FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Amund sat back to admire his handiwork. It wasn't everyday you got to move all the furniture and paint arcane sigils on the floor. Well, at least for Amund. There were probably lots of people out there who did it for a living. That wasn't the point. The point was that Amund had only done this once and he was pretty damn proud of himself. He looked around the small one-bedroom apartment and wondered if he should have prepared a bit better. He didn't have any naked virgins chained to the wall. No skull adorned altars. No black robed acolytes carrying devices of a mysterious and arcane purpose. What he did have was a small candle, an old sofa that had been pushed against the wall, and a large runic circle painted in a rather tasteful duckegg emulsion (they were out of red). The circle had taken close to two hours to complete, though given its complexity Amund was surprised it hadn't taken longer. He lit the candle and placed it at what he hoped was the 'crown' of the circle. He picked up his scalpel and switched off the light.

The circle was surprisingly well illuminated by the single candle, and despite the paint, looked suitably sinister in the gloom. Amund still wasn't entirely certain this was going to work, but there had to be some basis in truth for all these myths, legends and stories. They had to come from somewhere. Amund stood just outside the circle, holding his hand over the center. Using the scalpel, he sliced the side of his hand, dripping blood onto the center of the circle. The blade was so sharp he didn't even feel the initial cut. He was careful not to make it too deep. No sense in going to the hospital if this didn't work (though he really hoped it would). He stood there for a few moments until a small puddle of blood had formed. Withdrawing his hand he waited. He felt like he should say something, but the instructions were explicit. He was to say nothing. He only needed the rune circle and the blood. The book had been ancient. So old in fact, it was little more than dust and mould when he found it. The only page that had been salvageable had been the one with the summoning circle and the instructions.

He'd done his research of course, and could find nothing on the Internet or in libraries about this particular circle. No one had ever seen it before. The only bit of readable text on the page was a single word in Phoenician. It translated to “Leviathan".

Of course Amund had looked up what Leviathan was. Now he was either summoning a gigantic sea creature, or one of the Lords of Hell. He was kind of hoping it was the latter. A giant fish probably couldn't give him what he wanted. After about five minutes he went and got a bandage for his hand. When he came back from the bathroom, the circle hadn't changed. Nothing much had, except that the candle was now five minutes shorter. Maybe there had been something missing from the page? This can't be all he had to do. He sighed and sat down next to the circle, resting his head on his hand on his knee.

After ten minutes he got up and made himself a cup of tea.

After twenty minutes the candle went out.

With a sigh, Amund got up and went over to the light switch. Before he could switch it on, a dim glow illuminated the room. Amund's heart suddenly began to race as he turned back to the circle. The whole, dizzyingly complex patter was glowing. The blue light rippled over the floor, more like a liquid than light. It seemed to flow out from the circle and wash over the furniture. Amund approached the circle, the light lapping around his feet.

He felt excited. Could it be that it was actually working? Magic was real after all! Amund had to stifle a squeak of excitement. This was insane! It was actually working! The light had spread to all corners of the room by this point, sloshing around the sofa and lapping against the walls. Amund realised he had been holding his breath and let it out slowly. Even if nothing appeared in the circle, this was a massive step forwards! Magic was real and he could do it!

And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light was gone. The room plunged into darkness.

“Ahh… fuck." Amund swore.

He shuffled through the room and switched on a small table lamp, the soft yellow light replacing the strange blue light. Amund turned back to the circle and nearly fell over. Sitting in the circle was a snake. Not a wild snake, and not a normal anthro one. This one was all tail from the waist down. The torso had four arms, and the head had four eyes. Its scales were golden and the ventral scales were silver. Amund couldn't discern a gender, though that was hardly one of his main concerns right now. There was a four armed, four eyed, golden snake in his living room, sitting on its coils inside a magical circle he had drawn himself.

He realised he had been staring at the creature for far too long. He tried to gather some resolve and spoke to it. Well, squeaked at it.

“L… Leviathan?" He managed. The golden snake tilted its head, ice blue eyes glinting.

“Not… Leviathan? Maybe?" He asked.

The snake raised a hand, and reached out. A ripple of blue light spread out from around its fingers. Amund looked down and realised that a section of the circle was glowing.

“Curious…" The creature said, It's voice was soft, neither masculine nor feminine. Almost like a mixture of the two. It reverberated oddly as well. Amund couldn't think what it reminded him of, but it was strangely pleasant.

“I have not seen this magic used for over three thousand years." It continued, turning its head and locking it's gaze with Amund. Amund had by this point regained enough composure to do a little more than squeak.

“Uh… good evening?" He ventured.

“Interesting… a human… I think this has the potential to turn into a good evening…" it replied.

“Uhm… I'm… err… wait…"

“Hmm?"

“Leviathan?"

The creature laughed. It was the first laugh Amund had heard that he would describe as 'beautiful'.

“Almost. I am his avatar. His messenger. Much like the Metatron is the voice of God, I am the voice of Leviathan."

“Wow."

“Surely more comes to mind than a monosyllabic stutter?"

“Sorry, I just… It's just… You're real! It worked!"

“Of course. The magic is old, but no less potent now than it was then. Now tell me, why have you summoned me? Why would you wish the attention of my lord?"

Amund bit his lip. This was the moment he had been waiting for. This was it. Now or never.

“I want power."

The serpent sighed.

“Typical. You mortals never fail to disappoint." It said.

“It's not like that. I don't want it for personal gain."

“Oh?"

“Do you know what's happening in the world right now?"

“Of course."

“Yeah? Well I want to stop it."

The serpent gave him a quizzical look; its eyes almost glowing with curiosity.

“What do you mean? What do you want to stop?" it asked.

Amund rubbed the back of his head. It had been a simple enough request, or so he thought. Though if humouring this… demon? – he guessed that's what it was anyway – was part of the process, he'd just have to put up with it.

“I want to stop… well, everything. All the shit that keeps happening. I want to stop wars. I want to protect people. I want to stop poachers from killing endangered animals. I want to stop corporations from killing countries. I want to help people when earthquakes fuck up their homes. I want to… I… just… I want to help. I want to help so bad it tears me up and I can't do anything about it because I don't have any power! _That's _why I summoned you. Or Leviathan. Or whoever. I wasn't even sure if this shit was going to work. Summoning demons? Fucking hell, who've thought that was even a thing?!"

Amund slumped down onto the sofa and sighed.

“The worst part? I'm still not sure if this is happening. I can't tell if this shit is real."

“Oh it is very real." The serpent replied. “And I must profess, I was not expecting such an… outburst of altruism."

“What's that supposed to mean?" Amund asked.

“It is no great secret that you mortals summon us because you think we have the power to grant wishes. Your desires and emotions are what drove your kind to craft the magic to make this possible. A feat we still cannot fathom to this day."

Amund rolled his eyes.

“I didn't sum-"

The serpent raised a ling finger and cut him off.

“That aside, your reason for desiring power is intriguing. I think it might be the first time anyone has ever petitioned a Lord of Hell for purely selfless reasons." It continued.

Amund felt his heart beat a little faster.

“Does this mean you'll do it?" He asked hopefully.

The serpent smiled.

“It is not within my power to grant what you seek. It is, however, well within the means of my master."

“I'm gonna go ahead and guess it isn't gonna be free?" Amund said with a guarded look.

“How astute. There is, indeed a price, as all power requires. In giving you this power, you will serve Leviathan, just as I serve him. You will be his sword, an instrument of his will, an extension of his being. You will pledge your mind, body and soul to the King over all that are Proud."

Amund sat in silence. He had expected something cliché like having to sell his soul, but this was a little different. This was not some small change you could easily agree to. Assuming he wasn't hallucinating this entire thing, if he agreed he'd become a servant of a demon.

“I… I need to think about it." He said slowly.

“Do you? I thought you wanted power?" The serpent replied, barely masking the derision in its voice.

“Do you sign every contract without reading it first?" Amund shot back.

“Hmm… all right. How about this? You will be given a test to prove you are worthy of this gift. Pass the test, agree to the terms and the power you seek is yours. If you fail the test, or simply decide the conditions are unacceptable, then you will be denied the power, and you will never see me again."

Amund scratched his head. It was hard to see a downside to this proposal. He looked at the snake. It was still smiling at him. Trusting this thing could be a bad move, but if he didn't, then it would vanish, and all this effort would have been for nothing.

“Alright…" He said slowly “I'll accept those terms, but only on the condition that I can pull out of the test any time."

“Of course. But doing so will mean failure."

“Sure. Those are odds I can live with."

The serpent grinned, showing an almost disturbing number of shiny white teeth.

“Excellent choice. Shall we shake on it?" It said extending a hand. Amund reached out, his hand slipping through the rippling blue barrier. The snake gripped his hand and shook firmly, once.

A searing pain shot up Amund's arm. He snatched his hand back and the rippling blue barrier shattered around him, the glowing rune circle slowly fading to black. Amund looked down at his hand. The cause of the pain was a brand in the shape of a snake coiled around a sword.

“What the hell did you do?!" He demanded.

“This is Leviathan's brand. You will carry it until your test is done. It is tied to this rune circle, you can use it to summon me, and I may use it to find you wherever you may be."

“Okaaay… so what exactly is this test I have to do anyway?"

The demon chuckled.

“That is not for me to say. My lord will give you the task personally. When it is done, call to me and I will answer. Either to grant that which you seek, or to remove the brand forever."

“Call to you? How?"

“My name. Sarazios."

“That… is a bit of a mouthful."

“I have many names, but this one suits the purpose you will be given."

“Right… so when will Leviathan uh… get in touch?"

“Soon. Do not fret. The Lord of the Raging Sea always keeps his appointments."

Amund blinked, and Sarazios was gone. All that remained was the blackened runic circle and the brand on his hand.

“Right… I'm going to bed." He announced.

That night, Amund dreamed. He was standing in front of an old school building. It was run down and derelict, long abandoned by anyone sensible. Amund blinked, and he was standing inside the old nurses office. There was a mouldy old bed in the room, and it was occupied. It was a snake, but its scales were completely black and adorned with strange silver patterns. The snake was huddled up on the bed, wrapped in a dirty blanket.

“Upsetting, isn't it?"

Amund turned to face the voice. It was a massive Naga. It's scales were a rich brown, with black and gold diamond shaped patterns running down the length of it's back. It had six glowing red eyes and six arms.

“Who are you?" Amund asked. Their voices sounded strange, like they were coming from a great distance in a spacious and empty hall.

_“I am Leviathan. The one in the bed is Lazarus. My vessel. He is the container for my essence. He is travelling to reunite me with my body. Sadly, even with my gifts, he is almost physically unable to contain me. He is deteriorating more rapidly than I had hoped."

“Why are you telling me this?" _Amund asked.

“Because I need your help. I know why you desire power. I know why you sought me out. This is to be a test of that. Your test. You must come to this place and find Lazarus. There is not much time. We both need your help."

Amund looked at the huge snake, then back at the smaller one. Then something out the window caught his eye. It was a burned lightning tree, in the middle of a courtyard. Amund wasn't sure why it drew his attention, but when he saw it, he knew it was important.

“Help? How? What do you want me to do?" He asked.

“Find us."

Amund practically jumped out of bed. He flailed in his duvet, falling onto the floor with a loud thump. Untangling himself from his bed he looked out the window and saw it was still dark. He looked at his bedside clock and saw that it was midnight. He'd only been asleep for an hour, but somehow he doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep. Hurrying over to his computer, his hands paused over the keyboard as he considered what to search for. It took a couple of tries, but he eventually found an article about an abandoned school building. The school had been abandoned because half of it had burned down a few years ago. A huge oak tree growing in the main courtyard had been struck by lightning. The boiling sap in the tree had exploded, launching burning spears of wood through the school building. Apparently the fire started in the textiles classroom when a burning lump of oak the size of a small child had smashed through the window and set fire to all the material stored in the classroom. Amund brought up a picture and felt a lurch of… something. Excitement? Realisation? The photo showed the blackened remains of the tree, with the caption 'view of the tree from the nurses office'. It looked exactly the same as the dream. Was he supposed to see it? Was it a clue? Apparently these 'tests' had been devised before the Internet was invented. Scanning the article, Amund found the address, but it couldn't be right. He searched the address and the map showed the school's location. It was next door.

***

Amund huffed up the hill. The school, it turned out, had been built on the hill behind his apartment building. The building itself was apparently hidden by a row of trees. Amund paused and looked behind him. He could see the lights of the town below, and even his own apartment. Turning back to his climb he had time to think about everything that had happened. Amund was the first to say he wasn't a religious man, but he had always… not believed, per se, but had perhaps hoped that there was something 'else'. Something to explain all the stuff that couldn't be explained, some truth to the myths and legends. Well it turns out there was, and it was incredibly confusing. Thinking on it more in the morning would have to wait until after this though. There was something about seeing that guy, Leviathan's 'vessel', shivering in a disgusting old bed. That's who he really wanted to help. Amund was sure a giant demon snake could probably take care of itself. That was another thing. The 'conditions' to this deal. On the one hand he would get the power he was after. He'd be able to help people in the way he wanted, but what would it mean to be a servant to a demon? Would it be worth it?

“Yeah… I reckon it would." He muttered.

He arrived at the old school building and took a moment to catch his breath. It was an impressive building, most of it still stood. The fire had only destroyed a relatively small portion of it. It was a grand old manor house, or so the article had said. The windows on the ground floor had all been boarded up and the main doors were heavily chained and padlocked closed. Amund walked around the side of the building, looking for a way in. It took longer to get around to the back of it than he had thought it would. This place was big. He eventually found a window with a loose board around the back of the building. He gave it a hard pull and the virtually rotten plywood came away with a wet thud. The window behind it was shut tight, but Amund was able to persuade it open with a large rock at high velocity. He carefully pushed up what remained of the window and climbed inside.

It was dark and dusty inside the school. The air was surprisingly dry, yet still had that musty old building smell. Amund pulled his headtorch out of his pocket and put it on. The bright light illuminated the room. He was in one of the schools old laboratories. He looked around, his feet disturbing the thick dust as he went. He went over to one of the old glass fronted cabinets. The door was locked, but a hard tug broke the brittle wood easily. Amund dropped the door and peered inside at the old bottles. The labels were faded but he could still make out the names of the chemicals. He was about to continue on when a loud bang echoed through the school. He jumped and instinctively ducked down behind a desk.

After a few moments when his heart had stopped hammering, he crawled over to the door and peered out of the window. He could see down the corridor to either side, and saw the distant light of bright torches. The kind you might find mounted on firearms. Amund swore and ran over to the chemicals cupboard. He grabbed a wooden box and began filling it with particular bottles of chemicals. He picked up one jar and stuffed it into his jacket pocket with a pair of crucible tongs. Hefting the box under one arm he went over to the door and opened it a crack. The lights at the end of the corridor had gotten brighter. Whoever it was were moving forwards slowly. He could hear the sound of doors being opened and rooms being searched.

Placing the box down he reached into his pocket and pulled out the jar and the tongs. He carefully opened the jar and looked inside. It was full of white cylinders, about five centimetres long and two centimetres across. He reached into the jar with the tongs and pulled out two of the cylinders. They began to glow an eerie green colour and produced a white vapour. He threw these out of the door down the corridor towards the lights. They landed on the floor and rolled a few feet.

Amund saw the first spark from one of the cylinders just as one of the lights appeared around the corner. Amund saw the silhouette of a man dressed in what looked like black combat gear, complete with helmet and gas mask. It was also armed. The figure just turned down the corridor when the rods of white phosphorus self ignited. They burst into a bluish-white flame, producing far more smoke than such small rods should have been able to. The corridor quickly filled with the dense, acrid smoke and Amund ran. He heard someone yell behind him.

“Contact!"

Amund raced to the end of the corridor and spotted a staircase. A sign pointed upwards, telling him the nurse's office was on the fourth floor. He began taking the steps three at a time, while the sound off boots thundered up the corridor behind him. He reached into his box and grabbed a bottle, throwing it onto the stairs. It shattered and spilled its contents over the steps. He continued up the stairs, listening to the sounds of people slipping on liquid paraffin. He ran down the corridor on the second floor to the stairs at the opposite end, hoping to put distance between himself and the armed men.

He arrived at the opposite stairs and paused, listening intently, heart pounding in his chest. He could hear orders being barked, but they were far enough away for him to be unable to make out what was being said. Peering over the banister he saw lights approaching this stairwell. He reached into his box and grabbed a jar and a bottle. He tipped the powdered contents of the jar onto the floor and opened the bottle. Acrid vapour escaped the bottle, smelling strongly of vinegar.

Amund's eyes watered as he poured the liquid over the powder. The powder began to bubble and fizz, producing a green gas that smelt of swimming pools. Amund fled the gas and made it up to the third floor. Concentrated hydrochloric acid and potassium permanganate when mixed produced, amongst other things, chlorine gas. Amund hoped their gasmasks weren't designed to filter it out. Though judging from the cries of surprise and the horrible coughing sounds coming from below, they didn't.

Amund ducked into a classroom and paused to catch his breath. He felt like his heart would explode. He set down his box and turned off his headtorch. He listened intently to the sound of chaos coming from the floors below. They'd be a good deal more careful now, he hoped. Maybe it was enough to slow them down. Then someone grabbed him from behind.

Amund didn't know how this person had been able to sneak up on him, but he didn't stop to think about. He grabbed a bottle from his box as he was pulled backwards. He turned and smashed the bottle over the head of his assailant. The brittle glass shattered on a helmet, a strong smell of petroleum filling the air.

“Naphtha!" Amund thought, kicking the man away from him. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the jar of phosphorus, but his assailant knocked it out of his hand and kneed him in the stomach. Amund collapsed to the floor, somewhat winded. Through watering eyes he saw faintly glowing sticks of phosphorus rolling across the floor.

As he fell he grabbed one of the sticks. It immediately began to burn his fingers. He felt the man grab him and he was hauled to his feet. As he was, Amund grabbed the man by the combat vest and lodged the rod of phosphorus behind it. The phosphorus ignited almost immediately, melting under the heat of it's own reaction, sticking to the man's gear and clothing. The man yelled in pain, and then the naphtha ignited.

The soldier ran from the classroom, screaming and on fire. Amund got to his feet just in time for the other rods of phosphorus to ignite. They burst into flame, filling the classroom with dense smoke. The fire began to spread quickly, the naphtha on the floor catching light. Amund ran from the room, choking on the smoke. He burst into the corridor just as the burning soldier crashed into a group of his companions coming up the stairs.

Amund ran the other way, reaching the stairs and sprinting up them. He arrived in a shorter corridor, with a sign pointing down it towards a door with a red and white cross on it. This part of the school looked like it could only be accessed from the stairs he had just come up. Amund paused for a minute, trying to calm his breathing. He strained his ears listening for sounds of pursuit. He could hear shouting and screams from a few floors down. Whoever these people were, they hadn't come prepared for such severe chemical warfare.

He moved slowly down the corridor, trying to be as quiet as possible. One of the doors in the corridor had 'Headmaster' written across it. Amund slowly opened it and stepped inside. The wood panelled office was large; the main feature was a huge mahogany desk that occupied the center of the room. There were bookshelves lining the walls and a large leather swivel chair sat behind the desk. Amund knew his goal was only a few metres down the corridor but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He went over to the desk and saw that all the draws and cupboards were gone, except for one. It had a tiny keyhole set into it. The wood around the keyhole was scratched and marked, like someone had tried to get in without the key. Amund looked over the desk. The only thing left was an old pencil holder with an assortment of pens and pencils inside. Amund gave it a suspicious look, before he picked it up and upended it. Sure enough, along with all the pencils, a small tarnished key fell onto the desk. It fitted easily in the keyhole, and the lock clicked open. Amund opened the draw and peered inside. The only thing in the draw was an old revolver. Why a headmaster needed a revolver Amund couldn't fathom. He picked it up and looked it over. It took him a while to figure out how to pen the chamber, but he managed it. Six rounds were loaded. Amund pulled one out to check they were actually bullets and not blanks. The silver coloured round was dimly visible in the gloom. This certainly wasn't a starter pistol.

Amund stepped back into the corridor. The unmistakeable smell of burning hit his nostrils. A thin blanket of smoke was creeping along the floor towards him from the stairs. He'd wasted too much time exploring.

Amund sprinted down the corridor to the nurse's office and pulled the door open.

“Hi!" Said Lazarus.

Amund blinked. This was the black snake from his dream. But he looked fine!

“What… but… you… I saw…" Amund stammered.

“It was a test. Master had to be sure." Lazarus said with a shrug.

“What do you mean? I saw you! You looked like shit!"

“Well thanks. So nice of you to say." Lazarus said with a wry grin.

Amund stood there, speechless. Then the cogs thunked into place and a little light bulb came on.

“You… you… set me up! You fuckers!" Amund cried, and lunged for Lazarus. Lazarus laughed and sidestepped Amund with impossible speed.

“You've been doing well so far. Master is impressed. From what I gather, that's quite hard to do." He said with a nod.

“I was supposed to get you!" Amund fumed.

“That won't be necessary. As you can see I am fine. You should worry about yourself." Lazarus chuckled, walking over to the window. “The fire hasn't reached the stairs yet. I'm sure you still have time to get out that way." He continued, before jumping out the window.

Amund ran over to the window and looked out, but Lazarus had vanished. He cursed and swore, but didn't linger. He turned and ran out of the office and back to the stairs, leaping down them and skidding on the floor below. A good part of this floor was on fire now. Flames billowed out of the doors to classrooms, spreading quickly through the rest of the school.

He began to descend the stairs to the second floor, but in the darkness and smoke failed to see the soldier. They collided on the stairs; Amund felt strong hands grab his jacket and pull. He sailed through the air and landed at the bottom of the stairs with a crash. He felt the air get driven from his body with the impact, and a sharp, hot pain shoot through his left leg. It was definitely broken. The flames illuminated the soldier as it descended the stairs.

Amund crawled backwards trying to get away, but his broken leg wasn't co-operating. The soldier raised its gun and Amund threw himself to the side as the soldier fired. There was a flash, a bang, and a piercing, white-hot pain lanced through his shoulder. But the adrenaline pumping around his body forced him to keep moving. He crawled through the door to a classroom and tried to make his way through the old wooden desks.

He heard boots behind him and a hand grabbed his shoulder, he yelled out in pain as the soldier forced him over onto his back. Amund instinctively slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for the jar of phosphorus that wasn't there. But his fingers met something else. As the soldier grabbed his jacket to pull him up, Amund pulled the revolver from his pocket and emptied all six shots into his attackers abdomen.

There was silence. The soldier sagged to its knees, falling with a thud to the ground. Amund let the pistol slip from his bloody hands. He crawled slowly away from the body towards the window and pulled himself up to it. Everything hurt. He felt sticky from the soldier's blood, and something warm and wet was running down his shoulder and over his chest. He really didn't want to think what it might be.

After a few tries with fumbling fingers, he managed to get the window open, but as he was pulling himself up onto the sill, all the strength drained from his body. He slid down the wall and came to a rest under the window. He couldn't feel his right arm anymore, and his leg was on fire. Everything was going blurry. Amund wasn't sure if that was from the heat and smoke of the fire or the blood loss or both.

“Tied to the rune circle…"

Amund blinked. Where had that thought come from? He looked down at his right arm and tried to move it. It refused to budge. Using his other hand, he picked up his right and looked at the palm. The brand on his hand was covered in blood and glowing faintly. He could summon Sarazios with her name… what if…

A pair of boots filling his field of vision interrupted his pained thoughts. He looked up and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Of course. There was more than one soldier. Amund closed his eyes and pictured the rune circle. He could see it clear as day in his mind's eye. He heard the soldier prime his weapon. Amund summoned the strength to clench his fist, and shouted his own name.

He felt his body lurch forwards, and land on something hard. He lay there for a few minutes, before he opened his eyes. HE was staring at a somewhat familiar ceiling. He rolled onto his side and saw Sarazios sitting on his sofa. He was lying in the rune circle on the floor of his living room in his apartment.

“Oh... it worked…" He groaned, before passing out.

***

Everything hurt. The leg and shoulder hurt the most though, but only by a little bit. Amund didn't want to open his eyes. He was worried it wouldn't work and he was actually dead. If he was dead then all the pain really wasn't fair. Given this logic, he decided that perhaps opening his eyes couldn't be a bad thing. So he did.

He was still lying in his living room. He painfully propped himself up on one elbow, struggling to a sitting position, broken leg stretched out in front of him. His eyes still stung from smoke and phosphorus vapour and it felt like someone had punched him _in _the lungs. He looked around. The little reading light was the only thing illuminating the small living room. That was why he missed Lazarus and Sarazios first. They were kneeling in front of him (well, Lazarus was. Sarazios was doing something as close to kneeling as you could get with a tail instead of legs).

Amund tried to speak but all he could manage was a croak. Lazarus and Sarazios looked at each other, joined hands, and closed their eyes. The air in front of them shimmered, and a figure began to appear. It was a snake of huge proportions, with six arms and six glowing red eyes. It was the one from his dream. With a sound like tearing metal, Leviathan materialised in his living room. Amund stared. He hadn't really noticed in his dream, but in person… Leviathan was beautiful and terrifying. His massive coils moved with unnatural grace and his gaze was enthralling.

“Ah… so good to meet you in the flesh." He said. Amund heard is voice with his ears, but also inside his head. It reverberated with power and confidence, but it was gentle and graceful, like water. Amund tried to respond, but he could only wheeze and cough.

“Please, do not strain yourself. You are gravely injured."

“No thanks to you!" Amund coughed.

“Yes. I had to make sure you were worthy to wield the power you sought. I wanted to know if your reasons were genuine. I was pleased to discover that they were." Leviathan replied calmly, raising a hand.

“You… manipulated… used against me!" Amund gasped, his lungs felt like they were burning.

“Of course. How else would I see the real you? I wanted to know if you had what was required."

Amund fell silent. It made sense. He didn't like it but it made sense.

“Do not worry. You have proven yourself. I will grant you the power you seek."

Amund felt his heart leap.

“But in return you will become mine. I will own you, mind, body and soul. Your service to me will take precedent over anything and everything else. You will become my sword. An instrument to strike at any target I give you." Leviathan's eyes gleamed in the warm light from the lamp. He slowly circled the rune circle, trailing a finger along the rippling blue shield.

“This is my price. The price of power is always stee-"

“Yes. I… I agree." Amund coughed.

Leviathan paused, then smiled. Amund felt a shiver run through his entire body.

“This… this was my goal f-from… the beginning…" He gasped, clenching his working fist.

“You don't need to justify it to me. Your agreement is all I need." Leviathan reassured him.

Leviathan raised all six hands, and a strange crystal vial appeared in the air with a small flash. It was filled with a black substance that moved in strange ways.

“This is Black Ichor. It is my essence, distilled into a liquid form. This contains the power you seek. But if I were to give it to you now, in your current state it would kill you, and as I am not here physically, I cannot oversee its administration personally." He explained. Taking the vial from the air he slithered over to Sarazios, and tilted its head up. Its eyelids didn't even flicker as it was moved like a doll. He placed the crystal vial to its lips and poured it into its mouth. Sarazios began swallowing the fluid without spilling a single drop. There was a surprising quantity of the fluid in the vial, but it was eventually emptied. Leviathan dropped the vial, which evaporated before it hit the floor.

“Sarazios will administer the Ichor… slowly. She is… an expert caregiver. Once the first drop has passed your lips, there will be no going back. You will be bound eternally to me."

Amund nodded and swallowed (painfully).

Leviathan turned back to Amund and looked at the shimmering magic that surrounded him.

“Interesting. Human magic is… impressively imaginative. This spell is the only thing keeping you alive right now. It is designed to preserve anything that enters it in the same state that it was when it was summoned. So if it was shattered…"

Leviathan tapped the magical shield, and it shattered like ice. Amund cried out as pain flooded his body, blood pouring from his shoulder. Everything started to go black.

He felt arms wrap around him and a serpentine mouth lock around his. Something wet and slippery filled his mouth. Amund swallowed on reflex, the liquid burning as it slid down his throat. The pressure on his mouth eased, and he swallowed again. This second mouthful was different. It tasted sweet. It drained away the pain and replaced it with warmth. Opening his eyes, Amund saw Sarazios cradling him in her arms. Her mouth was slightly open, black strings of Ichor hung from her lips and tongue. Her blue eyes met his and she smiled.

“You live. I am glad." She said, slowly releasing him.

Amund sat up slowly. All the pain had gone. His leg felt fine, as did his shoulder. He got up and carefully put weight on his leg. No pain. He ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He looked like hell. He was covered in soot and blood and his clothes were torn and burnt. He pulled off his jacket and his t-shirt, throwing them on the floor. He was caked in blood, but there was no sign of a bullet hole. He looked at his hands; the phosphorus burns were gone as well, though the brand remained. Then his brain finally processed what Sarazios had been doing. He raised a slightly trembling hand to his lips. He pulled his fingers away. Black ooze dripped from them into the sink.

“No going back…" He whispered, staring into the mirror. He stood there, just staring for almost ten minutes, before he realised he was still covered in blood.

The hot water cascaded over Amund's body as he stood there soaking in the warmth. He felt different. It was strange. Small surges of a strange feeling he couldn't describe pulsed through his body every few minutes. Each surge felt strangely good. As he turned off the shower, a particularly powerful surge hit him. He dropped to his knees in the shower. He felt like he was going to vomit. His body heaved, and he opened his mouth. A strange red fog poured from his mouth and flowed down the drain. Amund slowly got to his feet and stepped out of the bath. What was that? It hadn't hurt, but is had felt strange. He shook his head and reached for a towel. Which wasn't there. He sighed and went into his bedroom.

His bedroom (like everything else in his small apartment) was small. It was also mostly full of bed. There was a small path between the door and the bed that ran along one wall, but aside from that, the space was all king-size bed. On the bed was Sarazios. She had piled her coils onto the bed and looked up when Amund entered.

“Gah! S-Sarazios!" He exclaimed, trying to cover himself up. Sarazios smiled and half slithered off the bed so that she was 'standing' in front of him.

“You're rather attractive for a human." She said, placing a finger on his chin and tilting his head up. “But you'll look even better with a fine coat of scales." Amund glanced around nervously.

“Uhm… thanks? I mean… you're pretty attractive for a snake… demon… girl?"

Sarazios laughed her beautiful laugh and smiled down at him.

“We are the same now. Or… we will be. The Ichor I gave you was to save your life. I will administer the rest… slowly…"

She slipped her lower arms around his waist and pulled him against her scales. Amund gasped. Her body was soft and warm. He felt all desire to escape her grasp leave his body as he relaxed against her.

“As for my gender… well, I can be whatever I choose to be at any given time. I have spent quite a long time as a female and I rather like it… but for tonight, I think I'll be male." She continued, using her other pair of hands to stroke his neck and hair.

“But I'm… I'm not…" Amund began to protest, but Sarazios cut him off.

“It doesn't matter. You won't care after a while." She murmured, kissing him gently on the forehead. Amund realised that they were slowly swaying from side to side. It felt good and relaxing. His eyelids drooped and he rested his head against Sarazios' smooth, flat chest. She began to hum softly. A tune Amund had never heard, but one that floated through his mind like a warm breeze. They swayed from side to side in a serpentine dance that made it hard for Amund to think. So he decided not to, allowing his mind to go blank. He focused on the feeling of her smooth scales pressing against his naked body. The warmth she radiated seemed to permeate through his being. Her gentle caresses made him fall deeper into her spell.

He didn't resist when Sarazios slowly guided them over to the bed. She lay him down onto her coils, leaning over and kissing him, more of the Black Ichor flooding his mouth. He shivered with delight as the goo slid down into his stomach, sending waves of warmth through his body. He let out a sigh when she broke the kiss.

“Someone is enjoying themselves." She said with a chuckle. Amund looked down at himself. His cock was hard, the tip shiny with precum that had just started to ooze down the shaft. He blushed and opened his mouth, but Sarazios placed a finger against his lips, silencing him.

“I'm glad you like it. We've only just begun."

As she spoke, her voice became deeper and more masculine, but still gentle and beautiful. Amund felt something wet and hot pressing against his thigh. He looked down and saw Sarazios' long, thick, cock. It had emerged from a slit near her waist, and it was shiny with whatever fluid a demon snake used for sex.

“I told you I could be male or female." Sarazios said, his smile widening. “And like I said… we've only just begun."

“Y…you have a dick…" Amund said, somewhat taken aback.

“I do. I told you I could alter my gender as I pleased." Sarazios said, trailing a finger down Amund's chest.

“But I'm not gay!" Amund protested. Sarazios chuckled and leaned forwards until his snout was practically touching Amund's lips.

“Neither am I." He said, tongue flicking over Amund's nose. His hands blurred, grabbing Amund's wrists, pushing him back and pinning him down onto the bed. Amund squirmed under the snake, unable to move. Sarazios lowered his head, mouth opening slightly. He slowly and deliberately dragged his tongue across Amund's neck and face, leaving a long, generous trail of saliva. Amund shuddered. His arousal, surprisingly enough, hadn't lessened. If anything it had grown. He felt surprised that he was actually beginning to enjoy being dominated in such a fashion.

His cheeks coloured at the realisation, his face growing hot. This naturally didn't escape Sarazios, who gave Amund a wicked grin.

“Don't worry." He said “I'll ease you into it."

Amund gasped as Sarazios pressed his (much larger) cock against Amund's own member. It felt hot, wet and slippery. Sarazios began to grind his cock into Amund's with a wet squishing sound. Amund squirmed under Sarazios, but all that did was press his crotch harder against Sarazios. Amund could feel warmth spreading over his balls, crotch and inner thighs. The wet sounds they were making became louder and more obscene. The heat and the wetness made the pleasure unlike anything Amund had ever experienced. He let out an involuntary moan, and then blushed profusely. Sarazios huffed, his chin beginning to shine with saliva. He was clearly enjoying himself as well.

With a wet slurp, Sarazios pulled back. Thick ropes of clear pre-cum and other sexual fluids stretched between their crotches. Amund could feel the fluids oozing over and between his buttocks. Sarazios shifted himself up, so his cock was level with Amund's face. Sarazios placed a free hand on the back of Amund's head, and held the base of his shaft with the other. He pressed the tapered head of his cock against Amund's lips. Amund tried to turn his head but Sarazios held him still. Arms and head immobilised by the four-armed snake, Amund found he had little choice in what he did next. And that just made him hotter. Sarazios smeared his thick pre-cum over Amund's lips, making them glisten.

“Taste it." Sarazios hissed. It wasn't a request, and Amund wasn't sure he could refuse even if he wanted to… which he was realising he didn't want to do. He opened his mouth and tentatively licked the tip of Sarazios' cock. The snake's pre-cum really was thick. It coated the inside of his mouth and tasted faintly of salt and… honey? Slightly salty honey? He didn't have much more time to figure out what it tasted like as Sarazios pressed his head against his crotch with a squelch. Thick slime trickled down Amund's face as he was pressed into the soft scales, the fleshy slit and cock inches from his nose.

The scent of Sarazios' sex made Amund dizzy. He drew in a deep breath to try and clear his head, but all he achieved was a nose full of the scent and a mouthful of the fluids. He felt overcome with the urge to swallow the slippery mouthful. It made his mouth tingle in a pleasant way, and it felt good to swish his tongue through it. He gulped, swallowing the goo. His mouth felt incredibly soft and wet, the liquid tingling all the way down into his stomach. Sarazios pushed back, and Amund felt the head of the cock slip past his lips. It was big, but not uncomfortable. He licked the tip and suckled gently, feeling warm pre-cum trickle into his mouth. It was almost like it was soaking into his mouth, making his muscles relax and soften. Sarazios slid more of his cock through Amund's lips, sinking his length slowly into the human's mouth. It felt good to have the fleshy dick in his mouth, though Amund wasn't sure why. He suckled on it as Sarazios slowly began to glide his length in and out of Amund's mouth.

Sarazios sighed, gently caressing Amund's face, sliding his fingers through the human's hair. He let go of Amund's wrists, gripping his shoulders instead. Amund had long stopped resisting, submitting to the cock that was fucking his mouth. Sarazios began to push a little further, sliding more of his cock into Amund's mouth, the tip slipping down his oesophagus. Amund was sure he should have gagged but the thick cock slid down his throat without any kind of resistance. Sarazios moaned softly as the wet folds of Amund's throat closed around his shaft. Amund tried to swallow on instinct, but only succeeded in slurping down more of Sarazios' shaft. His nose and chin finally bumped against Sarazios' slit, the soft flesh pressing into his face, more slime running down his chin and neck.

Sarazios held him still, his cock filling Amund's mouth and throat. Amund huffed and panted around the member, pulling back slightly to breath through his nose. Two hands stroked his head and face, and another two massaged his neck and throat. Amund could feel the cock bulging and throbbing when Sarazios squeezed his neck.

“Mmm… that is a gooood look for you. Lips stretched, eyes glazed… my juices running down your chin…" Sarazios hissed, stroking himself with Amund's throat. Amund moaned around the cock, the vibrations making Sarazios gasp.

“Oh yesss… a little more. Just… a little more."

Sarazios began to pull his cock slowly out of Amund's mouth, panting as he did. Then, when his cock had left Amund's throat, Amund felt the grip around his head tighten and Sarazios cried out, cock pulsing hard. Thick, gloopy cum filled Amund's mouth, spilling out the corners of is mouth before he had time to swallow. He gulped loudly, the slimy goo pouring into his stomach. It ran down his neck and over his chest and back. Sarazios shuddered, hips bucking. More cum spilled into Amund's mouth as Sarazios pulled out, shooting a thick rope of cum over Amund's face.

They sat there, panting for a few minutes as thick mix of saliva and cum dripped off Amund's face and Sarazios' cock. The smell of cum and sex filled the air, making it hard for Amund to process what just happened. He was full of and covered in cum, and his cock was throbbing harder than ever. Sarazios pulled Amund into his arms and kissed him on the lips. His long prehensile tongue invaded Amund's mouth, tasting his own seed. Then Amund's mouth was flooded again, but this time it was the Black Ichor. It felt and tasted different, spreading warmth throughout his body.

Unbeknownst to Amund, his skin had started to change, changing from human skin tones to a whitish grey, the faint outline of scales becoming visible on the skin. It was most noticeable around his feet. Patches of black scales had already formed, and his nails were beginning to lengthen and thicken, becoming hard claws.

“See? That felt pretty good, didn't it?" Sarazios said with a sweet smile. Amund found himself nodding.

“Good! But we are _far _from done." The snake continued. “Get on your hands and knees. Amund turned over, moving to prop himself up. Before he could balance, Sarazios' tail wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. Amund yelped as he dropped forwards, face hitting the bed with a thud. He turned his head as more of the tail wrapped around his neck, holding his head and chest to the bed, leaving his ass in the air. Sarazios carefully spread Amund's legs wider, displaying his anus and balls. Amund felt extremely exposed and vulnerable. His cock throbbed in approval. He felt hot breath on his ass and balls, and hands on his buttocks, spreading them apart.

He squirmed when Sarazios' long, thick tongue pressed against his balls, licking up towards his ass. Amund panted and gasped as hot, wet, pleasure pressed against his sphincter. Sarazios leaned forwards, opening his mouth wider, slathering Amund's ass and balls with his thick saliva. He reached between Amund's legs and gripped his slippery cock around the base. Squeezing, he pulled his hand down to the tip in a milking motion, before letting go and repeating the motion. Amund arched his back, pushing his ass against Sarazios' tongue as the snake milked his dick. Sarazios was only too pleased to continue his oral ministrations, opening his mouth wider and poking the tip of his tongue into Amund's ass.

Amund tensed at the unexpected penetration, but that quickly melted away as more of the tongue slid into his ass. It didn't hurt at all like he thought it would. The tongue was smooth and warm and slippery, becoming thicker surprisingly quickly. It slowly stretched him out, the pressure on his sphincter and inside his rectum felt weirdly good. Certainly in a way Amund had not been expecting. Sarazios began to slide his tongue in and out of Amund's ass, matching the rhythm to his hand. Amund writhed against the coils holding him, but they tightened, making him gasp. He stopped struggling and they loosened. He heard Sarazios chuckle, his tongue sliding out of his ass with a wet pop, trailing saliva.

“It feels good, does it not? Having my tongue deep inside you." He hissed.

Amund moaned into the bed.

“Y-yes… mmm… mmore…" He said breathlessly.

“Certainly." Sarazios replied, rising up, and placing the head of his cock against Amund's asshole.

Amund felt the coils around him pulling him back, pushing his ass against Sarazios' cock. He let out a small cry as the head of the serpentine member slipped inside. It was a lot thicker than the tongue, a burning mix of pleasure and pain shooting through his abdomen. The pain rapidly began to fade as Sarazios' strange pre-cum began to coat the inside and outside of Amund's ass. As the potent relaxant soaked into his skin, Amund felt like he was melting into Sarazios' coils. The thick cock slid deeper into his rectum, filling him up and stretching him out. There was a wet squelch as Sarazios fully hilted himself inside Amund. Amund's head suddenly went white. His body spasmed, cock pulsing as he came. Cum oozing forcefully out of his cock, thick and gloopy like Sarazios'; not like human semen. It poured out in thick bursts, splattering onto the bed and coating Sarazios' fingers. Amund panted, drooling over the coils around his neck.

“Aww… to much for you? That is a shame." Sarazios hissed, pulling back, his cock sliding slowly out of Amund. Thick clear fluid dripped from his shaft as he withdrew it, oozing over Amund's backside. Sarazios stopped when just the head was still buried inside Amund's ass, before pushing back, sliding it in slowly. He hilted again, making Amund rock forwards and grunt quietly. Instead of pulling back this time, Sarazios began to rotate his hips, swirling his cock around inside Amund. Amund could feel the thick dick in his abdomen. He felt so full. Warm pulses spread through his waist every time more of Sarazios' pre-cum flooded him. The flesh inside him pressed and rubbed against his insides. Amund was breathing heavily, thick drops of cum oozing from his still hard cock.

He felt himself being lifted off the bed by the coils around his body. Sarazios pulled him into his (for want of a better word) lap, using one pair of hands to hold his legs open. In this reverse cowgirl position, It felt like Sarazios' cock had gone in deeper. Amund moaned, leaning back against Sarazios' chest. Sarazios used his third hand to gently stroke Amund's cock, and his fourth to hold him by the chin, tilting his head up and kissing him on the lips. As the Black Ichor flooded Amund's mouth, Sarazios began to undulate his body, causing his cock to slide in and out of Amund with a steady, powerful rhythm. Each thrust in bounced Amund up a little, and each pull out caused him to slide down a little.

Sarazios' hips slapped wetly against Amund's butt, thick strands of sexual juices running down over his waist and down his coils. Amund's mouth hung slack, his cheeks flushed and red. Sarazios bit his neck, sliding deep inside him. Amund tried to cry out, but the tail coiled around his neck tightened, and all he could produce was a strangled gurgle. His mind had gone blank. No coherent thoughts passed through his head. He just desperately wanted to be fucked again and again. Sarazios was only too happy to oblige, his cock plunging deep. Amund could feel his ass flexing and tensing around the thick member. Waves of pleasure rocked through him, like an orgasm but no intense burst of pleasure or cum. It was constant, a dull, throbbing pleasure that made him whimper and drool.

Sarazios fucked him like this for what felt like hours. The bed was soaked with their sticky, slippery juices, their bodies glistened with sweat and cum. Sarazios' coils undulating and writhing around them both as he fucked Amund. His cock gripped by Amund's hot, tight ass. He hissed and groaned, saliva dripping off his chin and onto the human below him. He had returned Amund to his original position, on his back, pinned to the bed by claw and coil. Amund's body rocked with the powerful thrusts, crying out, whining and moaning with abandon. The scent of their mating filled the air, accompanied by copious wet slapping sounds. Amund looked up through hazy vision at Sarazios. Sarazios looked down at Amund. He smiled and lowered his head, filling Amund's mouth with the last of the Black Ichor. Amund swallowed and spluttered, the surge of warmth and pleasure was too much for his ravaged body.

Sarazios' eyes widened as gooey heat spread across his stomach. Breaking the kiss, he looked down and saw Amund cumming again, back arching as he was overwhelmed by pleasure. Despite his much higher endurance, Sarazios found himself unable to hold on as well. He pushed his cock as deep as it would go and released. He let out something more akin to a roar than a moan, flooding Amund's insides with his hot, sticky cum. Amund felt the cock inside him pulse, the demon cum filled him quickly, oozing out of his stuffed backside and covering the bed. Each pulse of Sarazios' cock filled Amund with more gloopy cum. The two spasmed and writhed together until it was over. They collapsed in a scaly, sticky, panting, cum covered heap on the ruined bed.

There was no sound for a good long while, save for the breathing of the two lovers. Sarazios eventually rolled off Amund, his cock slipping free with an obscene pop. Amund shuddered, feeling strangely empty. He reached down between his legs and felt his well-used anus. It was soft and hot and supple. The snake cum oozing out of it coated his fingers. He sighed softly as he slid his fingers inside, swirling them around. His body felt unusually hot, though he attributed that to the intense fucking he'd just received. He pulled his fingers out and looked at them, dripping cum over his body.

He frowned. Last he checked his fingers weren't long and covered in black scales. Neither was his forearm. But these ones were. Has he watched, the black scales spread down his arm. He could feel his muscles tingling as well. They twisted and writhed under his skin like a shoal of eels. He could hear his bones creaking and lengthening. He realised he was growing slightly bigger as his body shifted and transformed. He gasped and arched his back, the scales spreading up over his legs.

His feet had already changed. Instead of five little human toes, he now had four, large, dextrous, reptilian toes, each tipped with a strong claw. The scales spread over his arms and across his chest. Amund gasped as they travelled up his neck and over his face. It felt far too good. Surely this kind of transformation should hurt? He managed to turn his head to look at Sarazios, who was lying on his side, watching the transformation with a gleeful smile.

Amund felt his new tail begin to grow from the base of his spine. It stretched out behind him, growing thicker and longer with every second. His skull was creaking and groaning as it changed shape, elongating and becoming snakelike. He rolled onto his front, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. The scales had covered his body now, but his muscles and bones were still growing and changing. He gripped the bed-sheets, as his cock grew hard again, his claws ripping through the mattress. A blue iridescence spread across his scales, like oil on water. The red mist he had seen in the shower came pouring out of his mouth, dissipating as soon as it hit the bed.

A spark of understanding entered his mind. It was his humanity. It was a physical, quantifiable thing. And it was leaving his body. His eyes turned completely black, glowing blue circles appearing where his irises had been. He let out a loud hiss, his new, long, thick tongue flicking over sharp fangs.

With a final crack, he slumped down onto the bed. He lay there for a few minutes trying to get his breath back. He eventually rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Then he sat up. All eight foot of him. He looked down at himself. His black scales shimmered an eerie blue in the soft light of the room. Powerful lean muscles moved under his skin like steel cables. He got to his feet and turned his head, marvelling at how lithe and flexible his body was. He looked behind him and saw his long tail, moving as easily as he would move any of his limbs.

He lifted a leg and examined his foot, wiggling his toes. Oddly enough he felt excited and pleased at the change. Throughout the entire process he hadn't felt fear or anxiety. It had felt completely natural. His body felt… good!

Then something occurred to him. He reached between his legs and felt his (now much larger) balls. Accompanying them was a thick sheath that he assumed his cock folded out of. The skin on his sheath and balls was smooth and soft, almost like it was scaleless. He turned to face Sarazios, whose smile widened.

“I told you you would look better covered in scales." She hissed.