Content warning/Spoiler:

Assault. Violence. Death. Mental trauma and emotional breaks.

Amwella sight whirls into perspective while my tail flits and snaps toward her, every claw and tooth rippling out. She’s still about fifteen feet away, so it can’t reach, but to anyone who is watching for souls it makes a pretty terrifying warning.

“Go away.” Is all I can hiss as horrible memories send cold ice down my spine, make my legs shake and talons tremble.

Crack Whip-Snap go my Naranggas.

She flinches, an angry smile on her lips. “Will you submit tonight?”

I know if she were to try again I would tear her soul to pieces. Know that I am so so much stronger than her now. While she may be seven feet of muscle and predator, I have eight feet of soul rending ugly tendril. And judging by the sorry state her Amwella is still in, I could tear her apart before she got to me.

…I hope.

But still… I take a wary step back. She should know all of that. So why come after me again–

Then I hear a low growl from behind me, jerk my head around to see two others blocking the other way out. I’m about to just turn and barrel at Twital, cut through the weakest predator to escape, but when I turn back the fourth and final Reaver besides Thendra and Bulderii themselves stands beside her. All nasty and hungry grins.

My tail does a whip-crack snap in both directions, a warning. Whoever comes at me first gets stung. But… It's all fear and horror now.

I… I can’t hope to fight off all of them!

“Wh– What do you want?” I stammer. Can’t keep my fear from tainting my voice.

“Same thing as before.” Twital purrs as her and the other along that side flex claws and crack their necks in anticipation.

I glance back to make sure the other two haven't moved. They haven't, but… the Reavers are so fast. I’ll be lucky to flinch before they reach me.

Snap-crack goes my tail again.

“Why!?!” I try to hiss and growl, but it comes out as a small and pleading thing. “Why did… Why is she letting you do this!?!”

There is a pause, a thrum of anticipation.

“Last chance, Little Fae.” A Reaver murmurs from behind me.

“Dreamer Blighted Cunts!”

They hit me from both sides just as the final word escapes through my lips. I do catch their movements, even manage to cut one of the Reavers as she comes at me from behind. But… it's not enough.

They pin me to the wall. The one beside Twital effortlessly holds my left talon and leg, while another slams my head and right shoulder to the hard stone. The last takes my right leg while her own large, albeit shorter than my own, tendril wraps about and constricts my tail into a useless writhing mangling of soulfire. A dance of tooth and claw she doesn’t seem to mind the pain of.

Twital only moves in after It’s clear the others have me. I kick and spit and snarl and hiss as she presses herself up against my chest. Her soul sprouting new little tendrils with sharp teeth and claws and–

Melt melt melt! I wriggle and adjust my Amwella into the soft flexible state best at avoiding her.

“That is such a wonderful trick, little Fae.” She purrs as her tongue and teeth graze down my neck. Her own Amwella begins to come closer, spreads, ready to–

I spring my solitary tooth forth, trying to catch and cut her. But… she pulls her soul back easily, a laugh rolling down through her chest into my own.

The Reaver beside her pulls back and slams my head harder into the wall. “That’s the tooth she used?”

Twital sighs, annoyed. “Yes, I was careless and let her wrap about my Naranggas. Speaking of which…” Her glowing gray eyes drift to my tail. Still pinned and held by another Reaver while the core of my souls wriggles about in melty evasions. “You have something of mine.”

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I’m already overwhelmed with such fear and anger. But I can’t help but feel my entire body redouble its panic and writhing at her words. “P– Please! I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

But she’s already moving, pressing and twisting her own soul up against the base of the tail. “Don’t worry, little slave, I’ll make sure you feel some pleasure before I cut it away.” She purrs as fingers trace down my belly.

While my core can go soft and melt and become a soft thing ready to shift itself around to avoid attack. My tail can’t, it's… its…

I jerk to a stop. But… Why can’t my new tail do the same?

Deep breath. Focus all thoughts into the tail. Just… ignore everything but that muscle.

Tooth and claw graze along my soul as fingers begin to–

Then my tail melts alongside my Amwella, separates into two, slips free, then pops back into a solid state of whirling soulfire.

Whip-crack snap, and the one that’s pinning my tail is reeling back. Slurp slurp slurp and a wave of feeding euphoria and–

Focus or get eaten!!!

Snap whip-crack, Three much thinner tendrils this time, two carve at the one at my head and leg while the last cuts the other.

Sluuuuurp. The absorption is harder to ignore, but… but I manage as I kick off the wall and ride Twital to the ground. Hissing and snarling and biting her big stupid face. All three tendrils are poised behind me now. A whirling mass of soul drinking death, Thin as a Talon but twice as sharp. Then they’re all plunging down toward this Reaver’s Amwella. Wrapping around and around and sinking tooth and claw deep into–

A full reversal of momentum as big Reaver feet slam into my gut and chest, bones snap and crack as I bounce off the ceiling and tumble into a heap onto the floor. Warmth, wonderful euphoria and pleasure overwhelm the pain of broken bones and twisted muscles. I jerk, realize the mass of… of… something beneath me is… is… what is this?

Why is it pulsing with fear and anger and emotions?

I look up to see Twital trying to rise, such a… a confused look on her face as one hand presses to her sternum. At the sudden cold that must wrap around her. Roots of rot and decay and such a horrible ending.

I look down, and see the Reaver’s soul held amidst my Naranggas as a jungle cat would clasp at a prize, And very much not in Twital’s chest like it should be. And… and I can feel her final terrible emotions as it melts into my own core.

A thump, and when I look back up, Twital lies dead on the ground. The other Reavers are only just beginning to rise. Glimmering eyes wide and fixed on Twital’s corpse as their own Amwella weep from the gaping wounds I’ve left them.

I… I killed her. I’m… I’m eating her S– sO... ouL–

I shudder as a wave of pleasure rocks through me. Feeding euphoria numbs panic and kills pain and fear. Tails and tendrils whirling, I fight to stand. Deep breath, and level a glare at the wounded Reavers. One by one, they look back at me, watching as the final dribbles of soulfire drool get slurped up and into my Amwella.

I hiss.

A couple blinks, and they’ve slunk back and disappeared around the far corner. And I’m left alone with the second person I’ve ever killed.

I don’t… don’t remember moving to stand over the body. Only… only now I am looking down into those wide lifeless eyes…

Dreamer’s Tits, I… I should be horrified by this. Vomiting and screaming and… and…

But the only thing flowing through me right now is… pleasure. Horrid, surging, and wonderful. If I move it might… might go away. And… and I don’t want to feel what was there before. This feels niiiice. Right and warm and perfect…

I don’t know how long I stand over Twital’s corpse. Shaking and shuddering in euphoria as my tails twist and wind about me, a better mirror to the chaos I should be falling into. But eventually… a shuddering glimmering sound alerts me to another presence.

“Lyra?” Awnya whispers from behind me. Then there is an intake of breath. Not… not a gasp. But It marks when she sees the corpse. Probably… probably used her Amwella sight to tell that it’s very dead.

“Dreamer’s Tits! Lyra, Are you–”

Whip-crack snap.

“Woah! Okay okay.” She exclaims as my tails move to protect my back. I can feel her soul through them. A… a pressure about ten feet away. Just out of reach.

“It’s okay, whatever happened. It’s okay! Can you… can you just calm your tails for me? Please?” She coos softly. “Lyra? Can you hear me?”

This goes on for a bit. I… I can hear her but…. Don’t move. Don’t understand why I should. If I move, the pain WILL come back.

“Please girl, give me a sign here. Let me know that you're okay.” Awnya pleads. “Your soul looks whole and wonderful, no wounds. But… I see bruises on your back and I’m worried you're going into shock.”

I ate the monster that hurt me. And now her soul keeps me warm and safe and… and… PErFeEeeeeecT...

But… the warmth does begin to fade. And my shuddering gets worse and worse as the old horrid feelings begin to rise from the muck of my mind. The words of my Usete, the Beloved Sibling.

Agony and despair will curse your songs.

“Lyra? Hey, can… can I come over to–”

Snap whip-crack. Is the only answer I can give as glossy dead eyes glare up at me. Hungry and accusing and almost feral as I feel the muck of emotions returning.

“Okay okay, no problem.” Awnya says with such… confidence and kindness and…

Twitch twitch, goes the talon attached to my right arm.

“I’m right here!” Such warmth and… and… love and… and she doesn’t hate me? Why doesn’t she hate like all the others!?!

“Whenever you need me. I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you!”

The talon that isn't my talon twitches again. It hates that. The glossy eyes and rotten talon… only… only my tails seems to calm at her words.

But… they know they can’t let her near. Rot and ruin and much worse are beginning to stir.

I don’t know when the tears begin to fall, or when my legs start going a bit wibbly wobbly. But Awnya doesn’t leave. No matter how much my tails flail and whirl and try and warn her off. To run away. To just…

Just…

Twitch twitch. Come closer. Begs that wretched talon.

Snap whip-crack! My tails scream for her to run.

Twitch twitch. Maggots need to eat too. Will you feed them? Warm souls always make the best homes for the little rotten–

I growl, lift the thing to my mouth, and BITE THE TALON.

Awnya yelps in surprise and horror. Then darts into motion. Tries to… to get around my–

Whip-crack Snap!!!

She needs to let me finish. Need to get this thing off! Feeding euphoria fading, leaving only pain. But that’s not the worst part of this. That would be the taste of the wretched thing. I gag and almost vomit at the taste of Blood and flesh and bone and rot.

Spit, unhinge the jaw to make room. Keep biting. Teeth are sharp enough for this. TEAR IT OFF!

Awnya’s fast, and… and is noticing my tails don’t seem to hit her soul. Sees the false promises in their threats.

She slams into my back, arms wrapping around my chest as another reaches up and around to pull my hand out of my mouth–

Twital’s hateful dead eyes are screaming now! Threatening to help the twitching talon that’s not my talon if I don’t let the rot maggots feed…

We hit a wall, slide down it a bit as she wrestles with me. Shouts things I can’t understand. I… I think I fight her a bit, but she’s actively pinning my arm up against her chest as she whistles and grunts healing songs to stop the spray and sputtering of blood from the missing fingers and gaping wounds.

My tails whirl and curl around us, around her. Not to hurt. But to warn off the dead eyes and twitching talon bits I’ve already torn off and spat away.

“Lyra, BE STILL!!” She hisses through the song.

I obey, but my tails do not. They continue to move about. Waiting till the hallway is clear of the rot. Body pain begins to settle in then. Aching burning agony in my back and shoulders, screams of pain leaking from the talon paralyze me.

I’m just a shaking mess for a while, unable to do anything but try and pull the talon back. Awnya keeps it pinned under one arm after the worst of my bites are sealed, instead takes my head into her lap and just… holds me as my thoughts melt.