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A dark and violent re-telling of a classic tale by Pahn & Kalab
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Blackentel was a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a forest inadequately named Black Briar. While everything along the large eastern river were bushes and wild roses, the northern and western parts of the village were surrounded by a thick and dark forest, where even the bravest of men did not dare step out of the beaten path to hunt game. The century-old trees, mostly spruce and pine trees, created a thick canopy that filtered very little sunlight. Only during winter did it clear up, despite the high levels of snow. North-eastern of the village was a huge manor, some said it was abandoned because no one ever seemed to go there or come back from it. Folklore legends and spooky stories had spawned from the imagination of those who ventured close, whispers about a beast and screams that would tear your eardrums. Of course none of them were really founded -- who really believed in some mysterious beast that lived in an ancient manor?
The people of Blackentel originated from a group of settlers who followed the original lord who owned the mansion. Not much is known about the history of the village, but many believe the townspeople were once the servants of the enigmatic lord and had followed him and his family into the heart of the wilderness to build a trading settlement: a trade post, perhaps, for those travelling the river. There was a quaint port with two boats, one for fishing and one for crossing the river. A long time ago there had been a village on the other side too, but now only ruins and unfarmable lands remained. It was another bit of history that sparked imagination and every tale about what had happened there was even more ridiculous than the last. The village elders held firmly onto strange celebrations surrounding seasonal changes, every new generation of them following through peculiar rituals without question. They usually lived on the outskirts of the village, deeper in the forest, and it was very strange indeed that their homes were passed down to the next elder in line when they passed away.
One of those elders, Mrs. Grimaulk, lived in the further cottage, not far from the manor. She had surpassed her companions and was now over eighty years of age -- she had seen many winters, but somehow this one felt like it would be the coldest and would bring death on the doorsteps of the people of Blackentel. The old woman felt it in her bones and within her soul: a tragedy would fall upon their village, and there would be no going back.
Rosamund Norbella was not afraid of the forest.
The young woman travelled through it multiple times a month, and once a month during the winter, to care after the lovely old lady who had gifted her the cloak she wore. Mrs. Grimaulk was the closest thing she had to family left, and Rose loved her dearly like she was her own grandmother. The young people her age didn't quite understand Rose's dedication to caring after the elderly, most thought it was a waste of time, perhaps an excuse to avoid getting married and having a family of her own. She ignored those and silently swore she would never suffer the same fate as her mother: bringing a new life into this world only to have her own taken away.
Late fall was her favourite time of the year. The colour of the leaves, the smell from the frozen morning dew, how warm the sun felt on her ivory skin. This particular day was overcast though, with little bits of rain across the village, but she didn't let that deter her enthusiasm: no, Rose rarely found herself affected by negative bearings, no matter what life threw at her. She was heading out for her second visit of the month to Mrs. Grimaulk's (whom she actually called Granny) with a hand-woven basket containing vegetables, dried meat, and bread. She rarely walked off the beaten paths, and when she was surrounded by the towering conifers, it brought her a pleasant sense of serenity, and made her wonder how anyone could be legitimately afraid of such a haven.
The walk itself took about an hour, if she didn’t get distracted by all the marvellous things nature had to offer her creative mind. Strange tree branches, a lost mitten or hat, small animals -- anything was a perfect opportunity to stop and fantasize about invisible worlds and things one could only find in story books. It would be well into the late afternoon by the time she got to Granny’s, but she didn’t mind and the elderly woman was aware of her little adventures. Her cottage was deep in the forest, and off the beaten path -- but Rose didn’t mind, the creepy and smothering dim light caused by the heavy canopy was like a blanket from the real world and Rose was simply in a magical place where nothing but Granny, herself, and small animals existed. In its own strange way, it was comforting and familiar.
The young woman had taken longer than usual on her way to the cottage, picking out the last remaining flowers from a curious late-blooming bush of wild roses. Those would smell wonderful when Granny would light up the fireplace, and she figured the old woman would appreciate a little bit of colour in her home.
Rosamund Norbella should probably have known there was something wrong when she didn’t see any light in the cottage despite the smoke filtering out of the chimney. It was not uncommon for Granny to take naps early in the evening and simply sleep for longer than planned, but it the natural darkness of the forest would still make her keep a few gas lamps burning while she slept. Alas, Rose kept humming her little tune like any other day, and knocked twice before opening the unlocked door of Mrs. Grimaulk’s home.
”Hello Granny! It’s me, Rose. I hope I’m not waking you up…”
A soft smile still lingering on her delicate face, the young woman closed the door behind her, engulfing herself in the darkness that filled the little cottage.
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[fieldbox=HUNGRY, red, solid]
Hungry eyes peered from the dark forest into the quaint little village. The eyes searched through the people that roamed back and forth through the streets looking for a single red cloak. He could smell her. Even through the myriad of scents that floated to him on the autumn breeze, he could smell her. A scent so familiar to him. He had been watching her for weeks, possibly months. He knows where she goes and when she goes. He would see her soon, and there she was. He grabbed his genitals reflexively and squeezed. He exhaled long and slow before dropping down to all fours and backing deeper into the thicker brush and briar.
Today would be their day. It would be days before they noticed her gone. He had been watching and planning. The beast was cunning and calculating. He knew just where he would take her. He knew just where he could make her his with no one to come to her rescue. He would be waiting.
He knew that he should leave now but found it so hard to turn his eyes from her. Her scent still drifted to him feeding his lust for her. His inner animal screamed to take her now but the beast was not dumb. He knew if he took her this close to the village that they would hunt him. He knew that they could not kill him but they would make things complicated. There was a better way.
Reluctantly he turned from her and stalked off deeper into the forest before turning and traveling parallel with the girl. He moved quickly but surprisingly silent for a beast his size. He stayed low on all fours to make himself even more harder to see. It wasn’t long before the small cottage came into view. He knew the door would be open for him because the old hag would be waiting for the girl. He slipped in through the front door and heard a voice from the bedroom almost immediately. ”Rose dear? Is that you already? I wasn’t expecting you so soon. You’ve shown up early and caught an old lady napping.”
The wolf entered her room low then lept up onto her bed just as she started to sit up. He backhanded her with a massive clawed hand that was easily as big as her head laying her back down in her bed. He placed his hand on her head and with the other, he ripped the front of her night clothes from her body. Without a moment’s hesitation, the beast buried his elongated muzzle into the belly of the old woman. His sharp teeth and powerful jaws easily tore through the aged flesh of her torso and into her tasty insides. She screamed for the first time.
The famished beast tore into her, first eating the tender organs from her belly before moving on to the wiry meat that clung to her bones. The old lady had screamed for only a few minutes before her injuries became too much for her but for the aging grandma. It had seemed like an eternity.
The beast had not eaten in days and make quick work of the old woman and was quite messy in his rush. The bed had become of pool of crimson with splotches and splatters covering the floor and most every wal. Even the low ceiling had not been safe from being painted with the old woman’s blood. Even her larger bones were not safe from the wolf’s hunger. What was left of the old woman when he was finished could hardly be recognized as human if it weren’t for her head. Even it had been gnawed upon rendering her unrecognizable.
Once he had his fill of the cottage’s occupant, he doused the lights and waited. He sat in the dark remembering how extra succulent the scent of the young female had been this morning to him. He grew impatient as he waited for her. She should have been there by now. He was at the point of going find her in the forest and deal with the consequences of abducting her openly then he heard her. He heard her familiar sweet little voice humming a familiar tune. He backed against a wall that would be safe from the light when she opened the door.
And then a knock and the door opened to reveal her. Saliva mixed with the blood of the old woman dripped excessively from his half open maw and from his tongue as he licked his bloody lips. He was erect almost immediately at the sight of her. This moment had dominated his thoughts for what seemed like an eternity at this moment and here it was.
The moment the door closed plunging them into darkness, the wolf was upon her. He grabbed her by the throat and forced her back against the closed door. His night vision was impeccable and he could clearly see the terror etched across her face. His muzzle moved close to her face as he sniffed her and then around next to her ear. A growl erupted from him that eerily took the form of a word. ”Silence!” The claws of his free hand easily ripped through the skirt part of her dress so that he could force his hand between her thighs. Her scent wafted up to him causing his hips to jerk involuntarily. He licked upward from her jawline to her forehead. He could easily imagine her tender body wrapped around his throbbing shaft, a throbbing shaft that pressed against her exposed thigh right this moment. His actions and condition left no doubt of his intentions with her.[/fieldbox]
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A Smell of Terror
As soon as the door was closed behind her, Rosamund was overwhelmed by a strong, coppery smell. Strangely similar to that of a butcher's shop on a slaughter day. She didn't remember Granny ever butchering an animal inside, but it was quite cold outside and the old woman was not getting young. Her brows still drew in together in confusion when she took a step forward, and then all air left her lungs when
something gripped her throat and threw her against the cold wooden door.
It felt like the entire cottage shook with her, the creak of resistance from the door echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Until she heard
him smell her.
It went all too fast for Rose. The sudden smell of copper was even stronger now, it was on this beast's breath as he exhaled on her face. She wanted to throw up from the disgust that flooded her, but his hand on her throat made any return of fluids impossible. A purely animalistic growl tore through the numbing thump of her own pulse caused the young woman to gasp, inadvertently inhaling another huff of the metallic smell.
A scream crawled it's way towards the back of her mouth, her lips parted in terror, until
he spoke. Pure terror paralyzed her and she didn't even attempt to stop him from ripping her skirts.
What is it doing? It did not take her long to figure it out.
Rose may have been a prude and inexperienced, but she knew what that throbbing hardness was on her thigh. She was still blinded by the darkness, petrified by shock and horror, and so it was impossible for her to look down to confirm her assumption. The woman could not turn away either when something wet and foul slathered half of her face.
Oh no... The mix of blood and saliva nauseated her and she tried to jerk her face away in a sudden moment of lucidity, but the rest of her body did not follow. The grip on her throat was not deadly, and it only seemed to want to keep her restrained.
Before she could help it, a muffled sob escaped from her otherwise quiet body which had the effect of shaking her out of the stupor.
Hands shot to the beasts's own hand on her throat and she tried to pull it away, kick him wherever she could reach. But the more she wiggled around to free herself, the more she felt the beast press himself against her. Or maybe that was just a trick from her imagination?
Filled with dread, Rose felt the hard member inch dangerously close to her most intimate region, and suddenly the shame of her own exposed flesh left her panting and whimpering.
"P-please! Let m-me go!" Her voice was low and uneven, her throat tight with both his hands and the fear that felt like time had stopped. All thoughts of her Granny were gone. At some point her mind acknowledged that the smell was Mrs. Grimaulk's, and that the beast had been waiting for her arrival. She had walked right into his trap, a trap she would have had no way to escape considering she had to sleep the night. Where would she sleep now? The realization that she may be living her last moment dawned on Rose, and a shaky breath later, her lungs expanded and a loud shriek aimed at absolutely no one tore through the small cottage.
Who would hear her anyway? They were miles from the small town, the closest thing was the strange mansion.
Rosamund's face contorted in a cry of desperation, and it was over as soon as it had started. Her small body was shaking from shock while tears escaped her wide open eyes. Today, Rose thought, today was the day she would die in a bloody mess and be robbed of her virtue by nothing more than a savage beast.
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[fieldbox=LUST, crimson, solid]
For months he had watched her. He had watched her in her village and outside the safety of its boundaries. He had watched and waited. He had waited for the time to be right. His lust had grown so that it could no longer be contained. Now was that time whether it be right or not.Now she was here at his mercy. At the mercy of a merciless beast.
His lust for her had grown over the past months that his focus blocked out all else.For him, the scent of her sex overwhelmed even the aroma of blood the permeated the air within the room. He would not take her here up against the door. That would be too…, too human. He was not human. He was Wolf and he would fuck her like a wolf.
With a growl of intimidation, the beast tossed the girl Across the room and through the draped opening that led to grandma’s room. There was very little of the room that was not covered with a coat of the old woman’s blood or entrails. The girl would have been hard pressed not to have ended up covered in the remains of the old woman when she landed in the other room.
Suddenly the drapes that veiled the entrance into the room were ripped away and the huge beast filled the hole. He literally had to duck to enter the room. He looked down at the barely clothed girl on the floor and then to the bed where the old woman had once slept. The bed was colored crimson with the blood of the old woman and bits of her that had not been devoured by the beast were scattered about on top of the sheet.
With a growl, he closed the distance between him and the girl in a blink of an eye. In the next instant his huge hand was once again around the throat of the girl and he lifted her and tossed her down onto the bloody bed. There was nothing gentle about the actions of the wolf. He feared no repercussions for his actions. He knew the girl was no match for his strength as he tossed her about like a rag doll.
He flipped her over onto her stomach forcing her face into the bloody sheets and tore off what was left of her dress and any other clothing that might be covering her. He then pulled her hips back to meet him and forced the engorged head of his shaft into her tiny entrance. His girth immediately stretched her beyond her limits as he forced his way deeper inside her.
He grunted with every thrust of his hips as he forced his way deeper into her determined for her to take all of him. His claws dug into her tender flesh as his grip tightened. Now her blood mixed with that of the old woman’s on the drenched sheets. His heavy balls slapped the back of her thighs as his knotted cock tore at her pristine pussy.[/fieldbox]
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Crimson Carnage
In this moment of absolute terror, Rose had forgotten all about Mrs. Grimaulk. The old woman seemed to be from another world, a place where beasts like this one did not rape and kill young women like her. For a wild moment Rose thought she must have stepped into another universe entirely much similar to her own; that would have been the only explanation.
Until the repugnant smell of blood and innards reached her nose. The beast had thrown her into what she knew to be Mrs. Grimaulk's room, her feet slipping and tripping, and the violent stench hit her like a punch in the gut. Her hands were suddenly wet and sticky and something was coating her knees and legs as she struggled to get back to her feet. Her efforts were in vain; the beast's growl caused her to tremble in distraught before he even took hold of her again. His clawed hand pressed on her throat dangerously, but if he had been trying to silence her it was a useless endeavour: the muscles in her neck seemed to be paralyzed in fear and shock, barely allowing the girl to breathe as it were.
If Rosamund had any intellect left in the moment she hit into the blood-soaked bed, it had entirely fled in the deepest corners of her mind. Without haste her face was pressed into the mattress, and for a second she struggled to breathe through the blood and a couple of discarded bones were pressing against her ribs. In a desperate attempt to flee, Rose reached somewhere in front of her for anything that might help or distract the beast. The remaining of her dress was shredded away by his sharp claws, leaving the young woman completely naked and covered in Mrs. Grimaulk's blood.
Before her quest for something to take hold of could even begin, he grabbed her hips and in that instant everything was pain.
"N-no..." Her sobbed plea was whimpered in a choke of searing pain. Rose knew it wasn't supposed to be this awful, but his cock was much larger than any normal man's. Uncontrollable sobs made the blood in her face sputter from her lips and come to life with her tears, but it only seemed to encourage him. She had never felt so violated in her entire life.
Being a virgin, Rose wasn't entirely sure how the whole process was in regards to sex; so once the beast hilted himself inside her, tearing and breaking more than just her inner walls, she thought it would be over soon. Then the thrusting began. In a completely irrational moment she wondered if the old woman's blood would make less friction, but then the scalding torture of her womanhood continued and if her throat hadn't been so tight from fright, she might have hurled any remaining food in her stomach.
Just when the young woman thought her body was becoming numb from the ordeal, he clawed her tender skin, and in a frenzied second she hoped he would pierce deep enough to kill her sooner. Alas, the wound was nothing compared to the continued assault of her womanhood, especially when she felt his cock grow thicker and break her walls thoroughly. Unable to keep up with the excruciating pain and completely dizzied by it and the stench of blood, Rose's eyes looked up in hope to find some kind of mental release. When she saw Mrs. Grimaulk's bloody head on the edge of the bed, wobbling in rhythm to the beast's thrusting, Rosamund's eyes fluttered shut and her face fell flat into the blood-soaked sheets, staining her tear-streaked face.
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[fieldbox=NO HOPE, red, solid]
A single light shines in a sea of darkness. The flame of a single candle dances alone. Many would see that single light as a sign of hope when they are alone in the darkness. In many cases they would be right, but this is not such a case. She is in the darkness but she is not alone. The little light that does exist only illuminates the horrors that surround her. The flickering light causes the shadows to dance in the darkness. It gives the features on the dead face of Mrs. Grimaulk the illusion of continuously changing as if she were still alive despite her shredded condition. The light’s only purpose here is to illuminate a scene of horror. He is oblivious to it all. He only knows self gratification.
The beast continues to pound his lupine cock into her well after she has gone limp in his grasp. It is only after he has dumped his vile seed into her that he releases her and lets her slide down off from his length onto the dirty bed. He leans down to sniff her before licking the fresh blood that flows from the wounds left by his claws. He flips her over onto her back. A single one of her breasts falls exposed from the tattered remains of her dress. The beast stares down at the shallow rise and fall of her breast indicating that she still lives. This means nothing to the creature who then leans down to lick her exposed nipple. His snout then moves upward to her face where he smells the shallow breath escaping her. It is then that he truly understands that she still lives.
Normally whether she lived or not would not concern him. He had achieved release and would just devour her remains whether she be live or dead. This one had been different. He had stalked her while craving to taste her purity. Purity was a rarity in this age where some many females were deflowered long before they reached sexual maturity. He had lusted for her for weeks and now he had her. He had thought that in his lust fueled frenzy that he had ended her before he could truly get his full fill of her pleasures but now he realises different. This excites him.
The beast, though feral, is not completely without thought and reasoning. He knows that to defile her again, here and now, would surely mean her end. To truly reap the benefits of her surviving his initial assault, she will need time to heal. The solution is simplistic, he will take her with him, but they must not know that he was here or they will hunt him.
He lifts her, cradling her under one arm then turns to leave with her. He sees the oil lamp sitting on the dining table in the kitchen as he leaves the room. He returns to the room with the lamp and throws it against the wall over the candle. The corner of the room erupts into an inferno. The flames spread quickly over the old timbers that made up the old woman’s home. The wolf bolted from the cottage with the female still limp under his arm. He turned to look back from the forest’s edge to see the cottage quickly becoming engulfed by the flames. He only watched for a moment before vanishing into the thick underbrush.
For a creature of his size and bulk, he moved amazingly fast through the thick foliage. His thick matted fur protected him from the multitude of branched and thorns that tore at him. The girl’s ass and the back of her legs would not be so lucky as well as any other portion of her flesh exposed to the lashings of the forest’s underbrush. It was not long before he spotted his lair come into view over the trees as the forest began to thin. His castle fortress sat high on the crest of a rise looming over the village in the valley below.
He entered the massive foyer and roared his arrival. Numerous red eyes appeared in the darkness around the foyer’s perimeter as the sound of his roar continued to echo throughout the castle’s many corridors. The eyes followed their master, their alpha, as he strolled boldly down the foyer’s center with his recent acquisition. They could smell the blood and they could smell her sex. Both aromas pulled at them, urging them forward to get their own taste but they did not act on these urges. A greater emotion held them at bay. Fear. They feared the wrath of the alpha should they desecrate his property, the bloody female. They knew that to do so would be death, and not a quick merciful death.
Once through the foyer, the beast traveled upward through corridors and stairwells. He eventually arrived at a room in one of the castle’s many towers. In this room was a bed in which he tossed the limp body of the female onto. He paused for a moment as his eyes wandered up and down the length of her exposed flesh. He pulled at his cock and grunted before leaving the room. He would have his way with several of the female wolves that populated his lair before his lust would be sated.
Several hours later, the sound of a latch being disengaged would sound through the door of the room containing the girl. A human male entered the room carrying firewood under one arm and a large pail of water with the other. He ignored the woman and moved towards the large fireplace where he set the bucket down and began to stack the wood inside the large opening. Working with practiced precision, it was not log before the man had a fire started. While still quite small, there was no doubt that it would grow. He emptied the pail of water into a large cast iron pot hanging over the fire.
The man then left the room and returned less than a half hour later with another load of wood and yet another pail of water with the addition of a pile of cloth draped over his shoulder. He dropped the wood on the floor near the fireplace and poured the water into the pot. He then walked towards the bed and the woman laying on top the bed’s covers. He laid the cloth down on the bed next to her. The cloth turned out to be several rags for cleaning and a gown. He began to strip the shredded garments from the seemingly unconscious woman.[/fieldbox]
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Morning Pains
In her delirious dreams of pain and fear, Rosamund saw no light which she go towards to and instead attempted to fight the realization that she was not dead. Nothing made sense and everything hurt, hurt so bad that the young woman wished she were indeed dead. She was completely unaware of the entire trip from Mrs. Grimaulk's house to the beast's lair, and even as her consciousness was fighting to return she didn't understand what was happening. Why wasn't he killing her? Why had he chosen her? All those questions made Rose's head hurt, so it wasn't very long until a deep sleep claimed her.
The loud sound of a door latch tickled her mind awake, but just like before she felt so much pain all at once that even opening her eyes seemed impossible. There was a nasty taste of copper in the back of her mouth, so opening it was not a good idea especially with how tight her throat felt. Through the throbbing agony of her body, Rose listened to the person move about the room. She suddenly felt the chilled coldness of the room, and had she been able to the young woman would have shivered. Soon enough though she smelled and heard a fire cracking, and a small wave of relief washed over her. Maybe she had been saved from the savage beast after all!
Sill unable to move or do much else but lie there with a new sliver of hope that burned with the fire, Rose listened to the person and everything they did. The sound of an empty container being filled with water reminded her how thirsty she was, and for a crazy second she almost asked out loud to have water. But before she could do any such thing, the person left the room and the tightness in Rose's throat spread to her chest. Having no sense of time, it felt like hours before they returned, and heavy things were dropped and more water was poured. Her chest was moving up and down with difficulty, and even when the person began undressing her she had no strength or will to move. She was safe anyway and the sane part of her mind acknowledge that she did have wounds everywhere that needed to be treated. Her virtue had already been stolen, she had nothing left to lose now.
The remaining fabric on her body were soaked and crusted with blood, and every single piece being removed was a torment in itself. The skin of her breasts felt stiff with welts, and with the new awareness of her body being fully exposed with re-opened wounds there was nothing Rose could do to stop the guttural groan of pain. The muscles of her face contorted into a grotesque expression that pulled out a sepuchral howl, this time loud enough to shake the young woman awake. Bloodstained eyelids flew open only to reveal bloodshot eyes. Rose coughed from the dryness of her throat that seemed to make her tongue too large for her mouth, and because the coppery taste was still lingering.
"Wa... ter..." The young woman's eyes rolled back to show bloodshot whiteness, gasping for air while her body finally went through the tremors of pain it had been holding back while she was unconscious. Her skin all over felt stiff and the small cuts on the back of her thighs and on her ass suddenly burned back to life. Fresh tears trailed new paths amidst the crimson smudges on her cheeks and a dry sob choked out from her mouth. It lasted for all of a minute perhaps then her body tensed into a foetal position but her knees couldn't reach even halfway up. Rose looked like a mistreated and beaten rag doll and it took all her might to open her eyes again and to look at the handsome man who had been fussing around the room for the past hour.
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