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He arrives in town just after sundown. It’s as quaint as he imagined, dim lighting shining through the windows of the tiny houses. Smoke drifts out of the brick chimneys. However, the streets are eerily empty. As he walks down the cobblestone path, he passes only shut windows doors and closed curtains. When several minutes pass without spotting a single person, a chill runs down Bladee’s spine, but he continues on. Eventually he reaches the tavern, which by the grace of the Gods seems to be open and staffed. Finally, he can sit down and have a drink or five. Beelining to the entrance, he’s met with two women. One beautiful older woman, the innkeeper, and a bouncy young bartender. As soon as he enters, their heads turn to him.
“Hello, ladies.” He waves and smiles, trying to be as warm and friendly as possible. He imagines he’s probably a bit of an intimidating stranger. And they do look uneasy at the sight of an unknown rugged man with a sword on his belt.
“Um, hello, sir.” The innkeeper greets him hesitantly.
“Good evening. Maybe you’ve heard of me. Some call me Bladee of the North,-“ “I have heard of you!” The bartender gasps, her blonde curls bouncing as she perks up. Bladee breathes a sigh of relief at this familiarity. “Let me get you a drink. Do you like cider?”
“Of course,” he smiles, making the girl’s heart flutter. She grabs a tankard, filling it to the brim with amber fluid. She sets it in front of him. A bit of foam spills over the side.
“Thank you, miss.”
“You’re really him?” The bartender giggles flirtatiously.
“In the flesh.” He takes a gulp of cider. The innkeeper makes her way over, dark braided hair following behind her. She leans in to whisper to her blonde colleague.
“I’ve heard sooo many stories about you! Like how you took down that kraken terrorizing that port town!! Or how you killed that minotaur that was going around raping everyone!”
Bladee chuckles. “I- uh…“
“After you finish flirting, Beatrice, let’s ask Bladee about more pressing matters.” The innkeeper grumbles, kicking her colleague.
The bartender yelps and turns to her coworker. Lowering her voice, she asks “Ask him what?”
Exasperated, the innkeeper scoffs and stomps her heeled boot. “We’ve been looking for someone like this for a while.”
“Oh oh, yes. Sorry.” She hangs her head.
“What’s this I hear about, ladies?”
The innkeeper leans closer to bladee. “Our village is in very grave danger.”
“Yes, I’ve heard rumblings. What is the problem exactly?”
She sighs. “Townsfolk keep getting stolen away and killed by some creature from the catacombs. Their corpse is always thrown into the town square within a week’s time. Mutilated.” He shakes his head, hand on the hilt of his sword. “These things are vicious beasts.”
At this point, Bladee has dealt with countless similar cases.
“I’m going to check it out tomorrow.” Bladee declares.
“Really? You haven’t even heard the full story.”
“Yes, but… It always tends to go the same way with these sort of things.”
“What?” The young bartender scoffs.
“He was purple guard, Lilith. He doesn’t need the full story!” The innkeeper cocks her eyebrow. “Really now?” She turns to Bladee.
“Uhm, yes. Correct.” He sips his cider.
“See?! He was trained as a knight since he was four! At the oldest.” Beatrice giggles.
“Yes, I fucking know what the purple guard is. Question is, why are you not with them anymore?”
“Well,” Bladee chuckles shamefully. “It was a bit of a dishonorable discharge. Whenever I had the chance, I would be three sheets to the wind. I was a raging drunk. Somehow, I managed to reach high rank, so I had access to such privileges.
“You were a drunken knight?” The older woman says in disbelief. Bladee nods.
“As soon as I got a taste of high-end spirits I couldn’t stop. They’d often have me patrolling the castle. I would steal bottles from shelves or the kitchen and hide them in my sleeping quarters. Jonatan and I were really close actually. But after a while he had enough of my bullshit.” The innkeeper has an incredulous look on her face, not sure whether to believe him or not.
“Usually if Jonatan had to let a knight go, he would just have him killed instead. ‘Cause he didn’t want an opposing force to ever be able to recruit one of his own men.” Bladee gulps down the last bit of his drink, slamming the tankard on the table with a sigh. “But he really liked me, so he let me roam free. Haven’t kept steady work since, so now I just do this..”
Lilith sighs.
“Well, trained knight or not, we need to find you some backup.”
“Ma’am, I always perform alone. If you force me to let a couple of strangers tag along, I’ll just be off my usual rhythm. I’ll get us all killed.”
Lilith looks fed up.
“Fine. You really think that you can do this alone?”
He just nods.
“If you say so. Stay at the inn tonight.” She goes to fetch a small leather notebook from the shelf. It seems to be packed with notes and loose sketches sticking out the side. “This is all the information gathered from the townspeople. I’ll show you before you head to sleep.”
“That sounds good to me, miss. But, umm, could I have one more cider?”
Lilith rolls her eyes as Beatrice rushes to refill Bladee’s tankard, and the two review the information until their eyelids grow heavy.
✥✥✥
Bladee is shaken awake by Lilith in the middle of the night, her eyes panicked and teary.
“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!!”
Bladee shoots up and pushes Lilith off of him, startled.
“Wh-what!?”
She stumbles to her feet as she sobs.
“BEATRICE IS GONE! THEY TOOK HER!
YOU HAVE TO GO TONIGHT.”
He arrives on Lilith’s grey mare, who seems to slow in pace as she approaches the entrance. An iron gate stands menacingly The trees that grow around the stone brick entrance are dead and twisted, as if the presence of the catacombs warps the world around it. He ties the horse to a post and opens the gate’s hatch. The door lets out a dreadful metallic screech as he opens, causing the mare to start. He swallows, feeling sweat beading on his forehead already.
Lighting his torch, he enters the catacombs. The smell of rot and wet stone hits his nose. The air is stale and heavy with death. Miles of tunnels are sculpted into high arches, unnaturally painted white. Jagged stonework columns and walls surround him, shrouded by darkness. Bladee is taken aback by how weak his body feels. The sword he carries best now weighs him down. His footsteps slow. He has long lost count of the number of dungeons he has conquered, many of them treacherous and unforgiving. But none have caused his gut to turn like the one that lies before him.
He recalls the advice of the innkeeper. She had informed him of the few townspeople who had traversed the catacombs and lived to tell the tale.
“The wicked place will try to confuse you with its twisting paths. Carry on as straight as the catacombs allow.” Her stern but kind face is a warm memory. He grips his sword a little harder, trying to force some strength into his own veins. He wants to believe it.
He trudges ahead, traveling through the cave as straightforwardly as possible. After what feels like miles, he feels his mind growing weaker. Bladee beats his chest, waking himself up. He’s come this far, and the ghostly white arches have begun to morph into cathedral-like arches and buttresses. This must be the beginnings of the palace, the intricate structure at the core of the catacombs. Bladee continues on.
He was born for this, godaamnit. He’s trained under the most vicious warlord this world has to offer. Jonatan’s face flashes into his mind, smirking at him with contempt. He would laugh at Bladee succumbing to such a threat. A few hulking abominations is nothing. Bladee used to lead men into battle to face vast armies. He thinks of Lilith and Beatrice, and how much they’re relying on him.
Further in, the architecture becomes darker. The ceilings now grow closer and closer. Skulls line the arches along the cave, and skeletal parts are paved along the walls. Bladee tries to stay as alert as possible as the haze affecting his brain grows.
Thump.
Bladee’s heart pounds wildly as he grips his sword tight, freezing in a defensive stance.
Thump. Thump. Thump
The footsteps are very slow, but growing closer and closer. And Bladee has no idea which way they’re coming from. Just when he goes and turns around, he hears heavy breathing. He gasps, jumping into a defensive stance. In front of him stands an abomination. the pale, white, grotesque gargantuan beast. Bladee takes off running, and he soon hears booming footsteps behind him. They start slow and pick up speed quick until the ogre is hot on his trail.
What the fuck, how?!
The ogre’s giant hand pushes Bladee against the stone wall at full force. He wheezes, his breath knocked out of him. His sword clatters on the ground.
Before his brain can register the situation, his eyes lock onto the grotesque swinging phallus between the Ogre’s legs. Dread sinks in as he realizes the extent of the danger he’s in, even after the innkeeper informed him of the ogre’s foul and lustful ways. If Beatrice is still alive, she won’t be leaving the same. He scrambles to retrieve his weapon and rise to his feet, brandishing it with fear-stricken eyes. The creature swings its axe and Bladee springs to life and dodges, deflecting with his sword.
This might not be about life or death. It may be something far worse.
He tries to stay light on his feet, attempting to corner and stab the hulking beast by overwhelming it with his quick movements. As he looks into its eyes he feels his resolve wavering. Its red irises are so beastlike and inhuman, but they also contain a knowing gleam. As if much more lies behind its eyes than Bladee could ever imagine.
Bladee is caught off guard by a sweeping kick and loses his footing, slamming into the stone wall behind him. The ogre immediately grabs him with ease.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” He cries out repeatedly as he feels his furs, leathers and belt being ripped off of him. Bladee nearly vomits as he feels the huge, rough fingers of the ogre wandering into his undergarments. His legs kick and flail in the air, but the ogre just removes the cloth with ease. He’s now naked, unarmed, exposed. The beast holds the defeated knight in a death grip as it exposes its own member, stroking it to life. Bladee begs and pleads. He doesn’t even know if the creatures can understand, but maybe some merciful god will hear his cries.
Bladee is brought to the floor, his legs forced open. As the ogre presses against him he feels the air forced out of his lungs. He’s completely immobilized by its weight, and he feels the head of the monster cock brushing against his ass. He’s crying and screaming, thrashing as hard as he can to escape its grip, but the resistance just makes the monster restrain him tighter. Is this really it? This might be the worst way to die, Bladee thinks. He grits his teeth and whimpers, doing what he can to prepare himself for the unthinkable.
The impossibly large cock doesn’t just enter him, it rips into him, forcing its way in. A violent, intruding object that was never meant to fit into such a small vessel, but it makes its way in. White hot searing pain crashes over Bladee.
“GHHHHHHAAHHHHH!”
His body can’t handle the abuse. He passes out, which gives his mind and body some rest from the hell it’s been through.
He wakes up to two more ogres surrounding him. The ogre now has him lifted in the air, repeatedly impaling Bladee on its monstrous dick like a human sheath.
“Aaa... aaaagh” His voice rattles out, his mouth in a silent scream. His insides feel as if they’ve been pulverized. His hands grasp weakly at whatever they can, which happens to be the ogre currently ravishing him. It lets out a low rumbling chuckle.
It’s so impossibly deep. Looking down, Bladee nearly passes out again at the sight of own his abdomen bulging with the thrusts of the ogre. The thrusts grow quicker, and it feels like his lungs are being pummeled repeatedly.
He slips out of consciousness again as the ogre fully hilts inside of him, flooding his poor tiny human insides with an impossibly large load. and the first thing he feels as he fades back into reality is the cock being replaced by a similarly sized one. It’s torture to the abused lad, and he gargles out a broken scream. The amount of blood pouring out of him seems endless as it gushes down his thighs.
The adrenaline now rushing through him keeps him awake and alive against his will.
The second ogre lifts Bladee up and holds him against the wall, thrusting into him relentlessly. With each thrust, he can barely fit in half his cock, stretching the poor adventurer to his physical limit.
“Gaaaghh- fuck you, disgusting piece of shit,”
He musters all of his strength to spit in the ogre’s face. The ogre just chuckles, grasping his hips and thrusting in deeper. The delicate tissue of his lungs feels like it’s being crushed, torn apart. Bladee’s screams ring out, echoing through the catacombs. He wishes the ogres had just killed him. He takes solace in knowing that Valhalla awaits him.
The pain has his mind short circuiting. It’s all a blur. After the last ogre finishes, Bladee is thrown to the floor like trash, half alive. His own blood pools around him, the only source of warmth he has. He feels as if he only has mere moments left, so he decides to spend them peacefully. He curls up into fetal position and waits for the Gods to take him.
Bladee can only hope they don’t inspect his injuries too closely by the time he’s a carcass in the town square. A knight deserves dignity in death.
✥✥✥
Bladee awakens on the cold cave floor, head pounding and body aching like nothing he’s ever felt before. He lets out a pained groan as his eyes adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. He has no idea how he ended up in a dungeon, but as he looks around, his memory comes flooding back as he sees the slain bodies of the ogres that violated him. He feels the trickle the blood that continues to flow from him. He screams out in pain, his voice echoing throughout the catacombs. That’s when he hears the sighing of a horse behind him. His head shoots up.
“Benjamin.”
There he sits, on his white steed alongside a beaten and bloodied Beatrice.
“J-Jonatan….?”