Something a little different. I had a little drabble idea of Hizashi and Shouta getting captured and held together. (I feel like in every fanfic its either one or the other being held captive) Why not both.
Anyway, if this is something you would like to see more of, maybe actually a comic or something. Let me know! (Or if you have any good fic recs in this genre).
Any time I see in a show or movie or whatever someone's captured but their hands are just like boringly bound in front of them and there's no other restraints I'm like why did they even bother
(IF YOU FIND GAGS DISGUSTING, I SUGGEST YOU DON'T READ THIS. It's also very low-quality as it was written in one sitting.)
(...)
"HELP! HELP ME!" Whumpee howled at the top of their lungs, thrashing around as Whumper held them down and restrained their arms, desperate to keep them from getting attention. "PLEASE, HELP - I'VE BEEN KIDN-"
"Shut it!" Whumper hissed, clamping a hand down on Whumpee's mouth; the latter immediately yelping in surprise. Either Whumper's hand was huge or Whumpee's jaw was tiny, because the former's hand almost covered their victim's nose and neck as well. Shaking their head, Whumper looked around for anything that could be used to silence Whumpee. Eventually, their eyes settled on the sock drawer in the corner of the bathroom. They got up, hand leaving Whumpee's mouth for a few seconds as Whumper rushed to the drawer, grabbing three pairs of socks and hurrying back to their victim, who had already started screaming again. When they saw what Whumper was holding, however, their eyebrows furrowed and they quieted down, as if caught off-guard. "W-wait, what are you gonna do with - NO! NO, PLEASE D - AUGH!!" they cried as Whumper stuffed the first pair of socks into the left side of Whumpee's mouth.
Whumper grabbed at the inside of Whumpee's lips; making sure the socks filled every corner of the left side, even as Whumpee desperately tried to push the socks out with their tongue. Whumper gave them a good smack on the cheek before reaching for another pair of socks.
"AUGH, OUGH," Whumpee complained; their tongue already drying out. When they noticed Whumper reaching for the other pair of socks, they shook their head violently in panic, but Whumper simply rolled their eyes and shoved the next pair into the right corner of Whumpee's mouth. Whumpee retched as the uncomfortable fabric filled their entire jaw, making it impossible to move their tongue or even close their mouth. "MMMPPHH!" they cried, the corners of their mouth itching from how Whumper had forcefully pried it open.
"Quit your whining. I'm not even done yet," Whumper said, holding up the third pair of socks, which had a unicorn pattern. "...Hold up, I think these are my niece's. Ah, well, I'm sure she won't miss 'em."
Whumpee's eyes filled with involuntary tears, and they began pushing themselves backwards using their legs. "Mmmpphh - MMPPH!" they screeched, as if desperately trying to tell Whumper their mouth couldn't fit another pair of socks. It was already stretched beyond its limit, their cheeks bulging out like a squirrel. If Whumper shoved the next pair in, it would hurt, surely they'd know that!
Of course they knew. Whumper just didn't give a shit about Whumpee's comfort.
Whumper leaned forward, attempting to stuff the last pair into Whumpee's mouth, but the latter began to howl and kick at Whumper, one leg even hitting them square in the stomach. Whumper let out a soft "oof!" as they stumbled backward, giving Whumpee time to get to their feet and run away. Though they didn't make it three feet before Whumper grabbed them by the hair and threw them to the bathroom floor again. Whumpee cried at the pain, snot and tears flowing down their face onto the sock gag.
"You spoiled brat," Whumper hissed, pinning Whumpee to the floor by their wrists. "Who do you think you are, pushing back against me like that? This is exactly why nobody wants to put up with you. You're lucky gagging you is all I'm doing."
Ignoring Whumpee's terrified wailing, Whumper shoved the last pair of socks between the former's teeth, ignoring their victim's chokes as the fabric hit the back of their throat, activating the gag reflex. A single sock with a couple wet patches hung from their mouth, as it hadn't managed to fully fit inside. Whumpee, far too weak from the hit to fight back now, could only whimper pathetically as Whumper tore the scarf they had wrapped around their neck, tied it into a knot in the middle and shoved part of the knot into Whumpee's already overexerted mouth. "Ough!" Whumpee moaned as Whumper tied the scarf in an extremely tight knot at the back of their head. Finally, Whumper grabbed a roll of duct tape and wrapped it one, two, three times around Whumpee's jaw, finishing up the process.
Whumper propped Whumpee up against the wall and took a few steps back, admiring their masterpiece. Whumpee looked like a neatly packaged Christmas present where they sat, all tied up and pretty. Their eyes were half-lidded and drool dripped from the duct tape and sock as they whimpered softly.
Whumper smiled triumphantly. "I will admit, Whumpee, I wasn't actually sure if your mouth was big enough to fit all of that. Gotta say it was worth it, though. You're a lot more tolerable to be around when you're worn-out and quiet."
Whumper narrowed their eyes in humiliation and anger, cheeks flushing red.
"Hey, is everything alright in there? I heard screaming!" a distant voice yelled.
Whumpee's eyes lit up for a split second, but Whumper quickly rushed over and pinched the former's nose shut, rendering them helpless once again. "Yeah, I'm fine, Caretaker. Just taking care of a bug."
Whumpee squirmed and protested silently as Caretaker laughed. "Didn't take you for an entomophobe. Sure you don't need any help killing it?"
"Nah," Whumper replied smoothly, eyes still fixated on Whumpee as a grin spread across their face. "I've got this one covered."
Whumper gagging Whumpee. Whumpee tries to resist, to twist their head, and even after the gag is on they're still making muffled noises of protest.
Whumper just raises their eyebrows and says, âLet me guess what you were gonna say -- âPlease stop oh god please no, donât do that, it hurts!' Did I miss anything? No? Then it stays on."
Summary: Crystal, the resident farmer, has an encounter with her ex. This causes unforeseen consequences for her current husband, Elliott.
CWs: Kidnapping, used as bait, rescue, blood, sword fighting, unconsciousness, exes, angst with a happy ending, bound and gagged, whumpee x caretaker, past whumper x caretaker
A/N: A gift for my good friend, @melpomenelamusa â€ïž Thank you for being my friend :) Anyway, enjoy!
_____
Crystal hummed a tune to herself as she tended to her crops. Meanwhile, her husband, Elliott, dealt with the farm animals. She was glad that Elliott had stepped up to help around the farm after he was injured once; it made her job much easier and quicker. She appreciated his hard work the past several weeks.
It was another regular day, with the sun beating down on her, she began to sweat. She stopped momentarily to drink some water. Every day was the usual fare, tending to the crops and animals⊠but it sure beat the city-life any day in her opinion. She didn't want it any other way. Here, she made friends, met the love of her life⊠overall, she was happy. She was glad sheâd made the decision to move.
Her cat, Cheeseburger, growled and hissed in the distance as she was about to return her attention to the crops. She stopped what she was doing, raising a brow; in the few years of owning her cat, he had never made such sounds, even as a stray, according to Marnie. Did he get into trouble? Or worseâ
"Hey, it's okay," the voice was deep and⊠familiar; it came from the entrance of Crystal's farm, "I'm a nice guy, kitty."
Crystal's heart dropped, the sweat that beaded down her face was no longer from the heat. Eyes wide and pulse racing, she rushed to the entrance of her farm.
It was him. Someone she didn't want to ever see again, after what he had done. He stood there, holding a box wrapped up in a bow.
Diego. The bastard.
Diego noticed her, and he smiled; a fake, strained one. Crystal could tell.
"Hey, Crys," he greeted, all sweet and friendly, "Sorry for dropping in so suddenly. I was just admiring your farm; you did pretty well with keeping it nice andâ"
"Cut the crap, Diego," Crystal growled, "what do you want?! What are you doing here?!"
"Just passing by," Diego laughed and held up the box, "while on my way here, I bought you this. Think you might like it?"
Crystal gritted her teeth, her hands balled into fists as she fought the urge to beat this man to a pulp. With shaky hands, she slapped the gift out of Diego's hands. He made a surprised sound as it hit the ground.
"I know what you're trying to do, asshole!" Crystal yelled, "You're trying to win me back! I told you a hundred times, the answer is no! I'm not coming back to you!"
She didnât notice her husband approaching her from behind, until Elliott's slender arms hugged her waist. She stopped yelling then, relaxing somewhat, though the tension remained.
"Is something wrong, my love?" Elliott asked, concern laced into his voice, "I heard you yelling from across the farm."
"That's myâ"
"And who is that?" Diego questioned, his voice suddenly sharp with traces of anger.
"I am Elliott, Crystal's husband," Elliott introduced himself, "may I ask what is going on?"
Crystal gulped when she saw Diego's eye twitching at the mention of "husband". He clenched his jaw, his glare set firmly on Elliott. "Husband? After everything we went through, Crys, you chose this guy to be your husband?!"
Elliott's eyes narrowed, his hold on Crystal tightening. "Do not speak to her that way. Get out, now!"
"Or else what?"
"I will call the authorities," Elliott threatened, "or maybe even our neighbor, who has military experience, can come by and teach you a lesson as well?"
Diego paused, as if weighing his options. After a few tense seconds, he scoffed and turned on his heel, muttering something that neither Crystal nor Elliott heard.
They watched him leave the farm, with Crystal still shaking in Elliott's arms. Elliott frowned, glancing down at his wife before he kissed her cheek. "My love, why don't you come inside?"
"Y-yes, pleaseâŠ" Crystal agreed.
The two entered their shared home, with Cheeseburger not far behind. Elliott helped Crystal on the couch, as Cheeseburger settled on Crystal's lap for a quick nap, his purring machine on.
"Could you explain who he is?" Elliott asked, words careful as not to worsen her nerves.
Crystal nodded, her voice quivered when she spoke.
"He's⊠my ex. He cheated on me before I moved here. When I broke up with him, heâŠ" she sniffled, the tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I had to get away from him. I didn't have a choiceâŠ" Tears fell, and she knew this was breaking Elliott's heart. "I don't know how he found me here butâ"
"Oh, my loveâŠ" Elliott whispered, embracing her, "I am so terribly sorry you had to go through such a bad relationship⊠there is no need to blame yourself." He kissed her cheek, taking Crystal's hand to rub it with his thumb gently. "But I assure you, I will make sure he doesn't step foot on this farm again. I'll protect you, I promise."
Crystal wiped away her tears with her free hand, sniffling. With a small smile, she whispered, "Oh Elliott⊠thank youâŠ"
Crystal's smile grew, as her eyes sparkled. Elliott chuckled with a grin.
"That would be wonderful, Elliott," she said, "thank you so much."
"Of course, my love."
With another kiss, Elliott stood and went to the kitchen. Despite what had happened, the rest of the day went by as normal but happy. That was what Crystal wanted; as long as she and Elliott were together, everything would be alright.
_____
Elliott left the farm the next day, intending on running an errand. He bade his beloved Crystal farewell, even kissing her before he did so. Crystal, of course, was concerned about him going alone, but Elliott told her that he would be fine; she had taught him self-defense just in case something happened.
Elliott closed his eyes, taking in the summer air. He always enjoyed walks to Pelican Town; he could take in the scenery, plus whenever he had writer's block, he would usually go out like this to clear his mind. It always helped tremendously, as when he returned, he usually got out of his block.
He failed to notice the footsteps approaching from behind, too stuck in his enjoyment of the scenery⊠until it was too late. A hand covered his mouth, and he let out a muffled shout of surprise. The moment he realized what was going on, however, he stomped on his assailant's foot. His attacker yelped in pain as Elliott turned to face whoever ambushed him, fists up and ready to fight.
When he identified who it was, he froze.
It was the same man who had harassed Crystal yesterday; this time, there was a backpack on his back, and a sword sheathed to his side. Elliott's face paled, this man was armed and dangerous.
"You!" Elliott exclaimed, "What are you doing here?!"
Diego smirked. "Isn't it obvious?" he said, "I'm here to get you out of the picture."
"You're crazy!" Elliott exclaimed.
"You took my Crystal," Diego's voice suddenly rose, his eyes narrowed. "She belongs to me, not to some snotty person like you!"
"She will never be yours," Elliott snapped back, "she's not anyoneâs to own!"
"Shut up!" Diego yelled, "I'll make sure she returns to me⊠and you're going to help me!"
Diego pulled out his sword and lunged, and Elliott sidestepped out of harm's way, not a moment too early as the sword slashed through the air where he'd only been a second ago. He backed away with wide eyes. This man was insane. his eyes wide at the sword. He could take on Diego, but when Diego had a weapon? He was at a disadvantage.
Diego charged Elliott again, sword raised, and Elliott ducked from the swing of the sword, before he swept Diego's legs. Diego yelped as he fell to the ground, but quickly stood, sword still in hand.
Diego charged again, and Elliott rushed forward to punch him in the face⊠but right as he got close enough, Diego dodged to the side and he felt the dill hilt of the sword connect with the back of his head. Elliott gasped. Dropping to his knees, he could feel something warm and sticky running down the back of his neck. Darkness began to creep in from the corners of his eyes.
Diego shook his head. "Sad. I was hoping you would put up more of a fight⊠oh well."
The last thing Elliott heard before he went unconscious was Diego's boots approaching him.
_____
Crystal glanced at the clock on the wall, her hands fidgeting with her hair. Her chest was feeling uncomfortably tight. It had been a few hours since Elliott left, and he had yet to return. She knew that the trip from her farm to Pelican Town wouldn't take long⊠unless Elliott got distracted or stopped along the way.Â
Or maybe something happened to him, her thoughts suggested, maybe he ended up hurt somewhere orâ
She shook her head, sighing. No, sheâd taught Elliott how to fight after he was kidnapped a few times. Surely he would be able to defend himself if necessary.
She waited.
And waited.
It kept getting later.
Her heart was racing now. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong!
She stood from the couch and grabbed her sword. She sheathed it and placed a few bombs in her pocket. She would rather be prepared than be caught off guard.
She rushed outside, the sun was already setting, which just added to her worry. She wasted so much time waiting.
She ran towards the path that led to Pelican Town, looking for any sign of her husband, when she noticed something.
A trail of footprints in the ground. She recognized the footprints as Elliott's boots, but there was a second set, close by. Near the end of the trail was an obvious struggle before Elliott's footprints disappeared, replaced by the second set.
And lying on the ground was a mermaid pendant, stomped into the mud. Elliott's mermaid pendant.
Her blood ran cold. Elliott never took off the pendant, even when bathing; he said that it showed his love and devotion to Crystal. Someone must have forcefully taken it off of him.
Her fears were confirmed when she saw a note close by, along with a picture taped to it. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw what the picture showed.
It was Elliott, bound to a chair, with a few layers of duct tape across his mouth. A small, dim light shone on him, as if he was the star of the show. A streak of blood trickled down from his nose, and he sported a black eye. His clothes were disheveled, something that was uncharacteristic of Elliott. He was looking straight at the camera. His eyes were wide and he looked so afraid.
Crystal took the note into shaking hands, trying to blink away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was barely able to breathe as she looked over the note.
I have your husband. Come back to the city at the abandoned warehouse if you want him back, or else.
The floor felt like it had been ripped out from under her. She didnât even notice her lips parting with how desperately tight her lungs felt and that pit in her stomach was only growing. Sheâd recognize that handwriting anywhere.
Diego took her beloved Elliott. She didnât think Diego had it in him to pull something like this. She should have known better.
She gripped the note so tightly it ripped in her hold. Without a second thought, she rushed to the bus stop. Pam wasn't there today, thankfully; otherwise she would have to explain what was happening and that would only risk Elliott's life.
She would bring her husband back home. She promised herself that.
_____
When she arrived, she shuddered when she looked over the state of the warehouse. Deep holes in the roof, and rats scurried to and fro. The stench of trash and rot hit her nostrils, making bile rise up in her throat. The door was barely on its hinges, but Crystal could see light pouring from the crack.
She took a deep breath, trying to shove down her anger and worries; they wouldn't serve her right now. She couldn't just rush in; she needed to get inside, free Elliott, and run before Diego could spot her.
Gripping the hilt of her sword, she opened the door.
There, in the middle of the room, was Elliott, tied to that same chair. His head was down, but when Crystal entered, he glanced up. The tape remained over his mouth, but Elliott's horrified eyes said it all.
"Elliott," Crystal heaved a sigh of relief. He was alive. Thank Yoba.
She took a step, but stopped when he screamed out through the tape, shaking his head frantically as he gestured to something to the side. His eyes grew wider and wider as he tried to speak through the gag.
Crystal knew what he was trying to say. It was a trap.
"Welcome back, Crystal."
Revealing himself from the shadows on the side was none other than Diego, who smirked at Crystal as he moved to stand in front of Elliott. He held a sword, which worried Crystal more than anything else about this. No wonder heâd overpowered Elliott; Diego was armed and took him down while Elliott had never used a sword.
"Let him go, Diego," Crystal growled, "I'm here, like you wanted. Let him go now!"
"Then come back to me," Diego said, his voice hardening, "return to the city with me, and I'll get what's mine. OtherwiseâŠ" he glanced over at Elliott, who glared at him.
Crystal could only see red at this point. Who did he think he was? She wasn't an object to be used.
"Fuck you," Crystal snapped, "I'm not coming back with you, you psychopath! What part of that do you not understand?!"
Diego's face transformed from smug to anger, as he gritted his teeth, before he held his sword up.
"What makes you think you have a choice?"
He lunged, and Crystal blocked his sword with her own. She struggled against him as he pushed his entire body weight into the push. However, with incredible strength, she pushed him back, and Diego stumbled as Crystal slashed his chest. Small drops of blood trickled down.
"You fucking bitch!" he hissed, before he rushed forward in a stabbing motion.
She let him get close and dodged the tip of the sword at the last second, to give herself the leverage to get behind him. She'd miscalculated, however, and the side of it left a shallow cut on her hip. She ignored the pain and slammed the back of her sword into Diego's back. He crashed to the ground but was only stunned for a second. She didn't react in time when he swiped her legs, making her fall to the ground next to him. She barely had time to lift her sword to block the swing of his sword trying to crash into her.
Diego sprang to his feet, sword raised. Crystal did the same.
Elliott, still bound to a chair, could only watch as his wife fought for her life. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as Crystal was struck in the face by Diego's fist. Upon seeing this, Crystal gritted her teeth and fought harder.
Crystal struck Diego with her fist, and he staggered. Diego groaned in pain, gritting his teeth as he held his bleeding chest. His eyes shuffled from Crystal⊠to Elliott. As if a switch was flicked on, he grinned sadistically before he dodged past Crystal to rush toward him.
Elliott gasped through the tape, as he struggled against his bonds. He tried to scoot the chair back, to get away from Diego, but he was stuck in place.
"Don't you dare, asshole!" Crystal's voice cried, as she chased after Diego with surprising speed.
To Elliott's relief, Crystal was faster, and with one swing of her sword, she hit Diego over the head with the hilt of her sword, knocking Diego out cold. Crystal breathed heavily, before she glanced at Elliott, who squirmed against his bonds and mumbled through the tape.
"Elliott!" Crystal exclaimed, as she stepped over Diego to run towards her beloved. With her sword, she cut the ropes holding Elliott to the chair, before helping him gently pry the tape from his lips.
"My love," Elliott whispered, voice barely returning when the tape was removed. "Are you harmâ"
He didn't finish, as Crystal embraced him, burying her face in his shoulder. She shivered, tears falling on Elliott's shirt.
"Oh ElliottâŠ" Crystal sobbed, "I'm so sorry⊠if I had knownâŠ"
"Oh my dear," Elliott whispered, the tears in his own eyes about to fall, "please don't blame yourself. We're both safe, and that's what matters."
He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back as he too sniffled. His heart began to slow as the adrenaline began to fade from his veins.
They stayed this way for a few minutes before Crystal released Elliott.
"We should call the authorities," Crystal said.
Elliott nodded, glancing over her shoulder to see Diego still unconscious. After everything Diego had done, he was a dangerous individual who should get help.
_____
The authorities arrested Diego by the time he regained consciousness. As they took him away, Crystal and Elliott talked to the authorities for a minute to tell them the full story. Once they were finished, they sat on the steps of the abandoned warehouse, still shaking off the adrenaline from the kidnapping and their lives being threatened. They were silent for a few minutes, just trying to process everything.
Finally, after taking a deep breath, Crystal spoke.
"I'm sorry, Elliott."
Elliott glanced over to his wife, a small frown on his face.
"I⊠didn't expect Diego to go this far to try to get me back," Crystal sniffled, "if I had known, I'd have come with you. I would have kept you safe andâ"
"My love," Elliott whispered, taking her hand in his. He squeezed it gently. "Please don't blame yourself. It was my fault; if I had fought harder, you wouldn't have risked your life for me again. I'm terribly sorryâŠ"
"Elliott⊠please don't say that." Crystal scooted closer to her husband, squeezing his hand. "Diego was armed. You had no way to fight him off while he had a sword."
With her free hand, she dug out the mermaid pendant that Diego had taken off from Elliott, and handed it to her beloved; her one, true love.
"Know this," Crystal began, a smile appearing on her face, "I only have eyes for you, and you only. No one else. You're someone I love deeply, and someone who I will always protect, no matter what."
Elliott's eyes began to water, as he clasped his hand around the pendant. With a shaky but genuine smile, he took the pendant and placed it around his neck. "Oh my love⊠I will protect you as well. I promise. You are the light of my life, and I will always love you."
Crystal curled up beside Elliott, warmth spreading in her chest as she placed her head on his shoulder. Despite being in the city, something she tried to avoid for so long since she moved to Pelican Town, she felt safe. Because of Elliott.
"I love you, Elliott. Always." Crystal said.
"I love you too, Crystal." Elliott responded.
Elliott scooted closer to her, and Crystal took the cue. Their lips met, with Elliott placing his hand on Crystal's racing heartbeat. Crystal leaned into the kiss, as Elliott blushed.
They parted, both smiling.
They knew that their love would be strong, and that they would always keep each other safe. No matter what.Â
CW: nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, avian whumpee, vampire whumper, lady whumper, vampire bite, multiple whumpers, captivity, bloodbag whumpee, mention of violente murder, mention of blood, mention of corpses, mention of murder of a child, mention of death, fantasy violence, non-con connotations, non-con touch (not sexual, just vampiric i guess).
"NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO!"
"Someone shut him up already!"
The vampiresâ sharp nails dug like thorns into TeklĂłmenesâ flesh, pinning him hard against the freezing, polished stone floor.
A full day had passed since the avian had fallen into the vampiresâ hands. Not long after Lady Winterâthe apparent matriarch of that nest of bloodsuckersâclaimed him as her personal bloodbag, TeklĂłmenes had fainted again due to blood loss.
He awoke some time later in a dark, stone room. The only light came from a narrow slit in the wall, through which he could glimpse the sunlight beyond, like a distant treasure forever out of reach. No matter how hoarse his screams became, no one answered. The door was a massive slab of stone, immovable no matter how desperately he shoved or kicked at it. With no escape and nothing else left to do, he cried until exhaustion dragged him back into sleep.
When he woke againâhis stomach hollow and snarling with hungerâthe sun had just set. That was when he realized he was no longer alone. Silas stood watching him with quiet attention, leaning against the wall in a deceptively relaxed pose. A hovering orb of pale magic light revealed the calm, unreadable lines of his face.
"At last, youâre awake," he said, stepping closer. "You must be starving. Iâll go to the village and bring you something to eat. What would you like?"
TeklĂłmenes said nothing. He only stared at the vampire, eyes burning with raw hatred. The other let out a slow, tired sigh.
"You have to eat, or weâre all doomed," he explained. "If you donât eat, you dieâand if you die, we lose our blood supply. Thatâs how this works."
The avian remained silent, turning his head away as if even looking at him was unbearable. He didnât bother to acknowledge his captor any longer. Silas took a step closer.
"You may not believe me, but Iâm helping you. If it had been anyone elseâor worse, one of the neophytesâwho found you yesterday, youâd already be rotting in some alley, drained dry like a husk. I convinced Lady Winter to keep you here instead of in her coffin. At her age, some vampires forget creatures like you need air. If I hadnât intervened, you wouldâve suffocated before dawn."
Irritation edged Silasâs voice, as though he expected gratitude, something TeklĂłmenes would never give. Instead, he turned his back on him and curled in on himself, wrapping his wings tightly around his body as he sank to the floor.
"Fine," Silas muttered. "Iâll come back later, and youâd better eat what I bring you."
With that, he shoved the heavy stone slab aside with effortless strength, stepped out, and sealed it shut again, leaving TeklĂłmenes alone with his spiraling thoughts. The avian thought of Freyraâhow she must be worried sick after hearing nothing from him for over a day. Would she search for him? Could she ever find him? TeklĂłmenes didnât want to die bled dry by vampires, but neither could he bear the thought of living as one of their bloodbags until age or sickness finally claimed him.
Vampires were faster and stronger, so fighting one head-on would be suicide. If he pretended to cooperate⊠could he find an opening to escape? But he was so angry. Just the sight of Silasâs face burned away his reason, feeding a furious fire inside his chest. The bite at his neck still throbbed faintly.
Some time later, the stone slab shifted again, and Silas stepped inside carrying a plate of food. It smelled rich and warm. It was roasted lamb, soft vegetables and fresh bread. A glass of water accompanied it.
"Eat," Silas ordered. "If you donât nourish yourself properly, your blood becomes useless to us. Remember, youâre alive because, for some reason, your blood has something special. And if that something depends on your diet, then itâs in your best interest to eat."
TeklĂłmenes bit down hard on his tongue to keep back an insult and chose silence instead. It was true he was starving. Once he finished, Silas seized him by the arm and dragged him to another room where he was allowed to relieve himself. Then he was hauled into yet another chamber, where two vampire women waited beside a tub brimming with water.
"Undress," Silas said.
"What?!" TeklĂłmenes recoiled, instinctively covering himself with his wings.
"Do it, or theyâll do it for you," Silas replied, gesturing toward the two women. They smiled with sharp, predatory smiles that sent a cold shudder racing down TeklĂłmenesâ spine.
Seeing himself trapped between a rock and a hard place, the avian swallowed his pride and slowly removed his clothes, keeping his wings wrapped tightly around himself in a futile attempt to preserve his modesty. Then, as instructed, he stepped into the tub.
The water was freezing, so cold it tore a strangled cry from his throat as he jerked back out. The vampire women showed no mercy. Their hands clamped onto him, forcing him back into the icy water, scrubbing him harshly with soap and coarse sponges until his skin burned raw and sensitive. When they were done, they dragged him out. His soft feathers were drenched, clinging to him in heavy, sodden layers he could barely lift.
"Milady wants you to wear this," Silas said, tossing him a bundle of cloth.
As TeklĂłmenes unfolded it, heat rushed to his face and his stomach twisted in humiliation. It was nothing more than a long white loincloth, thin chains delicately draped across it.
"Is⊠is this all Iâm supposed to wear?" he asked, voice tight. "W-what about my clothes?"
"You belong to Milady. She wants you dressed like that," Silas replied flatly.
Swallowing hard, TeklĂłmenes obeyed. Half-naked, wings heavy and dripping, he felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten with dread. As they led him through the dark corridors of the palace, he felt eyes everywhereâpiercing gazes from the shadows. Vampires watched him, lips curling, tongues flicking over sharp teeth as they stared at him like fresh meat, hungry and eager to devour him.
Upon reaching the main hall, Lady Winter was already waiting, seated upon her imposing throne.
"Come," the woman beckoned, gesturing for TeklĂłmenes to approach.
The avian hesitated for a second. He wasnât tied up, but his soaked feathers made flight impossible. If he tried to flee now, he would be caught instantly. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself up the steps and stopped before her.
"Sit," she said, smiling and baring her fangs as she patted her thigh.
TeklĂłmenes wanted to scream, to bolt, but ignoring all the alarms inside his head, he obeyed and sat astride her lap. Her arm slid around his waist in a gesture that was far too intimate, far too possessive for his comfort. Despite her delicate frame, her strength was unmistakable, and within seconds TeklĂłmenes realized he was completely trapped. With her free hand, she began stroking his damp feathers, and he fought with everything in him to keep from shuddering.
"You smell exquisite," the vampire murmured, pressing her nose against his neck, right over the frantic pulse of his jugular. "Iâm dying to taste you⊠but first, Iâll let the younger ones feed."
At that moment, the great doors creaked open, and a group of vampires entered, dragging several humans with them. They looked like peasants, men and women alike, and among them was a little girl, no older than nine. All of them stared around in sheer terror as the vampires circled them like starving wolves, hemming them in.
"Please⊠have mercyâŠ" one woman sobbed, tears in her eyes.
Lady Winterâs expression did not change. With a simple flick of her fingers, she gave the order. Instantly, the vampires descended upon their prey. The hall erupted into screams of desperate terror and agony. TeklĂłmenes turned despite himself, horror flooding him as he witnessed the brutality, the merciless savagery of the slaughter.
"Ignore them." Lady Winterâs cruel fingers seized his chin, forcing his gaze back to her crimson eyes. "You are mine. That means your only concern is obeying me⊠and pleasing me."
Her fangs sank into his neck.
Pain flared instantly, sharp and searing, spreading through his veins like liquid fire as his blood was drawn from him. She pulled him flush against her body, locking him in place as her fangs drove deeper. TeklĂłmenesâ cries were swallowed by the chaos around him, lost beneath the chorus of sufferingâuntil, little by little, the noise died and everything fell back into a sepulchral silence.
"Donât cry," Lady Winter murmured once she pulled away, brushing a tear from his cheek with chilling tenderness.
With another gesture, she ordered the others to clean the carnage. She did not release TeklĂłmenes until every trace of blood and corpses had vanished as though nothing had ever happened.
"Go. Wander for a while," she said, her cold fingers ghosting over the fresh wound on the avianâs neck. "Iâll summon you when I desire you again."
TeklĂłmenes rose on trembling legs, the world tilting slightly beneath him. Dizzy, he descended the steps and slipped through the first doorway he found. Once inside, he collapsed against the wall and slid down to the floor, struggling to steady his breathing, to loosen the tight, choking knot in his throat. His head spun, still echoing with the screams of the peasantsâwith the phantom sensation of fangs tearing into his flesh.
He was utterly, completely terrified. There was no softer word for it. He wanted nothing more than to go home, back to his nest, to Freyra, to safety. He despised feeling weak and powerless, but what these vampires stirred in him was something deeper than fear, something colder than what the drakones had ever inspired. At least, the drakones, even the scariest ones, had never made him feel like meat, like an object meant to be consumed and discarded. Â
He had to escape, or else he would die.
After some time of resting, once his breathing steadied and his thoughts cleared just enough, he pushed himself to his feet, resolve hardening within him. If he wanted any chance at freedom, he needed a plan.
First, he had to dry his feathers. If he could find a window large enough, he might still be able to fly and make it back to the kingdom. Â
With renewed determination, he wandered until he found an empty chamber where he could spread his wings. There, he carefully began cleaning and airing them, coaxing them to dry faster. The castle was vast, with endless corridors and hollow rooms, so with any luck, he could find a viable exit⊠and avoid crossing paths with another vampire along the way.
But as he explored the crumbling structure, that fragile hope began to rot away. The windows, what few remained, were far too small, narrow slits meant only for light. Any opening large enough to pass through was sealed by massive stones or collapsed walls. For a vampire, such architecture kept the deadly sunlight at bay; but for TeklĂłmenes, it was a cage.
After hours of wandering through suffocating darkness, through silent and decaying halls, he came to a grim realization: the only window large enough for escape was the great circular opening overlooking the throne hall itself.
It would be a single chance.
Some time later, a bat appeared beside TeklĂłmenes.
"Milady is waiting for you in the throne hall," it rasped.
As he followed the creature, TeklĂłmenes felt his heart hammering violently inside his chest. Soon, a melody drifted to his ears. The music, though bright and lilting, sounded wrong and twisted within that place. When he reached the throne hall, he found it overflowing with vampires, all dancing a slow waltz to the haunting strains of enchanted violins. The full moon spilled its pale light through the great circular window, illuminating the figures spinning in perfect synchrony, their crimson eyes glinting in the dark like polished rubies.
Lady Winter stood waiting at the foot of the stairs. She extended her hand.
"Properly greet your mistress," she said.
TeklĂłmenes knew this was his only chance to escape. He would wait until he was close enough to the window to fly, so for now, he had to endure and play along a little longer. He dropped to one knee and pressed a reluctant kiss to her cold, pale hand. Lady Winterâs fingers curled beneath his chin, lifting his face.
"Such a gentleman," she murmured, brushing her thumb slowly over his lower lip. "That only makes me like you more."
She guided him onto the dance floor, one arm wrapping around his waist as her other hand captured his. Together, they began to move, falling into the rhythm of the waltz. The other couples drifted aside, parting for them as they glided across the hall. This time, TeklĂłmenes refused to lose himself in the music or the motionâhis mind remained fixed on the present, on the window, on escape, on his longed-for freedom.
"Do you know?" Lady Winter began softly. Even her breath felt like frost against his skin. "This palace belonged to my parents three centuries ago. I was meant to inherit it⊠until one night, a vampire came for me. That night, I diedâbut I was reborn as something greater. He made me one of his wives, and together we returned to this castle. By then, my sister had already taken the throne. We slaughtered everyone we could. The rest fled. I was young then, too young to control my hunger. I will never forget the moment I held my beloved sister in my arms as I drained her dry⊠her blood filling me, silencing the grief of everything I had lost."
She smiled faintly, almost nostalgic.
"With time, I grew stronger. I turned on my husband and killed him. Then I chose to build my empire here, an empire where my subjects would never die. Doesnât that sound⊠wonderful?"
TeklĂłmenes said nothing. She didnât seem to mind, only smiling at him.
"I have no interest in new husbands," she went on lightly. "But a pet like you⊠that has its appeal."
Without warning, she leaned in and dragged her tongue over the wound on his neck. TeklĂłmenes nearly recoiled, every muscle in his body screaming at him to run, but he forced himself to stay still. Even so, she felt the tension coiling through him.
"Donât be afraid, pretty thing," she whispered. "You wonât suffer⊠as long as you behave. Be good, and I promise Iâll be kind to you."
The violins swelled, rising toward their peak. Step by step, turn by turn, they drifted closer to the great window, to the only exit. Moonlight bathed them like a spotlight, the luminous disk hanging so vast and near that TeklĂłmenes felt he could reach it if he only leapt.
It was now or never.
The music ended. Lady Winterâs hold loosened for the briefest instant and TeklĂłmenes took the chance. He shoved her back with all his strength, spread his wings, and launched himself into the air. He didnât dare look behind him. He flew straight toward the moon, toward freedom.
He crossed the threshold⊠and slammed into something solid.
The impact stole the breath from his lungs. Stunned, he crashed to the ground. Blinking through the haze, he lifted his gaze and for the first time noticed it: a thin, nearly invisible film stretched across the window.
A magical barrier.
"Didnât you know?" Lady Winterâs voice drifted behind him. Even without turning, he could picture the smile on her face, the mockery in her gaze. "Centuries give a vampire time to learn many things. I chose⊠magic."
An unseen force seized him, lifting him effortlessly into the air. He struggled and thrashed, but it was useless. He was dragged back and dropped at her feet.
"No one who is not a vampire leaves this castle without my permission," she explained calmly.
TeklĂłmenes felt something inside his chest crack. No⊠no, it canât be⊠His breath faltered, his body trembling uncontrollably. She smiled down at him.
"Perhaps Iâve been too lenient with you, beautiful creature. But an attempt like that⊠deserves punishment."
Before he could react, the vampires descended on him.
"Noâlet me go!"
"I told you I would treat you well," Lady Winter said, her tone turning severe. "Only if you behave. Defiance is an insultâto me, to the affection I offer you. If my company displeases you so much⊠perhaps time with them will teach you gratitude."
Faces twisted by gluttony and malice surrounded him, red gleaming eyes, long sharp fangs.
"Enjoy him," Lady Winter added, stepping back toward her throne. "Just donât kill him."
"NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO!"
"Someone shut him up already!"
The vampiresâ sharp nails dug like thorns into TeklĂłmenesâ flesh, pinning him hard against the freezing, polished stone floor. A hand forced cloth into his mouth, choking off his screams, reducing them to muffled, desperate whimpers. Hands seized his wings, his arms, his legs, exposing his skin, his veins.
And then, like a thread snapping after too much strain, the bites came.
Dozens of fangs sank into him everywhereâhis chest, his limbs, his wings. Pain exploded, devouring everything in its wake. It drowned fear, smothered hope, erased the instinct to fight, until nothing remained but agony. The copper stench of blood filled his senses as life was dragged from his body. His own muffled cries faded beneath the thunder of blood pounding in his ears, beneath the creeping, freezing numbness spreading through his limbs as though they were being torn away piece by piece.
Through blurred, tear-filled vision, he saw Lady Winter upon her throne, watching the spectacle with open delight. At some point, Silasâs face appeared above himâdistant, fleetingâbefore another set of fangs sank into his shoulder.
"Easy," Silasâs voice echoed faintly in his mind, "Iâll help you stop feeling the pain."
Again, a hand closed around his throat, tightening.
I absolutely love @whumpthusiastâs series Karmaâs Bitch. Top-notch pet whump and whumper-turned-whumpee, with a kickass female whumper⊠exactly the role model I needed as a child :)
Hereâs a scene from chapter 15, shortly after Jake gets a cookie. Timelapse below the cut.
"take me instead" but it's not working and, desperately, it turns into, "take me as well!", fine if you're going to take them then don't take them Alone, let me go with them, i will go with them, take me as well take me as well take me as well
Thanks to @whumperofworlds for the idea!!! This was super fun to write! More of my Final Fantasy ocs!
CW: Kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, bound and gagged, hostage situation, fantasy typical violence.
Pravoka was an enormous townâsprawling, opulent, and alive with motion. Tall, elegant stone buildings rose along labyrinthine cobblestone streets. Long canals of crystal-clear water cut through the town like veins, reflecting the white walls and red-tiled roofs of grand houses that lined their banks. The entire town was enclosed by sturdy walls, and to the south stretched the busy port, where hundreds arrived day after day to trade goods or sail toward distant lands across the Aldeo Sea.
However, when the team of adventurersâJasper, Pyrite, Selenite, and Cinnabarâarrived after their long journey from the west, they were met with bad news and dread.
âWeâve been invaded by pirates!â a merchant cried out the moment they crossed the gates. âBikke and his men have been tormenting Pravoka for months, extorting merchants, controlling who enters and leaves the port, terrorizing the people⊠This place isnât what it used to be. You should leave before Bikke finds you!â
The adventurers exchanged glances.
âWell, thanks for the warning!â Jasper said lightly, already stepping deeper into the town without hesitation.
âWait!â Pyrite snapped, grabbing his leader by the arm and yanking him back. âDid you not hear a word of that? This place is infested with pirates.â
âSo what?â Jasper shrugged, unfazed. âItâs not much worse than sleeping in the forest surrounded by monsters. If they mess with us, weâll just kick their asses and thatâs it.â
Pyrite clenched his jaw, irritation flashing across his face at his leaderâs naivety..
âIf theyâre anything like I think they are, they wonât hesitate to kill you just to strip you of your armor, your weapons and all your belongings. Bandits like that donât follow rules. They donât fear consequences. Theyâre danger and death, nothing more.â
âWeâve faced worse,â Jasper shot back with a grin, confidence bordering on recklessness. âIf we could defeat a knight like Garland, I think we can handle a handful of pirates.â
âYeah!â Selenite chimed in. âAnd if this townâs suffering because itâs invaded by pirates, then it needs help. Shouldnât we at least try to do something?â
Unease coiled tighter in Pyriteâs chest. Distressed by the selfless yet risky stance of his companions, he turned to the only other member who usually showed a shred of common sense.
âCinnabar,â he said, voice lower and more urgent. âWhat do you think? Should we stay?â
The young red mage paused, considering for a moment before answering with quiet honesty.
âIâd give anything to sleep at least one night in a room with a real bed and hot water instead⊠of the forest.â
Jasper clapped his hands together.
âThen itâs settled!â he announced. âWeâll stay in Pravoka at least one night.â
And just like that, the decision was made, so the group began their search for the nearest inn, and if possible, a cheap one too.
As they walked through narrow alleys and twisting streets, a desperate argument reached their ears from some blocks ahead.
âI-itâs all I have!â a woman sobbed. âSales have been terrible this week⊠more and more people keep leaving the townâŠâ
âAnd thatâs our problem how?â came a male sneering voice, high-pitched and cruel. âYouâve got until tomorrow to pay what you owe Captain Bikke⊠or youâll be paying in other ways.â
âNoâplease!â
Before anyone could stop him, Jasper veered off and charged straight into the alley from which the screams came. There, two men stood over a young woman, cornering her.
âHey, clowns,â the warrior called out, voice ringing with challenge. âLeave her alone.â
The thugs turned toward the newly arrived group, their expressions twisting into mocking amusement.
âWell, well,â one sneered, cracking his knuckles. âWhatâve we got here? A bunch of landlubbers? Need us to teach you your place?â
âIf we beat you,â Jasper replied, stepping forward, âyou leave her alone. Deal?â
The two thugs exchanged complicit grins.
âSure,â one said. âBut I donât think you rookies canââ
Jasperâs fist slammed into his jaw mid-sentence, cutting him off with a sickening crack. The man staggered backward, dazed. He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting blood. He spat, then roared and swung wildly, only for Jasper to slip aside and drive a second blow deep into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.
âDamn you!â the second thug snarled. Seeing his partner falter, he lunged from behind to attack Jasperâbut before he could land a hit, Pyrite spun sharply, his heel crashing into the manâs side. The impact sent him sprawling across the damp cobblestones.
Within seconds, both attackers lay groaning on the ground.
âWe won!â the warrior beamed, turning toward his thief companion with a hand raised for a high five, but he was met only with a cold, disapproving stare while Pyrite shook his head.
âCaptain Bikke will hear about this!â one of the thugs spat as they scrambled to their feet. Then both fled, disappearing down the alley.
âThank you for helping me⊠truly,â the young woman said as she approached them. âBut you need to be careful. Captain Bikke isnât just some thug, heâs a very dangerous man. If he sets his sights on you⊠you wonât be safe.â
âThanks for the warning,â Jasper replied kindly. âBy any chance do you happen to know a good inn nearby? Something nice and cheap where we can spend the night?â
Following the womanâs directions, the group soon found a large inn nestled along one of the main streets. They were assigned separate rooms, and after a simple meal in the dining hall, each retreated to rest, exhaustion finally catching up with them.Â
None of them noticed the figures watching from outside. Through the darkened windows, hidden in shadow, eyes lingered patient and filled with malice.
That night, Pyrite dreamed of his fatherâs death.
It was a recurring nightmare, one that rarely changed: his father setting out to search for him after yet another one of his many nightly escapades. A bandit emerging from the shadows, intent on robbery. His father, too distracted, too worried and focused on finding his son to notice the danger closing in. The blade flashing. The bandit, stabbing him to death. Pyrite watching it all unfold from a block awayâclose enough to see, too far to stop it.
But this time, something was different. In this version of the dream, the man who killed his father wore the garb of a pirate. The outcome, however, remained the same.
Pyrite jolted awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air, his body trembling. It had been a long time since that nightmare had come to haunt him, not since he had begun traveling with the others. The return of it now could only mean one thing: something was wrong. His mind was restless and unsettled. The tension in Pravoka, the encounter with those thugs earlier⊠it had burrowed deeper into him than he wanted to admit.
I need to convince Jasper to leave tomorrow, he thought.
Shivering, he noticed the room felt far colder than he remembered. He pulled the thin sheet around himself and turned, pressing his back toward the wall for some semblance of comfort.
That was when he saw them. Two figures stood in the middle of his room.
The window hung wide open, letting in the night air and pale moonlight that spilled across the floor, just enough to reveal the identity of the intruders.
Recognition struck instantly: they were the same two thugs from earlier.
One held a large burlap sack, the rough fabric hanging loosely from his grip. The other had coils of rope slung at his side. Their intentions were not too difficult to imagine.
Fuck, thought Pyrite.
He moved, springing from the bed as if propelled by a trap, feet barely touching the floor as he lunged toward the door.
âCINNABAR!â he shouted as he called for the lightest sleeper among the team. âCIâ!â
A heavy hand clamped over his mouth and nose, smothering the rest of his cry. A damp cloth pressed hard against his face, its sharp scent burning his lungs. At the same time, another pair of arms seized his legs, wrenching him off the ground.
Panic surged through him. Pyrite fought with everything he had, kicking wildly, twisting, forcing himself not to breatheâbut his strength began to fail him faster than he expected. His chest burned. His body betrayed him. A desperate gasp slipped through his lips, and with it came the drug. The world tilted. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. His limbs grew heavy and unresponsive, his struggles weakening into useless jerks.
No⊠noâŠ
His thoughts slipped. He barely registered the moment they laid him back onto the bed.
And then nothing.
He came to with a violent gasp as a bucket of freezing water was thrown across his face. Pyrite jerked awake, choking, his body convulsing as he sucked in air. Every muscle tensed at once. He was lying on a hard wooden surface. The smell of salt and alcohol was intense, seeping into his nostrils. Disoriented, he tried to push himself up, but his body wouldnât obey. His wrists were bound tightly behind his back and his ankles were tied just as firmly, leaving him unable to do more than roll weakly onto his side.
A hand grabbed his damp hair, dragging his head back. His vision swam before slowly focusing and he found himself face to face with an unfamiliar face.
A man loomed over him.
Large-nosed. Skin weathered and darkened by the sun. A long black beard framing a mouth stretched into a grin that revealed yellowed teeth. An eyepatch covered his left eye. A wide hat cast a shadow over his face, and a blue coat hung from his broad shoulders.
Pyrite didnât need an introduction, he already knew who this one must be. And that realization made something heavy settle deep in his chest.
âI am Captain Bikke,â the man said. His grin widened. âAnd you, boy⊠youâre going to be my new pet.â
đĄïžđ°đȘâĄ
Jasper, Selenite, and Cinnabar gathered in the innâs dining hall to eat breakfast.
âWhereâs Pyrite?â Jasper asked, scanning the room without finding any sign of his friend.
âMaybe he overslept,â Cinnabar suggested. âIâll go check his room.â
The red mage headed upstairs, leaving the warrior and the white mage behind. They had barely begun eating when, less than five minutes later, Cinnabar returnedâhis face pale and his scarlet eyes wide with fear.
âHeâs gone.â
The words struck like a blow. All three rushed upstairs and burst into the thiefâs room. What they found was an unsettling scene.
The window stood wide open, curtains shifting faintly in the morning breeze. The sheets lay crumpled on the floor, as if torn away in a struggle. Pyriteâs belongings were still neatly placed in the corner, untouched and abandoned. And on the bed⊠His earring. A lock of blue hair. And a scrap of paper, stained with hurried ink.
âGet out of Pravoka. Captain Bikkeâs town.â
âOh noâŠâ Selenite whispered, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the message, horror dawning in her wide eyes. âPyrite⊠the pirates took himâŠâ
Jasper let out a short, breathless laugh.
âWhy are you laughing?!â Cinnabar snapped, turning on him.
âSorry,â Jasper muttered quickly. âItâs justâPyrite and pirates, it rhymes, andâyeah. Bad timing.â He rubbed the back of his neck, then forced himself to straighten, his expression hardening. âWeâre going to get him back from those bastards.â
The trio left the inn at once, urgency driving every step. The warning had been clearâleave Pravokaâbut now their friend had been taken. There was no chance they would walk away. Not now.
The first thing they did was begin to ask discreetly among the townâs inhabitants where Captain Bikkeâs hideout was, the most likely place where they were holding the thief captive.
âBikke doesnât show himself much,â a local muttered. âHe stays on his ship most of the time. Itâs anchored in the western canal.â
âThen thatâs where weâre going,â said Jasper, beginning to walk in that direction without hesitation.
âAnd what?â Cinnabar protested, hurrying after him. âWeâll just walk in like we own the place, without a plan?â
Jasper stopped and turned toward his youngest companion. For once, there was no trace of his usual easy grin. No carefree confidence.
âPyrite was kidnapped because of me,â he said, voice low. âI chose to stay here, knowing the risks. He tried to warn me... and I didnât listen.â His jaw tightened. âIâm not letting him pay the price for that. If something happens to him⊠then what kind of warrior am I? What kind of friend?âÂ
He turned away again, guilt weighing and stirring inside him âbut a hand caught at his armor, stopping him. When he looked back Selenite and Cinnabar stood there, their expressions just as stricken.
âItâs not just you,â Selenite said softly, her eyes filled with tears. âWe wanted to stay too. We agreed. And now⊠PyriteâŠâ
Cinnabar hesitated, his voice smaller and trembling.
âI think⊠I think I heard him last night,â he admitted. âI heard someone shout my name. I thought I was dreaming. I didnât check. If I had just gone to look, maybe he wouldnât haveâŠâ
âHey,â Jasperâs voice softened. He stepped closer, placing a hand on each of the mageâs shoulders. âWeâre going to save him. And when we do⊠weâll apologize properly. All of us.â
The other two nodded, swallowing their guilt and letting it harden into resolve.
âGood,â Jasper added, his tone sharpening again as he looked ahead. âThen get your camouflage spells ready.â A faint, grim smile crossed his face. âBecause weâre about to board a ship full of pirates⊠and cause some trouble.â
đĄïžđ°đȘâĄ
Pyrite was tired. At this point, that was the only word that fit. Exhaustion clung to him, sinking deep into his bones. His hair still reeked of the alcohol the pirates had dumped over him, the stench sharp and nauseating. His ribs throbbed with every shallow inhale, his back aching from the relentless beating they had given him while their laughter rang out against the wooden walls, loud and merciless. He hadnât eaten since the previous night, and now his stomach twisted painfully, gnawing at him, blending with the rest of the pain spreading through his body.
From what he had gathered about Bikke so far, the man wasnât some grand embodiment of evil. He was worse in a simpler, more pathetic wayâan arrogant brute. A bully drunk on power. Surrounded by a crew that obeyed him without question, Bikke had convinced himself he was untouchable, that the world itself bent to his will and that everyone else existed only to be used, broken, or owned.
For hours, Pyrite had been forced to endure the captainâs presence, his booming voice, his shrill laughter, the endless stream of taunts. Bikke mocked him openly, bragged about how easily he had been captured, calling him weak. He insisted that if Pyriteâs friends dared to show themselves instead of fleeing like cowards, they would be crushed, slaughtered without effort.
Eventually, Bikke and his men grew bored of their new prisoner. They left him locked in a cramped brig below deck, tossed aside when he was too injured to be entertaining. The pirates scattered, returning to whatever pirate misdeeds passed for their daily routineâstealing, drinking, neglecting their teeth, or whatever it was men like them did when they werenât busy hurting someone.
Being left alone didnât feel safe, but it was a break, and Pyrite was going to use it. The pirates had bound his wrists and ankles tightly, but they hadnât restrained his fingers. Slowly and carefully, he began working at the knots, nails scraping against coarse fibers, testing for weakness, loosening them bit by bit. It would take time, but he trusted his manual dexterity to make it possible.
He was in the middle of breaking free when he suddenly heard distant shouting coming from above. A crash. The clank of metal striking metal. His breath caught as the sounds of fighting grew louder. Then, hurried footsteps approached and two pirates appeared at the bars of his cell.
âYour little friends are here to see you,â one of them sneered, unlocking the door.
âWhat?â
The word barely left his mouth before a rough hand seized his jaw, fingers digging painfully into his cheeks, forcing his mouth open. A cloth was shoved between his teeth, the thick knot pressing harshly against his tongue before being tied tight behind his head.
âAghâ! Mmph!â
He struggled immediately but it was useless. The pirates hauled him up by the arms, his weakened body offering little resistance, and began dragging him up the stairs. Each step sent jolts of pain through his ribs, each breath burned. When they reached the deck, chaos exploded around himâshouts, steel clashing, boots pounding against wood. And voices he knew.
âPyrite!â
His heart lurched.
Jasper. Selenite. Cinnabar.
They were there. Weapons drawn, surrounded by fallen pirates sprawled across the deck, while others closed in around them, forming a circle.
In that moment, Pyrite couldnât help but feel overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Relief hit him first. They came for me. But it was quickly swallowed by fear. They were outnumbered. They were in danger. If anything happened to them⊠if they got hurt because of him⊠he wouldnât survive that.
âRelease him!â Jasper demanded, his voice fierce and unwavering. He stood a few paces away, sword raised, its tip pointed directly at Bikke. The captain stood calmly a few meters ahead, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed, as if he couldnât be touched.
Pyriteâs captors forced him down onto his knees beside the man, before they drew their weapons and moved to join the others, tightening the circle around the intrusive adventurers.
âI must admit, I didnât expect you to have the courage to face me.â Bikke spoke. His grin widened. âSince you were foolish enough to ignore my advice and remain in my town, I think Iâll reward you.â
He gestured lazily toward Pyrite.
âYou can die in front of your little friend here.â
Then, without even raising his voice:
âBoys. Finish them.â
âMmmph!â
Seeing his friends fight for their lives, all to save him, Pyrite knew he had to do something. Taking advantage of the fact that Bikke was distracted enjoying the fight and that no one else was watching him, he set himself again on freeing himself from his restraints.
Pyriteâs muffled cry tore from his throat as the fight surged again, more violent than before. His friends had come to search for him, they were risking their lives for him.
Just like dad.
No. No, he couldnât just watch this happen again.
Gritting his teeth against the gag, Pyrite forced himself to move. Bikkeâs attention was fixed entirely on the fight, his back partially turned, his arrogance blinding him. Good, no one was watching.
Ignoring the pain screaming through his body, Pyrite went back to work on the ropes, fingers fumbling but determined, pulling, twisting, loosening the knot little by little. He just needed one chance.
Meanwhile, Jasper, Selenite, and Cinnabar fought against a swarm of pirates who outnumbered them three to one. The warrior attacked with his sword, striking hard and fast, forcing back anyone reckless enough to stand in his way. The red mage unleashed bursts of lightning and waves of sleep magic, dropping enemies where they stood, while the white mage remained just behind them, gripping her hammer tightly and striking down any opponent that got too close.
But the pirates didnât stay down.
Those who werenât knocked unconscious staggered back to their feet, returning to the fight with renewed aggression. Though the adventurers were far more skilled, the sheer number of enemies barely seemed to decrease. Exhaustion began to creep in, their movements slowed, their breathing grew heavier, muscles burned from constant strain, and the effort of staying alert on all sides began to wear at their focus.
They couldnât keep this up forever, they all knew it.
And thenâŠ
âHalt!â
Bikkeâs voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Whether they wanted to or not, every person on the deck froze and all eyes turned toward the captain. Bikke stood rigid, his shoulders tense, his expression no longer arrogant but stricken with fear. Behind him stood Pyrite, free. One arm hooked around the captainâs neck, a dagger pressed tight against his throat. In his other hand, a second blade hovered dangerously between Bikkeâs ribs, angled just enough that the slightest push would sink it deep.
At some point during the fight, Pyrite had freed himself and now he had turned the tide.
âDrop your weapons,â he said, his voice low and threatening. âOr I kill him.â
There was a moment of silence in which no one moved.
âLower them!â Bikke barked, panic cracking through his voice.
The pirates obeyed immediately. One by one, weapons clattered against the deck, surrendering. But Pyrite didnât lower his blades.
âYou hurt me. You hurt my friends,â he said quietly, dangerous. âWhatâs stopping me from ending you right here, of ridding this town of pest like you?â
âIâIâll change!â Bikke stammered, his bravado collapsing completely. âIâll be better! Weâll help the townâPravoka, weâll help it! We wonât hurt anyone again, I swear! In fact, t-to prove my sincerity and goodwill, Iâll give you my biggest ship! The best one I have!â
The offer hung in the air, desperate. The adventurers exchanged glances before all eyes settled on Jasper.
ââŠFine,â the leader said. âBut if we hear youâre causing trouble againâŠâ His grip on his sword tightened on the hilt. âWe wonât show mercy next time.â
âO-of course! Of course!â
With the offer accepted, Pyrite pulled the blade away from Bikkeâs throat. The pirates scrambled, retreating and dragging their captain with them as they fled the ship in hurried disarray. Only once they were gone, Jasper, Selenite, and Cinnabar rushed toward their friend all at once.
âPyrite! Are you okay?!â
âI told you soâŠâ the thief muttered weakly, his legs trembling beneath him. âI told you it was⊠a bad⊠ideaâŠâ
A wave of weakness washed over him. His knees gave way, and he would have hit the deck hard if Jasper hadnât lunged forward, catching him and lowering him carefully to the ground.
âEasy, easy,â Jasper said, panic creeping into his voice as he took in the state of him. Bruises darkened Pyriteâs skin. His clothes were stained, his hair still damp and reeking faintly. Red marks circled his wrists where the ropes had bitten in. âAre you hurt?â Jasper asked, his voice tight.
Pyrite tried to draw a reassuring smile.
âWell⊠now that the adrenalineâs gone⊠I feel like Iâve been crushed⊠everything hurts⊠I think I mightâve cracked a ribâŠâ
Selenite dropped to her knees beside him immediately, hands already glowing with soft healing light. Warmth spread through him, dulling the sharpest edges of pain. Once he was stable enough to move, the group made their way back toward the inn together. No one spoke at first, but then the apologies came, sincere and heavy with guilt. At first, Pyrite made a show of brushing them off, rolling his eyes, muttering complaints, dragging it out just enough to make them squirm. But eventually, he relented, because he understood.
He knew there would be times when not everyone would always agree, and the idea of putting his life or that of his friends at risk was a scenario he always sought to avoid at all costs; however, he wasnât going to deny that knowing his friends had come to rescue him, even with the risks that entailed, made him feel deeply grateful.
With them by his side, Pyrite felt that anything was possible.
Any D&D-style ideas for torturing my children are welcome. Thanks for reading!!!
Thanks to @whumperofworlds I had the opportunity to start playing Final Fantasy 1, so here's a story with the OCs I created in the game. I think there's a lot of potential here and I couldn't resist the inspiration! (You don't need to know anything about the game to enjoy the story).
CW: Multiple whumpees, lady whumpee, bound and gagged, used as bait, hostage situation, canon villain death.
The Chaos Shrine was a massive, crumbling stone fortress, one that no one could quite explain how it was still standing after so many years of abandonment. Its open gate yawned like a gaping maw, threatening to swallow whole and never return anyone who dared venture into its labyrinth of darkness. A dense mist clung perpetually to its towering spires, and the air grew heavier and colder the closer one got.
The entire place was a red flag visible from miles away. No one in the Kingdom of Cornelia would dare set foot anywhere near it.
And yet, that was exactly where Jasperâs teamâJasper, Pyrite, Selenite, and Cinnabarâwas headed.
âDonât worry, Your Majesty. Weâll save the princess and bring her back safe and sound!â
Jasper walked at the front, as always, leading the group toward the looming stone structure. After several minutes of fighting their way through goblins and wild wolves in the forest, they had finally reached the place where they hoped to find Princess Saraâand where they would undoubtedly face Garland, the dangerous rogue knight who had kidnapped her.
âAlright, team,â Jasper said, turning to them with his hands on his hips. âThis is our first real important mission: rescuing the princess. If we succeed, the king promised to rebuild the northern bridge, and weâll be able to continue our journey.â
âAnd hopefully heâll pay us well, too,â Pyrite added. The thief twirled his knife as a sly grin spread across his lips.
âI still donât get why we have to do this,â Cinnabar muttered under his breath. His wide-brimmed red hat hid his face, but everyone could picture the eye-roll and pouting. âItâs not like weâre even from this kingdom or anything. We were just passing throughâŠâ
âHow can you say that, Cinnabar?â Jasper asked, not in a scolding tone, just genuinely baffled. He stepped closer to the young red mage with an almost comically pitiful puppy-eyes expression that clashed with his tall, broad frame. âWeâre here to help people, and that princess needs us!â
âJasperâs right!â Selenite, the small white mage, chimed in. âWe canât just keep going, knowing a poor innocent princess is suffering unjustly.â
Faced with the pleading eyes of the warrior and the white mage, Cinnabar let out a long, resigned sigh.
âFine,â he said. âBut only because itâs obvious no one in that useless kingdom can do it, and Iâm not letting the princess suffer because of that.â
Jasper and Selenite celebrated with a high-five, while Pyrite watched the group with a quiet, fond smile.
âAlright, letâs go in.â
The Chaos Shrine turned out to be much larger than they had imagined. It was dark and suffocating. The ghostly torches lining the halls barely cut through the fog and did nothing to warm freezing air. Visibility was limited to just a few steps ahead.
Finding the princess was going to be an undoubtedly difficult task, especially with the constant and unwarned monster ambushes forcing them to fight or flee just to survive. These creatures were far stronger and more aggressive than the ones in the forest, and it didnât take long before the group was exhausted.
âLetâs take a break and set up camp,â Pyrite said after they narrowly escaped a pack of wargs. âStart a fire and set up the tent. Iâll take first watch.â
âB-but we havenât found the princess yet!â Jasper protested.
Pyrite draped an arm around the warriorâs shoulders and gently pulled him aside. When he spoke his voice was calm, but firm, carrying that tone that reminded everyone that, even if he wasnât the leader, he was still the oldest in the group. Â
âJas, I know you want to save the princess and complete our first big mission as soon as possible. I do too. But this place is worse than we expected. The others are exhausted and hurt from running and fighting, and need to recover their mana. I know you might still have energy left to fightâyouâre the toughest of all of usâbut they donât. And we canât afford to lose our mages, our only healers.â
Even though it wasnât a scolding, Jasper couldnât help to look down, ashamed.
They camped, and the next day they continued their search. Just like before, they found no sign of the princessâonly more monsters, more battles and more exhaustion. Their supplies and potions begin running low. No one said it out loud, but the team was growing desperate.
By the third day, the tension was impossible to ignore.
Anxiety kept Jasper from sleeping. Eventually, he gave up and got up. Pyrite stood nearby, his back to him, keeping watch.
âHey,â the warrior said softly so as not to wake the mages, sitting down beside the thief.
âHey,â the other replied without turning around. Dark circles framed his eyes, and in his hands he held a piece of wood they had found lying around, shaping it into a stake with his knife.
They sat in silence for a while.
âWeâre not getting anywhere,â Pyrite said at last. âI think we should go back to town and come up with a better plan.â
Jasper wanted to argue. To say they were close, that he could feel it, that his gut told him so. But looking at Pyrite, at how tired he was⊠he stopped himself. He knew Selenite and Cinnabar were just as worn out. He didnât want his friends to suffer, but he also didnât want to delay the mission any longer. Princess Sara was still out there, in danger.
Making a risky decision, he stood up.
âIâm⊠going to step out and stretch my legs for a bit,â he said.
Pyrite glanced at him. âThen why are you taking your sword?â
âIn case of monsters. Obviously,â Jasper said, far too quickly. People said he was a terrible liar, and he knew it. Lying always made him nervous. âIâll just⊠take a quick look around. I know my way back, donât worry.â
The thiefâs expression of disbelief needed no words, but after a few seconds, he let out a tired sigh.
âAlright. Donât go too far.â
Jasper gave him a determined smile and nodded before leaving the small stone room they had set up as their camp.
The shrine was silent. The warrior gripped the hilt of his weapon tightly, all his senses on high alert. Every flutter, every breath, every foreign footstep echoing through the corridors made his hair stand on endâbut he kept moving forward nonetheless. If he could find Princess Sara, he could spare his team the trouble and they could all return to town sooner. They had already explored most of the shrine, anyway, so what was the harm in checking the rest?
He walked for several minutes until he found a large double metal door he had never seen before. Unlike the others they had encountered, this one was unlocked.
Inside was a vast hall filled with broken stone columns. Bats shrieked from the beams int the ceiling. At the center stood a stone altar, upon which rested a dark crystal sphere. However, what truly caught his attention were the quiet sobs coming from behind it.
Without a second thought, Jasper moved toward the sound, discovering a girl with long pink hair, her dress dusty and torn at the edges. She was tied up, and a cloth gag covered her mouth. When she saw him, she stopped crying and jolted in surprise.
âHey, itâs okay,â Jasper said gently, giving her the kindest smile he could manage. âYour father sent us to save you. Are you Princess Sara?â
A bit calmer now, the girl nodded, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes.
âAlright, okay, Iâm going to get you out of here.â
Jasper had just begun cutting the rope binding the princessâs ankles when suddenly she started shouting, staring at him with urgent eyes.
âMmmnph! Mmmnph!â
âItâs okay, Iâve got it, Iâm working on itâ he said. âItâs justâthereâs a lot of rope here, and itâs not that easy to cutâŠâ
She kept shouting and shook her head frantically. Confused, Jasper pulled the gag from her mouth.
âWatch out, behind you!â she cried.
A chill ran down his spine as the warrior turned around.
And then something hard slammed into the side of his head.
The world spun and he hit the ground hard, dazed. Something warm and metallic scent began trickling from his temple. Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the stone chamber as they approached.
âWell, what do we have here?â a deep male voice said. âOne of the kingâs little pets?â
Jasper tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees, but a second blow knocked him flat against the ground again.
âLooks like Iâm going to have some fun with you.â
A third strike stole his consciousness completely.
Jasper woke to a pounding headache. Dried blood clung to one side of his face, while his other cheek lay pressed against the cold stone floor. He tried to push himself up, but his limbs refused to cooperate. It didnât take long to realize whyâthick ropes were wound tightly around his torso and legs, binding his ankles and pinning his wrists behind his back. His armor was gone, and his sword was nowhere in sight.
A muffled, frightened sound made him turn his head to the right. There, not far from him, he spotted the princess, bound and gagged again. When she saw he was awake, the panic in her eyes softened, if only a little.
âSo this is what the king sends instead of meeting my demands?â
The voice echoed through the chamber, accompanied by the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps. A tall figure soon emerged from the shadows, clad in gleaming silver armor. His face was concealed behind a horned helmet and a wide purple cape draped over his shoulders.
Garland.
The villain stopped in front of Jasper, looming over him with quiet menace.
âHow many others came with you?â he asked.
The young warriorâs heart began to race. He strained against the ropes, but they held fast. If he could just reach the dagger hidden in his boot, maybe he could escape and warn the othersâbut not like this. Not now. He wouldnât risk putting them in greater danger than he already had.
âI came alone,â he said.
Unfortunately, Jasper had never been a convincing liar. Garland simply clicked his tongue.
âLet me guess,â he went on. âThere are four of you⊠and at least one is a mage, isnât that right?â
âNo,â Jasper answered, too quickly.
A low laugh rumbled from deep within the manâs chest.
âWell, since the king doesnât seem to care enough about his daughter to meet my demands or come himself, perhaps having you here will encourage your little group to⊠persuade the king on my behalf.â
Even with his face hidden, the malice in Garlandâs grin was unmistakable in his voice.
âThey would never do that!â Jasper shouted, struggling again his restrains with renewed force.
Garland crouched beside him, seizing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back until their faces were inches apart.
âOh, I think they will,â he said mockingly. âNow then⊠would you be so kind as to scream for me?â
âWhat? Like this? AAAAHHHâAKH!â
A cloth was shoved roughly into Jasperâs mouth. Before he could had the chance to spit it out, a thick strip of fabric was pressed over his lips and tied tight behind his neck.
âNow⊠would you care to try that again?â
âMmmnph!â
His cries were reduced to helpless, muffled sounds behind the gag. Garland let out a satisfied chuckle.
âGood. Now all that remains is to wait for your friends to walk straight into my trap. Iâll make sure to ease their pathâI wouldnât want them worrying too much about you just yet.â
Jasperâs stomach dropped. No⊠had he just led his team into even greater danger? Guilt quickly surged through him, rising like a tide he couldnât hold back. Tears stung his eyes. Noâhe couldnât let that happen. They couldnât allow this wicked villain, this monster, to manipulate them into doing his bidding. The smartest course would be exactly what Pyrite had said: return to town, speak with the king, and gather reinforcements. Together, they might stand a chance of defeating this traitor and saving the princess.
As for him⊠he had failed. As an adventurer. As a leader. His team didnât deserve to suffer for his mistakes. As long as they remained safe⊠then whatever happened to him didnât matter.
After all⊠this was his fault.
đĄïžđ°đȘâĄ
Pyrite knew something was wrong.
Call it experience, a gut feeling, or simply common senseâthe fact that Jasper still hadnât returned was a bad sign. He doubted he had gotten lost, so the only real possibilities were that a monster had attacked him and he was injured⊠or that he was dead, left to rot somewhere in a dark corridor. He didnât like either option, but he desperately hoped it wasnât the latter.
âWe have to go look for him,â he said firmly.
âAnd how exactly are we supposed to find him?â Cinnabar asked, crossing his arms. âThis place is enormous. We havenât even managed to find the princess yet.â
Pyrite paused to think for a moment. They werenât in any condition to fight without their warrior, but he also couldnât bring himself to abandon his leader and friend.
âWe search for a while. No fighting monsters, we run if we see any. If we donât find him within half an hour, we leave and head back to Cornelia to resupply and get reinforcements. Itâs what Jasper would want.â
Because heâs alive. I know he is, he thought.
Selenite looked utterly distressed. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she gripped her staff far too tightly. Cinnabar kept his usual neutral expression, but Pyrite knew him well enough to notice the slight twitch of his left eyebrowâit meant he was anxious, maybe even scared. And honestly, he couldnât blame them. He felt the same way.
âAlright. Letâs move.â
They stepped out of the small stone chamber, and after only a few meters, they noticed something strange. Since entering the Chaos Shrine, the torches had always burned with a pale, ghostly yellow flame, but now some of them flickered with a deep, unnatural purple fire, as if deliberately guiding them in a specific direction.
âI donât like this,â Cinnabar muttered.
Pyrite didnât like it either, but it was the only lead they had.
âLetâs follow them.â
The trio moved along the path marked by the purple torches until they reached an area they had never explored before. There, embedded in the wall, stood a pair of massive metal double doors. Without hesitation, they pushed them open.
Beyond them lay a vast chamber swallowed almost entirely by darkness. The only thing clearly visible was a tall figure clad in intricate metal armor, a horned helmet resting atop his head, and a cape that matched the color of the flames.
âSo⊠we finally meet, Warriors of Light.â
His voice dripped with mockery. Pyrite felt his blood run cold.
âGarlandâŠâ he murmured under his breath.
The villain seemed to hear him, because he let out a low, amused laugh.
âI hear youâve been searching for something. Perhaps I found it first?â
Suddenly, the shadows in the room seemed to recede, revealing a wide hall filled with broken stone columns. Farther ahead stood what appeared to be a stone altar, atop which rested a dark crystal sphereâand before it, lying on the ground, were two human figures, both bound and gagged.
The first was a young woman. From her long pink hair and the elegant dress she wore, Pyrite assumed she must be the kidnapped princess. But the secondâŠ
âJasper!â
Seleniteâs worried cry echoed across the chamber. The white mage tried to run toward her friend, but Jasperâs muffled shout stopped her in her tracks.
âMnph!â
Dried blood streaked Jasperâs face. Without his armor, he somehow looked smaller, more vulnerable. His wide, terrified eyes were locked on his friends as he shook his head frantically.
Seleniteâs expression shifted from fear to fury.
âLet them go!â she shouted, pointing her staff at the armored knight.
âI will,â Garland replied confidently, âonce you convince the King of Cornelia to hand over his kingdom.â
So that was the trap.
Pyrite didnât know how Garland had managed to capture Jasper, but that alone proved just how dangerous he truly was. They wouldnât give in to his demands, but neither would he abandon his friend to a madman.
âLetâs have a duel,â the thief said, drawing his sword. âIf you win, weâll convince the king to surrender the kingdom without resistance.â
âMmmph! Mmngh!â
Both the princess and Jasper cried out, struggling desperately as panic filled their expressions.
âA three-against-one fight seems a bit unfair,â Garland said as he unsheathed his own blade.
âYouâll fight me,â Pyrite replied. âOne on one. A fair duel.â
There was a brief, tense silence.
âVery well,â Garland said at last. âI accept.â
In the blink of an eye, Garland lunged forward with a direct thrust aimed at Pyriteâs chest. The thief managed to deflect the strike, and soon their blades were clashing in rapid succession. Selenite tried to seize the opportunity to rush forward and free Jasper, but suddenly a swarm of bats poured from the darkness above and attacked her.
âWatch out!â Cinnabar shouted, firing a bolt of lightning that struck one of the creatures midair.
âThanks!â she called back, fending them off with her staff.
 Meanwhile, Jasper could only watch as his friends were attacked, completely unable to help. He felt so, so useless. All of this had happened because of him!
But he refused to just lie there in despair. Swallowing his tears, he struggled again, trying to reach the knife hidden in his boot. The ropes had rubbed his wrists raw, but he kept twisting and straining, getting nowhere. His frustration only grew.
Then, a soft whimper caught his attention. He turned his head and saw Princess Sara slowly crawling toward him. At first, he didnât understand what she was doing, until she began fumbling around his boot with her hands. Then it clicked. She was trying to help him by reaching the hidden knife.
After a moment, the princess managed to pull out the small dagger. Jasper shifted just enough to grab it between his fingers and began sawing through the ropes as quickly as he could.
Meanwhile, Pyrite continued his duel against the evil knight. The thief was a skilled fighter, but Garland was undeniably formidable, delivering powerful blows that would have been fatal if Pyrite hadnât been agile enough to evade themâor lucky enough to survive. He could hear Selenite and Cinnabar fighting nearby. He wanted to look, to make sure they were safe, but he didnât dare. One moment of distraction could cost him everything.
His arms began to ache, and his breathing grew heavier. He was getting tired, but Garland showed no sign of slowing, pressing the attack with relentless ferocity and giving him no chance to recover. His grip on his sword faltered, and suddenly a heavy strike knocked the weapon from his hands. It clattered loudly against the stone floor as his enemyâs blade leveled straight at his heart. Â
âYouâve lost,â Garland declared.
âHey, you!â
Everyone turned toward the new voice. In front of the altar, now free from their bonds and holding a knife and a sword in their hands, stood Princess Sara and Jasper.
âHey, clown! Why donât you fight me if youâre so eager?â Jasper shouted, stepping forward to place himself between Pyrite and the enemy.
âIf youâre so eager to die,â Garland said coldly, âthen Iâll grant your wish.â
Once again, the clash of steel filled the room, but this time something had clearly changed. Jasper dodged a thrust and drove his blade straight into his enemyâs chest. Blood spilled over the silver armor and dripped onto the floor.
âI-ImpossibleâŠâ Garland stammered, before collapsing to the ground, never to rise again.
Jasper let out a breath he hadnât realized heâd been holding. He staggered backward and would have fallen if Pyrite and the princess hadnât caught him.
âIâve got you, buddy,â the thief said, steadying him.
The bat monsters scattered, and Selenite and Cinnabar rushed to his side.
âJasper!â the white mage cried, throwing her arms around him. âAre you okay?â
âYeah,â he said softly, returning the embrace.
âYou saved me,â Princess Sara said, looking at the four adventurers. âWords will never be enough to thank you.â
âYou helped too, Your Highness,â Jasper replied with a small smile. âWe couldnât have done it without you.â
And so, the Warriors of Light and the princess made their way back together, safe and sound, to the palace.
Any D&D-style ideas for torturing my children are welcome. Thanks for reading!!!
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