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Quick Kills No.8

Scale and Sin

By Ezekiel White

There was no rest, no trial, no shred of doubt on the man's guilt for who he himself had grown rather silent as our travel drew on. I was beginning to wonder just where we'd end up, if the eagle would keep his word, and, what he had in store for the good doctor.

"Everybody out." Tall, light, and tan barked, the cub and I were the last two out, watching our collective prey drug to stand on his pulped nubbins. We seemed to be in the dryer outskirts of town, nice and dark out, quarry maybe, it was just as empty as anywhere else. We filed in a relative line toward a nearby building, inside was lit, looked to be a retired shooting range, busted stalls on one end, lead catch on the other. Awaiting us was the commissioner, he stopped them, kneeling in front of the bear, ripping off his mask. Underneath sat a normal looking man, gagged, bloodied, terrified but otherwise normal, well kept even.

"So you're the fuck responsible for this." *click* Such a bastard of a click, screens that were generally hidden from view ignited with the foul acts and sounds he'd perpetrated. Nathaniel's cries, every scream, every tear shed as he was brutalized mind, body, and soul. You could see the terror in Docs face, you could tell he understood the brevity of his situation. Surrounded by seven monsters, all dawning darkened looks as the tapes drew on, each screen looping something awful.

"He's all yours boys." Their movements were practiced and mechanical, in less than a minute all five stallions had him stripped, bound, suspended, as the dragon had been.

"You did as you said you would, and you found Nathan." Two solid grunts from behind finished the eagles sentence, my eyes wandered just in time to see a fist crack Docs jaw loose, the stud I'd admired mounting up, dry from what I could see.

"As we agreed, here is your saw." He slid it over to me by foot, my eyes hadn't left the scene of mass rape. The only things you could hear were dull thuds from hands taken without protest, claps of a rough ass fucking, and grunts of those slinging dick.

"And the little one?" Feathered tips caught my attention, gesturing me to fork him over, I did so reluctantly,

"He'll get home?" I asked, transfixed on the doctors fate,

"You have my word, he'll end up back with his family." I half nodded, maw bent in a frown, displeased I hadn't had any time with Doc.

"And him?" Looking onto horse cock being force fed in both ends, shafts dressed in congealed globules of brown and red, shattered teeth spackling at the front.

"My boys will have their fun until their new toy breaks and then some. He won't do this ever again." Those words echoed in my mind as re-bar tossed down concrete piping. Is this what it looked like when I did it? It somehow felt inhumane, yet I knew he deserved it, no, no something's not right, he's not screaming, why isn't he screaming?

"You can stay and watch if you like, after that this place is getting demolished in the morning. I'm gonna take this one to the hospital." I wall floured watching our equines "group activities" with a disturbed sense of uncertainty, not once during the forty five minutes I watched, did that bear make a peep. Not, a, sound, as loads rotated through for the next mighty boner looking to inflict ruin and havoc upon Doc's insides.

"You rang?" The cold shrill presence of a miasmic cloud walked through the very wall I leaned against, icy daggers gripping my shoulder as if death itself had recognized an old friend. Sure enough, gradual as it were, that fox peered through sheer stone, coming from just behind my right. His yellow teeth as untouched as his hot corpse baked breath, shiny comb over leaking a fresh bit of excess pubic grease,

"About fucking time." I'd almost forgotten about this little arrangement, jaw cocked, side eye fully engaged, it wouldn't take much to crush his throat, just an elbow,

"Sooooooo just because you put blood on the glass doesn't make you a priority, it simply puts you on the list. I've had several inductees ahead of you." Just, an, elbow. He continued, my eyes had wandered back toward dinner and a show,

"The bear, you want him to scream?" I nodded,

"You want him to lament the agony of a guilty conscious, forced to face the music, to serenade the heavens upon his cross, so to bare?"

"I don't understand how he's not." True since this started he'd gone limp, almost as though he were numb. It bothered me since he was obviously being punished, but, I couldn't grasp how he seemed to get out of it, even now. We both stood silent, watching five stallions breed and beat a lifetimes worth of karma into the ursine man. Church grinned,

"I'm jealous we're not the ones doing that. You understand just how many ways the mind can break, yes?" Once again, a nod,

"Then my guess would be that he's not with us at the moment. Most likely off, reliving some memory as a movie while it plays out again." The limp bear choked, gagging on his own spitool as his throat and rectum were plunged mercilessly, their scent had long since wafted it's way over, casually owning the room.

"I believe its time to go, we have much to do." Church added,

"Go where?" Looking around,

"Home." He ushered a hand to my shoulder, the black shadowy fog I'd seen him come and go through opened in the wall just by. Whatever I'd sought out of the normal, just passed the veil, I was about to meet. Whomever I'd called out to in the middle of the night, I was about to see. Wherever I had not yet tread, I was about to know, and I'd hungered for it my entire life.

*****

We stepped into a smooth room temp space, no clearly defined dimensions but your feet hit a floor. You could see off into infinite black yet your hand found a wall if you reached for it, a hallway in the infinite expanse of space.

"Right this way." The fox gestured, there wasn't much light coming from the other side, more like stepping out of a freezer, mismatched air temps skittering off as black whisps. Water, my first sense molested was the smell of life giving liquid, then, an innocent candle lit glow. It was a bog or grotto, a small mound of dirt in the middle of a stand alone pond. Edges of which lined by large roots descending from overhead, we had to be under some monster of a tree. It's roots clambering down over various grave markers, skeletal remains littered everywhere. Even the classic candlelit skull sat over one headstone, greeting us with an empty stare and wax dribbled makeup.

"Oh what sights I have to show you, little dragon." Church grinned a crayon dirty yellow smile, his mist disappearing from behind. I could only shrug, I am, where ever I am now.

"Life is but an experience." I answered, my words throwing a bit of composure to him.

"Right you are, follow me." Trodding off through the surrounding pond, it wasn't deep, just barely enough water to soak ones laces. One edge of this place opened up to a large brick lined hall filled with an orange glow, its walls comprised of large retainer sized bricks. Church stopped right at the mouth,

"Before we go any further, I need your toy." He gestured to my saw,

"Not that you're a threat but no one new is allowed to be armed, with anything. Here," Church pointed to an open stone coffer,

"Place it in here, should you be accepted by our ward, you'll find it in your quarters." That sweet bitch curiosity got the better of me,

"And if I'm not?" Church grinned a familiar smile I'd grow to know all too well. He leaned in, bony hand on my shoulder,

"I have faith in you." That moldy cheese smile parted, sharing an equally offending blast of rancid oral musk. Why was I getting hard at the thought of ruining him? Fear and excitement are but a stones throw from each other I suppose,

"Come." He added, watching the stone lid slide shut of its own accord, my saw sealed away with Church leading on.

"Oh, interesting choice of toy by the way. I mean, tell me you're a cliche without saying a word." My brow raised, what is this? A dick measuring contest,

"Haven't actually had the chance to use it, usually I have a cleaver or whatever the world grants me." A solid, average, answer I thought,

"Ah, adaptive, you might just do well here." He turned, drawing a cold steely blue revolver, cocking it's hammer, pointing it in my right eye.

"I prefer this." Oh please, do it, no more cock suckers to deal with, silence and an utter lack of enthusiasm for his bullshit was my answer.

"A gift from the eternal side of things. It swallows souls and makes a lovely mess doing it." His grin grew wider while I starred back,

"I'm sorry, I don't recall, who fucking asked?" He chuckled, relaxing the hammer, barrel pointed skyward,

"I'm curious to see what you'll receive, if any." He holstered up and lead on, the hall right angled before immediately opening to a wide circular chamber. With arms wide open,

"Welcome to Sanctuary." He proclaimed, there was a large statue in the middle, round base, a bakers dozen worth of disembodied tentacles reaching up from the deep frozen in stone. Braziers, torches, and floor fires scattered throughout, their glow and crackles breaking up incoherent chants. Hooded figures tended the fires, knelt in worship, robbing coffins held up in the walls.

"What are they doing?" I asked, none of them any different than the next, deep red robes accented by the occasional gold trinket.

"Worshipping a god that will never see them. They ramp things up the longer they're here based off of what I tell them." He points to one of the figures climbing down the wall, freshly removed femur in hand. Once back down, they took one end and began shoving it up their ass, masturbating while two more pissed on them. He chuckled,

"I see." My eyes took in the sights, narrowing on a combination of symbols emblazoned on a single grand plate decorating one side of the statue. Cold stone, smokey fire as incense teased passed my nose ring, and something, something alluring, it's source keeping itself hidden.

"And what god is this?" Pointing to the statue,

"All in good t-" Church started, three figures running up and kneeling before him,

"My Watcher, we have been diligent in our studies, done everything as you've stated. We believe we've deciphered part of the plate." Church grinned, raising his left hand, gesturing for her to do so as well.

"Then rise and be seen my initiate." He stepped, flipping back the speaking figures hood. She was human, your typical, short pink haired punk type, facial piercings, but a hopeful look in the eye. Church held her head, hands on the underside of her jaw, a palm for each corner. In that moment we saw the real Church, a smile shown from those special moments, when prey was in your very hands, and all, yours. Inner jubilation raised the foxes brow flags, a grimy set of bear trap teeth on display, set, ready to snap shut, devouring its catch. I'd never watched another in their craft until today, energy flowed through Church's wrists. Both thumbs turned inward, claw tips plunging through jugular veins, digging and scratching torn chunks of neck out amongst a fountaining of blood.

I fanged a lip, holding a coat half over my groin to hide the insurrectionist member while she shook in his hands. Coughs spackled the foxes face red making him squeeze harder, that distinct snap of her trachea followed. Church squeezed and dug until she was limp in hand, finally letting her drop,

"Your quarters, my Watcher?" The still knelt figure, a male, asked a very euphoric fox.

"Yes," He hissed, adding ". . . bring her blood in a bucket." The two remaining figures acted quickly, walking off carrying the girl by head and feet. He turned to me, smiling from within a pleased haze,

"Shall we?" We walked towards the far end where the chamber split into a root ladened corridor branching into paths. I took a bit of each one as we passed, peering into see whole other worlds just a few steps away. One was dark leading off to a lagoon like we'd arrived in, another spouting crackling fire and thunder, one more leading into an almost oceanic cave. It was rank with the scent of seawater, the opening soaked and slick, I looked off into the abyss, staring, something, very clearly, stared back. Only one more caught my eye, and it wasn't so much the scene but what lived within.

Lush trees and fauna filled a view right out of a fairy tale, healthy shrubbery alive with thriving forest life. I watched for a moment, in awe of such, out of place beauty stitched to nightmares with only a step or two separating them. Three shirtless men walked from a shrub line, it took me a sec but I noticed horns on their heads. A second more they were no longer men, stepping into view, their lower halves were of goats.

"Satyrs?" Church leaned back, peering inward, sharp smile oozing with fetid, fecal feasting delight.

"Careful, they'll devour you in ways you've only dreamt about." Just as he spoke, two of them skittered off, deer spooked in the woods, the third, stayed put. Seemed he was very aware that he was being watched, looking back straight at me. The alluring scent from earlier smacked my snoot, cinnamon laced with a pungent touch of musk that ran its greasy fingers down my backside. His hair was gold, spun by the heavens themselves perhaps, those eyes shared a look that didn't budge.

"Come now." Church called, chuckling, I looked to see he'd gotten rather far ahead, turning back for one more look to see he was gone. Scurrying along, I rejoined Church,

"You know we used to have a unicorn too?" That perked my webbed ears,

"What happened to it?" Church half turned smiling,

"I fucked it." I'd come to learn that there were no, real lines with this dude, a sadomasochistic psychotic hell bent on the brutal sodomy of life. There were two lines of his, I eventually found, but that's not for here, not for now.

"Here we arrrrre." We stopped, like all the other openings this one was unique, it's entrance a hallway sized bloody vulva. Church tickled a small spot up top, the freshly stubbed camel toe quivered and belched open, coughing fresh crimson over us both. Our entrance greeted by a noxious fish rotting stench,

"The ward lives here?" I asked holding my nose, Church smacked it away,

"Breathe, you'll get used to it. And no, you'll meet her tomorrow, tonight, you're with me." I took a deep breath nodding, that stink instantly searing important inside bits. I'm used to breathing fire and holy hell even that was hot in my throat,

"Besides, you're bleeding. May I?" He spoke as we sauntered through a dark fleshy canal, up ahead was light. I'd let go of my side when we arrived, the doctor was rather out of practice and his work had begun seeping.

"Sure." I was used to garage healthcare so assumingly, I agreed. Should've known otherwise as he spun around, latching his muzzle upon my gash. Oh the schlurp of that nimble fox tongue, as delicate yet intrusive as a ballet dancer performing a pirouette directly over my spleen. Would've been better suited on my cock, all in good time I suppose,

"Down boy." I palmed the top of his head and stiff armed him, Church stumbled away but caught himself. Lips covered in red he quickly lapped up, eyeing me with that excitement I'd seen earlier,

"Uff~ You taste good." That fox would've looked real good forced up against a wall in this dark dank slip of a hall. "Soon." I told myself, he grinned leading into the light.

"Mi casa es su casa." He waved open arms offering up a slice of this cannibal necrophiles paradise. I thought I was bad, there's always a spicier dumpster fire out there. The smell would've been unimaginable if it hadn't already sterilized my insides of it's offensive existence. First and foremost, you were met with a jacuzzi, filled with bubbling tripe and bile, several bodies sat anchored in place, gently tilting from side to side.

"Feel free to join the party, they are a lively bunch." He passed smiling with a half head turn back, dragging one finger along an edge. I looked them over briefly in passing, all three at various stages of rot, a bloated bile green pig ready to pop, one croc more bone than scale, and... a donkey. His head sagged toward me, gash flopping open showing a stirred mix of old to fresh semen and gray matter. The eyes somehow rolled right into mine, it was Shawn, he should be nothing but bone by now, yet here he is, starring unto the vessel, tugging it's heart strings. In all of this, he's the only one I considered a tragedy, misguided, stupidly innocent, killed by negligence, stupid, so fucking stupid. If there's one person that ends up weighing my scales and sins, I hope its him.

"I am... So sorry, Shawn." My words were accepted, taken by the corpse as he slumped forward, face disappearing under roiling mess.

"Come now, there will be plenty of time for reunions later." Church cackled, the rooms curvature flared, opening up to a massively rotund flesh cavern, ceiling back a literal spine while ribs bore down appropriately as supports.

Macabre trophies littered the chamber floor, items that were more, "whole" lined its walls, several specialty pieces hung with absent care. One such piece, I believe the aforementioned unicorn, looked to have been crudely taxidermied. Forever enshrining the look of horror from it's last few terrible moments, the skin patchy with bruising, face gaunt and shrill. Life drained from it's eyes, slowly, over a long period before the thing was finally decapitated for this bastards wall. Still further in was an out of place luxury sized bed, pristinely white bedding peaking out from a half drawn comforter that looked to eat you. Passed that sat a devilish looking treasure chest, take a mimic chest and a devil, give them a bottle of whiskey in a locked room. This would be the result of that night,

"Where are we?" The absurdity even had my head shaking,

"Would you believe the inside of a whale?" Casual, his answer was, casual, for what ever reason, sense had decided to pipe up among the internal choir, even though the conductor was violently flipping them off.

"No seriously, where the fuck are we? I don't believe half the shit I'm seeing." From behind I knew his face bore that goddamned smile. Even before he turned, coat tossed on a bed post, lithe furred chest on display, chiding in approach,

"Awwww what's wrong? Does the big bad dragon want me to take him back to his wittle pipe?" This mother fucker, our eyes locked, strolling around from the opposite bed side until his face hole again, insulted my nostrils. Church leaned across, over my left, belching foulness into an ear,

"May I remind you of your, "commitments" And how it's far, too late for you to back out now." I felt a prick on my lower back, the fox pulled back that stained piece of glass and spun it between two fingers. The heat in my face was palpable, I don't remember the last time my eyes glowed like this. Church was in my sights, he had the spines of my back erect, anyone else would've pissed themselves, but he, he enjoyed it. Head cocked, grin engaged, leaning in,

"You want this, don't you?" Gesturing to himself, I began to shake, livid, looks like I'm about to break my rule, and, . . . . I did. In one fell swoop my hand found his throat, the other his belt,

"Ope." He began cackling, grabbing my wrists as he was lifted overhead with ease, several steps toward the wall and I slammed him on the pole ponies horn. Bloodied keratin swirl erupting with arterial spray, Church's still beating heart pierced on its tip. Hohhh the look on his face was one I'd yearned for since laying eyes on him,

"Ha,ha,ha,haaa" Elated surprise laughed through crimson strands glueing his teeth together, waving against coughs. My little fox, I finally had him, latching muzzles I could taste the life leaving him, even through the overwhelming bitterness. Our tongues danced in a crimson ball until his fell still, Church's breathing stopped. It was just me again, except in whatever hell this was.

"Yeah, I do." I growled, our lips barely apart, I left him to hang on the unicorns revenge, sat upon his bed, facing that chest. Internally pontificating my half shattered rule set, no kids, no innocents, although from the looks of things, this dude was anything but. Innocence, that word and its meaning has become so perverted, distorted from it's definition. Now it's whoever has the louder, more dramatized, emotionally charged brigade of useful zombies that claims its mantle. Oh well, existence had a good run, all we can hope to see toward the end is stupidity being punished. Sorry, tangential existentialism is a facet among the thinking killer, or so I would hope to think.

That chest of his bore the aim of view, never really gave it much thought as to what lay inside, nor did I care too. Until the lid moved anyway, why not right? Anything goes in this cemetery circus, its wood blackened ash, the metal edging a shiny reflective black. In place of traditional smooth round top rivets were spiked horns with a steep curve, the lid clicked at me while under exam.

“Fucking excuse you.” I moved, tail slipping from the bedding, no stone left unturned at this point. Just as my claws touched the cold black steel, a large wet furry mop slapped over my back, its wretchedly foul head spewing living filth that scorched across ones nose.

“I call her, PANDORA BAAAAHAHAHAHA!” Those words carried their weight in a foul stench I was learning to recognize as its own body, Church, hung over me, bleeding down my wings. His paws gripped full of roped dragons mane, reeling back upon them with a fervor of taming the bucking bronco,

“Careful! SHE BITES!!!!!” I could see just below me, that chest I so desired parted on its hinges, top flipping a full one eighty. Where there should haven been treasures and trinkets sat a tongue of fairy tales, teeth guarding its edges, the beast called to me, yearning to taste my flesh. And Church, was more than eager to feed his roomy,

“I just love cocky fucking pretty boys like you, they bleed the BEST!” Despite the egregious compliments, a stick like him is pretty easy to out brawn, still, a boot to the back of the neck does complicate things,

“SCREAM FOR ME!” He belted, wrenching my hair, this was exactly why I kept it short, the look always scared normies but no asshole was ever able to grab it. I was able to curl an arm around over a trap, shoulder clicking free of its socket, small price to pay for finding Churches boot tongue,

“FUCK YOU!” I answered, swinging my upper torso forward and pulling a whole fox leg over me, feeling him lift off the ground with ease, flying face first into that creature was satisfying to say the least. The chests jowls slammed shut, crunching both forearms and his pelvis while muffled cackles escaped, I watched, Pandora, chew and swallow her meal, not a trace, not, a, single, shred of fox was left. From the comfort of Churches bed, a sort of, odd calm came over the quarters, just an outright funky little slip of horrors, filled by the white noise of a jacuzzi.

“I like you, you’re fun.” One could imagine my disappointment when I saw Church walk from one of the rooms darker corners, forearms correcting themselves as he walked, upper torso hung half off the shattered pelvis. He dropped trou to realign himself with a very pronounced and crunchy click, leaning against one of the beds posts, leg half wrapped around it, dainty paws gripping the structural shaft, face blasting that fucking gross smile my way,

“You’re bleeding on my bed.” I glared at him, unsure of my methods for the first time in awhile, sure enough, my side slip hadn’t stopped its estrus.

“What of it.” His grin sharpened while strolling around toward me, wasn’t until the red furred scarecrow stood just between my splayed legs I-, or was he more of an anorexic mummy? Anyway, he laid that fur and bones body into mine and we fell back. I vaguely remember the lithe weight of him on me, breathing that mustard gas from his lungs into mine as maws locked. Like two chainsaws clashing at full rev, somebodies chain was coming off, and it wasn’t going to be mine, the full rake of his dug in claws straight down my chest didn’t help. Church fanged my lip, corner tooth piercing it completely, there was blood in the water and both of us were hungry.

Just as he lay atop me, as real to touch and taste as one could be, he vanished, only shadows above me, I felt my belt uncoil and my pants followed suit. Then Church reappeared as if he hadn’t just phantom stripped me clean, straddling my waist cowgirl,

“You want me?” He asked, hoh boys and ghouls my scales were on end, I growled a low,

“Yeah-“ A sharp clap cut me off, he’d managed to turn my head straight sideways and ring both ears with an open palm, Church leaned down, words traveling at the speed of smell,

“Do you, want me.” I didn’t look at him, my fist balled and swung, cracking him square in the jaw, right on its hinge, and hard enough to send him face first into the pillows. Church cackled laying face down, I loomed over him, little shit even raised his tail, taunting with a wink, only to kick a knee out and drop my snout right into his pucker. It’s ok, I wrenched that bitches ass close by tail and knee, uff someone hadn’t put up this much of a fight before, or I hadn’t let them. Just as I’d lined up for a strike,

“Easy big-“ I rammed it home, dry, I could feel the sear of his backside as he froze,

“FUCK!” Church whipped around, thought he went to slap me until those claws dug into a cheek and ripped my fucking face open. Red freely dripping all over his back, one good crack on the nub of his skull shut him the fuck up, made that tight little skin sock grip right up too boy lemme tell ya. The foxes body was all mine, or at least I thought so, rabidly clapping away at my hard sought after prize, happily fucking any real sense right out of myself. And just when I was about to cum, *poof* the little shit pulls his shadow bullshit leaving me twitching, aching cock covered in shit and blood left to free fall back toward the blue depths below.

“MOTHER-FUCKER!” Shouted into the black abyss of Churches room, only for it to cackle back, taunting,

“Ooooh I see you’re not afraid to get dirty, to, take, what you want.” More laughing followed, filling the room, I sneered at his banter, touching my cheek to see claws covered in running crimson. Naturally I slicked my hair back, frustrated as all hell,

“Lay, down.” This was a horrible idea but silence shoved the cackling out, even the beloved jacuzzi cesspit seemed to hush up. As soon as both wings were planted he was back, straddled, starring me down with a uniquely new look, like gazing into a wood chipper, screaming it’s brutality to the world but also, craving you inside of it.

From there the night devolved into pure carnal conquest, no piercing was left untorn, no curiosity left to the bewildering wiles of the unknown. Scales were rent, fur torn away, claws packed with curled chunks of flesh, no square inch of skin left un-bitten, every hole licked or sucked, any rod ball or nipple painstakingly teased and squeezed until well passed being painful. The room was rank with sex and death and I, I loved every second of it, wasn’t until well into the night, maybe even dawn, impossible to tell, we collapsed, one final pain wrought orgasm for us each.

The scent of rot had become normal to me, rocked asleep by the gently bubbling and bouncing of bodies, even Church held himself to my side, head laid to my chest for a snooze. I no doubt believe he was listening to it beat, wondering, what it would feel like in his palms, or, how it would taste. Our embrace was cozy none the less, bodies beaten to hell in the pursuit of lust, hohhhhh, if there was ever a moment I could die happy, it would’ve been there.

As cozy and spent as we were, something just had to run itself up my leg, a spider in the night it felt like. I reached down swatting at the thing only to feel it expertly dodge a palm and zip right past the belt line and it became, much longer and nubile all of a sudden. An intrusion of my persons was enough for me to shoot upright, I’d almost wished to have slept through the ordeal, almost. There was no spider, only a serpent slithering through the shadows, there was no point in kicking at it though I did anyway, Church was passed out off on his own side of the bed. I sat up swinging only to see it sway and delve under both hands, piercing my navel, it was no serpent, only a long winding band of silver razor wire sliding inside my belly with ease.

Never thought being gutted could be such a turn on, the blades arrow head digging right through intestine, tickling and slicing my insides until it found its new den, nesting in my belly while the rest of its tail slipped in. I froze, shivering hands held just over the nests entrance, I was now host to whatever had penetrated me, my cock wouldn’t sit down, even when it decided to burrow upward. The slithering body spinning its bladed thorns as it moved, slicing ribbon patterns up my throat. I wanted to throw up but every wretch just felt caught on a lump of sharpened steel wool moving at its own pace, eventually sliding out to curve back, starring at me from my own maw. Bloodied tip glaring angrily,

“Good dreams?” I heard Church ask, my scales were soaked in sweat, surrounding bedding in a similar state, I felt for my navel, no hole, new ones anyway. I looked over to see Church happily humping away at two limp grey wrists tied over head to a bed post,

“Do you, ever, shut off?” I growled, he laughed, stepping to the side, showing me his throbbing dick fully engorged in Shawn’s limp, cold, mouth,

“Oh come now, he’s not using it anymore, C'mere.” He went right back to fucking the donkeys lifeless face, reaching back to lift his tail and part both cheeks, winking.

“I know you want too~” My body spoke for me, cock still rock hard and aching from whatever the hell that dream was, in need of slating. I stacked up and we fucked for hours, wasting the morning brutally screwing away any and all pleasure from the act, left over dead wrigglers, shit, and blood our only lube.

Corpse fucking aside, I was getting used too him, just as we’d finished again he let out a sigh,

“I suppose I must take you to Ms. Liberty before long. Get, out of me.” I let myself stop twitching before unsheathing the sword from its stone. I’d say we put ourselves together before leaving the finely perfumed den of ass, cum, and corpses but there wasn’t much to collect. Not for long we’d traversed to a particularly dark section of the main corridor where Church stood, looking a tad nervous.

“What’s wrong? My little fox. Something the matter.” That subtle little dagger needed twisting, nerve turned to temper with him shooting me a look of fuck you and dare I say it. Worry?

“You will, respect, the ward of this place. I actually like you, so far, don’t fuck this up or I will let everyone and everything have a turn with your body.” I was half tempted since it sounded like a good time but chose better, for once, as for the very darkness we stood within light began appearing, running straight directions in a square, outlining a door.

If there was ever a space to illustrate the range of this place, our wards quarters was it, an odd nod to sinister majesty stood as we entered, smooth black marble everywhere, red pillars held black linen covered sections of wall. It wasn’t large either, at least what could be seen, we broached its breadth rather quickly standing before a matching lounger wrapped in exquisite red leather, patterned by golden buttons next to an older wooden tube Tv. The screen hissed static at us, screaming an incoherent slurish screech and belting imagery of everything I’d done, every, single, last blasphemous act on display at blurring speed.

Opening with Mike and I’s fancy last date, he looked so enamored, hopeful he’d found someone like him, the bedroom romp that followed to him getting sucked under, shredded bits covering me and, our last kiss, ugh, my heart~ Not for Mike, just how simple and fun this little hobby used to be, gore, violence, and dastardly sex, my how times change. To the priests slaughtered, their fear it’s own living fiction, watching as the rabbits face burned down before plummeting to pavement below. The closet chamber of rot guarded by its studious ursine contributor and the swinging meat hole he transformed into. Innocence abated the young Shawn, tumbling down that access shaft, fragile brain egg clapping open in one glorious pop, if I was to claim guilt in any of this, it would be for him. Then again, if you’re not a monster you’d do well not to seek any out, for play, pleasure, or otherwise.

One impressively lead orchestra while Mrs. Byrd kicked, writhing under chain as I took my fun, there was something seriously off about that one, I wasn’t under any rush, no, agency to it. Good kill play can’t roll out if you have all the free time in the world, then it’s just, morbid, I still enjoyed it don’t get me wrong just not the same. Those two wolf cubs watching as their groomer was drug off, bloodied, a fine meal for a carnivore like me, his body fed easily and sprayed out the other end of his chipper. THE SOUNDS, the sounds, I’ll never forget them, replayed in above over the shoulder view, somehow watching it replayed on a tele made the experience whole. And of course the good doctor, how Nathan had fought right up until where it mattered most, then it was on, haha, I missed out on “caring” for the caretaker, although somehow I feel like he caught something worse than I could ever muster. I do work alone after all.

My eyes were too transfixed on biographical cinema to catch the presence of a female entering nearby, that or she was just that sly,

“Church dear, is this your new project?” As soft yet strong and motherly as a voice could be, I turned to see a feminine figure not taller than either of us, covered in libertine themed copper blue armor laying on the previously vacant couch.

“Yes mother, he shows. . . Promise.” She looked to me with that face mask, never mind that, her presence is what threw me off. The only being still to this day to possess such an imposing energy, you felt it, couldn’t not feel her wrap you up in that cozy comforter laced with lye. As great as she was you could only tell she was near if she wanted you too, walking, well not walking, gliding. I wasn’t trying to start anything with her, had no reason too, dropping my gaze as she neared,

“Look at me, Ezekiel.” I hesitated, slowly looking up only to have my chin gently raised by feathered wing tip, the whole appendage extended from the mid of her back. She raised my gaze to look into the void pits of her mask, there was, nothing, not even the glisten of moist bits, no soul, as if living void space had been given a suit of armor to inhabit.

“I, am Lady Liberty. Ward of this realm you now call home, a Valkyrie of mortal myth, and Listener for our Master, the Maw.” Liberty held my eyes, locked in place while speaking, the whole time I could feel her, reading me, not looking at but through me, placing my soul upon a scale and weighing the balance.

“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Liberty.” Couldn’t help myself, rural decorum ingrained as deep as rings on a tree answered where I probably shouldn’t have. All I got back was an amused half chuckle, a silent stare, and a question,

“Why are you here, Zeke? Why hath my watcher brought you before me? Most importantly, what can you do for the Maw?” Fuck if I know lady, this crazy asshole gave me glass, I bled on the thing and now I’m here, a card player at a table full of fellow monsters and their tricks. That would’ve gotten me eviscerated or skinned alive, pleasant thoughts and certainly worth the laugh. However,

“He seems to enjoy my hunting methods, Mam.” She tended to accept that, looking through me, tipping weights between scales until settling with the results.

“I’d welcome you into our fold, however, usually I do so with a gift from the Master, what beguiles me about you is, I have no gift to give. So, either, you’re truly nothing of note, OR, it has already been given to you.” Liberties tone elevated with the heir of rare interest, examining me silently before departing for her throne,

“Show him to his quarters, and Ezekiel.” My eyes hadn’t parted from her, she was truly a spectacle to behold,

“I’ll be watching.” Tone as bold as her aura, Church lead the way, back to the hall and even further inside past the black, relatively silent. The fox snapped, shoulder checking me to the wall shoving that beloved revolver of his into my neck scales, mad look to the eyes,

“Hmmmm I wonder, just who are you then?” Fine but crazy, always, the fuck was he on about though,

“What?” I asked, when nuts is the norm, you can’t really impose upon someone by shoving a gun in their face,

“Just who, are, you? Hmm? Even I got a pistol, why are you so fucking special?” Ohhhh jealous someone else is getting your “Mommy’s” intrigue? That, that actually tracked for this dude now that I think of it, was viciously all about her while not even appearing on the radar, at least, not how he wanted to.

“You brought me here bud, I ain’t shit.” Our matched glares could’ve started a fire if something flammable were caught in the between,

“Hah! And don’t you forget it.” He let go of my jacket collar, slapping me playfully twice over,

“This is yours by the way,” He pointed to a set of smooth stone double doors, the swinging entrance to a mausoleum, stone triangle arching a roof overhead. They parted easily with the press of one hand, cool fresh air greeted me, it was dark, too dark to see, bit musty.

“Get settled, don’t be afraid to poke around, this is your home after all.” Those would be the last words I’d hear from him for a good long while, that nasty smile he departed with as he slammed my quarters shut will live in my memory freely every time he comes up.

It was dark, iron banded braziers sparked to life, their jutting coughs flickering, illuminating my path ahead. Deep blued river rock held up with roots and old train rail timbers made a four walled mining tunnel, the torches would only ignite as I drew near and a sloped walkway only saw me heading down, into the depths. In small stretches of one’s arm my path was fleshed out, the cavernous opening several dozen meters deep made sure any escapees would have to make a break for it, directly in line of a fire blast. I adored the thought, almost as much as the actual chambers I’d been granted, it was a hall sized mausoleum tucked right under this large trees root ball making it both large and cozy at the same time.

The floors were smooth solid stone while the walls became more fibrous with roots filling any gap. Toward the front sat a large king sized sarcophagus with four coffins slotted in the wall just behind, a rather macabre headboard if I ever saw one but I wasn’t going to open them, not just yet anyway. There really wasn’t much else to said space, a rather thick fog began pouring in, obscuring the floor but it was just that, ambiance, nothing more. It did serve to highlight a piece I’d subconsciously ignored, a large display pedestal off right as you walked in, as I approached, one vascular root tendril the size of an adult python hung down directly over its middle. The end roots curling, searching for something to latch onto, naively, I offered it my left hand, rookie mistake. At first it was rather nice, dainty rootage exploring the cracks and crevices of my claws until it found the opening it desired, shooting in between my ring and middle finger a solid four inches, slowed by the boney obstacle of my wrist.

“FUCK!!” I shouted, this is my place, lethal enough to kill the ignorant and a fine trap for the weak. Ripping back repeatedly yielded no luck, it even felt like it had worked its way passed the growth plate, roots hungrily tunneling as living wires up forearm flesh. So naturally I raised the body snatching tendril toward my mouth, letting it grasp for the moist warmth of my insides, crawling back just around my uvula until heat, raw living fire chased it back up the root. One low, moan came through the dirt above as if the tree itself were in pain,

“Serves you right fucker!” A much deserved chiding while its rather intrusive tendril peeled out with ease, I tossed it on the pedestal and turned away. This place seemed great, and it was all, mine, as if sensing my satisfaction the lid over my new bed slid open of its own accord. I could see inside, the bedding that awaited me were very fine and comfy looking, in the best colors of course. It was here, for the first time in a long time I’d even thought about sleep, then all I could feel was the unforgiving weight of exhaustion,

“Oh, fuck it.” I’d hose off later, practically collapsing into the bedding that swallowed me whole, sheets of black and red crashed over me as bath water, this was fine. Before I could even register the lid had slid itself shut, leaving me to float on a bed of air, in still, absolute silence. Nothing to see, no sound to hear, even the bedding sought to disappear leaving me aloft, lost in an endless sensory void, it was so peaceful. I don’t know when sleep took me, I didn’t care, if this was to be my tomb, so be it. It’s cozy.

Is this what home feels like? Chaotic yet peaceful and inviting with an ever-looming threat? I kinda like it, feels, familiar.