A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1) by Ichabod Temperance Page B
Authors: Ichabod Temperance
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illuminates the dastardly Prussian's outrageous features, accompanied by that dang maniacal laughter again.
“No!” cries Miss Plumtartt, “not the Catacombs!”
“Oh, Mr. Temperance! I somehow know that this monstrous Herr Himmel has drawn upon the uncounted dead of Paris’ ancient subterranean mausoleum for his horrible army. What can we do?”
“I’m doin’ all I can, Ma’am.”
Under the ‘Beauties’ glow, the roiling miasma churning up out of Paris’ catacombs forms into scores of hideous monsters of a combined, marine and insect design.
Wind, rain, lightning and monsters chase us North, towards Rue d’Enfer. More green puffs of smoke form and burst in that direction also. The overwhelming clacking of a fifty bug monster’s exterior skeleton feet clicking on the pavement closes upon us.
There are skinny ones, like praying mantis, or walking sticks. Others seem like a bottom of the ocean style of underwater insect. These are usually of a bloated consistency. They all seem to have the same characteristic of possessing too many legs, eyes, and teeth.
I desperately try to help Miss Plumtartt along, but the futility of our efforts is becoming all too apparent. The overwhelming cacophony of insectile chitterings is maddening to my senses. Desperately slashing with the green knife, I defend this beautiful girl from the endless horrors in a maddened attempt to save ourselves. We dash northwards, vainly trying to avoid more monsters, but alas, we are completely surrounded. We have been encircled in an unthinkable ring of horror.
Scores of giant, wrongful insects are forming and then making for us. I P.E.R.K. the first one to catch us in his cephalopodal eye. I slash a leg from another one as we dodge and scramble for safety. I give a few others a swift and meaningful kick.
Miss Plumtartt directs a red-hued energy blast at an aquatic abomination. It is blasted to dangnation.
Miss Plumtartt collapses in an exhausted state, having expelled her defensive humours in that brief, crimson flash of defense. I slash with the green knife and kick with my boots, but the swarms shall soon overtake me to ravage Miss Plumtartt’s defenseless form.
Legions of demon spawn make our position untenable.
- - -
The angriest storm to hit the Continent in many years hammers Paris with high voltage punches of destruction.
The light show is so steady, it is almost a blue-tinged daylight.
I fight to the bitter end, as mauling mandibles close upon us with murderous intent.
{{{BO O O O OM!!!}}}
A brilliant lightning strike coupled with a terrific explosion bursts in the air behind us. A dissipating green cloud marking the point of ignition. The attacking hordes pause in confusion.
BAH-BAH-BUH- BO O OM!!!
Another lightning strike ends with an explosive green cloud violently blooming on a rooftop!
Now there are more and more explosions! My ears ring and I cannot hear myself scream from the onslaught! The lightning storm has turned the fury of Mother Nature herself against our enemies. With uncanny speed, and unerring accuracy, lightning strikes find every disgusting monster in Paris. Each hideous creature explodes with unbelievable energy! I am pounded by the proximity of myself to the exploding monsters. I do what I can to defend Miss Plumtartt from the concussive blasts. The light overpowers my ‘Green Beauties’ so I hastily remove them. I no longer need the devices to see my enemies. Each bolt of lightning reveals its terrible target. This strike of meteorological might shows our foes in stark silhouette. Fiends of many legs, eyes and tentacles enjoy a fraction of a second’s visibility before suffering an explosive demise. A hundred of these horrors provide a pop-up picture show across the boulevards. Monsters that are caught out upon the tops of buildings smash great holes in roofs when slain in the electric combustion. The overpowering cacophony continues unabated for what seems a small eternity. Eventually, it
“No!” cries Miss Plumtartt, “not the Catacombs!”
“Oh, Mr. Temperance! I somehow know that this monstrous Herr Himmel has drawn upon the uncounted dead of Paris’ ancient subterranean mausoleum for his horrible army. What can we do?”
“I’m doin’ all I can, Ma’am.”
Under the ‘Beauties’ glow, the roiling miasma churning up out of Paris’ catacombs forms into scores of hideous monsters of a combined, marine and insect design.
Wind, rain, lightning and monsters chase us North, towards Rue d’Enfer. More green puffs of smoke form and burst in that direction also. The overwhelming clacking of a fifty bug monster’s exterior skeleton feet clicking on the pavement closes upon us.
There are skinny ones, like praying mantis, or walking sticks. Others seem like a bottom of the ocean style of underwater insect. These are usually of a bloated consistency. They all seem to have the same characteristic of possessing too many legs, eyes, and teeth.
I desperately try to help Miss Plumtartt along, but the futility of our efforts is becoming all too apparent. The overwhelming cacophony of insectile chitterings is maddening to my senses. Desperately slashing with the green knife, I defend this beautiful girl from the endless horrors in a maddened attempt to save ourselves. We dash northwards, vainly trying to avoid more monsters, but alas, we are completely surrounded. We have been encircled in an unthinkable ring of horror.
Scores of giant, wrongful insects are forming and then making for us. I P.E.R.K. the first one to catch us in his cephalopodal eye. I slash a leg from another one as we dodge and scramble for safety. I give a few others a swift and meaningful kick.
Miss Plumtartt directs a red-hued energy blast at an aquatic abomination. It is blasted to dangnation.
Miss Plumtartt collapses in an exhausted state, having expelled her defensive humours in that brief, crimson flash of defense. I slash with the green knife and kick with my boots, but the swarms shall soon overtake me to ravage Miss Plumtartt’s defenseless form.
Legions of demon spawn make our position untenable.
- - -
The angriest storm to hit the Continent in many years hammers Paris with high voltage punches of destruction.
The light show is so steady, it is almost a blue-tinged daylight.
I fight to the bitter end, as mauling mandibles close upon us with murderous intent.
{{{BO O O O OM!!!}}}
A brilliant lightning strike coupled with a terrific explosion bursts in the air behind us. A dissipating green cloud marking the point of ignition. The attacking hordes pause in confusion.
BAH-BAH-BUH- BO O OM!!!
Another lightning strike ends with an explosive green cloud violently blooming on a rooftop!
Now there are more and more explosions! My ears ring and I cannot hear myself scream from the onslaught! The lightning storm has turned the fury of Mother Nature herself against our enemies. With uncanny speed, and unerring accuracy, lightning strikes find every disgusting monster in Paris. Each hideous creature explodes with unbelievable energy! I am pounded by the proximity of myself to the exploding monsters. I do what I can to defend Miss Plumtartt from the concussive blasts. The light overpowers my ‘Green Beauties’ so I hastily remove them. I no longer need the devices to see my enemies. Each bolt of lightning reveals its terrible target. This strike of meteorological might shows our foes in stark silhouette. Fiends of many legs, eyes and tentacles enjoy a fraction of a second’s visibility before suffering an explosive demise. A hundred of these horrors provide a pop-up picture show across the boulevards. Monsters that are caught out upon the tops of buildings smash great holes in roofs when slain in the electric combustion. The overpowering cacophony continues unabated for what seems a small eternity. Eventually, it
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