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.Black Leaf and Marcie are Dead!	By : keithcompany Category: Comics > Chick Tracts Views: 3656 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story uses characters based on Jack Chick's tract: Dark Dungeons. I do not own those characters and make no profit from this fanfic.

Chapter List
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After a game-week in the City, Wizard and Sage were resurrected, everyone else had been healed, the treasures were spent and the Inquisitors were starting to gain on Redcloak. The party returned to dungeon delving.

This dungeon was much more difficult. The man who'd made it was still inside, somewhere. Traps reset themselves, making Black Leaf the party's leader.

Death Dealer was still in charge, but they never went anywhere until Marcie's character had disabled the traps.

One night, she missed one.

"The thief," Frost intoned, "Black Leaf, did not find the poison trap, and..." She read one of her dungeon notes and shook her head. "I declare her dead."

Marcie lost it. Ever since they'd gone to 'Iron Man,' she'd teased everyone who died or was wounded. The mocking had gone on at Frost's house, at their homes, and even at school.

Her popularity was tenuous at best, this was going to be a rough week for her. With Black Leaf gone, the others would to their best to make Marcie die of embarrassment.

"No, no, someone save me," she cried to her friends. They looked impassively back. She turned to the GM. "You can't do this!" But she could. That was the point of being a Game Master. The rest of the party repaid Marcie every measure of scorn and derision she'd shown until she stormed out of the room.

Death Dealer stalked towards the body. "What do you think?" he asked Redcloak. "Nipple earrings?"

"Be sure to put that on your character sheet," Frost reminded him. She sat back with satisfaction as the players stowed the body and discussed how to proceed. Marcie was going to be isolated, as Frost had desired, and the silly girl had done most of the work herself. Now to see who the girl turned to.

Just to make it interesting, maybe she'd keep Debbie busy. During a break from the game, she called a few friends from the bathroom. Gene, an amateur movie maker, had a giant pentagram painted on the floor of his studio.

A few more rounded up the 'coven' that had been featured in some of his movies.

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At the end of the game session, Minerva had Debbie wait in the living room. When they were alone, she broke the good news to her.

"Debbie, your cleric is 8th level, now. It's time to show you...the REAL POWER."

"Real power?!" Debbie asked.

"Yes, you have the personality for it, now," Frost assured her. "Let's go."

Half an hour later, they were in a barn outside the outskirts of town. Terri, or 'Guidestone,' handed Minerva her robes. "Welcome, Flame-Blossom," she said, keeping a straight face. Eleven other robed figures were scattered around the interior as she introduced 'Elfstar' to the coven.

Minerva sneered inwardly as Debbie drank in the details. "It's just like I always imagined," she said. Frost couldn't help noticing that there were too many people. Debbie was supposed to be their 13th member, 'completing' the circle. Goddess, they'd done it two dozen times before the camera!

They'd also put the altar on the side of the pentagram. Not in the middle, or completely outside, but on the lines, breaking any energy or protective flow. Honestly, Frost didn't know which was worse: the inept prep or the way Debbie swallowed it as Gospel.
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Minerva crossed the room to search the other dresser. Where was the hibiscus balm? As she passed Mike, she asked him a question.
"Hey, Mike, you've read the Harry Potter series, right?"
"No," he said, "Dad doesn’t approve of such things." The statement brought the woman to a halt. She turned slowly to stare. Mike crouched naked on a wooden chest at the foot of her guest-room bed. He held two feather dusters under his armpits as wings and a dildo was strapped to his face as his beak. And clenched between his butt cheeks was a large marshmallow. He had to hold that there until the timer went off.
If he did, he was a rooster. He got to decide where the dildo went. If the marshmallow fell, if he 'laid the egg,' he'd be a hen. That would make him a 'woman' for the rest of the night, and Frost got to wear the rubber toy.
She imagined explaining the rules of this game to Mike's father, and further imagined him happily noting, 'At least he wasn't watching or reading Harry Potter!'
Shaking her head, she went on with her search. "Thing is, when Harry finds out that magic is real, that he's a wizard, he gets a wand, spellbooks, a familiar, wizard robes...."
"Yes?" Mike said, but his attention was focused on the timer.
"Well," she went on, feeling around in the lingerie drawer, "the first thing Debbie did was to 'cast a spell' on her father. One from the game, apparently."
"Did it work?" Mike asked.
"Yeah," she snorted. "She mind-controlled her father for more gaming supplies. What kind of a graduate works at getting better with the screening program? Aha!" she shouted, scooping the balm up from the floor beside the dresser. Just as she did, the buzzer sounded.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" Mike shouted triumphantly, tossing the dusters to the floor and standing to pluck the 'egg' from his behind.
He slid the straps over his hair, aiming the dildo at her.
"Well, well, well," she said, hiding her disappointment. "Your grip's improved. Have you been practicing?"
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.Black Leaf and Marcie are Dead!