here
The Library
Planting the Seeds
New Castle
Man in the Mirror
A Series of Unfortunate Events
The Labyrinth
Memories and Minotaurs
Caught in the Trap
Finding the Center
The Worst Place on Earth
The Coming Storm
In the Eye of the Storm
Bigger on the Inside
Afterword
About the Author
THE VIEW FROM UP HERE
In all the time Mike had been alive, he’d never had much need for home repair. Any issues inside of the house had been fixable with a quick call to the landlord, and the worst he had ever dealt with was a dishwasher that had backed up onto his kitchen floor.
However, now there was no landlord to call, no problem that could be fixed with the push of a button. It was his house, his problem, and right now, the front of his home was a wreck. The planking had been torn up from the wraparound porch and the railing destroyed when a psychotic witch named Sarah had hurled Abella across the yard and into the decking. The roof above it had begun to sag, though it was quickly shored up by spare wood that Tink had found. Luckily Abella was crazy strong, and Mike had mostly supervised the reinstallation of the support beams, watching the gargoyle lift the roof up high enough while Tink properly replaced the busted wood, standing on a ladder while Mike handed her tools.
The little goblin was the picture of home improvement efficiency. By the time he had returned from the greenhouse last week, she had already ordered almost everything they needed to fix the front of his damaged home. Each day brought with it a new shipment of supplies, and Tink made the time to show Mike how to help her.
The bushes had been pulled up, and the trellis beneath had been removed, the delicate wood having been shattered by Abella’s impact. Tink had found a new trellis online, declaring the Magic Screen the best invention known to man. It was supposed to arrive next week, with instructions to leave it at the bottom of the driveway. Mike was no longer taking any chances with deliveries, especially not after Sarah had ended up nearly killing him disguised as a delivery person.
Tink was busy taking measurements, making several notes in a small journal Mike had bought for her. She wore a pair of overalls and a white tank top, both purchased in the “little miss” section of a store for tweens in the mall. The goblin was a whiz on the sewing machine—she had taken in the sides and adjusted the legs so that the clothes were a perfect fit. Her hair had been pulled back into a bright-red ponytail, revealing both of her horns and a pencil tucked behind each ear, with yet another in her mouth. Making a note to herself, she set down the pencil she’d been writing with, measured another gap, then pulled the pencil from between her lips to write down her findings. She wore an ankle brace now, her foot still not well enough to be walked on. It had been a struggle to make the little goblin take it easy around the house for a couple of days, but Mike had told her it was human law that a wife needed to let her husband care for her.
A big stickler for following the law, Tink had acquiesced. It was the same reason they were married, in fact. Shortly after moving in, she had started a territorial dispute with him, and he had married her to keep her from being kicked out of the house as the loser. Consummating the marriage had been far more fun than expected, and Tink didn’t seem to mind the sexual relationships he had with the other women of the house.
“Excuse me?”
Mike turned around to see a young man holding a box on the front walk.
“Mr. Radley?”
“That’s me.” Mike cautiously approached the man, then signed for the package. The delivery driver waited patiently, taking no notice of the little green woman fixing the porch. Mike even looked back to make sure she was there, marveling at how the magical geas protected his home. Unless invited inside, nobody would see the magical creatures that lived within.
“Your house is so cool,” the driver remarked, taking the paperwork back. “When I was a kid, my friends and I used to dare each other to ring the bell. We all thought it was haunted, but none of us ever had the guts to actually make it to the door.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I dunno. Weird stuff always seemed to happen around here. I know this will sound stupid, you know, kids and all, but one time my friend Jacob said he made it onto the porch. He was going to hit the bell when we heard this woman scream bloody murder at him, so he bolted. I think it was probably a rabbit under the porch or something. I hear they can scream like people.”
“No, it’s a ghost. She’s a screamer. Does that shit all the time.”
The delivery driver’s eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. Mike waited several breaths and then winked at him.
“Oh, shit, you had me. You actually had me. Felt like I was ten all over again. Have a good day, man!” He waved, jogging back to his car and driving away. Mike looked at the porch swing, Cecilia rocking gently back and