"I'm sorry, sir," said the miner in a stern tone, "but we're just a simple village. Ain't nothing 'round here but rocks and an old iron mine."

"Rocks, huh?" said a soldier. "You got a bit more than just rocks, don't you?" He spoke with an officer's tone, a sort of high-and-mighty cadence of speech.

"I don't know what you're getting at."

"We know he's here."

"Who?" asked the miner.

"Redrim."

"Never heard of him," said the miner.

The officer took a step forward and squinted his eyes. "That so?" His men, four other soldiers, smirked and chuckled under their breaths. "Strange," he said. "Redrim was last sighted carrying a very valuable item--stolen--from our care."

"Don't know nothing of it," said the miner.

"And yet," the officer continued, "Our reports indicate that he was last headed here, right to this village." He waved rolled his hands at the world around. "Now, why would he be coming here of all places?"

"I dunno what yer gettin' at," said the miner. "Nothing here but simple village folk--"

"And a rogue trash can," the officer finished.

The miner paused. He knew. "Never heard of it, but if anyone here sees what you're looking for, I'll be sure to contact ya."

The officer stepped closer, nearly in the miner's face. "Or how about we burn this piece of shit village to ash? For treason."

The miner said nothing. "Tell me where your camp is, and we'll send word if and when we see it. Hell, we'll even go out lookin' if that'd tickle yer fancy."

The officer crossed his arms. His jaw clenched. His eyes looked around, searching for nothing in particular--thinking--and when he found within himself whatever answer satisfied him, he nodded.

He drew his pistol--

I pounced with an electric roar.

--and he fired.

The soldiers snapped over to me, and what they saw filled their eyes and hearts with fear. A rogue trash can with skeleton limbs and metal octopus arms that flailed behind, screaming, sprinting in a grey blur.

Some had pistols, single shot hand cannons. They aimed at me as they stumbled back.

They were too slow.

I snatched the first man--gunshots plinked off my arms and punched through my body--and I gripped his throat.

Another drew his sword and swung at me.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

I parried with a metal arm.

Hmmmm-click-click-click-click.

Two manipulator arms dug into my mouth to draw cheaply-made swords. The others dug into the man who writhed in my grip, the knife-hands slicing down his torso to squirm around inside his body, and he shrieked in agony, and the other soldiers shook off their fear and charged--

Heart of the Masochist activated.

They slashed and stabbed at my metal body, denting and crunching against my limbs and sides, and every blow lit a fire within me, brighter, higher, burning alive, and I felt the spark of madness well up inside me--

"That's right!" I demanded. "More! Punish me more!"

I felt my inner power crest to its apex, and no longer could I contain myself. My thin metal tentacles erupted out of that dying man, and when his body exploded into shredded flesh and meat and scarlet mist, I roared out in electric demon laughter.

I felt amazing. I wanted more.

They froze.

I stood before them not as a trash can, but as a god of warfare, with skeleton limbs and tentacles that each waved around a sword. A trash can masochist gimp-adjacent.

I cleaved the nearest soldier in two.

Blood sprayed against the house.

A soldier stumbled back, face pale, eyes wide as I hurled a sword at him.

It pinned him against a wall.

Another charged, raised his sword high--he pulsed red with magic--and he slammed down against me.

I struggled back.

My skeleton arms creaked against the force, giving way. I was still weak. "Emergency power!" I yelled. "Everything!"

I felt the burst of power shoot through me, and just when I started to force him back, he pulsed harder in red light. I was giving way again! He was stronger than me!

My flex arms wrapped my skeleton bones to form muscle tendons. It pushed with everything I had, harder, desperate, and just when we had met our equilibrium of strength, his elbows shattered, and he screamed--cut short as I diced him to cubes.

I stood, somehow panting, and I looked over the carnage.

There was one man left.

The officer.

He stared at me, and I at him, and he spun on his heels and sprinted away, out to the plains, out to a huddle of grazing horses. He was trying to escape!

Not him, not that fucker. He shot my favorite miner. He was going to get the worse of it.

I started after, but I was sluggish. My skeleton legs were shit! They were shit! They were too slow! Even with emergency power, I was falling behind!

"Flashstep!"

"Not enough mana," said Cassandra."

"Fuck!"

"How can I catch him?" I demanded.

"Run on all fours," she said. "Like the dog you are."

"What? Whatever, fine. Fine! Fuck it!"

I dropped down on all fours, now galloping at my target, using my flex arms to dig through the grass and dirt for added speed, and I blitzed out after him, gaining on him, fast, faster, closer, no longer was I a trash can god of war.

I was a demon, a beast, a garbage can force of nature.

The officer felt the pounding of my rage close the gap behind him, and he glanced back to see a writhing, galloping, roaring mass of whipping metal arms and skeleton legs and a trash can core.

I had become death incarnate.

He shrieked.

I pounced on him.

We hit the ground hard and slid to a stop.

I hissed down at him like a horrific abomination of the spirit realm, and my arms slid ever so gently beneath his skin, caressing his tendons and organs and bones, and as he writhed and struggled and gasped as the fear overtook him, as the abyssal rage of me stared down at him and he at me with wide, regretful eyes, I gripped pieces of him--

And ripped him to shreds, shoving chunks of him into my mouth as a devourer.

+1 Human hand

+1 Human arm

+1 Human Rib

+1 Human Kidney...

And I consumed him there, in the grass, piece by piece until his screams cut short, and by the time none of him remained, I stood.

The deed was done.

It was over.

And I felt a sort of serene calm, sort of like that post-orgasm feeling when clarity strikes, and I found myself in a weird spot, somehow embarrassed by my fucked up antics, and it was no different here.

Eating a living human like that was completely uncalled for, a bit rude even, and I felt a little guilty being so messy about it.

I shrugged it off and turned around.

A hundred villagers stared back in shock and silence.