Suddenly he was sucked back into limbo—then thrown right
back—only to hear the sounds of petrified screams. When Kye
could actually see again, he could see the girl trying
desperately to close the gaping neck wound of her lover. But his
eyes were blank and empty, dead. Dark crimson blood had dried on
his neck and the floor beneath him.
Big, cruel hands tore the amulet away and a rough, archaic
looking hammer smashed the stone. When that happened, Kye
watched as her back arched with pain and she screamed long and
loud, her eyes glassy and half wild.
She was torn from her lover’s side and gagged, tied, thrown
roughly over a man’s shoulder and taken into the wild, deep
woods that surrounded the small village.
The cat-like creature lay outside the gates, his head smashed.
Next to him was the mutilated and raped body of the second girl.
Kye stood in numb shock, in horror—then he started battering the
barrier that kept him from getting too close. Over and over,
until he fell back into limbo with a muttered curse on his lips,
his body aching from his useless war against the barrier.
When he returned, they were cutting her long black hair,
laughing at the outrage and humiliation in her eyes. Then they
oiled her head and shaved off the short locks that remained,
until her scalp gleamed naked and pale in the firelight.
Kye’s throat hurt from bellowing, and his fists hurt from
pounding on the barrier. Nausea, hot and sour, roiled in his
gut, but even the option of puking and ridding himself of this
vile feeling was gone. He bellowed out when the men threw her
nubile young body to the ground and molested her.
And always, always, after a few minutes, he was sucked back into
limbo. Weeks, maybe months passed. He kept track of time by how
long he had been gone, by how long her ebony hair had grown
since he had seen her last, how many bruises had faded, and how
many new ones appeared to take their place.
By day, the two men who had taken her traveled at a merciless
pace, sometimes carrying her, sometimes dragging her along
behind them. They beat her, molested her, and kept her bound and
gagged. The gag only came off when they had had to force feed
and hydrate her to keep her alive.
“What’s going on?” Kye whispered, trying to close his eyes
against the horror of them fondling her, beating her.
Her hair had grown probably half an inch before they shaved it
off again. That same night, they started to tend to her myriad
bruises and cuts. That same night, when she spat food in their
faces, they didn’t retaliate.
And that had a sickening fear growing in his belly.
They traveled north, until they left behind the woods for cold
gray mountains, higher and higher, until they reached a solid
stone fortress.
Inside the stone fortress, he followed, unable to keep more than
four or five yards distance between his ‘body’ and hers. Each
time he lagged, he was pulled forward, shoved forward, dragged,
by some unseen presence.
So he watched, helplessly, while they tied her weakened body to
a stone table, her legs spread wide, her hands tied beneath her
at an uncomfortable angle. Watched while they ordered a slim
young blonde woman, clad only in a metal collar, to trim her
pubic hair and wax her mound, until she was bare and gleaming
from the oil that had been used to soothe her reddened flesh.
One of the jailors threw the young blonde to the ground, mounted
her struggling body roughly and raped her while the other went
and slid his fingers over the listless woman’s naked mound and
inside her vagina, while he jacked off with his free hand, and
laughed at the revulsion in her eyes.
When he spewed her in the face with his semen, Kye shot to his
feet and swung out, feeling a snap, deep inside his hand, and
hearing a reverberating pop. It vibrated, in his mind, in his
chest, in the air that surrounded them. The men beyond the
barrier had paled, each pulling away and covering suddenly
flaccid cocks, eyes wildly searching.
The air around them still shuddered and the rage inside Kye
seemed to leak out and fill the room, filling it with rage and a
promise of retribution.
A feral smile curved Kye’s mouth and he sank back down to his
heels, watching.
They had heard him.
The barrier was growing thin.
So he watched as they scurried away, and waited.
As he rose some time later, he could feel himself falling again.
Back into the pain. Into the brutal biting teeth that tried to
tear his flesh from his bones, back into the blistering cold
winds, the painfully bright lights that stung his eyes and made
them water. The air was permeated with a burning, scorching
smell, and it nearly choked him as he fell into sleep.
And then he woke up.
From nothingness into this.
Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he hadn’t been hit by that car and
this was all a bizarre dream. Or maybe that car had really hit
him and he was in a deep coma. Did coma victims dream?
But he wasn’t dreaming.
Opening his eyes, he stared into a lilac sky, a lilac he had
only rarely seen in an unusual sunset at home.
And since the sun shining in his eyes was what had woken him, he
knew twilight was nowhere close.
Cautiously, he rose. And rose. And rose. Until he was standing
fully upright, a good foot and half taller than he should have
been, his body longer and paler and scarred. And, surprise,
surprise, completely nude. He lifted shaking hands in front of
his face and stared at the wide large palms, the fine reddish
gold hair sprinkled on the backs. He drove those unfamiliar
hands through his hair, receiving another shock when he felt,
then saw the dark red locks. As curly as Ashlyn’s had been after
she’d had a loose spiral perm put in her hair. It was a deep,
dark, pure red, darker than Ashlyn’s, a deep burgundy-red.
With a glance down, he confirmed everything else was different.
Instead of an average seven-inch cock, he had a good ten inches.
Instead of narrow, rather small feet, he had long, narrow feet.
Instead of a pale golden hue, his skin was winter white and
rippling with corded muscles.
“What in the fuck is going on? What am I doing here?” he
muttered. He hadn’t expected an answer.
And he never expected what it was that gave the answer.
“There was a…mix-up,” a deep, gruff, large voice said from
behind.
Slowly, Kye turned.
And looked up. And up. And up. Into glowing, deep red eyes—eyes
that looked like the stone the girl had worn around her neck. He
looked into those eyes, trying to understand what he was seeing.
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