Part 2

The next morning, Lorette woke up by the sound of someone banging on the bars.
She groaned, sitting up on the bench as she rubbed her eye. The Count was on the other side, a was his retinue. And miss Patera.
“So, miss Ipsum,” The Count started, “Have you changed your mind yet?”
She shook her head, “...Th-there’s nothing to change. Sorry.”
The Count’s face sank hearing that. He sighed, “Take her away.”
They took Lorette out of her cell and led her back to the **** room, shackling her wrists together as they tightened the noose around her neck.
“No worries, no worries,” Miss Patera said as she made herself comfortable behind the control panel, “We’ll start out easy. Then we’ll pick up the pace with time, all right?”

She pulled on the main lever, and the scaffolding came to life. The noose tightened as the trapdoor sank. Lorette could feel her neck constricting, and no longer did the air move in or out from the lungs. A primal fear gripped her, but if she moved off the trapdoor she knew it could kill her for real. The trapdoor soon rose once again, and she regained her ability to breathe with a loud gasp.
Over and over did she rise and sink, the trapdoor bouncing so as to take control of her own breathing away from her.
Nikpmup groaned loudly, “I don’t feel so good… Man, I knew what I was in for… Why did I have tacos last night?”
Throughout this ordeal, the Count and his retinue watched the display.

“She is still keeping up her little puppet act? Even throughout this?” The Count asked perplexed.
“Perhaps she has been inflicted by a curse…” One of his advisors suggested.
“Yeah.” One of the knights added, “Or maybe she’s just really dedicated to her act.”
“Or maybe,” The Count mused, “She’s just an idiot.”
Of course, they all realized the real truth was somewhere between all three.

The door suddenly burst open. The Count and his retainers turned, and found an official messenger racing in.
“My lord,” The young man said between breaths, “My lord… Prince Algot IV of Luckarette…. He is set to arrive in less than an hour.”
The Count cocked his brow, “What? Are you quite certain? Why did I not hear a word of this until now?”
“It seems he was heading for Hepten Island. A favoured artist of his holds residence there. But the captain didn’t trust the fog, and so decided to make port here. They’re taking the bridge way instead.”

The Count grew paler by at least four shades at that moment.
“The bridge… What if he meets up with the monster?” The Count pondered as he swallowed.
“We cannot possibly refuse a request from the royal family.” One of the advisors pointed out.
“Hang on.” One of the guards butted in, “What if this is an opportunity? What if we could just tell the prince honestly what we’re dealing with, and Luckarette could provide assets to get rid of the monster once and for all?”
The Count considered the advice carefully, but he only needed to think for a second. If he did that, the Crown would consider the Coronette as unequipped to fend for its people, and use it as pretext to consolidate more power.

“Release her.” The Count spat.
“Wha?” Miss Patera peered over the control panel.
“Release her at once.” The Count reiterated.
“But I was just getting to…”
“NOW!”

Miss Patera grumbled, “Fine. All right.”
She pulled the main switch.
Nothing happened.
“Uhh…” Patera pulled again. And again.

“Miss Patera? Is anything wrong?”
“No, no, Julie!” She said, forcing a grin, “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just… The lever might be a little bit jammed and I maaaaaay have lost control. Just a bit.”
“What!?”

The Count looked at the puppeteer. Her face was turning blue.
“See, now that hue?" Nikpmup pointed out, "That works with your makeup! I was wondering how you could mess it up so badly! You got a blue tinted mirror or something?”
He cackled, “No, but seriously. She’s about to drop dead. Like, any second.”

“Do something!” The Count shouted, running to the controls.
“I’m trying! I’m trying!” Miss Patera pulled every lever and pushed every button. Nothing worked.
One of the guards dashed to the scaffolding with his sword drawn, cutting off the noose. Just as Lorette was about to fall to the floor, he caught her by her waist with his free hand and gently put her down to rest. She gasped, panting frantically.

That’s when the guard realized he had drawn his sword in his lord’s presence without his express permission.
“Uh… Sorry. My lord.” He sheathed his sword and bowed.
The Count didn’t notice or care. His eyes were fixed at the interrogator, who grinned up at him nervously.
"...Go home for the day.” He pointed dramatically at the exit.
“...Yes, my lord.” She scuttled off. Blindingly fast for someone that small.

Lorette laid on the floor, grabbing her throat as she wheezed and coughed. The Count approached her, then knelt beside her.
“Miss Ipsum… I apologize for the inconvenience. It appears our interrogation will have to resume at a later date. As of now, we find ourselves in need of your services.”

It was a misty day in early afternoon, yet there was one looming figure the mist could not obscure. His broad frame loomed over his retinue like a human tower, his grey and gold military livery straining against the bulging muscles over his slab-like chest. His hair was cut at the temples and back, leaving a tiny black bowl a the very top. It would make him look quite silly, if the densely developed skeleture of his face and his intense gaze didn’t make him already look terrifying.
“Sir prince.” The Count said with a deep bow and a solemn smile, “What a pleasant surprise to have you visit our island at this hour. I only regret we did not learn of your arrival sooner, so we could properly accommodate a man of your status.”
“Hah!” The prince slapped the Count on his back. Hard. Made the poor man stumble forward from the recoil and nearly fell, “Jules, you old snake! You think you could hide your true nature from these hawk-eyes with mere pageantry? No no. We see right through you! I prefer it this way. Natural spontaneous interaction! The way the Chief God intended.” He laughed boisterously.
“Why, yes. Of course.” The Count said as he regained composure, dusting off the elbows of his jacket.
“Besides, I won’t bother you for long! An unfortunate detour, really. Still, it’s always a treat to see you, you little dog!”
“And to you, my prince. You always leave… Such an impression.” He gestured towards Lorette, “We did find the time to enlist this humble peasant to guide you across the bridge, and offer safe passage to the best of her abilities.”
“WHAT’S THAT YOU’RE SAYING!” He paced unnervingly close to the Count, standing over him like a towering giant. His gaze as he looked down on him could pierce iron, “Are you suggesting that me and my handpicked men would be unable to find our way across a single bridge? That goes straight in one direction?”
“Uh…” The Count cleared his throat, “Yes. That’s right.”

The Prince laughed, “Ah! Good thinking! You never know who will end up tripping over the rails in a mist that dense! Put it there!”
The Prince reached his massive hand towards the Count.
Without thinking, he took it.
CRUNCH!

The Count had to grit his teeth at the crushing pain of the Prince’s grip. He couldn’t have been more happy when he was released.
“S-so…? It is no problem then?”
“Of course not! The peasants are the lifeblood of our good nation! They alone carry our triumph on our shoulders!”
He tapped Lorette on her shoulder, which ruffled her headdress up so it slipped over her eyes. Partially from the recoil. Partially from the drag of his giant hands wielded every which way.
“Yeah, but imagine what we could carry then if we got them shoulders,” Nikpmup pointed out, nudging at the Prince, “Yowza!”
“Well said, young pumpkin! Well said!” Prince Algot turned towards the bridge, “Now let’s all of us get ready! That bridge won’t know what hit it!”

Lorette was making herself ready in her own way, by winding the headdress back on her head with Nikpmup’s help, when the Count snuck close behind her to whisper in her ear, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, miss Ipsum. I do not know how you do it, but it is abundantly clear you can control your little pet monster. I expect you to make sure Prince Algot can make it across the bridge without incident. And if you were to attempt so much as a twitch out of order…”
The Count gestured to one of the armed guards who would also accompany him, whose unblinking eyes, alight with bloodlust, admired his spear with a warped smile.
“...Then Stabbity-George here will make sure you will regret it. I made extra sure to enlist the most stab-happy recruit in my garrison to make sure the job is done. Is that clear?”

Lorette wanted to object here, but it was neither the time nor the place. Anything to get her away from that **** hazard would be utmost welcome. She merely nodded.
“The most stab-happy… How do you even measure something like that? Man, can you believe he’s out there with the Count while they put you behind bars. Talk about a whacky world!” Nikpmup whined.

And so prince Algot IV of Luckarette stepped on to the bridge, his retinue in tow.
“Keep up everyone!” He yelled.
Lorette kept herself close to the Prince, though Stabbity-George was never far away, licking his lips as he checked up all of her most stab-worthy spots.
By the sound of it, the troll didn't appear on the bridge every single time someone crossed it. Maybe they would be lucky. Maybe there wouldn’t be a monster encounter that time. And maybe then she could once and for all prove that she could be trusted and had nothing to do with that monster.
“GRRRHGGGGGHHNGNGGGHHHKHKKKKHH….!!!”
…Or maybe not.

“Who’s go-es there… Goin' thunky thunk over bridge where is our home is…? Toll of man drawn in marrow of man is…” The creature spoke in a loud unsettling hiss, as if it learned to talk as it was talking.
A loud thunk was heard beyond the mist was followed by the bridge shaking. Suddenly a looming shadow rose as a silhouette against the fog. A grotesquely disfigured caricature of a human with large nose, unkempt hair sticking up from ungodly places. Whatever this creature was, it towered even over the Prince.
“What in the world…!?” The prince stood in awe.

It didn’t take long before Lorette decided she did not want to stay. Of course, she couldn’t move towards the monster. But behind her…
When she looked over her shoulder, there was Stabbity-George. Utterly elated that he got the opportunity to exercise his passion.
She really couldn’t go anywhere…

“Talk about being stuck between a rock and a crazy place… In a manner of speaking.”
“For the goodness of the Chief God… Be quiet…” Lorette whispered to the pumpkin on her hand.

“We seek no rocks… we seek bones. Bones to crunch crushing between teeth….”
Something snapped Lorette out of her panicked daze. The voice… It came from underneath. She leaned over the railing, and that’s when she saw the troll's tail. It was more than a tail. A long arm reaching into the ocean. No. Not an arm. A tentacle. For a moment she saw a buxom woman with long purple hair with squid tentacles where her legs should be.
A kraken. A squid girl. It was no old-fashioned monster. It was a run of the mill monster girl playing with hand puppets.
Or tentacle puppets, as the case may be.
She sank back under the waves when Lorette spotted her.

She could hear Stabbity-George approaching, ready to follow up on his orders.
Well, Lorette had not the slightest idea on how to fight monsters. But she knew that a puppet problem required a puppet solution.
She reached behind her back, and pulled out her brave knight puppet in shining armour.
“Forstooth!” The knight puppet cried, “T’is be monsters afoot! Fear not, ye innocent bystander!”

A loud metallic shriek rang out as the knight puppet drew his sword.
Lorette was actually really proud of the ringing sound she could make. But lately she had learned that swords don’t make those kinds of sounds when they are unsheathed. Scabbards made of metal would be heavy, impractical and blunt the sword every time it was drawn.
Well, she still kept the sound. Maybe swords should make that noise when drawn.

“The fateful steel of sir Caspar Cascotti has arrived, to defend the lords and ladies wherefor, to his last drop of blood!”
“What the deuce!?” The Prince yelled out, “Woman! Are you mad?”
Lorette did not listen. She charged headfirst into the mist, where the valiant sir Caspar fought against the troll with ferocity and resilience.
“Neeh… Will not fall. Not to man-steel. Not to man-defiance… mistakes so foolish are done once only,”

The battle could be seen in the mist as silhouettes, the figures slashing and stabbing at each other.
In the end, though, the larger monster fell, succumbing to the steel in his chest with a gargling sound.

Up close, the troll turned out to be just a normal burlap sack with decorations to make it more troll like. But when obscured in the mist, anything that big could look terrifying.
Lorette stepped out from the mist. The knight puppet bowed.

“It is done. Your passage, my sir Prince. You are safe to travel.”
“...Show off.” Nikpmup scoffed.

After she ensured his safe passage, Lorette ran down towards the shore, where the kraken plopped up from under the ocean surface. That thing didn't scare Lorette. She knew it should, but after rushing headfirst at what might well have been the old-kind of monster armed with puppets, the alluring lady just looked adorable.
“So...How did I do?” The Kraken asked, an excitable grin appearing on her face.
“That was astonishing.” Lorette said honestly, “You might want to train your voice so it sounds like it’s coming from the puppet. It’s a bit tricky, but practice makes perfect.”
The kraken shone, getting all giddy from the compliment, “Thanks so much! I’m a huge fan, you know? I saw you perform out there, and I just knew I had to try it out myself!”
“Okay, yeah. Thanks! Good for you.” Lorette laughed, “But take it from someone who’s been doing it for a while, the human world might not be ready for old-fashioned monsters. How about trying it out before your fellow monster girls?”
The kraken nodded, “I’ll give it a shot!”

Lorette climbed back up and crossed the bridge back.
There, the Count and his men were waiting.

“I got it! Mr Count! I figured it all out.” Lorette announced as she walked towards them.
“Really now? You are going to reveal the truth?” The Count asked.
“But of course! It was all a hand-puppet show!”

The men looked between one another.
CLICK!
They snapped manacles around her wrists.
“By the sound of it, you need yet another meeting with ABA.” The Count said.
Lorette whined, “No. Please. Anything but that.”

“What’s the meaning of all this!?”
The one who spoke was the Prince, who arrived at the scene.
“Ah, sir Prince.” The Count started, “Unfortunately, it turned out Miss Ipsum here is guilty of a crime, which details I am at present not at liberty to divulge. And we are compelled to have her arrested. I am deeply sorry we allowed you in the presence of a common criminal, however…”
“Out of the question!” The Prince announced, folding his arms.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Out of the question! The performance she provided was out of this world! I simply must insist that we show her act before the Royal Court!”
“...Performance?” The Count cocked his head.
“Oh, but of course.” Lorette smiled, “Surely I am not to insult Mr Count’s intelligence by suggesting he did not realize it was all a hand puppet show, hmm?”

“...Yes. But of course. Of course I realize.” The Count laughed, signalling the guards to release her from the chains.
“My good miss Ipsum!” The Prince lifted the comparatively diminutive woman up by her arms, “I can assure you, you will be a star at the court! People will remember your work!”
“Why, thank you mr Prince. Can I just go and pack my bags?”

They let her do as much. Lorette crossed the bridge, finally ready to once again breath out.
“Smooth move.” Nikpmup said, “So how’re you gonna smuggle a giant high-level monster into a Royal Court of the Order?”
Lorette shrugged, “Who knows? But we’re both creative souls. I’m looking forward to finding out.”