He never expected to be a snitch. But then again, he never expected to be hogtied and naked in his apartment either. Both courtesy of his nemesis, Bobbi Nox.

The current predicament of thirty-one-year-old Markos Turloch began when the owner of a local community bank decided to put his twenty-six-year-old niece in charge of the Internal Audit Department where Markos worked.

Obvious nepotism aside, this blue-eyed, blonde-haired beauty had a freshly minted MBA in Accounting. And it was clear that Bobbi was being groomed to become the CEO of the company one day.

Unfortunately, Bobbi also proved to be a two-faced bitch. Oh, whenever she turned on the charm, she was gregarious and everyone (aside from Markos) loved her. But when she flipped over to bitch mode, watch out!

Since Bobbi was Markos' immediate supervisor, she often vented her frustration on him. She would call him into the office for any real or imaginary mistake in his report. Sometimes, she would even pretend to be an English professor and made grammatical corrections in his reports.

Markos never understood why she singled him out for harassment. Perhaps she was physically repulsed by him. After all, he stood just a shade over five feet tall, with a thin build and a receding hairline (already). Yes, Markos will be the first to admit that he was not physically attractive. But he was always polite to his co-workers and no one ever had any complaint about him besides Bobbi.

Since the two worked in the same department, Bobbi had to walk by his cubicle every day in order to reach her office. She would often make rude or snide comments within his earshot.

Furthermore, Bobbie belittled him and made derogatory comments about him to his co-workers at the bank. She even pondered aloud if Markos was gay.

Sure enough, the daily innuendo and gossip against Markos slowly but surely turned the company's opinion of him from favorable to unfavorable. Even worse, Bobbie exploited the annual performance review in mid-December and made false but critical comments in his file regarding his work performance.

When Markos receive a copy of his annual performance report, he was livid. He almost stormed into her office to strangle the little witch. But what saved her that day was happenstance--the owner of the bank visited Bobbie's office and they were having a casual, but happy conversation.

From that day forward, Markos decided to dig deeper into certain, suspicious accounts that he came across during his internal audit work. As his supervisor, Bobbi told him which client accounts to audit. However, during his frequent trips to her office, he saw very suspicious accounts on her computer screen.

The clients were LLCs located in infamous tax havens countries such as Panama and Barbados, to name two. Even worse, the accounts had transactions which involved huge sums of money; millions of dollars were deposited one day and transferred out the next day.

Markos began to suspect that the bank was involved in illegal money laundering. If so, then it made sense for the owner to insert his own family member to keep an eye on the Internal Audit Department, which could unravel these illegal transactions.

Markos spent the next few months making secret copies of these suspicious transactions. Additionally, he checked to see if anyone at the bank had filed suspicious activity reports regarding these transactions, as required by federal law. Yet, he found no such filings by the bank.

Thus, Markos endured the daily torment from his boss while secretly gathering documents. The next spring, he called in sick one morning and then drove to the local FBI office with copies of these documents. After several interviews, the FBI launched a raid against the bank.

In the meantime, he never returned to work ever since the day he called in sick. Markos asked for and received a sabbatical from the Human Resources Department. He used this time off to move to another place. The Feds offered to put him in witness protection but he declined. After all, why would anyone from the bank go after his life?

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In hindsight, Markos made two errors in judgment. First, he was absent during the FBI raid of the office and he never returned to work, thereby raising suspicion that he was the one who had whistleblown on the bank. Second, he declined to join witness protection.

These errors in judgment came two light some two weeks after the FBI raid. One evening, he had opened the front door and entered his apartment building when someone rushed up behind him. He felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the base of his neck.

"Go to your apartment," a female voice said.

A cold shiver crept up his spine when Markos recognized the voice. He heard it every day at work for the past 15 months. It was his tormentor, Bobbie Nox.

Markos obeyed. He crossed the hallway and unlocked the door at the end; his apartment was on the ground floor. Once the door was opened, he was roughly shoved inside. The door soon closed and locked behind him with a loud click.

When Markos turned around, his eyes were drawn to the gun pointed at his head. The one holding the gun was, indeed, Bobbie Nox. She was dressed in tight-fitting black leather. She wore a tank top that ended above her navel, revealing a smooth, muscular abdomen. She wore a short skirt that ended above mid-thigh. She also had black boots that rose above her calves.

Without warning, Bobbie rushed toward him and slapped him across the face. "You rat!" she spat out with dark venom. She kneed him in the stomach and then slammed her gun against the back of his head.

Markos dropped to the ground and lost consciousness. When he came to, he was naked and hogtied behind his back. He was laid on his belly. He struggled to break free of the duck tape but couldn't. He glanced at his surroundings and saw the contents of his fridge scattered about on the floor. Why?

Suddenly, his body was turned over. Something pulled him by his hair and dragged his body along the floor. Bobbi then stood over him and shoved his body into the open fridge. Cold air blew on his bare skin. Markos tried to scream but his mouth was gagged and covered with duck tape.

Bobbie drew closer to him. She caressed her breasts and swayed her hips before him. "You think I'm hot, don't you?" she cooed innocently.

The captive nodded.

"If you can make me horny, I'll let you go." She reached for his penis and started stroking it.

Despite the cold air from the fridge, his member burned with desire and blood rushed in.

Bobbie smiled sweetly at him as she stroked him and he became harder and harder. When she saw that his dick was fully erect, she pulled out a butcher knife from behind her back and chopped off his penis. "To hell," she said and slammed the door shut.

Markos was delirious with agony as blood poured out like a water fountain. He frantically slammed his head against the door to push it open. But something was blocking it. He was trapped in the fridge and he was quickly bleeding to death.

In the darkness, in the cold, he felt his life slowly drain out of his body. With the last of his thoughts, he cursed Bobbie Nox.

***

Markos slowly regained awareness. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't. Where am I? He tried to open his eyes again. And failed. It was as if his eyes no longer existed. He tried to flex his fingers. Again, nothing happened. His mind panicking now, he tried to move his body. Yet, he felt nothing. He screamed. He heard nothing. What happened to me?

When his panic left his body sometime later, Markos reached out with his mind. He soon discovered his thoughts were floating in a dark pool teeming with energy. It felt cold and warm at the same time. His existence had changed. He slowly remembered the last thing he felt--overwhelming pain from having his erect dick cut off by that bitch, Bobbi Nox.

Markos had died inside that fridge in his new apartment. He was no longer on Earth. He felt sadness at his passing. He had so much to live for. He was only 31 for God's sakes! He had worked so hard to build a stable life for himself. But that life was cruelly snatched away from him by that nasty woman. He felt anger and resentment at the unfairness of it all.

What are you going to do about it?

Markos froze. The thought was not his own. Something had entered his consciousness. It was a metallic voice devoid of emotion. It sounded like a robocall. Who are you?

A friend.

Do you know what happened to me?

You were reincarnated.

Markos took a moment to consider the answer. It made sense. When people died, it was assumed that they were either reborn in the same form of existence or reincarnated in a different form. They reappeared either in the same world as before or in a different world altogether. The answer from the unknown entity had confirmed that he was no longer a human being. And he had a suspicion that he was not on Earth either. But his current location was secondary. The other question was of primary importance: What am I?

You are a dungeon core.