Lawrence ate everything the servants put in front of him. It was too much time to cut the meat into smaller pieces. He opted to just shove entire pieces of ham, burgers, or muffins into his mouth. He packed his mouth full, chewed a few times, and swallowed.
The servants brought a tough kind of alien fruit.
“This is a special fruit eaten in the—” Lawrence heard and forgot the name of the alien nation. Lord Gulosus continued, “The skin is tough, but the inner pulp is rich. It is considered a delicacy and a challenge to overcome.”
Lawrence stabbed it with his knife. He punctured the outer skin. He twisted the knife clockwise to make a hole. The knife bent a little bit. Lawrence set it aside. He wedged his thumbs into the hole. Yes, the skin was tough and leathery, like rubber, but the pulp underneath was soft like jello.
Lawrence peeled part of the skin off. It didn’t want to peel. He used his fingernails. Scarlet, pungent, thick juice poured out of the hole. Lawrence licked his finger. It had a metallic taste, maybe a little salty. It was also hot, which he thought was unusual. But it tasted good. Really good.
Lawrence lowered his mouth. He slurped up the running juice. He pressed his lips to the hole and slurped. He got a mouthful of the juice. It was heaven. Better than fruits and vegetables. Better than the meat.
“This piece of fruit is the best part of the meal. Imported all the way from a distant province in the mortal world. A place far to the East known as the Farlands. Unpoetic, if you ask me. Whatever mortal white man who ‘discovered’ it was not the most imaginative of creatures. Still, their cuisine is unmatched. Spicy sauces on plain grains and meats. This fruit is a prize of their warriors. Do you like it?”
“Uh huh,” Lawrence mumbled. He was too far gone in the ecstasy of taste. His stomach bulged. Even with his pants undone, the waistband was too tight. It was hot again. Sweltering. Sweat ran down his back. Lawrence mopped his forehead.
Lord Gulosus slid a sausage-like finger between Lawrence and the fruit. He pushed it away. The fruit rolled across the table to an enormous pumpkin. The pumpkin was a thing of beauty. The top half was gone, the insides scooped out. An edible arrangement of every plant imaginable sat inside. A small scarecrow sat on top, completing the harvest theme with an ear of maize.
Lawrence ignored it. The fruit left a trail of red juice when it rolled. Lawrence ran his finger through some and licked it up.
“Everyone else is full.” The pressure vanished. “Probably best to let a true demon eat this amazing thing. Why don’t you let me help?”
“No,” Lawrence protested. He reached for the fruit. “No—I. I can finish it. I want it. It’s delicious. It’s… delightful.” The word floated out of his mouth on its own. This was what it meant. A food so wonderful one would do anything to have it. At the moment, Lawrence wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and feast.
“Well, go on, then,” the demon sounded approving. Lawrence wondered if he’d passed some sort of test. “But no clothes, mind you. Your pants and boots have nastiness on them. The table must remain clean.”
Lawrence fumbled with the laces of his boots. He kicked them off. He peeled off his socks and pants. He laid them all aside on top of his shirt. After a moment of hesitation—he looked around first. He did not see Lily and Kyri. The food sat in piles six feet on top of the table. Lawrence saw demons up and down the row conversing.
Screw it. When in Rome…. He did away with the rest. He stood on the pale pink flesh-floor of the fortress-giant’s stomach. Saliva and fluids squelched under his feet. The air was a lot more comfortable without anything insulating him. No fans blew. No air circulated. The hot, heavy, humid air just sort of pooled and coagulated around him.
“Lord Gulosus is pleased you have chosen to embrace his traditions,” Lord Gulosus said. “I was an exile from the Gourmand, you know. In my prime. Old money, that House, when they were called Houses. Now there’s all this Corporation nonsense. I joined Thug Swarm because I was tired of politics. Here in this place, my will exists uncontested.”
Lawrence reached across the table. The fruit was too far away.
“Um, my lord? Can you help me? Please.”
The demon’s expression morphed into one of annoyance. “Get it yourself, if you want it.”
Lawrence put one foot on the stool. He levered himself up. The table creaked under him. He looked to his left. He saw other humans had likewise chosen to pursue the fruit, only they didn’t look quite right. Too fat, as if they were heavily pregnant, Lawrence thought. Lawrence put them out of his mind. He focused on the task at hand, namely, getting that runaway fruit.
He crawled across the table. He abandoned decency and dignity. Heck, he was in Hell. He was at a table run by the Gluttons. His parents were gone and his sort-of-acquaintances were either gone or occupied. Heck, for all he knew they were on a table of their own, chasing their own alien fruit. Anyway, right now, Lawrence was alone except for a potential patron. He wanted to enjoy himself once more before reality intruded.
He grasped the fruit in his hands. He had no knives or forks to use, and he didn’t see the need. He shoved his thumbs into the gap. He peeled the rind off using his fingernails.
He pulled off a giant wedge of pulp. It was blood-red. Lawrence opened his mouth. He heard bone cracking. He felt a strange sensation. His jaw opened wider than he ever thought possible.
A small part of his mind told him it was demonic puberty. His heritage, manifesting. Mom had said… what had she said? Claws, right? Maybe a tail? And [Gaping Bite]. The Mouth line of Mutation Skill. Since he did not have Access, it wasn’t [Gaping Bite] of course, but a non-skilled biological variation. Lawrence’s mouth unhinged down, not sideways. His cheeks did not split open. His teeth were not serrated. Instead he had a watered-down biological variation.
A small of him was glad his Skills finally manifested, but it hurt to see them do so now, when his sort-of-friends weren’t there to see it. Maybe it was better they weren’t?
Lawrence bit down on the pulp. It was everything he thought it would be and more. Hot juice ran down his throat. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Better than any food in the world. Delightful. Lawrence ate half the fruit right there.
“Mind if I try it?” Lord Gulosus drew the remaining half across the table and out of Lawrence’s reach.
“Wait.” Lawrence crawled after it.
“So eager,” the demon sighed. “So hungry. A half-demon. Yes, I see it now. I suspected. No mere mortal could be a high-level Faustian without at least a little Corruption. Though it seems yours is only manifesting at this moment. Strange. But not unheard of. Perhaps it is the corruption inherent in my estate?”
Lawrence got his hands on the fruit. The demon let him have it. Lawrence peeled off the remaining skin of the fruit. He chowed down on the wonderful, delightful, pulpy, meaty, bloody….
Abomination committed. Horror Class requirements fulfilled: Consumption of another sentient Horror Class assigned: Savage Skill Assigned Rending Teeth Drawback: The Shakes Partial Access unlocked:
Prowess, Classes, Skills, Stats
Stats unlocked:
Infernal Corruption (COR), Eldritch Corruption (ELD), Sanity (SAN),
Stats assigned:
PWR 8, SKL 8, KNW 18, MNT 18, WIS 8, VIG 8, KI 6, FCE 8, PER 8, AGI 6, LCK 8, SOL 10, COR 50, TAB 500, FTH 8, ELD 10
Infernal Corruption Mutation Skills assigned
Gaping Bite
Eldritch Corruption Mutation Skills assigned
Horror Hunger, Eldritch Organs (mouths)
Horror Hunger
Satiated
Lawrence slowly stopped chewing. A familiar sense of dread wormed through his gut. He felt an immense amount of pressure emanating from the demon. Lawrence realized he sat before the demon. Right where the monster’s plate should go.
He looked up into its wide, catfish mouth. The demon had serrated teeth. Its mouth opened sideways and down. Its cheeks split open, revealed a second set of sharp teeth. Rolls of armored fat protected its organs. It extended long, serrated claws. The demon rested both arms on the table, blocking Lawrence’s escape.
“This is somebody’s body isn’t it?” Lawrence asked.
“Yes.” The demon smiled, but there was only cruelty. Cruelty and an incredible, voracious, cunning hunger. “It is not human. I know not the species. It matters little.”
Lawrence wanted to run. He wanted to look away from that horrible, calculating gaze. But he couldn’t.
“We are the final dish,” Lawrence said more to himself. “I get it now. That’s why you had me disrobe.”
“One of the reasons,” the demon admitted. “I was not lying. Clothing is unbecoming for one of my servants. Just as being too fat to move is a sign of good breeding for my old Company. A Glutton would rather order a thousand slaves than lift a single finger. What is power for if not ordering others to task?”
“All the slaves and servants. They’re just food.”
“Their bellies have expanded much more than biologically capable. It is our Aura.” A hint of pride entered the demon’s voice. “Or rather, my Company’s aura. The Program considers it a Psychic effect. It does no damage, but it causes others to think with their stomachs. It arouses starvation, thus weakening Will, and making others easier to kill or conquer.”
“I figured as much. I should have known right from the outset. ‘Delightful.’ ‘Delight’ is a word for a type of food, isn’t it? Like Turkish Delight.”
“It is also a pun. The Delightful Choir are some of the happiest lost souls you will meet on your journey through Maelstrom. Or would have met. They practice slavery of the mind, you see. All their slaves find joy in servitude. Your friends are headed for a nightmare they will be loathe to leave.”
“And I guess I’m dead.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Nope.” Lawrence looked up into the demon’s terrible face. “I stopped being afraid a long time ago.”
“Good. It is too bad you are food. I could use an heir. You clearly already have one of my Skills: Monstrous Maw. You are smart and powerful; a better [Faustian] than that obsequious worm ‘Caster.’” The demon’s lip curled. “The only thing he can cast is Warding 1, but I am hungry. Before you die, I will allow you one final favor. Because it amuses me.”
“All right then.” Lawrence thought for a moment. “I’d like to fight in the Old Way. The Law of the Duel. I want the spectacle of it.”
“The Law of the Duel?” The demon threw his head back and laughed. Lifting one arm, he pushed over the wall of food. Light and noise flooded the table. The sudden motion of food spilling over caused all the demons present to turn their heads. Lawrence slowly became aware of how the room quieted.
He saw an irate Kyri reclining on a cushion while a muscular slave buried its head between her legs. Next to her sat Lily and the blue lady, both women halfway through a bottle of agony. The rest of the sellclaws sat in a loose circle around tables. Slaves of all colors waited on them hand and food, in many cases serving as furniture or food. Doofy sat at one end of a trough with his mouth open while an army of slaves shoveled food into it.
Lily rose. Lawrence saw alarm cross her face. He was abruptly aware of how naked and exposed he was. They all still had their clothes. Only Lawrence and the slaves wore nothing. Lord Gulosus pounded the table with his fist, in a manner befitting one who wanted attention, but he was just laughing. All remaining noise died. Even the slaves stopped working. Lawrence gulped.
“You who have become food,” the [Lord] said between gasps, “Want to challenge me in the Old Ways? No, [Faustian], I will not accept. You are an outsider. You have no standing here. You agreed to serve me in a delightful manner and serve you shall. I am hungry. Prepare to die.”
Lawrence angled himself toward his clothes. The demon’s arm blocked him. He couldn’t look anywhere but the floor. Fear gnawed him. Oddly, only Lily seemed bothered by his nudity. And the more he glanced in her direction, she seemed less embarrassed than super-afraid. Was she scared of him, or for him?
The other lords laughed along with Lord Gulosus. The lower-ranked demons chuckled, but it was quieter. Lawrence could guess why. In their minds, no doubt he was a rookie who had fallen prey, and now he was enacting one of their favorite techniques to get promoted. Duel your boss, kill him, and take his job.
Lily’s tail split into a pair of legs. She put her pants on. She moved around the great round table in the middle of the room, around which sat a circle of captains. She ran toward him, but she was so far away.
“Kill him,” chorused the other lords. “Kill the human.”
Still laughing, Lord Gulosus levered himself off his bench. He pushed it back from the table. He moved with an ease that did not match his size. Though large, he could move when he wanted. Lawrence knew demons of his former company could move fast when they wanted so they could get back to feasting and being lazy. This would happen fast. He was completely screwed, and he had only himself to blame.
“Any last words, [Faustian]? A battle cry, perhaps?”
Lawrence looked at his hands. A line had appeared across his palms. Pieces of sharp ivory poked from it. Sharp like…like—like teeth. Sharp like teeth. He had teeth on his palms.
“Status,” he whispered. Words and numbers appeared, but most were covered by the kind of nonsense symbols Microsoft Word used when pooping documents out of the printer. Lawrence took those data points to be part of the Program to which he did not have Access. In any case, a few stood out to him.
Eldritch Mutations
Name Description, Effects Level Proficiency Horror Hunger The Starling gains an extreme, never-ending hunger. Gain the Hunger Resource. If Hunger is not regularly Satisfied, gain reduced Resource regeneration. Other negative effects may accumulate. 1 0% Eldritch Organs (mouths) The Starling gains extra, roaming body parts somewhere on their person. Body parts function as expected but may provide other benefits. 1 0% Infernal Mutations Gaping Bite The demon's mouth and jaw open wider. Bite damage increases by 20% per level of this Skill (Physical, Exclusivity: Teeth) 1 0% Skill Consolidation: Rending Teeth + Gaping Bite = Monstrous Maw Bite Damage increases by 70% per level of this Skill (Physical, Exclusivity: Teeth) 1 0%
Other Skills
Rending Teeth The savage's teeth grow longer, sharper, and ignore object Hardness. Bite damage +50%. MAX
He unhinged his jaw. He heard the bones crack and break, though he felt no pain. A pang of hunger went through his gut. Already, his belly had shrunk to its normal size. Actually, it felt like his waistline had shrunk.
“I got nothin’,” Lawrence confessed. He shook his head. His mind was completely blank. He looked up at the over-Sized demon. Like Luke Skywalker facing down the rancor. Except Luke had clothes.
“For the record, I know all about your little escapade to one of our recent fortresses. Yes, you are the [Faustian] who shot one of my lieutenants. Parasol Parade reported clearing your fortress a few days ago. They said you ran. So nice of you to deliver yourself here, to me. You were going to end up on my plate sooner or later. Is it not remarkable, how you came all this way and struggled so long to resist, only to meet the same fate you would have had otherwise?” Lord Gulosus chortled.
A vertical line appeared in the center of the demon’s swollen gut. The line split, revealing a secondary mouth filled with a rim of sharp teeth. Behind the mouth sat a mess of fleshy insides. Not a stomach per se, just organs and acid.
Lawrence could have challenged Caster to a duel, killed him, then bargained with Gulosus for a spot as his new [Faustian]. He could Contract Lily and the rest with low-strength, meaningless Contracts to pass them off as his servants. Then they’d all have decent jobs until they found something better. Peer pressure would have helped force Gulosus into giving Lawrence what he wanted.
But Lawrence knew the whole thing was a fantasy. Gulosus never had any intention of giving him even one iota of anything. Lawrence’s acquaintances were the ones in trouble. If he died, they’d keep living. But if they died, what purpose did he serve? Dis was the dream, but it was just a dream. Here, Tempest, Lily and the Parade, even Kyri, they were real. They mattered.
If he failed now, they’d be slaves at best. Gulosus would eat them. Doofy might live for the simple fact he was a giant among giants with [Stone Skin], but the rest would be eaten. Some lords may have asked Lawrence to stab his friends in the back for a job or promotion. Any demon would do it. It was one reason why Lawrence did not trust Kyri, and only half-trusted Lily.
Demons were an orphan race. Virtues like compassion or kindness did not exist in their heads. He could run, yes, and no one would blame him. Or betray them. He could offer them instead to save himself. He could bind them, then deliver their Contracts to Gulosus, who would then eat them. Lawrence knew this too was a dream. A fantasy, an escape from reality. Reality stared down on him with two mouths and a huge number of teeth. Reality ripped him from the safe embrace of la-la-land. Real danger stared.
Lawrence walked forward. He didn’t know if he could touch the demon. In his gut, his hunger roared. He had eaten a feast, and still he starved.
The demon’s hand came in. Lawrence debated fighting. He was still hungry. He had nowhere else to go. He looked at the variables in his head of his biology, his mutations, and his possible bio-dad. He did the math. Calm, cold certainty filled him. He squared his shoulders.
This was the right decision.
The demon wrapped his waist in its pudgy, sweaty fingers and pulled him in. It pressed him against its stomach-mouth, a horrible feeling. Like a big, sweaty man with sticky fingers who had grabbed him too tight and was pulling him against his body. The big mouth whispered unintelligible slurred moist words like a drunk breathing in his ear, only it covered his entire face. Horrible, rancid breath invaded his nose. Lawrence couldn’t get away from it, this thing that wanted him, wanted to get inside him and open him up. Lawrence tried. He couldn’t help it. It wasn’t a choice. He couldn’t stop himself from trying thrash himself away from it, to twist and fight its grip, but it didn’t work. He was helpless.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The only good thing is that the secondary mouth’s many tongue-tentacles could not get in. They tried to push between his lips, but he kept them clenched tight, and he kept his behind pressed together. But he’d get tired eventually; he’d have to give up. He couldn’t outlast it. The terror and rage of knowing he couldn’t outlast was the only reason he was able to do anything else.
He pushed his way inside the mouth. He stepped over the yawning ring of teeth. He ignored the demon’s mad laughing. He pushed a little past its lips, and then the mouth slid down over his head and shoulders and it stopped being anything like being held by a person, no matter how awful. The mouth ended and the rest of the demon’s interior surrounded. It wasn’t tongue-tentacles and hands and sweaty skin and lips and sharp teeth and drunken whispers. It was organs and intestines and eyes and the half-digested remains of people, still alive and conscious and floating in an ocean of acid and ichor like organelles in a cell. All the bodies screamed.
“Kill me,” one unidentifiable half of face yelled as it drifted past. “Kill me and end this torment.”
“Kill us,” the souls screamed. “Kill us.”
The demon’s body pushed at Lawrence. It tried to get inside him and open him up and make him part of it, mash him up and melt him into itself, and it was the disgusting, wet, horrible inside of dying things, never quite getting to be dead, rotting and still bubbling with blood. Lawrence started screaming, just from feeling it squish around him.
And he knew no one was coming, no matter how much he screamed. Lily could not help. Even if she tried, she’d be eaten or killed, or worse and then killed. Parasol Parade would remain silent. Kyri would be disappointed that she could not ride his coattails. Therefore, Lawrence kept going.
He was looking for Lord Gulosus’ heart. He felt the floor lurch and shift as the demon moved. Lawrence was thrown from his feet. He landed face-first in a pile of something nasty.
“Kill me,” a voice whispered in his ear. “Please. I beg of you.”
“No, you’re already dead,” Lawrence screamed. His skin burned from the acid. He screamed and sobbed and cried and blindly shoved his way forward. The floor had stopped lurching, and was now slanted, which meant the demon had returned to its seat and now reclined. Lawrence could not bear it any longer. He abandoned his disgust, which had previously kept him from doing something abominable. His jaw opened.
“Hellfire Bomb,” Lawrence screamed. It was a hung ritual. He had a few remaining. He threw every one of his hellfire rituals, along with every ritual for exploding held iliaster. All around him the horrible stuff went worse, sludging into putrescence. He forced his will out in a cloud, but the demon shoved it back. It was like fighting against an ocean while sitting on the seafloor.
He swiped the air with his hands. He felt a brief flash of pain, then a weird painless sensation of his skin tearing, and it felt good. The hunger in his gut roared like a lion, but the sensation in his hands mollified it. Lawrence spread his fingers. He felt the skin on his palms separate. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth. He chomped down. Organs and flesh and acid and the tatters of souls went down his throat like a chunky milkshake.
Abomination committed. Horror Class requirements fulfilled: Commit an abominable act to survive when one has no other option. Horror Class assigned: Inhumane Survivor Skill Assigned: Survivor's Instinct
He tried to set aside his identity of Doctor Lawrence, to tell himself it wasn’t his fault, that the reason he ate the monster’s insides was because he was under the influence of something, whether spirits, the Program, a dead soul, his bio-dad, or something else. It did not work. The nightmare was his own doing. This was his choice. It was his responsibility. He chose to survive.
He now had partial Access. On any other day, at any other time, Lawrence would be overjoyed, but right now all he cared about was living. Doctor Lawrence set aside his humanity. Something dark rose up from within him. He had a sense he’d be better if he began eating.
The acid ate his skin. He felt it burning everywhere, even in places he especially did not want to feel. Lawrence wanted to puke. A red bar appeared in the upper-left corner of his vision, under which was a larger blue bar, under which was a small green bar, and under that was a small yellow bar segmented into ten squares. His health rapidly drained. He gulped down a mass of flesh and fluids with his primary and secondary mouths. His health regenerated.
Abomination committed. Horror Class requirements fulfilled Cannibalize a still-living member of one's species. Name Stats gained per lvl. Level Proficiency Abomination Class unlocked Cursed Eater +3 PWR, +3 SKL, +3 TAB 1 0% Curse Ghoulification +2 PWR, +2 SKL, +2 AGI, +2 TAB 1 0% Skill Assigned Cannibalism Empowerment +5 PWR, +25 HP, +25 TAB per feeding. MAX Drawback Fear Aura MAX
Lawrence concentrated. He saw four of those yellow blocks turn gray, and he knew he’d generated four soul units from his reserve. His health still decreased.
“Fast Healing,” Lawrence shouted. He swiped the large intestine. The demon’s most recent meal exploded over him in a shower of half-digested food and processed poop. His secondary mouths spread wide, covering his entire palms. They vacuumed up the mess, sucking in acid, intestines, vegetables, meat, body parts, wine, and yes, even the poop. Lawrence wanted to vomit. Instead he swallowed another mouthful. He felt it run down his throat. His soul units and health regenerated.
He alternated casting rituals off the cuff—which required ever-increasing efforts of Will—and eating. His secondary hands sucked everything in. Lawrence tasted it all. His stomach somersaulted, but he kept eating. His resources kept regenerating. Through it all the demon’s voice penetrated the skin, distant but clear. Gulosus flailed and howled and begged for it to stop, but there was no stopping.
Lawrence fought for an eternity. The demon’s skin broke open over his head allowing light to enter. Lawrence clawed the hole larger. He stretched the flesh between his fingers, forcing the skin to let him out. He spat a glob of something nasty out of his mouth. All around him, rolls of thick demon skin sagged without any support. Sweat, slime, and worse coated Lawrence. He scrubbed his eyes.
Abomination committed Cannibalism Empowerment +5 PWR, +25 VIG, +25 TAB. HP restored.
All the demons had moved to the room’s entrance. The largest crowded the exit. A wall of shields stood in front like a phalanx. Lawrence looked and saw Lily standing behind the phalanx, with the mercenaries nearby. Everyone with a weapon had it drawn. Lawrence met the silence with his own. Should he speak? Give a speech? Maybe a Bond one-liner?
His wit failed him. He wiped a string of slime off his chin. No one spoke for a long time.
“All right, mortal,” one of the infiltrator demons leveled a spear. “I don’t how you survived, but…” he trailed off.
“He won the duel. By the law, he is the new [Lord].” Lily elbowed through the wall of warriors. She marched across the vast space. She stomped over the dead lord’s pudgy skin, which was slippery from sweat and slime. Lawrence saw her grimace and don a glove before touching him. She took his hand in hers and raised it high. “All hail [Lord] Lawrence, the [Faustian].”
A murmur rippled across the room.
“He’s a cheat.”
“There never was a duel.”
“He murdered our lord of lords.”
“Kill him.” The last order came from a small goat-beast with beady eyes and mushrooms on its back. “Kill the [Faustian]. Kill the stranger.”
“Kill him.” Other demons took up the chant. “Kill. Kill. Kill.”
“You should get away from me,” Lawrence said, quiet. “You have no part of this. I wouldn’t go for the Delightful Choir, if I were you. They’re cannibals. That’s what delightful means. Not sure what Choir means, but whatevs.”
“How did this happen?” Lily demanded. She lowered her hand and released his. She took a step back. It was a small thing, but noticeable. “What did you do?”
“I was lied to by the sorcerer-beast named Caster. He promised to get you and the others invitations to the Choir if I helped serve the big boss ‘in a delightful manner.’”
“He was executing you.”
“I realize that now. Well, it doesn’t matter. He swore a fifty-strength Contract. Maybe you can parlay it to something good.”
“They’ll kill you.” Lily took another step back. “They’ll probably kill me. Why did you have to reach above yourself? Why couldn’t you just remember your place?”
Lily backed away. Lawrence frowned. He did not understand. He was a Faustian and a decent one. He had the same rights as any demon. His place stood equal with any of hers or theirs, and in some cases better. He had the skills. What was she saying?
Lawrence pushed the rest of the dead demon lord’s skin off. He stepped out of the mess and went over to his clothes. He wiped himself off on the demon’s cushion as best he could before dressing. Putting his clothes back on made him feel gross all over again. He needed a shower, but as water was not in good supply and he needed clothes on, he dealt with it.
He began debating the merits of Hellgouting himself back home for a few days. He could use a break. He needed a hot shower and a nice long sleep. A few hours with his games wouldn’t hurt either.
A spear entered his vision. A steel arrowhead jutted forward from the end of a long pole, held by a fiend with irregular plates of black iron bolted to its flesh.
“Don’t move, [Faustian].”
Lawrence kept one eye on the demon. He knelt, picked up his poncho, and put it on, careful to move slow. He dried his feet carefully before putting his socks and boots on.
“I said don’t move.”
Lawrence jerked his chin by kept getting dressed. When he was finished he stood up straight. He relaxed his shoulders. Several more spears joined the first. Lawrence did not raise his hands.
“Take him away.”
The next few hours went by too slow. Lawrence wanted to skip to the end. He wished there was a button he could press to skip the cutscene and start playing, but this was the real world. Skipping did not exist.
A pack of armored fiends with spears surrounded Lawrence. They put him in an iron cage and strapped it to the back of a giant. The giant wasn’t Doofy. Doofy sat with his legs splayed at the end of his feeding sluice while a horde of humans shoveled food down his gullet. When the food ran out, he took a break to lick his fingers like an oversized baby, then the attending demons shoved the humans in. Doofy gobbled them all up while ignoring the screams.
The giant to which Lawrence’s cage was strapped was smaller than Doofy by half. He reminded Lawrence of the Incredible Hulk, all muscles and gray skin instead of green, and a layer of stone scales instead of flesh, no pants but no genitals to cover, and a small box-shaped head. The giant grunted as he took the weight. Lawrence tore his eyes away from the horror of Doofy eating. He hunched his shoulders, but he could still hear the screaming.
He saw a human-like infiltrator entering the vast stomach. This one was a woman, dark hair and a good face, with a motherly smile. In one hand she clutched the hand of a child. Behind her followed a train of children, boys and girls, all holding hands. Their expressions were like those kids in children’s hospitals being stuck with needles. Feeling it, but not reacting, taking it like champs, numb to the experience.
The infiltrator led them on a circuit around several fat demons feasting on tables. Her path took her past the table with the mercenaries. One of the kids tripped on something and made a small cry, but she kept stumbling along. Captain Ferg’s head whipped around when she heard the sound, as did the blue lady.
“What are they gonna do to those little ones?” she asked. None of the demons responded. The answer came soon enough, as the infiltrator led the boys and girls past a table heaped high with human body parts. The children looked over the carnage without reacting.
The infiltrator led them to the next table. Several pregnant women sat on it, upright on the elbows with their knees up, wailing in pain and clenching their core muscles, pushing. Lawrence heard a high-pitched cry. An attending demon lifted a machete. Lawrence wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He saw the machete fall, but it wasn’t the baby that got it, it was the umbilical cord. A sweaty hand then lifted the baby, and—Lawrence squeezed his eyes shut.
Like a jellybean. The mother’s horrified screaming and weeping followed.
Lawrence shuddered. He dared to look once more. He saw the line of children pass the dreadful table. The eating drone did not even turn his head. The motherly infiltrator led the children past. The final table was missing. In its place was a slippery aluminum staircase assembled at a moment’s notice. The infiltrator led the line of children up one flight. She turned the corner and led them to the other side of the platform.
“Look, children,” the demoness said. “We’re really high now.”
“Woooow.” The children’s face lit up. Lawrence wished… a dark thought entered his mind. He briefly considered whether it would be better to kill them. Frost had once said children did not go to Hell when they died, if they were young enough, age seven in the Catholic church, twelve in others. Lawrence was not good at estimating ages. He dismissed his dark thought for the simple fact it was wrong to consider.
“Come along, children. We are almost there.” The infiltrator led them up another flight of stairs. The children stumbled along after her. There was no railing. OSHA would have a field day with that treacherous staircase. The demoness went more slowly so the children did not fall. After several long minutes, they reached the top. The infiltrator gestured to a metal half-pipe. “See? A carnival slide. First one to the bottom wins a prize!”
The horror broke. The children cheered. Well, most of them cheered. A few wiser or more dead inside refused to change their expressions. Still, they all dutifully climbed into the slippery tube. An attending demon pushed the rearmost child with a pole. The ones in front pushed themselves forward, and soon they were all sliding down the metal trough.
“Oh no.” Lawrence glanced sideways. He saw Captain Ferg’s mouth hanging open. How old was she? Mid-thirties, maybe? At least thirty. Old enough to be a captain and comfortable with the rank. Old enough to have children.
“Wheeee,” yelled the high-pitched voices. He looked up at the metal trough in time to see the children raise their hands like they were on a roller coaster. Lawrence supposed some things were universal. The wild shouts of delight turned, well, delightful. That is, into universal screams of horror as they hurtled straight toward Doofy’s gaping, waiting mouth. “AHHHHHH.”
Lawrence looked away. He heard the sounds rise to a fever-pitch mixed with the crunching of bone. He looked at Captain Ferg. Her face flushed. Her lips pressed into a thin white line. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. Lawrence wondered if she had children back home.
Lawrence waited in the cage for the remainder of the banquet. More children came and went. More humans and aliens died. Lawrence did not see where Lily had gotten to. After several hours of waiting, the giant carrying his cage stood. It lumbered out the door and away from the nightmare.
“Status,” Lawrence whispered. It wasn’t what he wanted. It did not happen the way he’d imagined. He still wasn’t a Mage. He still had not been to magic school. Nimue’s Tower did not count, in his opinion. It was a place for noobs to learn addition and subtraction, not real magic. The memories he’d stolen from Winter proved it. Anywho, as the giant took one swaying step after the other, Lawrence spoke the word, and this is what he saw.
General Information
Stats
Class Information Name Doctor Lawrence Name Value Name Value Name Level Progress Species Half-Demon (Human Mortal/Beast), Half-Starling (Carmine King) PWR 47 PER 8 Savage Cursed Survivor 1 60% Sex Male SKL 8 AGI 8 Age 15 years, 11 months KNW 18 LCK 12 Resources MNT 18 SOL 10 HP 297/297 (2.97/minute)
FCE 8 ARM 1 MP 198/198 (1.3/minute) WIS 13 COR 56 KI 60/60 (0.06/minute) VIG 20 TAB 538
SOL
10/10 (+1/day) KI 6 ELD 10 HNG Full (1.5x HP regen) SAN 100 FTH 8 Defenses
HNG 106 END 1 Sanity
55/100 ARM 1 Endurance
1 Armor
1
Skill List Name Value Proficiency Rending Teeth N/A MAX Survivor's Instinct N/A MAX Cannibalism Empowerment N/A MAX Monstrous Maw I 1 96% Horror Hunger II 1
78%
Eldritch Organs (2 Mouths) 1
46%
Miscellaneous Attributes Name Value
Proficiency
Aspect: Ghoul
1
98%
Curse: Ghoulification 1
84%
Drawbacks: The Shakes, Fear Aura