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Hello. Thank you for checking out my filthy story. I do not usually share what I write, I hope perhaps others can find enjoyment herein. Please be warned that this story contains extremely graphic scenes of rape and death. I am not entirely certain where this story is going, but thus far it has been fun to pursue. I would enjoy hearing your thoughts and feedback, as I'm unaccustomed to publishing my works.

2.

Darkness enveloped the trees, here. Shadows from a full moon cast themselves over all, while everything held its own, dim light. Silence. Not a bird, not a cricket, even the leaves and grass scarcely dared to whisper.

Then a gasp. A heaving, gurgled rasping breath broke a silence near eternal. Alone in a clearing of the Blue Woods, Chiro fought to breathe.

His body shuddered and he vomited again and again, heaving up piss and semen onto the grass between desperate gasps for air. He remained on all fours, spitting and trembling, still dripping from both ends with his trousers around his knees. He remained like this for some time, his head ringing, his broken nose stinging, and his insides burning with pain. Shakily he reached back and gingerly touched his anus. It sang with pain at the slightest touch, and was still wide open. He checked his fingers - only white. No red. He breathed a sigh of relief. He spat again, then put a finger to each nostril, blowing out the slime from his airways.

Lying there on all fours, panting, every inch of him in pain, he frowned. Where was his shirt? His jacket? Where was... What had happened? This wasn't right.

"No, it's not."

Chiro started, rolling onto his side and grabbing at his trousers. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

There was no response. It was then he saw around him. He was in the same clearing. The grass was packed down as it had been from the deserters' camp, but no sign of their gear. He was in the same place, but it was both darker and lighter. The moon was full, now. It cast utterly, impenetrably black shadows, but it was as if every branch and leaf, every bush and trunk, everything was haloed by a dim blue light. The same blue light drifted between the trees, like a luminescent fog. Chiro laid on his side and sighed, his head on his arm. There didn't seem much point in getting dressed when you were dead.

"That's right." It was a woman's voice. Smooth, husky, playful.

Chiro began to weep again, recalling everything those men had done to him. The look on that man's face as he'd watched him choke and drown on his prick, the terror he'd felt when their intent had dawned on him. The helplessness. The malice in their eyes. They'd wanted him to scream.

"This world rarely sees evil like that of man," the voice spoke again. It was nonchalant and easy, and as Chiro glanced around he couldn't place a direction. It was as if the voice was inside his head.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly.

"I have heard enough of your screams, little one. Do not curse my ears with any more."

Before Chiro could respond, across the clearing, a great white wolf appeared. It stepped out from behind a tree, its eyes swirling between purple, green, blue, and orange, its fur impossibly white. Steadily it padded closer. Chiro winced as he swallowed, his throat still ached terribly. He shivered, but it was the cold. He felt no urge to scream; after what he had endured there was little he felt could terrify him in this moment. Although, as it approached, a fifteen-foot-tall white wolf was close.

"Good. No more screaming for you, little one. You are safe, now."

"I should hope so," Chiro chuckled hopelessly, trying to sit up, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Dead, yes," the voice said. He could hear her smile, though the wolf held no expression. It towered over him and peered down, its great black nose twitching. "A most... disgraceful death."

Chiro sighed. It wasn't as if he had to be told. Frustrated, he kicked his trousers off. He hated how they still made his legs feel restrained. "You saw it all, then?"

"I did."

"And you did nothing?"

The wolf tilted its head ever so slightly. "I did nothing. Had I done, you and I would not be speaking, and I rather wanted to meet you."

Chiro frowned. He tried to bury the indignation. This creature emanated power, the ground seemed to thrum under her enormous paws. But was it really worth it? Did she really have to allow him to undergo such an atrocity just to have an introduction? If she could have helped him, why not do so then kill him herself if she wanted to say 'hello' so badly?

"Silence."

Chiro found his mind... silenced. "That," she continued, "Would not be your path. You are the boy who fled the draft. A coward and a weakling. The very embodiment of ineptitude in all tasks set before you."

Chiro bit his lip. He didn't need this. He sat on his side, his asshole still bubbling his rapists' semen, his body still bruised and beaten. He didn't need reminding of his failures; if he needed that he only had to seek a five minute conversation with his fath--

"You spent most of your nights either reading of the accomplishments of great mages, or pleasuring yourself to thoughts of your own kin," she went on, the amusement in her voice more and more apparent. Chiro's face began to turn red both in anger and embarrassment. "Oh. The fantasy of your mother was quite inventive. Finding her in the stables pleasuring the stallions, only to have you chance upon her and put those stallions to shame." Chiro hung his head, pushing his fingers through his matted hair. The wolf's great nose hovered closer, sniffing only a few inches from his bare member. "Your fantasies were enhanced in many ways," the voice purred, "Though I must say, the one featuring your sister was most... ironic." Chiro tried to speak, but found he could not. "A sentiment of 'putting her in her place', I believe? Stealing into her room and forcing yourself upon her, her screams of protest melting into moans of ecstasy. Intruding such untold pleasure upon her that she begs you to rape her again, foregoing all the guards of your home estate for just one more taste of her brother."

He sighed. It seemed pointless to deny it at this stage. He was dead, and whatever this was seemed to be some kind of judgment for his sins. It was pathetic. He wondered if the circumstances of one's death might have any bearing on what level of hell such a waste of a soul deserved.

"Do not misunderstand, little one. I claim no judgment here. Your fantasies intrigue me. You bear hatred for your father, but have never wished harm upon him. In your own way, you seek to bring your sister to your side and bring her happiness, even if it takes force to tear her from her frequent liaisons. Your mother, you dream of finding depravity akin to yours in her, and sharing in it until she's quite insensate." The wolf's head was close to his now, and he stared helplessly into those whirling galaxies that served as its eyes. "Many a man in your position dreams of usurping his father, finding power to overtake, overthrow, to shatter his own chains of insecurity. Not you. You have an interesting potential, little one. A love of life, not death. That is why you are here."

Chiro swallowed, and felt the ability to speak again. "You want me for something."

"Yes!" the voice boomed, the wolf's eyes growing wide. "Yes, little one. I wish to see what your curious potential can do when provided the tools to see itself realised."

"You want something in return." Chiro said. He'd read about deals with devils before. A few stories had wizards that traded too much away for their power, and he wasn't ready to make that mistake, even if he was dead.

"Naturally," the voice purred. He felt the wolf's hot breath flowing over his naked chest. "Enact my will in the world. I promise that you will grow to enjoy it. Perform my bidding, and gain rewards fit to satiate all your hungers."

"And if I refuse?"

"I shall be saddened. Saddened that such a man would choose a death like this over my companionship. Refuse, and this is where you will stay. I am told the memories do not fade, here."

Chiro sighed again, and shakily got to his feet. He winced, feeling now cold fluids running down his legs. Devil or not, he'd take anything before being alone with these memories. "Tell me your name, then, that we may have an accord."

She breathed the word over him, and he collapsed.

"Enassif!"

---

3.

Chiro's eyes opened. He saw stars again, felt the breeze, and heard the susurration of trees and grass. He sat up. Around him the deserters' camp had been torn down, the campfire doused. The pain was gone. Merely the absence of all that internal agony felt good by contrast. And he was dry. He touched his face, feeling an unbroken nose, his face no longer stuck with cloying fluids. He pulled his trousers up and fastened them, then got to his feet. He was alive. It was difficult not to smile, knowing that if nothing else they had not gotten all they wanted from him.

"Your first task, little one," the voice cooed in his mind, "Avenge your horse. Elise was indeed a worthy mare to call one's only friend."

Chiro turned his head as he heard voices to the west. It was them, he had no doubt. They were laughing, jeering, singing songs. Celebrating their forthcoming pardon at his expense. Elise. In all the pain he'd forgotten, but he remembered now. He remembered her scream, seeing her stumble and fall and struggle with the arrow in her neck.

"How do I do it?" he asked the empty air, his hands balled into tight fists. Rage like he'd never felt boiled in his stomach.

"They will show you. Take heart, follow them. Demonstrate the bravery I know lies within."

He didn't know about bravery, but he'd died once. Standing alive, well, and unbloodied at the site of your own death; he felt untouchable. From the bushes around the small clearing, wolves appeared. All of them had their eyes west as they closed in around him, eight of them.

He didn't wait to be shown. He knew the wolves would not need him to tear these men apart, but he wanted his to be the first face they saw coming for them. He broke into a sprint. The wolves followed. The cool air whipped as his bare skin, he leapt over bushes and dodged around trees. They left such obvious tracks, tramping their way through the foliage. He could smell them. He could hear everything. His pace grew faster and faster, leaning forward into the wind while his gait grew. The wolves caught up. He could see them now, their heads level with his own, their eyes all fixed on the same prey. His pace only seemed to increase as he drew closer to the ground. Gods, he could taste their stink. It was like a wall of gloriously vibrant and equally disgusting scents that trailed behind them.

Then he saw the lantern light. He saw their stumbling shapes in the darkness, so clumsy and tall, their sad horses plodding along on their right. Chiro and his pack drove in for the kill. He snarled to get their attention, lest they not even hear them coming. He leapt and saw the whites of their eyes as they all spun and screamed. He had only one target: the one he had choked on. Chiro's jaws snapped shut around his throat, his weight barreling the man to the ground. They tumbled and without ceremony he tore out the man's throat. He spared only a moment to fix his eyes on his, to see that fear as he clutched at his opened neck, before he clamped his jaws around his crotch and tore off the man's murder weapon. He knew then what it felt like to die being unable to scream. Chiro spat the chunk of flesh and torn fabrics onto the man's chest.

The rest of the wolves landed on the men like a tide of jaws and fur, taking them down to the ground. He saw the shape of the leader and dove on him. The other wolf had his throat already, so he settled instead to tear off as much of his face as he could. In one bite, he halved the man's skull.

It was over in moments. The bloodied pack stood on and around the men as they gurgled their death-rattles, the horses braying in panic and rearing, but too broken to run from their masters. Chiro howled first, and the others followed.

---

The transformation back to human was unsettling, but not upsetting. Bones slid easily into their new shapes, skin reforming, his fur shedding from his body like grass in a breeze. He panted, on all fours once again with these men, but now very much the victor. He stood up in a circle of russet red fur that minutes ago was his own, regarded the wolves.

"Thank you," he said.

"They should thank you," Enassif's voice rang out happily in his mind, "They have not been led on a hunt such as this in some time. The mantle of alpha suits you. Leave them the horses. They'll not sully themselves with the flesh of these men. Go to your friend."

Chiro nodded, glancing at the horses as he left them to their fate. He couldn't bare to watch, he loved horses too much, but with his rape and murder avenged he could not deny the wolves a meal after a hunt. He braced himself for the sound of equine screams, but there were none. Their panic only fell silent, and their heavy bodies hit the ground.

He continued west. Elise's body was only a short distance away, close enough he could still hear the wolves eating. He knelt by her body, placing a hand on her neck near the arrow. The blood was black in the moonlight and congealed, her body cool to the touch. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he should bury her, but he had not the tools to dig a grave large and deep enough, nor the strength to place her in it with any dignity.

"Remove the arrow, little one."

He nodded, wiping tears from his eyes. He could at least do that for her. He winced as he gripped the arrow in one hand and the around the wound with the other. Even now he dreaded hurting her. He pulled the arrow. It was no military arrow, no triangular head. It slipped out with ease, but had gone so deep. He threw it away.

"I'm sorry, Elise," he whispered, leaning over her body.

"My little champion shall need a mount, and there are few finer. This shall be the last resurrection of my doing, little one." Chiro straightened, eyes wide in fearful hope. "The rest you shall have to perform yourself," Enassif giggled. Chiro blinked and in that swift moment heat returned to Elise's body. She stirred and he receded, watching in awe as the mare hauled herself upright again.

"Elise!" he croaked, and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. The mare only offered a disgruntled nicker at the forcefulness of the embrace. Chiro choked back tears as he looked over her, hands stroking over her coat, unable to believe such fortune could befall him. She whinnied softly as his hand caressed her neck and he found the small scar, as if the arrow had hit years ago. "I'll never let anything happen to you, girl," he said, sniffing as the tears abated. He was surprised he had any left tonight.

"See that you do not," Enassif chuckled, "Know that she is aware to whom she owes her life. She knows that you have saved her, little one."

"But, I-- I didn't do anything."

"You fought for her, and you won. She knows this. She will fight for you, too."

After spending some time enjoying Elise's company again and stowing away the brush he had dropped, he led her back to the bodies. Thankfully the wolves had dragged the horses away; he didn't want Elise to see that. However, sat in the center of the men's corpses was one of the wolves. The smallest one, its fur grey and eyes bright. It looked at him, as if expecting something, when Chiro heard Enassif's voice once more.

"Another companion. She shall be my conduit, for now." As the voice spoke, the wolf stood, and walked toward him with unnatural purpose, her steps deliberate and head held high. It was like seeing that giant wolf again, only in miniature. "But know that I cannot always share my presence. In times of my absence, keep her safe. I entrust her to you. Be safe, and be bold."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Chiro asked the wolf, but its intent left it. It sat quite innocently looking up at him, small for a wolf but larger than most dogs, and with all the demeanor of a quite domestic hound. "What should I do now?" There was no reply, and he looked between Elise and the wolf. He'd never had friends save for this mare, and now he had this new companion too, someone he'd hunted with. But with Enassif's voice silent, he began to feel vulnerable again, and remembered that he was naked. A chill ran through him.

---

He had fully tired of the scent of blood by the time he was finished. He took back his possessions from the deserters, and stripped the saddlebags from their horses' remains. He also made a point to outfit himself with a weapon. The leader had the best sword amongst them, a fine longsword with a red leather scabbard. Chiro had no idea how to use it, but better to have one than none at all. He also took the bow that had killed Elise, and the forty or so arrows. Altogether he gained near a week's worth of food, a couple of extra waterskins, a bedroll, and several extra saddlebags.

He paused before he departed, however. Here lay four pardons for his desertion. All he had to do was take anything that could identify them back to Cark, and his transgressions would be forgiven. Of course, then he'd be drafted, and that was dependent on the narrow possibility of his father caring about pardons. He shook his head, turned, and left them to rot.

A short way from the clearing he found his trousers and underwear. Scuffed, but not torn, thankfully. He put them on and his riding boots and looked toward the sky. It was beginning to turn to morning. Immediately he felt the fatigue of tonight's events crash over him. He led Elise and the wolf past the clearing, and found a small area by the cliff base to lie down, and fell asleep almost the moment his head touched the grass.