by Rowan Bree
The black rabbit in the corner seems to disagree. It is shaking its head violently, its red eyes fixed on yours. “Bad idea,” it says to you.
The mage continues to pore over the grimoire, unconscious of the creature.
“You can see me?” you whisper.
The rabbit nods. “I can see the future too and it’s not good for you. My master will tell you the same.”
The rabbit looks up to the faun upon whose knee it is sitting. You hadn’t noticed him before and his sudden appearance gives you a fright. This must be what Eli was talking about when he warned you of hallucinations.
The faun scratches the tuft of mossy hair on his chest, but your eyes are drawn downwards to the thick cock hanging between his legs. “Listen to the rabbit,” he says in a gravelly voice.
“You’re not real,” you whisper.
“Am I not?” The faun smiles.
The mage seems to find what he is looking for and goes to leave. If you’re going to stop him you have to act now.
Stop him.
Listen to the faun.
There is no mistaking it. From his starched black robes to the insolent look of his delicate features, you can tell he is a man of status. He must be the mage you are supposed to kill.
You notice a ceremonial dagger on the bedspread and sneak up behind him. You could kill him right now and he would never know what happened. In fact, that’s probably what you should do. Like Eli said, the Order is evil and must be stopped. Killing this man is the only way.
The black rabbit in the corner seems to disagree. It is shaking its head violently, its red eyes fixed on yours. “Bad idea,” it says to you.
The mage continues to pore over the grimoire, unconscious of the creature.
“You can see me?” you whisper.
The rabbit nods. “I can see the future too and it’s not good for you. My master will tell you the same.”
The rabbit looks up to the faun upon whose knee it is sitting. You hadn’t noticed him before and his sudden appearance gives you a fright. This must be what Eli was talking about when he warned you of hallucinations.
The faun scratches the tuft of mossy hair on his chest, but your eyes are drawn downwards to the thick cock hanging between his legs. “Listen to the rabbit,” he says in a gravelly voice.
“You’re not real,” you whisper.
“Am I not?” The faun smiles.
The mage seems to find what he is looking for and goes to leave. If you’re going to stop him you have to act now.
Stop him.
Listen to the faun.
It all comes back to you—the cliff-side ghost town, Jasper, and the man who tried to force you into a dark ritual to join the Order.
Vale.
He searches through the grimoire muttering to himself. He is just as you remember, from his starched black robes to the insolent look of his delicate features. You recall how you left him chained up to the basement table underneath the abandoned house, naked and begging to cum.
You sneak up behind him and notice a ceremonial dagger on the bedspread. You could kill him right now and he would never know what happened. In fact, that’s probably what you should do. Like Eli said, the Order is evil and must be stopped. Killing Vale is the only way.
The black rabbit in the corner seems to disagree. It is shaking its head violently, its red eyes fixed on yours. “Bad idea,” it says to you.
Vale continues to pore over the grimoire, unconscious of the creature.
“You can see me?” you whisper.
The rabbit nods. “I can see the future too and it’s not good for you. My master will tell you the same.”
The rabbit looks up to the faun upon whose knee it is sitting. You hadn’t noticed him before and his sudden appearance gives you a fright. This must be what Eli was talking about when he warned you of hallucinations.
The faun scratches the tuft of mossy hair on his chest, but your eyes are drawn downwards to the thick cock hanging between his legs. “Listen to the rabbit,” he says in a gravelly voice.
“You’re not real,” you whisper.
“Am I not?” The faun smiles. “Eli never said I wasn’t real.”
Vale seems to find what he is looking for and goes to leave. If you’re going to stop him you have to act now.
Stop Vale.
Listen to the faun.
It all comes back to you—the cliff-side ghost town, Jasper, and the man who tried to force you into a dark ritual to join the Order.
Vale.
He searches through the grimoire muttering to himself. He is just as you remember, from his starched black robes to the insolent look of his delicate features. You recall how you left him chained up to the basement table underneath the abandoned house, naked and begging to cum.
You sneak up behind him and notice a ceremonial dagger on the bedspread. You could kill him right now and he would never know what happened. In fact, that’s probably what you should do. Like Eli said, the Order is evil and must be stopped. Killing Vale is the only way.
The black rabbit in the corner seems to disagree. It is shaking its head violently, its red eyes fixed on yours. “Bad idea,” it says to you.
Vale continues to pore over the grimoire, unconscious of the creature.
“You can see me?” you whisper.
The rabbit nods. “I can see the future too and it’s not good for you. My master will tell you the same.”
The rabbit looks up to the faun upon whose knee it is sitting. You hadn’t noticed him before and his sudden appearance gives you a fright. This must be what Eli was talking about when he warned you of hallucinations.
The faun scratches the tuft of mossy hair on his chest, but your eyes are drawn downwards to the thick cock hanging between his legs. “Listen to the rabbit,” he says in a gravelly voice.
“You’re not real,” you whisper.
“Am I not?” The faun smiles. “Eli never said I wasn’t real.”
Vale seems to find what he is looking for and goes to leave. If you’re going to stop him you have to act now.
Stop Vale.
Listen to the faun.
You ignore the rabbit’s warning and take the dagger from the bedspread. The handle feels like ice in your hand, the cold spreading quickly through your body. Flashes of death fill your mind and you drop the weapon instinctively. You feel like your life force has been drained just by touching it.
You turn to see Vale looking straight at you.
“Is someone there?” He takes a step towards the bed. Apparently he can’t see you, but he must have seen the dagger moving on its own.
As Vale nears the bed you can feel the dark aura radiating off his body. You ache to let it consume you, but know what you must do. He will die never knowing what it was that killed him.
You close your hands around his delicate neck and feel a fire as intense as the cold from the dagger. You try to let go but find that your fingers are stuck as if fused with his aura.
“There you are, kitten,” Vale says. He strokes your cheek and you can feel fire wherever he touches. “I was wondering when we would meet again.”
He puts his arms around you and pulls you into his body. A burning need fills you—anger, desire, and suffering beyond anything you have ever felt before. You want to consume, to destroy.
“Are you going to give up so easily?”
The faun’s voice pierces through the darkness.
“Help me,” you beg.
“I warned you,” the rabbit says.
Your body sinks deeper as your soul is consumed by Vale’s. You can feel his flesh, his muscles, his bones, even the magic surging through his every nerve.
“I’ll help you,” the faun says. “But your life will be mine.”
You feel Vale inside you. His arousal becomes yours, as does his torment.
“Soon he will consume you. You must choose now.”
Agree to the faun'
s terms.
Refuse the faun's terms.
You ignore the rabbit’s warning and take the dagger from the bedspread. The handle feels like ice in your hand, the cold spreading quickly through your body. Flashes of death fill your mind and you drop the weapon instinctively. You feel like your life force has been drained just by touching it.
You turn to see Vale looking straight at you.
“Is someone there?” He takes a step towards the bed. Apparently he can’t see you, but he must have seen the dagger moving on its own.
As Vale nears the bed you can feel the dark aura radiating off his body. You ache to let it consume you, but know what you must do. He will die never knowing what it was that killed him.
You close your hands around his delicate neck and feel a fire as intense as the cold from the dagger. You try to let go but find that your fingers are stuck as if fused with his aura.
“There you are, kitten,” Vale says. He strokes your cheek and you can feel fire wherever he touches. “I was wondering when we would meet again.”
He puts his arms around you and pulls you into his body. A burning need fills you—anger, desire, and suffering beyond anything you have ever felt before. You want to consume, to destroy.
“Are you going to give up so easily?”
The faun’s voice pierces through the darkness.
“Help me,” you beg.
“I warned you,” the rabbit says.
Your body sinks deeper as your soul is consumed by Vale’s. You can feel his flesh, his muscles, his bone, even the magic surging through his every nerve.
“I’ll help you,” the faun says. “But your life will be mine.”
You feel Vale inside you. His arousal becomes yours, as does his torment.
“Soon he will consume you. You must choose now.”
Agree to the faun's terms.
Refuse the faun's terms.
You let the mage leave, trusting for whatever reason the faun’s warning. The faun nods sagely. “Follow him.”
You follow the mage down the hallway and up a spiral staircase. At the top you follow him along a corridor and up another short flight of stairs, where he enters a stone archway draped with black curtains.
It is dark beyond the archway, offering you plenty of room to hide. You see a room filled with robed figures, along with some guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles like those in the mage’s room are placed on different surfaces and in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a familiar circular symbol carved into the stone floor. Perhaps the mage has been practicing for this moment.
“We have the sacrifice.”
One of the robed figures steps forward dragging an unconscious Eli into the center of the circle. The elf’s head lolls forward against his chest.
The mage smiles. “And where did you find this one?”
“Sneaking around outside.”
The mage snaps his fingers. Eli’s eyes flutter and he wakes with a stream of epithets for the Order. The mage silences him with an invisible gag. Eli’s arms are bound likewise by magic to his sides. His face turns purple as he tries to fight them.
“The sacrifice is ready. All we need is your word,” the mage says across the room, to a man seated in a plush chair. The man is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. They look to one another in unease but avoid the gaze of their king.
The king asks, “Is he a traitor to the kingdom?”
The mage nods gravely. “Your guardsmen will recognize him from the prisons. He only escaped recently. Among his outstanding charges are public indecency, resisting arrest, belligerent drunkenness, and treason. He has been spreading the lies of the rebellion and causing unrest amongst your people. And I believe the punishment in Tyven for treason is death?”
The king strokes his beard in thought. “And if you make this sacrifice, my wife will return?”
The mage nods again. “Returned to full life as if she had never left. She will feel as though she was ill for a long time but won’t remember her death.”
A pained look appears on the king’s face. He coughs to cover it.
“Very well. I grant you permission to proceed.”
It might be a trick of the light but you think you see the mage’s eyes flash red. He smiles and rubs his hands together.
“Looks like this is the end for you,” he says to Eli, pulling a dagger from his robes.
Eli’s eyes bulge with fear at the sight of the weapon.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to gut you. Too bad Jasper’s not here to see you die.”
He raises the dagger and begins to chant. The candles in the room flare brighter and a wind stirs though there are no open windows. If you do nothing Eli is going to be sacrificed, but do you stand a chance against a room full of mages and three of the king’s guards?
Run.
Save Eli.
You let the mage leave, trusting for whatever reason the faun’s warning. The faun nods sagely. “Follow him.”
You follow the mage down the hallway and up a spiral staircase. At the top you follow him along a corridor and up another short flight of stairs, where he enters a stone archway draped with black curtains.
It is dark beyond the archway, offering you plenty of room to hide. You see a room filled with robed figures, along with some guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles like those in the mage’s room are placed on different surfaces and in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a familiar circular symbol carved into the stone floor. Perhaps the mage has been practicing for this moment.
“We have the sacrifice.”
One of the robed figures steps forward dragging an unconscious Eli into the center of the circle. The elf’s head lolls forward against his chest.
The mage smiles. “And where did you find this one?”
“Sneaking around outside.”
The mage snaps his fingers. Eli’s eyes flutter and he wakes with a stream of epithets for the Order. The mage silences him with an invisible gag. Eli’s arms are bound likewise by magic to his sides. His face turns purple as he tries to fight them.
“The sacrifice is ready. All we need is your word,” the mage says across the room, to a man seated in a plush chair. The man is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. They look to one another in unease but avoid the gaze of their king.
The king asks, “Is he a traitor to the kingdom?”
The mage nods gravely. “Your guardsmen will recognize him from the prisons. He only escaped recently. Among his outstanding charges are public indecency, resisting arrest, belligerent drunkenness, and treason. He has been spreading the lies of the rebellion and causing unrest amongst your people. And I believe the punishment in Tyven for treason is death?”
The king strokes his beard in thought. “And if you make this sacrifice, my wife will return?”
The mage nods again. “Returned to full life as if she had never left. She will feel as though she was ill for a long time but won’t remember her death.”
A pained look appears on the king’s face. He coughs to cover it.
“Very well. I grant you permission to proceed.”
It might be a trick of the light but you think you see the mage’s eyes flash red. He smiles and rubs his hands together.
“Looks like this is the end for you,” he says to Eli, pulling a dagger from his robes.
Eli’s eyes bulge with fear at the sight of the weapon.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to gut you. Too bad Jasper’s not here to see you die.”
He raises the dagger and begins to chant. The candles in the room flare brighter and a wind stirs though there are no open windows. If you do nothing Eli is going to be sacrificed, but do you stand a chance against a room full of mages and
three of the king’s guards?
Run.
Save Eli.
You let Vale leave, trusting for whatever reason the faun’s warning. The faun nods sagely. “Follow him.”
You follow Vale down the hallway and up a spiral staircase. At the top you follow him along a corridor and up another short flight of stairs, where he enters a stone archway draped with black curtains.
It is dark beyond the archway, offering you plenty of room to hide. You see a room filled with robed figures, along with some guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles like those in Vale’s room are placed on different surfaces and in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a familiar circular symbol carved into the stone floor. Perhaps Vale has been practicing for this moment.
“We have the sacrifice.”
One of the robed figures steps forward dragging an unconscious Eli into the center of the circle. The elf’s head lolls forward against his chest.
Vale smiles. “And where did you find this one?”
“Sneaking around outside.”
Vale snaps his fingers. Eli’s eyes flutter and he wakes with a stream of epithets for the Order. Vale silences him with an invisible gag. Eli’s arms are bound likewise by magic to his sides. His face turns purple as he struggles.
“The sacrifice is ready. All we need is your word,” Vale says across the room, to a man seated in a plush chair. He is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. They look to one another in unease but avoid the gaze of their king.