The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Special thanks to Vanderbilt for letting me use her Goblins universe.

And Then There Were Goblins

Chapter 12:

I surprised myself, on the way back.

While running through the tunnels to get Cameron, to get a medical kit for the New Queen, I ran into a pair of goblins.

Before they could do anything, almost before they noticed me, I raised the pistol Bea gave me and fired two bullets into each of them. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t tremble in my aim, I even compensated for the kick-back as the rounds left the gun. I was proud of myself, and thankful for my training. I looked around, and it didn’t look like there were any other goblins nearby who could have heard it, so I didn’t stop, just kept heading towards where I’d last seen the girls.

I’ve never killed anything before, at least not directly.

By the time I got back, the battle wasn’t quite over, but Cameron was already packing up. She knew that Whip and Vernita could handle the last few, smaller waves; we have limited ammo, and there’s no sense using a gun when a knife will do. I don’t know whether they were tactically retreating, waiting for another opportunity to strike, or whether the Queen had simply exhausted her troops in the area, but either way, by the time they were ready for a second round of attacks, we hoped to be long gone.

Cameron looked worried as I approached.

“Drew?? Where’s the Queen?”

“With Bea,” I panted. “Injured. Come.”

I started to run, but before I even got two steps, Cameron hoisted me up on her shoulder and ran in the direction I pointed. It could have been patronising, but I knew not to take it that way. It was just efficiency. She was making sure I wasn’t the weak link. She was doing what needed to be done.

When we got to the entrance of the tunnel, I clambered down with as much dignity as I could muster, but before I could even point to the entrance, we saw movement.

The two goblins I encountered, I should elaborate, weren’t gunning for me. I wasn’t hitting a moving target—they were facing away from me, unmoving, waiting for the right moment to enter the battle. In a broad sense it was self-defence; had they seen me, I’m sure I wouldn’t have stood a chance, but I didn’t win a fight or anything like that. I just got behind them, and fired two bullets into each of their heads.

I’m no action hero.

When I saw the movement, that glimpse of white that means a goblin is looking straight at you, the image of those two goblins swam into my mind. I didn’t see their faces, but I feel like I could have picked the back of their bald heads out of a line-up. They were goblins, less than human, no more than the horrible beasts that mother used to make me wash the corpses of…but they had been once, hadn’t they? Every goblin I cut up, every goblin I watched the girls kill, each of them had been a person, once upon a time. Each one of them had been a little girl.

I tried not to think of them that way. They’re goblins, animals, worse than non-human. They are the enemy, and they are the reason we’re here.

I highlight that I’m not an action hero because as soon as she saw movement, almost before (like she sensed it coming) Cameron had drawn her own pistols, one in each hand, and fired at the fleeing goblin. There’s your hero.

“Stop!” I cried, and tried to pull her arms down. I may as well have tried to take her rocket launcher away from her. She didn’t even brush me off, just continued to fire as if I didn’t exist, as if I’d done nothing at all. “What if it’s her!?”

“White eyes,” Cameron replied shortly, and fired two more shots towards the shadow the goblin had stopped in. She had to reload at that point, and fast at it though she was, the goblin took the opportunity to make its escape. There was something about the goblin’s movement that struck me as odd, but I couldn’t quite place it.

My mind was racing, even as I dropped and started to crawl into the tunnel where I’d left Bea and the New Queen. If a goblin had found her, if a goblin had rescued the New Queen, did that mean it was over? Had we lost? Or would we just have to turn around and capture her for a second time—this time, without the element of surprise on our side?

That goblin’s movement, it…it had been strange. Even with my limited experience, I could see that. It was almost as if it had known where Cameron was going to fire before she fired…it was almost as if she knew Cameron’s firing style…as if she knew Cameron…she…

It all clicked at the same time as I reached the spot where I’d last seen Bea and the New Queen. I lit a match, not knowing what I would see, but with a dark knowledge of what wouldn’t be in front of me.

I was right.

The New Queen looked up at me. She stood alone, a triumphant grin on her face. She held out her hand, like a child asking for help crossing the road. She didn’t say anything.

Cameron was immediately behind me. As soon as she saw the New Queen standing free, Cameron tackled her, almost crushing the goblin in the process. I don’t know how Cameron manages to fit everything on her person, but in her pockets she had both rope and handcuffs, and within a minute, the New Queen was securely fastened.

“Where’s Bea?” Cameron asked, and when I didn’t answer, turned to look at my face. My expression must have said it all, because it only took her only a few seconds to work it out.

I can’t imagine ever seeing Cameron cry. It would be like seeing Whip deliver a speech, or Vernita cuddle a puppy. It’s just not in their nature. I don’t even know if Cameron and Bea were particularly close; they’ve gone on dozens, perhaps hundreds of missions together, but when you’ve been around as long as Bea, you’ve been on dozens of missions with everyone.

I can’t imagine ever seeing Cameron cry, but the look on her face when she put it all together was as close as I ever think I’ll get.

As quickly as the look appeared, it was gone, and Cameron was all business.

“We’ve got to let Vernita know. Bea knows all our plans, all our strengths and weaknesses.” Cameron looked at the New Queen with disgust. “And that means now so does she.”

“We’re going to have to throw the book out and start again.”