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"Oh, God, please no! You can't do this! I'm innocent, I swear!"

Edward's pleas fell on deaf ears as the white tailed deer was dragged through the forest by a uniformed police offer on each side of him, his arms being held onto by them so tight they'd no doubt leave bruises. He had no idea if their harsh hold was to try and keep him from running off or due to their own nerves at what was fast approaching.

There was a priest following them close behind, bible open in front of him, saying some sort of prayer Edward vaguely remembered from his church days in his youth, back before his life turned to shit.

Living in a small town like Little Haven (it's smallness was even in the goddamn name) there really wasn't much to do but hangout with friends at the local bar and bitch about problems that they'd never do anything about to solve. That's when she walked in, the prettiest little mare he'd ever met. Her name was Carol, new in town having taken a job at Little Haven's only primary school, and from the moment she smiled his way, he knew she was the one for him. She was smart, funny, drop dead gorgeous, the love of his life. And now here he was, being dragged through the forest to his death, accused of hers.

"I loved Carol. I'd never hurt you. You have to believe me!" Edward continued to beg as tears ran down his cheeks, uselessly tugging on the cuffs that kept his wrists bound. One of the cops sent him a dirty look but said nothing.

Edward's wailing and sobbing grew more frantic as an all too well known hole in the forest floor covered by a grate came into view. He'd never seen it in person, few did and came back to tell about it, but everyone in Little Haven new about the Pit. Like many children, Edward had been told horror stories by his parents about naughty children being taken to the Pit and fed to the monster that lived inside. It was a very affective way of getting him to eat all his vegetables. But unlike many boogeymen parents would tell her children about to get them to stop misbehaving, the creature that lived in the Pit was very much real. His sources of food weren't exactly naughty children, however.

Being a small town closed off from much of the rest of the world thanks to surrounding forests and mountains, the people of Little Haven had found their own ways to deal with the local riff raff. Simple crimes like petty theft and public drunkeness were given a slap on the wrist, a fine or a night's stay in the sheriff's cell, but more severe crimes such as spousal abuse, rape, or murder were dealt with much more harshly. That was where the Butcher came in. The Butcher was what lived in the Pit, a monster that had existed ever since Little Haven's founding over a hundred years ago, and he was the town's way of dealing with those accused of harsher crimes.

Edward's sobbing had become so intense he could hardly breath from the snot clogging up his nostrils. "Please, you can't do this. I'm innocent!"

"Would you just shut the fuck up, already?" one of the officers finally snapped at him. Edward closed his mouth with one more chocked back sob.

"Hey, we're here," the other officer said as they stopped at the edge of the pit.

Edward's entire body shook as he once began began wailing, tears and snot matting his fur as he begged for his life. The two officers simply ignored his pleas as the priest moved from behind to stand next to them, a somber look on his face. Bible still open, he turned to Edward and said, "Anything you would like to say before your sentencing, my child?"

"I didn't do it!" Edward screamed.

"For the love of..." one of the cops said with a snarl. "Just toss him in already."

His companion nodded before letting go, kneeling down to unlock the grate and, with a strained groan, lifted it, leaving a space large enough for a body. "Well, in you go," the police officer still holding him said before unceremoniously pushing him inside.

The fall was short, only about twelve feet, but Edward still couldn't help the scream that escaped him as he fell. He landed with a thud, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on his chest, the dirt disturbed around him quickly flying up to find home in his mouth and nostrils. He coughed and spluttered as he sat up, wiping his snout with the back of his hand. His ears perked up as he heard the loud clang of the grate closing followed by footsteps growing fainter as the three men walked back to town.

"No! Wait!" Edward was on his feet in an instant. "Don't leave me!" He clawed at the dirt wall, trying his best to climb up to meet the grate, but his attempts proved futile as his hands and feet simply slid back down, unable to find a rock or even a tree root to grab ahold of.

"No no no...it can't end like this..."

He looked up again, the only thing there to greet him were the night stars as they twinkled through the bars, as if taunting him. "We're out here free and you're not," they seemed to laugh. Edward sighed heavily as he looked over his shoulder. Besides the grate above, the only other way for him to go was a dark tunnel that lead to God knows where.

"The Butcher no doubt," he said to himself with a sniffle, trying his hardest not to start sobbing again. The way he saw it, he had two options: Sit there crying like a fawn or go down that tunnel and maybe find a way out. His ears perked up at the idea. There could be a way out, right? He'd heard the Pit opened up into a maze of tunnels and one of those had to open up to another exit.

With a nervous bite of his lip, Edward stood and slowly made his way down the mysterious tunnel. It was so dark that he couldn't see his own hand in front of his snout or know the dirt path had turned to stone until the soft thump thump of his hoofed feet turned into a far harsher clop clop beneath him.

He also didn't notice the steps until he was tumbling down them.

There was sickening crack and a sharp pain shot through Edward's leg as he lay a crumpled heap on the stone floor. "Oh, God, my leg," he groaned as he tried to sit up, pain shooting up and down his left leg as he did so. Something was wrong, very wrong. He tried his best to stand, using the wall that he now knew was stone as well, to hold himself up on his less pain inducing limb. He had the sickening feeling his leg was broken, and if it was, he knew just how royally fucked he was. Was he supposed to hobble away from the Butcher? Edward felt his eyes begin to prickle with tears again when he noticed something just up ahead. Was that a light? Hope swelled in his chest as he slowly began to limp towards the source of the light, his still chained hands bracing along the wall as he did so.

But the closer he got to the light, the more something seemed off. It smelled vaguely of copper, Edward unable to place exactly what it was. Still, he pushed any thoughts of strange smells to the back of his mind as he moved forward, eventually coming to a wooden door, the source of the light revealing itself to be leaking out from under it. There was a rusty metal ring in place of a regular door handle that Edward grabbed onto and gave a pull, the door swinging open with ease. It was then, to his horror, that he realised the mistake he'd made.

The stench was overwhelming, like feces mixed with that strange coppery smell. In the corner were three barrels with lids, some kind of dark fluid leaking from cracks at the base. Edward did not want to know what was in them or what those tools on the wooden table next to them were for. Why were there so many knives and screwdrivers? And why were they all so rusty? Edward's mouth grew try at the thought that that probably wasn't rust on them and what that copper smell really was.

It was then he found where the source of the light had come from: A lantern resting on the edge of the table. He slowly made his way into the room, hissing in pain along the way as he dragged his useless leg behind him, eyes on the light. He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached it and grabbed its handle to lift it up. He turned around with his lantern in hand, noticing then that there was another wooden table on the other side of the room, this one a little bigger than the one with the tools and what looked to be leather restraints on each end. He looked at the table, frowning, wondering what it could be for. His heart sank when he noticed it also had the same kind of "rust" on it as the tools. He was getting ready to leave, to continue his search for a place out of that foul smelling hole, when he heard a low chuckle.

Slowly turning his head, his eyes widened with horror as he saw what was standing outside the open doorway. The creature looked like a white boar covered in reddish patterns, far larger than any creature Edward had ever seen, with a towering height, arms like trunks and a large protruding belly. The creature was also naked as anything with a cock and balls far bigger than what should have been normal on someone even his size, practically dragging itself across the floor.

"New meat," he said in a deep voice followed by a grin showing off two rows of disgusting, yellow teeth.

"You're...you're..."

The Butcher. This had to be the Butcher. Edward felt his lips quiver and his eyes grow wide as the boar turned sideways and ducked his head, being so large he had to do that just to fit through the door.

"Little deer look tasty and antlers make good toothpicks."

Edward's eyes darted around the room, looking for any means of escape. But there was nothing. The only way out was that one door that was currently being blocked by a murderous mountain of meat. A murderous mountain of meat that was heading right towards him. Edward backed up as far as he could until his back was against the wall.

"P-please, don't. I-I haven't done anything wrong," Edward whimpered, his eyes filling once more with tears.

The Butcher leaned in close enough that Edward could smell his putrid breath, the deer doing his best not to gag in the monster's face as the Butcher continued to breath in and out, that stench hitting him with every exhale. The Butcher snorted, Edward trying his best not to gag as flecks of snot sprayed across his face. Then, with one final grin showing off those disgusting teeth of him, he yanked the lantern out of Edward's grasp before grabbing one of his antlers. Edward's scream was caught in his throat, drowned out by a moan of pain as the Butcher began to move, dragging the deer and his injured leg across the floor like he was a ragdoll.

The Butcher brought him to the table without the massive array of questionable tools and threw him onto the grimy surface with such force, Edward felt the wind knocked out of him for the second time that evening. Still trying to catch his breath, the Butcher hung the lantern on a hook just above them before grabbing onto his wrists and pulling so hard that the chain connecting them snapped. He then proceeded to grab onto one of the leather straps attached to the table. Edward soon learned what they were for as the boar strapped his wrists and ankles to the table so tight that he couldn't help but whimper as it cut into his skin.

"What are you going to do with me?" Edward said, hot tears once again streaming down his face.

"Hungry," was all the man said with a snort before turning around to grab something from the tool table.

Edward continued to cry, hoping that if he was pitiful enough then maybe the creature would feel sorry enough for him and let him go. That idea was quickly thrown out the window when he turned around again holding a bonesaw covered in the dried and crusty remains of his previous victims.

"Bad?" the Butcher said as he pointed to Edward's broken leg. He must have seen him limping and knew there was something wrong but, before Edward could answer, one of the beast's hands was on his bad leg, big, fat fingers curling themselves around his break, squeezing so hard that Edward screamed out in agony, begging him to stop.

"Yes, very bad," the Butcher snorted. "Need to get rid of."

"W-what?" Edward groaned, eyes full of tears. The Butcher placed the bonesaw on his broken leg in the centre of his thigh, Edward's eyes growing wide as he realised what he was about to go. "Oh. God no. Nononononono-"

His screams of agony filled the room as the Butcher went to work on his leg, the sickening sound of flesh being ripped apart by metal assaulting his ears. The Butcher grunted as he hit the bone, really putting his back into it as the saw lived up to its name.

"Fuck, please, stop!" Edward begged the beast who did actually eventually stop. But only once he was standing over Edward with his now detached leg in his hand. He ripped off the jean leg that was still stuck to the leg with red, sticky blood, licking his lips as he eyed the piece of meat he was clutching. He brought it up to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the still warm flesh, ripping off a healthy helping, blood clinging to his fur, dripping from his maw as he happily chewed on the deer's meat. It was then Edward realised those reddish brown markings on the boar weren't markings at all but the dried blood of his previous meals.

"Deer taste yummy," he said with his mouth still pull off Edward, drops of blood and bits of meat flying from his mouth as he spoke.

He took one more large bite before unceremoniously dropping it onto the filthy floor before turning back to his tool table, Edward's wails having turned into a pathetic whimper. When the Butcher turned around he was wilding a large screwdriver. Edward choked back a sob at the sight, terrified of what he planned to do with.

"Deer have pretty eyes," the Butcher snorted as he hovered over him.

But before Edward could register what he'd said, the screwdriver was rammed into his right eye, the deer screaming as the pain seemed to wrap itself around his entire skull. "Pretty eyes always taste best," the Butcher said as he yanked his tool upwards, Edward's eye going along with it. With a yank he snapped the optic nerve from his head and brought the eyeball up to his lips. The mixture of blood lose, pain, and the sickening squelching sound coming from the Butcher as his teeth mashed what was once his eyeball, was more than enough to make Edward throw up his last meal.

With his head still laying down on the table, he coughed and spluttered as the vomit went back down his throat and up his nose. He felt another wave of sick coming over him and he turned his head as this time most of it ended up on the floor. The Butcher seemed to find this all very amusing and he laughed as he joyfully said, "Deer make a mess! Deer make a mess!"

Edward's vision from his eye left was fuzzy with tears so it took him a moment to notice just what the boar was doing as he laughed at the man's expense. Another wave of disgust washed over him as he saw the Butcher's grotesque fingers wrapped around his fat shaft, the meat stick hard and leaking as he pumped it, still laughing at a joke only he found funny.

Edward began heaving at the disgusting sight, but his belly now empty of its contents, all that came out was a yellowish bile that burned his throat. Woozy from it all, he barely noticed the pig beast approaching him until he felt him grab one of his antlers. "Open, deer man. Open!" he said, leaving Edward confused. He tried to speak, to ask what it was he wanted, when he felt the tip of the Butcher's cock against his lips. He smelled foul and Edward tried to pull away but, with his grip tight on his antlers, the Butcher was making sure he wasn't going anywhere.

"Deer also have pretty mouth," he snorted before snapping his hips forward, his grotesque meat stick forcing its way into Edward's mouth and down his throat. It was so thick it blocked his airways causing Edward to shake and do anything in his power to try and pull away, all attempts futile with how strong the boar's grasp on him was.

A wave of relief washed over Edward as he pulled his hips back, his cock sliding out of his mouth, making it easier for him to breath. Any hopes that he was being let off easy was quickly dashed, however, when, with the tip just grazing his lips, he thrust full force so his cock found its way fully down Edward's throat again. Then the pumping began.

Edward's jaw ached as the Butcher's immense girth thrust into him and gagged every time the slimy head hit the back of his throat. He knew he was going to die there. He was going to die either by blood loss or lack of oxygen due to choking on giant monster cock. And it was all thanks to that cunt, Carol. She should have said yes when he asked her out. If she had then he wouldn't have had to bash her brains in with a brick. If he couldn't have her then no one else could, after all.

With one final thrust, the Butcher was releasing down Edward's throat, sliding out with a satisfied sigh. While Edward was coughing up a lung, his captor was grabbing for a large knife from his tool table, showing off his yellowed teeth in a sickening grin as he said, "Now, time for yummy deer heart."