Final Fantasy IV - Haunted Baron

Author's Note: As some of you read at the end of the prior chapter, I'm taking elements of FF4:TA. Only elements. Some things about it were good, others were utter shit. So I'm using a different name than Sheila, an actually good one suggested for her by first_seventhe on LJ. I think thus far, I've enjoyed writing this chapter and chapter 5 most of all, and I'm taking a slight risk with the idea used here, but I think it's worth it.


Now wasn't a time for sentiment. Edward had to remind himself, over and over, yet the images flashed in his head. Harley, the Damcyan scholar, had transformed into a quaking, moaning vampire bride. Two men had fallen to temptation alongside her, their members at the mercy of the youngest former Epopts, the eight women debasing their holy bodies as the magics that brought them undeath turned sisterly love to lust. The last images of their writhing forms continued to plague him.

He looked to one man's wife as he moved up the stairs. Beneath the furious blush on her face, Edward could see the weakness she felt at her husband's current state. He placed a hand to her shoulder.

"We'll save him," he assured.

The woman's features twisted at the offense. "Do I look like I need your sympathy? I'll have you know I'm a lady of the highest standing in Baron. I'll take care of this matter and get my husband away from those hussies like any good wife."

"Lady-"

"Emma," the woman said.

"Lady Emma, I promise the Epopts are of very good standing and behavior under normal circumstances. Something has corrupted their hearts to-"

"This is why I refused to have our honeymoon in Troia," Emma began her tirade. "I knew a kingdom known for half-naked women had to be governed by a bunch of hussies. I bet they spend their nights-"

As they rounded the stair rails to the East Tower's main floor, they paused. The sight was simply hard to believe.

"Heeere comes the briiiiide," Rosa sang.

Her veil suggested the spectre of death, her lovely visage appearing replaced by a skull. Her wedding dress, once styled pure white to reflect her good heart, was now black as raven's feathers. The sheer fabric at her chest gave a wisp of her expressive cleavage in the blue candlelight, though the torn and tattered state of her dress far eclipsed it. Her left nipple showed in plain view. Her long, puffed skirt scraped on the floor, the soaked bottom edges frayed, split from the black high heels of her left leg to the thinnest tease of her slim pubic hair. The hair pieces under her ears and in place of her ponytail clip took the motif of bat wings. Spider silk criss-crossed from foot to head, wrapping all the way to the spider hanging on the end of her free-flowing, filthy blonde waves of hair.

Rosa's withered, blackened rose bouquet became more prominent as she descended the last steps and turned, approaching Edward and his small group. Choosing to stop a few feet from them, she raised her veil, showing her makeup of smudged dirt on her pale face.

"I had Edge's brides help me fix my dress for the big wedding Cecil and I are going to have after we take over the Blue Planet," she spun once. "What do you think, Edward? Isn't it to die for?"

"YOU!" Emma shouted. "It's your fault my husband is down there with those Troian whores."

Rosa cocked her head, assessing the green-haired woman. "The lady isn't very bright, is she Edward? Hmm... I know! Would you like my bouquet? They say a married woman who catches it will have a long, happy marriage."

Edward followed his gaze along the toss. It soared, decayed petals ripping from the bouquet's stems. Stiff, dry, lifeless, thor...

"Don't touch it!" he commanded a second too late.

"Ow!"

The moment Emma closed her hands around the bouquet, sharp pricks drew blood. The crimson drips from her fingers landed on the withered mess that she spared no time in stomping into mush. She had in mind to tramp toward the Queen and remove that haughty grin with a slap to her cheek. And she would have, before a rush of energy had her doubled over, hands to her stomach to contain it.

"Oops, I guess I should have warned you: these roses have thorns," Rosa cast Haste on the Baronian noble and reveled in how quickly her transformation progressed.

Stems sprang amid the dulling color of Emma's leaf-green locks. Her skin turned lily white. The sudden rips and tears to her clothing looked like phantom magic until they revealed the mess of vines growing ever more complex. The nubs of her bosom browned and stiffened as, to everyone's surprise, sap leaked from each. Though leaves grew to conceal them and the greening lips of her sex, Emma's hands gently spread them to extract the same goo from her aching pussy. With her fingers pumping away, she raised her deep blue eyes back to Dark Sorceress Rosa... her queen.

"Ooooh. Please, my Queen! Drink from me!" Emma cried.

Rosa looked on her creation in thought. "There's only one man whose body would be to my tastes. Don't despair, I have the perfect place for you to plant your roots."

She raised her hand and chanted. Dark light rose around the newly made dryad, and in a flash, the lady known as Emma disappeared.

"What did you do with her?!" Edward said.

Rosa burst into laughter, widened eyes and black dirt eyeshadow elevating her corrupted aura into the spirit of crazy glee. "Hehehe, did you like that trick? There's plenty more waiting for you. Go upstairs for the next key... if you dare."

Right as Edward loosed another note from his harp, Rosa teleported from the room in the same manner as her new dryad.

He looked to the stairs, thoughts of the risk weighing on him. Sixteen. They were down to sixteen people, he counted. The corruption of his entourage at the hands of his old allies proved the dangers inherent in letting this disease spread.

"Stay back, I will enter first."

Did that sound as official as he thought? A year's worth of rebuilding Damcyan took a lot of diplomacy and direction. The politics of his own people... he had to learn them in the roughest method available. He always cursed his past decision to indulge in his minstrel heritage for so many years, roaming the world as a simple bard. If only he had taken his parents on the lessons they meant to teach him at an earlier age, his ascension to the role of Damcyan's king would have been less arduous on his frail demeanor.

He treaded softly toward the upper levels. Moonlight flooded through the inverse-cross framed windows. Snarls. Growls. Howls. With his group trailing behind him, Edward cautiously moved to the tower's highest room, fingers pressed against the rough strings of his chosen art.

He jumped back at the claw swipe that greeted him.

Yang Fang Leiden, master monk of the great Fabul kingdom, its new king as Fabul's laws dictated the role pass down to a man of strength rather than blood.... was a werewolf. Blonde, wild hair covered his entire body. It obscured the mass of muscles crafted in intensive training, from his sharply defined abs to his bulging biceps. The semblance of his face remained despite his full beard and long eyebrows. His earrings drew attention to the new shape of his ears, set into a wider triangular point than Edge and his vampire brides. His canines showed in his snarl, his nails sharper and stronger than any finely made claw from his castle's blacksmiths.

In ripped pants and burst slip-shoes, Yang lunged at the intruder.

"Get out of here!" Edward yelled back. "Yang-"

BONG!

Yang collapsed. His stillness allowed a better look at his long braided ponytail and the red sun tattoo on his left shoulder, remnants of his old self. More notably, the thick iron collar on his neck became more apparent as the moon's rays revealed it. Edward traced the attached chain toward the wall, stopping when he saw the sheet of purple that spilled around the busted metal binding. He observed the mystery woman's features from bottom to top.

The bottom edging of her skirt puddled lightly. An oriental dragon design's serpentine figure, golden like the rest of her outfit's details, rolled in curves around her legs on the silk-smooth violet cloth, its midsection hidden by the bellyband around her stomach. The dip of her ruqun's V-shaped chest-fold revealed ample skin, a hint of her aureoles displayed along its edge as her nipples' stiffness poked hard against the thin fabric. Above that tease, a golden necklace adorned her as jewelry, the golden band at the front dangling smaller strips to guide one's eyes toward her cleavage. Her hair exaggerated her face into one of mature elegance, purple eyeshadow and long lashes feminizing her dew-drop blue eyes.

A pair of purple bangs flowed down to the bottom of her belly band. The rest pulled tight into an ornate, many-pinned curl, rolled together toward the back while a headdress bound it all together with violet and gold ribbons. Her hair ornaments jingled with her soft movements. The long wide sleeves of her ruqun hid her right hand gripping the well-known frying pan, while the left sleeve loosely hung as far as her wrist.

"Are you okay, Edward?" she asked.

Edward stood speechless. Whenever he visited Fabul, Yang's wife kept a frumpy decorum. She never stuck out. She never dressed to impress. Through her simple ponytail, lightly wrinkled clothes and soup-stained apron, her relative plainness evoked thoughts of a simple woman and traditional housewife. He expected a radical change to her from the night's events, yet this classy dame wasn't quite what he imagined. She looked...

"Beautiful..."

The man bold enough to say it joined Edward's side, the first among the group to enter as the rest spread out around him.

"YingYi," Edward said her name. "What happened here?"

"It... it was terrifying!" her voice trembled. "My husband, he turned into a wild beast, right in front of me. All that snapping, and growling... he looked like he wanted to kill me! I was lucky the chains on the wall kept him back until you got here."

Edward's heart sank, memories of his own beloved Anna's death coming back to him like a fresh cut. "Was it... Rosa's fault?"

Yang's wife briskly nodded, "She called me a bitch and said she wanted to see how many pups I would have after Yang had sex with me. Can you believe that? I never thought such a sweet, loving girl could be twisted into something so cruel."

"Everyone's been corrupted," Edward stated. "I'm trying to save everyone. Rosa said that a key to the throne room was up here. Do you know where it is?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Her hand slithered into the V of her ruqun, and from her cleavage produced the golden key on a small chain secretly looped around her neck. "It won't help if you don't have the other keys, and Rosa cursed me to stay in this room before she left. I... I don't want to be left alone here when my husband's been changed into some monster!" She leapt toward the Damcyan king, burying her face into his shoulder as she sobbed.

Edward nearly patted her back. Nearly, because when he felt something shift under the ruqun, he recalled her intended role in this event and stepped away. "It's okay, YingYi. We're going to take care of it. Give me the key, and we will fix everything. You should be safe as long as you have your frying pan."

She lamented. "No, you don't understand! You're the only one that makes me feel safe." Stepping back, she set her crafty eyes to every single person among the group as she spoke. "Can't you studs and lasses find it in your hearts to search for the other keys yourselves and leave dear old Edward here to keep me company?"

Studs? Lasses? Edward never thought he would hear those words coming from the mouth of such a plain-minded wife. His fears rang true as YingYi spoke again, each syllable dripping with dark, scheming seduction.

"If you'll stay with me, Edward, I promise to make it worth your time. I can promise the same thing to all of you if you can save me."

"Are you not concerned for your husband?" Edward tested, her response stinging him deeper than an arrow's tip.

"Rosa told me Yang will never be the same again. It's just as well; he's been a horrible king and lousy in bed. All he knows is strength and stamina, not style. I can get that from him whenever I want now. I need someone who can pleasure me like a person, not a beast."

Her strut mingled grace and lewd gesture, blurring the distinction between class and lack thereof. With her free hand, she traced the lining of her ruqun's collar. Upon her finger reaching the bottom corner, she tweaked her nipple and softly moaned. Through her flirty smile, she eased each person into the comfort of her teasing bosom... each person except for Edward.

"Wouldn't you sexy young things like to become servants to the Queen of Fabul?" she asked.

Unphased, Edward challenged, "How do we know you haven't been changed like your husband?"

"Oh, you know me, Edward," she faked a pout. "Wouldn't you notice something strange about me?"

Edward raised his harp. "I would like to play a song to prove you haven't been corrupted."

"NO!" YingYi's eyes bulged with frantic fear for a fleeting second before she composed herself again. "I mean... Rosa told me what your harp did to her. If you play any notes, none of us will be able to stop my husband from violating my precious little gem. You wouldn't do something that could hurt a lady, would you?"

He readied himself. Her expression shifted from fear to rage as his fingers moved along his instrument. Her true colors began to surface when a faint trace of gray rolled from her nostrils as she exhaled. He pulled on a string...

"Stop him!"

He never had a chance to see which woman had shouted the command. The rushing force of the crowd, his crowd, pushed in on him from behind. His harp clattered to the ground. His body pressed against the wall. As the men turned him around, he got a clear view of YingYi's wicked smile as she commanded her new followers.

"Chain him to the wall!"

Each manacle clicked and locked. Left to hang by his arms and legs, he implored, "Can't you see? She's been corrupted!"

"I'm so sorry about his behavior," one of the women said to Yang's wife. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

YingYi assessed each of her slaves. They ranged from small to large, thin to fat, male to female, all promising to her future schemes. With her skills of persuasion, she could bed any one of them as she desired and send the rest to die for her glory. Yet, there would be more. Many more to satisfy her urges. Her disposable puppets stood in a perfect line waiting for her command.

"I need everyone to find the other keys so I can leave this tower. Everyone except...," she pointed to her choice. "Him."

"Me?" he wondered. "You want me to stay here with you?"

"I need someone to protect me. You look like a big," she cooed as she felt up his bicep, "strong man to handle my husband."

Edward was powerless. His pleas fell to nothing while the tour group he held such responsibility for milled down the stairs to their doom. He observed the lone man fold his arms. He watched YingYi take his harp and place it to the side. Defeated by the power of her temptress ways, Edward witnessed Yang's wife saunter toward the man and rub her hand against his chest.

"What's your name, tiger?" she asked.

"Alec."

"Alec, hmm?" she lilted her tone. "You deserve a little something for being brave enough to stay with me, Alec."

She tossed her frying pan aside, her hands venturing into the unknown realm of the man's pants. The heat of her breath licked against his neck as she vice-gripped his manhood and tauntingly whispered in his ear. "Ooo, such a nice, big package. You should have told me you came here with a concealed weapon. I need to get a closer look."

Edward stirred in his bindings. The decadence of Yang's wife continued to corrupt her wholesome image as she sank, her hips swaying in her downward drop to come eye-level with Alec's waist. YingYi's gaze upon him, though brief, rifled his protests with the bat of her long, curved eyelashes. His mind failed to comprehend this image. The very same woman who served him herbal teas on visits, now on her knees forcing the man's pants open and wrapping her lips around the head of the man's full length. He stared until Yang's wife pulled away. As soon as he saw a wisp of smoke trail forth, he found the strength to speak.

"Get away!" He shouted, to no effect. "She's going to kill you!" He tried again, working as poorly as the last outburst. His desperation to save the man brought one word that he thought was sure to get his attention. "FIRE!"

"Hu- WHOA!" Alec leapt back just in time, jaw dropped and body shaking at what he narrowly escaped.

Flames spewed from YingYi's mouth in a flamethrower stream. It torched the stone floor. It singed Alec's dark pubes. For half a minute, she unleashed the raw might of her fiery lungs between the man's legs. The moment it ceased, she wiped her still-soft lips and stepped back. "Aww, you moved. I wanted to use you as a sign of what you lowly humans can expect if you cross me."

"Wh...wh...wh..whh...." Alec stuttered, so stun-struck by the near-inflammation of his member that he barely acknowledged YingYi's full unveiling.

Her ruqun puddled at her feet as she let it slide off her shoulders. Smoke, a byproduct of her fire breath, issued densely from her mouth and snorted through her nostrils. Her hair rose toward the front, emulating the horns of her chosen creepshow 'monster'. Snake tattoos curled around her arms, went over her shoulders and dove to suggest forked tongues inches from licking her obscene dark nipples. The last great surprise, her leathery wings, spread out behind her back.

Her left hand snaked between her breasts and over her flat, toned belly, playing in the thicket of purple between her legs. "You humans are such pitiful creatures. All I have to do is shake my ass and you'd crawl to lick my feet. Yang, take care of this pathetic little man."

Alec jumped at the sudden sight of the hairy beast rushing at him. He managed to escape a claw swipe... but not the ensuing lunge. He smacked into the wall with the force of a sprinting chocobo, knocked unconscious once his head made contact. Slumped on the ground, his body became an afterthought as the two monstrous Fabulians switched to new prey.

"Dragon Lady YingYi...," Edward muttered. Before she turned, he saw a glimpse of the dragon tattoo on her nearest ass cheek. The hint of sadness he gave seemed to please the woman, whose malicious smirk showed fuller as her smoky maw cleared. It only occurred to him a split second later that she had a new object in her left hand when YingYi opened the fan, her serpentine icon proudly emblazoned on its paper. "Where did you..."

"Where do you think I got it," she teasingly winked. She fanned her prodigious bosom and pet her husband's head. "It's very fascinating. Back in Fabul, dragons are a sacred symbol of our culture. We would never look on dragons as monsters like Baron or Damcyan... but then, I wouldn't get to play mind games to get ahead if your people didn't think of dragon ladies as cold, ruthless she-beasts."

"This is all a game to you?" Edward questioned.

"Did you ever really think I would turn on my husband? He makes such a good lap dog. He never strays, I have him eating right out of my pussy. If he doesn't obey..." She hinted at the frying pan, suggesting its usage on Yang like that of a rolled up newspaper. Her strut toward the Damcyan king halted when a huffing, weary red-haired woman ran up the stairs.

The redhead panted. "The men, we encountered Emma and they-"

YingYi peered over her shoulder. The perfect person. The perfect position. Adjusting her wings, she gave a vigorous shake of her rump as a show to the other woman and delighted in the response.

"Oh gods!" the redhead cried and fell to her knees. Her shaved, puffy mound throbbed, her own touch releasing waves of pleasure that cascaded to her chest. She listened to YingYi intently, fixed on anything desired of her.

"Dear lady, would you kindly position yourself for my husband? He needs an outlet for his instincts, and I'm a little too busy to take care of him."

"Yes mistress," she answered. Moving to hands and knees, she whipped around for her ass to face her masters, waving it in invite. "Is this okay, mistress?"

"Perfect," YingYi looked to her husband. "There's your treat for the evening, Yang. Make good use of her."

At his wife's invite, he lunged at the woman and sheathed his hairy shaft inside her. His length, his girth, both stretched her channel beyond their normal limits as savage thrusts subdued her will to resist.

YingYi stood and listened to the grunts and howls of the pair for a moment before returning to her task. Her hand plunged into Edward's pants, slipping over his member fast enough to make him lurch. "What was that, oh great King? Are my charms working on you too?"

Edward implored, "YingYi, look at what you're doing! You're not the type of woman to-"

"To what? Play men and women for the saps they are?" She forced his pants down, her hand pumping for his seed. In her mind, she weighed its inferiority to her husband's greatness, yet her greatest pleasure came from toying with the weak-minded fool trapped in her dragon lair. "Humans are a disease, and I'm the cure. It's not my fault that I'm too hot for your bodies to handle... sometimes literally."

Edward's hands clenched into fists as he fought to maintain his... their, dignity. For such a formerly simple woman, Yang's wife had a shockingly powerful grip and talent to match the stereotype she preyed upon with her current form. His mind began to entertain the thought of YingYi greeting her husband each day before this one with a firm handjob, her strong fingers dealing him as raw and ferocious as what he currently felt through her actions. With the painted fingernails on YingYi's hands, Edward found himself imagining them as feminine claws, the beat of her wings reminding him of the monster she had become.

....and that's what she was. He replayed that phrase in his head, remembering the contrast between who Yang's wife was and who she had become: a scheming sex siren, whose mouth spewed flames and wings formed wicked gusts. Once he fixed his view of the woman he once saw as an ally, his member softened in even YingYi's capable hands.

"What... what IS this?!" She snarled, smoke coiling from her nose. She worked him at a more furious pace to bring him back, glaring at the very thing defying her cultured, trained prowess. "Nobody can resist my charms! NOBODY!"

"That's enough." Edward's voice boomed with authority. "After I take care of this mess, you and your husband will return to normal. He will be a great king of Fabul, and you will go back to your life as his loving queen... and use your frying pan the right way."

The insult was enough for YingYi to yank her hand away. "Not if I burn you to a crisp! In your last gasps, you'll wish you had fallen to me like the rest of your whorish, weak-legged kind. Prepare to-"

The harp hummed. A weak, off-tune set of notes, but notes nonetheless. Yang's wife tossed her head toward the instrument and glared at the player: Alec.

"NO!" She reared her head back to shoot a burst of flames at the man, lurching like a punch to her gut at the next note. She clenched her stomach as desire bubbled inside her. Rather than go after Alec, she looked toward her husband, heels clicking as she forced the redhead out from under him. "MOVE. I'm the only woman allowed to have her body ravaged by my husband."

Sliding underneath Yang, YingYi pressed her rump against his abs and slipped his length flawlessly into her hungry slit. Her quim cried a melody of joy that overtook her at the ferocious, bestial slaps into her wetness, regaining enough sense to her thoughts to rebound and push back with the same rhythm. Her moans, his howls, they united in passion as her pinned wings failingly fluttered between them.

"Oooh... I feel so hot..." YingYi said, smoke beginning to burst out with every breath.

Edward dropped to his feet once Alec unlatched his bonds. He took back his harp from the man and looked to the redhead, her stance and walk revealing the long drip of her lust down the inside of her legs as she moved toward them.

"Thank you, both of you!" she said. "If you hadn't helped, I would have been taken by that beast!"

"You have Alec to thank," Edward reminded. "And that man may be a beast now, but once we undo this evil, he will return to the man I would proudly call my friend. What's your name?"

"Lenna," she said.

"Lenna... stay close to me. I would hate to lose you after everything that's happened tonight."

Edward guided the two toward the stairs and urged them ahead. He couldn't help himself, stopping long enough to give one last look to the corrupted king and queen of Fabul... and see the reason the group risked this tower in the first place.

The key dangled between YingYi's wild, swaying breasts. Her face, and all the splendour of her beautified features, disappeared behind every gray-black puff of smoke that she moaned out. Edward watched its denseness closely, her thickest exhales trailed quickly by merciless blasts of her fire breath.

It would require timing. Very, very careful timing. Edward inched closer to the raunchy coupling, near-volcanic heat rising around them as YingYi's passion climbed beyond her control.

She spat, "Ooooh, Edward you bastard. First you turn my power against me, then you mock my weakness by stealing the key while I'm having sex with my husband. Have you no shame?"

"I am truly sorry, YingYi. I hope you forget this night when you recover. I would never want you to think of yourself as anything less than the simple, devoted housewife of Fabul's king."

Edward meant every word sincerely, yet her response reflected the insult she took at the thought of such an ordinary life. He could see why, too; this monster craved the opposite of her heart's true desires. His arm dove for the key, luckily missing an accidental grab of her breast and ripping the key off its chain. The venture came at a small price. Flames enveloped the sleeve of his bard garb as YingYi, fueled by lust and rage, spewed her longest volley yet. It burned through the wall's cobwebs, crept up the threaded banners of Baron. Edward managed to pat enough of the flames from his sleeve to rip it off, assessing his arm for the light burns she gave him.

"I may or may not remember what I've become, but you will," she shouted, her smoke billowing to frame her face.

Edward rushed down the stairs to join his remaining entourage, the sounds of twisted lovemaking haunting in echo after him.