Mansion of Madness! - Chapter 6

The clack of their footsteps rolled into the library’s depths like pebbles bouncing off the walls of a bottomless well. 

“Well,” said Erza, bringing her hands together with a clap. “I suppose we should start searching. If there’s an exit in here, hidden or otherwise, we’re not going to find it simply standing around and talking.” 

“You want us to search this…?!” said Weiss, swinging a motley-clad arm at the library’s endless, book-filled depths. “Do you not see how big it is?! It’s going to take us forever!” 

Erza folded her arms with a frown. “We’ll split up,” she said, after a moment’s thought. “Weiss, you’ll come with me. Samus, you take Gura. Emilia will go with Nicole, and Freiren…” 

As one, every pair of eyes in the group turned to the last member of their little octet, who was licking her paw and cleaning her hair, an act stifled somewhat by the fact she had a hat on now. “...You can go with Baka.” 

Fortunately, Freiren was too focused on the books to be upset by this.

“Wh-what if we all get lost?” asked Gura.

“Hmmm…” Erza thought about this for a second. “Freiren, can you make more of those little lights?” 

It took a second for the elf to register she’d been spoken to. She nodded. 

“Can you give them to other people?” 

“I can make them follow you,” she replied.

“How long will they last?”

“Around half-an-hour, if I’m not sustaining them.” 

“That works,” said Erza, a smile returning to her face. “We’ll all take one of Freiren’s lights, and we’ll use them as a timer. Once they run out, we’ll all meet up back here and share our findings, okay?” 

“What if we get lost searching?” asked Nicole.

Erza’s smile dropped again. She thought about this for a second. “Try not to.” 

*

Pair by pair, the eight of them dispersed, leaving Erza alone with Weiss Schnee, just two cute, curvy girls looking for a good time in the library. Their curse-swollen assets bounced and jiggled as they walked, announcing their presence with a clamor of claps and bowoings. Freiren’s werelight floated over their heads like a balloon on a string, bouncing a little itself, as if to emphasize the theme.

“This is ridiculous,” said Weiss, her gigantic shoes adding some squeaks to the orchestra of their curves.  “How are we even meant to find anything in a place like this?” 

“If we were being rigorous, it would be best to pick one shelf each and go through the books methodically, left to right, top to bottom, and so on, until we find something, but I’d prefer to get a general view of the place first, just in case there’s a big door marked ‘exit’ in glowing letters at the other end.”

“Do you really think it will be that easy?” 

Erza shrugged. “I don’t see what other options we have.”

“We could set this place on fire, for a start,” said Weiss, who, like many clowns, was very jolly.

They came to a stop at the start of another aisle, its contents marked in clear letters on the shelf. “Fantasy/Science Fiction,” said Weiss. “Ugh. I can’t stand that genre.” 

“What’s wrong with fantasy?” asked Erza. 

“Fantasy is for fantasists,” Weiss replied bitterly.

“What about fairy tales? You don’t mind them, do you?” 

“They’re even worse! They’re for childish fantasists!” 

Erza smirked.

The two came to a stop halfway down the aisle and looked up. The stacks surrounding them stretched endlessly upward, shelf after shelf of books rising past the floating candles dripping wax overhead and on towards the ceiling hidden in the dark above, assuming it existed. After several seconds, Weiss groaned in despair. “This is impossible!” 

Erza, meanwhile, turned to the nearest shelf and started scanning its contents. Purride and Purrejudice, Mahou. The Great Catsby, Mahou. Moby Penis Lmao, …Mahou. Were all these books written by Mahou herself? 

“Do you actually think that idiot Faunus is right? That we’re going to find a secret door like this?” asked Weiss, sounding unconvinced. 

“There’s only one way to find out,” replied Ezra. She snatched a book from the shelf and flipped it over to read the blurb: “‘When a dark power rises from the earth, the peaceful kingdom of Fephtee is plunged into chaos. Only the royal princess knight, Scarlatina, can save the kingdom with the power of her magical sword and armor. With the help of a fire-breathing acrobat, an animal tamer, and their pet cat, she sets out to defeat the growing shadow before it can plunge the whole world into darkness.’ That sounds familiar.”

“Probably because it’s so clichéd.”

Ignoring her, Erza opened the book with a creak from the hinge. Flipping to the first page, she started to read: “As Princess Scarlatina strode into the ballroom, her noble sword as ever at her side, she couldn’t help but catch sight of the handsome Count Blueblood looking down at her from the balcony, his deep, sapphire locks the perfect complement to his beautiful eyes.’ …I quite like it, actually.”

“Oh, well, by all accounts, have a read,” said Weiss. “I’ll just plant my butt on the floor and wait. It’s not we’re ever going to escape this haunted house anyway!” She did as much–her bloated buttcheeks made a gigantic clap as they hit the floor.

“I will,” replied Erza. But as she read on, hoping the book would say more about the handsome Count Blueblood, she felt a tingling in her hands, as if it were alive and breathing. A part of her brain rang the warning bell, but she was so entranced by the story, she took no notice. Right up until the moment she flipped the page and, without warning–

<SKILL CHECK: ERZA - AGILITY …PASS!>

–she had to leap back to avoid the tentacles springing out of the pages. 

Weiss screamed, scrambling backward on her butt, and Erza dropped the book and retreated with her. Striking the floor, the tome lay there wide open, the tendrils emerging from its pages still flexing and coiling, lapping at the air like hungry tongues. 

“On second thought,” said Erza, “I’m not a fan of fantasy either. Let’s try non-fiction.” 

“Let’s,” said Weiss, struggling to her feet.

*

Emilia winced as she walked. Each time she took a step, the blouse and the skirt of her ‘office lady’ outfit seemed to pinch her a little more. The former clung to her breasts as if plastered to her skin, so tight that she actually found it a little difficult to breathe. “I-I am beginning to regret my choice of outfit,” she said, as they turned the corner into another identical aisle of shelving. Freiren’s werelight floated serenely overhead, flickering. It seemed infinitesimally smaller with every passing second.

“You think you’ve got it bad?” said Nicole, stopping midstride in order to spin around and face her. “Look at me!” She raised one of her ‘stripper boots’. “I look like I spend my evenings wandering the red-light district!” 

“I–I’m afraid I don’t know what that means,” said Emilia.

“It means I–” Nicole shook her head. “Never mind. You don’t want to know.” She cast her eyes over the shelves and came to a stop, head cocked. “Huh, I didn’t realize which row we were on. I guess that’s appropriate.” 

“What is?” said Emilia, baffled. 

Nicole grabbed a book from the shelf and tossed it into her hands. “Do you read a lot of romance, princess?” 

“R-romance?” Blushing, Emilia raised it. Love’s Shackles, read the title. Its cover depicted a beautiful woman in a low-cut dress leaning into the arms of a handsome, well-built man wearing little more than a pair of shorts. Very tight shorts. Emilia turned as red as Weiss’s nose. “I-I can’t say I do,” she said. 

Nicole smirked. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try one then. Go on, have a flick through it. I want to see your reaction.” 

Swallowing, Emilia opened the book to a random page and started to read. “As Silver approached, his riding crop in hand, Janette shivered on the bed, straining against her restraints and wiggling her posterior teasingly, as if inviting p-punish–.” With every word that left her mouth, her face turned a little redder. “Silver purred and unzipped his pants, t-taking his p-p-pe–” She started to quake on the spot, looking like a rocket about to take off.

Finally, Nicole slammed the book shut for her. “Maybe that one was a little steamy for someone like you,” she said, placing it back on the shelf. She picked out another one. “Maybe this one is better suited to your tastes.” 

“The Princess’s Pleasures?” said Emilia, accepting it from her. With a frown, she opened it up and started to read. “Princess Emily had always suffered from a secret desire, one which no one in the kingdom could support: she wished for a lover. Sadly, her father had condemned her to the nunnery, and her hopes of finding one were most slim. Until she saw the handsome Sir Sebastian at her father’s latest ball.” 

“Better?” said Nicole. “This one isn’t quite so spicy, is it?” 

With a brief nod, Emilia continued to read. “One day, as Princess Emily was tended the flowers of her private garden, she spotted Sir Sebastian watching her from his horse…” As the words spilled out of her mouth, Nicole took up a spot beside her, and together the two huddled together and read in unison, barely noticing how bright the book’s text seemed to have become.

The two continued to read for the next fifteen minutes, but despite Nicole’s promise, it wasn’t long before things took a turn for the risqué. “‘Oh, Sebastian,’ said Emily, leaning on his really very hard chest, ‘I must confess, it is more than mere love I desire. The fire in my loin can only be sated by the hardest, the firmest–’.” 

Emilia bit her lip. Despite how… how lewd it was, she found she couldn’t stop. The book, or perhaps, more accurately, the sensation it was producing in her body, was like an addiction. Blushing, she wiggled her thighs and tried to ignore how hard her nipples felt. She knew exactly what Princess Emily was talking about.

“Go on,” said Nicole, with a little laugh. “What did you stop for?” She was blushing as well, though her fellow reader seemed considerably less affected by the book’s contents than she was. For some reason, the thought Nicole might be experienced in reading books such as these made Emilia feel even hotter.

She wet her lips. “‘Oh, Sebastian!’ cried Emily, spreading her legs. ‘Oh, Sebastian! Have mercy…! Oh, I can’t take your virility anymore… Oh! Oh! Oh–!’”

“Wh-what happens next?!” cried Nicole. “Hurry up, flip the page! Flip the page!” 

Nodding fast, Emilia wet her finger, pinched the corner of the page to flip it, and–

–and with a great flash, the book exploded. 

<SKILL CHECK: NICOLE - TOUGHNESS …PASS!>

<SKILL CHECK: EMILIA - TOUGHNESS …FAIL!>

Even as a flustered Nicole leapt back in surprise, Emilia simply stood there, too caught up in the story to move. What was happening–? Was this…? Was this what it felt like for Emily and Sebastian to finally make love? 

Only as the tentacles coiled around her arms, wet and sticky, did she realize it might not be part of the narrative. She squealed, struggling to pull away, as they tightened their grip and started to drag her forward. 

“Emilia!” cried Nicole. 

Emilia’s fingers met the book, disappearing into the paper as if it were no more solid than mud. With a fresh gasp, she fought to pull away, but the tentacles’ grip on her remained firm. “H-help!” 

“I’m coming!” Rushing over, Nicole grabbed her by the waist and started to tug. It didn’t make much of a difference. Tightening their grip on Emilia’s limbs, the book’s tendrils flexed and fought to keep pulling her in. Emilia could only squeal as her hands disappeared into the pages as well.

“J-just hold on!” cried Nicole, screwing up her eyes and giving Emilia a great tug backward. It succeeded in pulling Emilia’s hands out of the pages, but not for long: a second later, a stray tentacle caught Nicole in the face, sending her recoiling with a squeal, and Emilia shot in up to her elbows. 

“Nicole! Nicole, help me!” Even as her Nicole struggled back to her feet, looking dazed, Emilia found herself sucked a little deeper into the book’s pages. She was in almost up to her shoulders now, and with every second, her face came a little closer to plunging into the depths. Already, she was so close to the pages she could see the little imperfections in the paper, the tiny bumps and creases where it ceased to be a smooth white plane and became something far complex. “N-Nicole! Nicol–mmmmphf!” Her lips struck the gutter of the book, as if she were giving it a kiss, and a second later her whole face was underpaper. 

With that, the book had her, and it wasted no time in reeling her in, snatching her feet off the floor and dragging her entire upper half into its pages in an instant, leaving only her legs sticking out and kicking in terror. At last, they slipped through too, leaving her to squeal as she tumbled through a vortex of swirling words and bawdy illustrations. “Help me!” she screamed, as her clothing dissolved, stripped from her skin like so many wisps of smoke. “Heeeeelp!” 

Just as suddenly as she’d fallen, she landed: blinking she looked around and squeaked to find herself sitting on a luxurious queen-sized bed, clad in nothing more than a purple négligée and lingerie. “Wh-what–?!” 

The door of the bedroom creaked open, and into the room slid a man Emilia recognized instantly. Tall, handsome, his exquisitely-carved body better suited to a sculpture… and wearing nothing more than a very very tight pair of pants, he was even better than she’d imagined.  

“Princess,” said her lover. 

To her horror, Emilia realized she was pouring. “Oh, Sebastian,” she said, lips moving on their own. “Quickly, come in. And make sure the door is locked.” She winked. “We don’t want any interruptions now, do we?” 

*

Nicole, stumbling forward, could only stand there and watch as Emilia’s feet wiggled one last time and disappeared into the book as well. “E-Emilia?” 

With that, it fell to the floor and slammed shut. “Emilia?” Approaching, she extended a hand and, after a momentary pause, picked the book up. The cover had changed, she realized in horror–instead of the generic princess from before, it now depicted Emilia herself, cupping an apple and casting a sultry look at the camera.

<ITEM ACQUIRED: THE PRINCESS’S PLEASURES>

<Read this in bed when nyou’re feelin’ cold an’ lonely! I guarantee it’ll warm nyou up, nya!>

*

“So, what’s nyour favorite flavor of glue?” said Baka, skipping happily ahead of her. 

Freiren, her eyes tight, mumbled a wordless response and tuned her out. For multiple reasons, not least of which that she was concentrating on looking for spellbooks–the library was enormous, and there was no guarantee that any spellbooks that were in here would be clearly marked, let alone placed out in the open where they could be seen. More likely they’d be tucked away into some dusty corner no one would ever find them unless they were looking for them. And for all she knew, that had been accounted for as well. Maybe they were hidden in the rafters!

The other reason was that Baka had giant boobs. Inhumanely large and supernaturally perky boobs, which insisting on bouncing around in her top and producing bizarre bowoing sounds, as if they were full of springs. It was especially annoying because by all accounts Baka was rather small otherwise–in fact, she wasn’t an inch taller than Freiren–as if all of her mass were concentrated in her chest. And probably most of her brain matter, actually.

“Well?” asked Baka. 

Freiren realized she’d ignored a question. “Hmm? Oh, I don’t have a strong opinion on the topic?” 

“Nyou too, huh, nya? Me nyeither. I just eat whatever I can get my paws on.” 

They turned the corner and found themselves at a dead-end. Freiren paused, looking around, and sent her werelight to illuminate some of the darker spots of the shelves. This looked like a suitably dreary spot to hide a spellbook, didn’t it? 

“Baka,” said Freiren. “If you were an evil witch, and I’m not saying you are, but if you were, where would you hide your spellbooks?” 

“Hmm…” Baka scratched her chin, looking thoughtful. “If I were an evil witch, I’d hide my spellbooks in the last place anyone would ever search for them!” 

Freiren cocked her head. “And where’s that?” 

“In anyother book, nya! Nyou know, like people hide guns and stuff in them! Like that!” 

Freiren frowned. “...Thank you, Baka, you’ve been very helpful.” 

“Nyou’re welcome, nya!” 

Ignoring her completely now, Freiren scanned the shelf, hoping to see something out of place. She was hoping, somewhat vainly, that the more important books, spellbooks included, would have been removed and replaced more recently than the others, thereby accumulating less dust. It wasn’t guaranteed, but this seemed a more efficient approach than spending the next twelve hours going from top to bottom. 

Finally, her elven eyes settled on a book that seemed markedly less dusty than the others, stacked several meters up. “Baka, can you grab that for me?” 

“Sure thing, nya!” Stretching her arm like a piece of half-dried glue, Baka grabbed the book and planted it in Freiren’s hands. “Ta-da!” 

“Thank you, Baka.” Now that she could see it up close, however, Freiren couldn’t help but be disappointed. “How to Write Plot Twists for Dummies?” she read.

“Oooh, that’s a good one…!” 

With a sigh, Freiren went to hand it back to her. Just as she was about to let go, however, something arrested her. “Wait.” 

<SKILL CHECK: FREIREN - INTELLIGENCE & WISDOM …PASS!>

Snatching the book back, Freiren flipped through it, revealing page after page of magical diagram and formulae, all practically glimmering with power. Closing it again, she peeled off the dust jacket, exposing the true cover of the book in all its magical glory: MISTRESS’S MAHOU’S BIG BOOK OF NARRATIVELY-CONVENIENT SPELLS! (NOW WITH EVEN MORE DEUS EX MACHINA!) …By Mahou.

Her grin stretched all the way to the very edges of her face. “Baka,” she said, “you’re a genius.” 

Baka folded her arms, looking insulted. “Well, of course I am, nya. I have a degree, nyou know.” 

“Oh? What in?” 

“Creative writing.”

***

Their return to the others was less triumphant than Freiren would have hoped. “What’s wrong?” she asked, as they approached–everyone else seemed to have arrived already. Everyone save… Oh no.

Nicole sat on a stool in the center, a book in her arms, wiping her eyes as if it were a really sad one. Weiss stood at her shoulder, trying to console her, though her giant boobs and clown costume really weren’t helping.

“What happened?” said Freiren, though she’d already worked it out herself. 

“Emilia was caught by a trap,” said Samus, indicating the book in Nicole’s hands.

Freiren froze for a second. In her haste to find a spellbook, she’d almost forgotten about the traps. In retrospect, it was a miracle she hadn’t stumbled upon one herself. 

“Well, this is just great!” said Weiss, having given up on restoring Nicole’s spirits in favor of ruining everyone else’s. “Now we’re two people down. And we still don’t have a way out of this nightmare.” 

“Ooo, ooo!” said Baka, bouncing on the spot. “Me and Miss Freiren found something that might help! Didn’t we, Freiry?” 

Freiren watched her boobs rise and fall, rise and fall… “Yes,” she said, eventually. “Though I can’t make any promises.” 

Producing Mahou’s grimoire, she flicked through it to the back. It was one of those convenient modern spellbooks with an index, which made it trivial for her to find what she wanted. Or fail to, if it wasn’t there, as turned out to be the case this time. “Hmm… Well, I’m not seeing anything that could reverse a transformation,” she said, after a moment. 

“What about, like, an escape spell?” said Gura, hopefully. “Something that’ll teleport us outta here!” 

Freiren scanned the list again. “No, nothing like that,” she said after a moment.

Weiss groaned. “Is there anything useful in there?” 

Freiren frowned, her eyes squinting in study. “Well, there is one spell that would be helpful in our immediate situation.” 

“What spell is that?” asked Samus. 

“The ‘Find the Door of Mahou’s Mysterious Library’ spell,” read Freiren, voice flat. 

“That’s very specific.” 

“It is a book of narratively-convenient spells.” 

“Who cares about that?! Just hurry up and cast it!” cried Weiss.

With a sigh, Freiren flipped to the appropriate page, scanned the instructions, and started to speak the incantation. As she chanted, the book flashed, emitting streams of magical light, which swept across the room and left the shelves behind them glowing. Even as they turned, the stacks shook, spilling dust, and, as if with immense reluctance, started to part like a pair of stage curtains…

…revealing a big door marked ‘exit’ in glowing letters. 

“Naturally,” said Erza.

Cautiously, Nicole still clinging tight to Emelia, the eight–seven of them crept closer. Erza wrenched the door open, and as one they poked their heads through. 

The sloshing of waves and the distant hiss of showers struck them immediately, accompanied by the unmistakable tang of chlorine. 

“Is that…? Is that a swimming pool?” asked Weiss.

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