Awake in a world of nightmares, Anton struggles to maintain his sanity against the creatures torturing the populace.
Do you understand the reason yet, rabbit?
, Young Adult 20-29
, Body Exploration
, Mouth Play
, New World Order
, Vore Characters:
Amazon (7 ft. to 15 ft.), Brobdnignagian (51 ft. to 100 ft.), Giant (31 ft. to 50 ft.), Giga (1 mi. to 100 mi.), Mega (501 ft. to 5279 ft.), Mini GTS (16-30ft), Titan (101 ft. to 500 ft.)Shrink:
F/f, F/m, FF/f, FF/mWarnings:
February 26 2019 Updated:
March 27 2019
1. House Hunting by Macsquizzy
2. The Grumblies by Macsquizzy
3. Knight to E 3 by Macsquizzy
House Hunting by Macsquizzy
It was uncomfortable, hard. A little jagged. Shifting with his eyes closed against the pain in his back. When Anton finally managed to open them the sight he beheld was.... confusing. Above was a strange, dark purple sky with glowing red clouds occasionally spitting yellow lightning. Cracked pavement, that’s what he was laying on. Sitting up, it looked like some kind of public park. Well, their remains at least. Gnarled trees he didn’t recognize, a bike, rusted, strewn in the dirt. Missing its front wheel of course. Buildings in the distance, cracked, chunks gouged out of a few. Some covered in strange dark lichen that seemed to shimmer with a pulse. This whole thing gave him a bad vibe. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, How’d he get here? What happened? He couldn’t remember anything.
Getting to his feet, it was hard not to notice the eerie stillness of the air. It all made the hairs on his neck stand up. The walking path he’d found himself on was edged by scraggly, vicious looking grass. Sparse and spiny, the dirt in between was sickly looking. Brown with black patches, or as far as he could tell in the odd light of this place. A little dim but not dark. Walking up to the bike he found a rusty stain on the ground beneath it, like a very old bloodstain. He didn’t doubt that’s what it was, There was something under the bike. Lifting it carefully a knife glinted as the metal squeaked badly, all the bearings shot. Equally old dried blood caked the blade. A short, stabbing thing with a peeling rubberized grip. Anton grabbed it, rolling it around to feel the weight and check for any major damage. In a place this creepy he’d probably need it. No sheath though.
He thought he heard something in the distance, barely audible, but he was sure it sounded like a scream. Mixed with something... else. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable. The few trees around barely had any leaves, and the ones they did were black and oily looking. Though he feared what might be lurking in those buildings, he headed towards them anyways. Houses from the looks of it, and an apartment building nearby. It bothered him that he might be heading towards that scream, though it was hard to tell.
He approached the first house, a sort of townhouse with stairs heading up to it’s front door. It’s walls attached to those beside it. Two stories tall, narrow. He ducked beside the stairs, at least it was some cover to let himself think about what to do. The windows were somewhat intact, though they had chips and cracks. It was strange, it’s like they were slowly falling apart. Dying. it didn’t make any sense but it’s the only way he could describe it. Like the buildings, the pavement, everything was slowly rotting away.
He decided he should at least try to check inside. Beige curtains blocked any view through the windows. The first step creaked miserably when he pressed on it, the others weren’t much different. The formerly cream door looked damaged, maybe he could open it? Twisting the handle, it was unlocked! Or couldn’t be locked anymore when he looked more closely. The splinters around the deadbolt and latch made it stick a little, crunching as he pushed it open as long shards of wood peeled back against the frame. So much noise, but... out here... it was like he could feel some hidden danger watching him. He couldn’t stop.
Inside was as dark as he would’ve guessed. Light filtered in through the curtains but only a bit. To his left was a family area with a couch, loveseat and chair. A long dead TV on a stand, some bare end tables and a coffee table. Behind that a short hallway with a door at the very end and what looked like a nook on the right. On the right wall was a place for your coat, following it forward there was an archway leading somewhere brighter with checkered linoleum. Flanked by a short wall where an empty picture frame hung. Following that around, stairs to the second floor. On the left at the top the railing overhung the small, nooked hallway.
It all showed the same strange rot as everything else.
A low rumble outside startled him. Frantically he closed the door and darted behind the couch. The darkness his security blanket. Another rumble, louder, closer, it vibrated the floor slightly before ebbing away. Another, closer still, footsteps!? Whatever it was sounded pretty big, even with the curtains pulled he didn’t feel hidden. The next rattled items on the walls, compelling him deeper into the house. Heading towards the stairs until the sudden darkness made him freeze in shock. The light filtering from some of the windows was cut out with a loud, muffled crunch. The house vibrated, that picture frame clattered on the floor.
The shuddering stopped for a few seconds before another, longer vibration echoed through the place. Anton ducked back behind the couch, pressing himself against it, not daring to expose himself to whatever beast was outside. Light painted the walls again, filtering through the local dust community. It hasn’t seen this much excitement in forever. Anton didn’t move, he could hear breathing. Soft, steady, but horrifically amplified by the titanic scale. Then another slow vibration removed the light again. He held his breath before a sudden shock pressed it out of him. Readying for death as the next... weaker...? It’s moving away! He tried to calm himself with slow, quiet breaths as the next bounce confirmed it. But stress and panic seemed to seep out of the air of this place.
He needed supplies.
This originally started off as Soul Food chapter 5, but it was so long and such a massive departure from Liara's playful Giga-Tera sadism and mind games that I decided to spin it off and expand it into it's own entire story.
I'm relatively happy with this chapter. I think I did the scene with the creature approaching the house pretty well and the "dust community" metaphor was pretty decent. If there's anything I don't like it's that I felt compelled to describe the house layout in one shot so the audience wouldn't feel like I was creating features for plot convenience later. At least it's just one paragraph of description but I'm sure there's a way to do it a little more organically.
It felt a little clunky given I ripped it out of part of SF-5 and had to rejigger it to be its own thing. So I feel the intro suffered a bit for it. I have to make it all fit with the stuff that happens later. Stuff that I hope you guys will really like but legitimately made me a little scared of my own home during the nights I was writing it. Never had that happen before.
Reviews are more than welcome, if there's anything you like and you want me to keep doing, tell me. If there's things you didn't like or mistakes, tell me.
The Grumblies by Macsquizzy
Skulking up the stairs, knife at the ready for all the good it would do him. The rumbling footsteps continued to withdraw into the distance. Spying a common area over the last steps. A bathroom, office, and a room he couldn’t quite see into had their doors open. Taking the last few steps as another dull, beastly crunch made the chandelier sway gently. It was still close, staying in the neighbourhood maybe. But he dared to scavenge. The door to the office did not squeak, thank fucking God! Anton beelined for the small corner desk, brushing his hand over the MDF’s fake wood grain. It was slightly higher quality than a telemarketer’s cubicle. The one right side drawer was locked, its shiny silver lock plate mocking him. He could break it easily, but not as easily as that creature could break this house if it heard him. It’s shuffling was still vibrating his feet as he moved onto the night table being used as a cabinet on the left.
The two drawers were more bare than his hopes but less then his memory. He tried, but all there was were vague feelings that he had a life before this, and his name. A piece of paper inside gave few insights. It looked like someone had used it to hash out some plan for themselves, done some math, drawn a crude map of some part of the house maybe. All he could tell is they seemed to have been in the same situation as him. He didn’t want to think about where they could be now.
There was a light jacket bunched in the corner. Putting it on to take the chill off his shoulders, his cold hands dug into the wide, deep pockets... a key! It clicked easily in the desk lock. Inside was the holiest of holy’s, a loaded .45 calibre pistol with two extra magazines. Holy fucking shit! He might even be able to take the eyes out of that beast with this if he had to. It fit snugly in his right jacket pocket, the spare mags tucked in the left.
The bathroom was simple, a medicine cabinet over the sink with a broken mirror and a tiny bathtub with no curtain. He left lucky with a full bottle of painkillers. Odd that someone would leave it behind. Same with the gun, what’s with that? At least he has them now. The other open door led to a girls bedroom from the looks of it. Other than maybe the cloth in the bedding it had nothing useful. There was one last room, though it’s door was closed.
No keyholes, and he couldn’t get himself low enough to see through the bottom. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side, might as well take a look. Twisting the knob, the door groaned belligerently as he inched it open a millimetre at a time. Mixing the door’s protests with the ambient creaking of the sick home. Masking them to any distant listeners, he hoped, as he peered through the widening slice. Back of a dresser, large bed, clothes or something on the floor, a window... with no curtains...
It showed a view of across the way where he came from. What he saw made his heart sink and his stomach curl up into a little ball and die. Outside, facing away from him, on all fours, was an immense demoness. Busy inspecting a house on the other side of the park, looking in through the second story window. She would certainly be more than twice it’s height when standing. A long, powerful tail with a black tip swished back and forth behind her, telegraphing her curiosity. Brownish red skin like dried blood. Long and rather exotic ears twitching with frightening dexterity. Straight, jet black hair spilled over her back. Totally naked, that was clear. But what disturbed him most was what she held loosely in her right hand. The mangled, still quivering body of a person barely the size of her thumb, if that. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. Not that it mattered, they were still alive, somehow. Missing an arm, covered in blood, their whole frame deformed grotesquely. The creatures hand was drenched in blood, but she didn’t seem to mind.
His body was behind the door before he even noticed. Hiding like the cockroach he surely was to her. The realization that she had been looking in here earlier chilled him deeply. Would he be in it’s other hand now if he’d stayed outside even a second longer? He dared not touch the door again.
Those ears hadn’t looked like they were just for show. Furling and unfurling like chinese war fans, rotating, curving and straightening at will. Three white barbs on each winking in and out of view. Retractable like cat claws. A perfect accessory to the black ones on her fingers. God what was her face like? That thing was a predator. Hunting for food or pleasure he couldn’t tell yet. Anton stayed in the anteway between the rooms, the soft kinetic burbling of it shifting was oddly soothing. Eventually, she seemed to get up and saunter away.
Though before she did there was a sickening wet crunch... It seemed she was hunting for food after all.
Anton’s stomach reluctantly admitted that it needed something to eat too. Carefully lifting himself, he realized he had to pass the door to get to the stairs. Peeking in, nothing, she was definitely gone. He inched the door back closed before moving to the stairs. Step by step, trying to remember which ones had creaked on the way up, he made his way down. Halfway down a table with some chairs were visible through that archway. The kitchen probably. Well lit, probably no blinds on a window in there either. As he got to the bottom his blood froze, a dull shadow passed on the floor.
It had a tail.
I feel like I did a lot better with my descriptions this time. Still not perfect but more organic than chapter one. I very much like the creature I designed and I hope I painted a decent enough picture of it that wasn’t overwhelming.
This story has a number of horror influences, which I’ll list as they become either relevant or non spoilery.
First up, “Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead”. I can’t go into the specifics yet, people might’ve already noticed the overall CDDA vibe if they know the game. Or will now that I’ve mentioned it.
Secondly, a point and click adventure game called “Scratches” that I HIGHLY recommend you play. Or at least watch a playthrough of. If you know the game, I wonder if you can tell what specific inspiration I took so far? Tell me in a review.
Knight to E 3 by Macsquizzy
A human sized one!? He walked right by that doorway, how did he not notice!?
That thing must know he’s in here, it must’ve heard him open and close the door, squeak up the stairs. There’s no way it didn’t. Unless... unless it entered the house after all that. Like, maybe... while he was upstairs? Yeah, maybe that’s what happened. That’s why he wouldn’t’ve noticed before. Besides, he doesn’t know if there’s any holes in the walls or anything else it could’ve come through. Maybe he still has a chance. He has a gun, but with that giant one somewhere outside there’s no way in hell he’d use it. Those ears... the knife is still his best bet. Ugggg that means getting in close. The claws on the big one were terrifying, if this one’s the same it’ll probably just tear him to pieces.
The shadow moved again, bringing him back to the present. The tail swishing idly. It looked like it was facing away from the doorway, leaning with its elbows on a counter maybe. He didn’t care why. It just meant his stomach would have to stay hungry. Silently, reluctantly, he stepped off the stairs. Making his way around the right side to the small hallway. A couple other doors were here, Would’ve been nice to check them out. There was also the small nook that was maybe where you’d put a table with a key dish or something.
pat... pat... pat... ... ...
Oh goddammit! Anton slipped into the empty nook, clutching the knife to his chest to quiet his lungs.
pat... pat... shhhk... ... tack... ... ... pat... ... ...
Sparkling fairies did the Macarena with his eyes to taunt him about the breath cowering in his throat.
squik... ... tack... ... squik... ... squak... ... tick... ...
Upstairs!? He still has a chance! Waiting more agonizing seconds until it stepped solidly on the second level, strolling softly in the common area, It was time to move. Maybe there’s a better way out than the front door in the kitchen, or something he can grab quick. Slowly, quietly peeking his head around the corner. Moving along the wall like a shadow, knife drawn, checking the balcony above. Peeking up the stairs with his heart between his teeth... nothing. It’s shuffling both worried and inspired him. Either not knowing or not caring that he could hear.
From here there were no obvious entrances in view through the archway. Tiptoeing swiftly through it, no time to check corners, he stepped silently onto the cold linoleum. Well that’s where all the light was coming from. A bare window embedded in the top of a door showed the backyard, overgrown with that dark grass with a single dead tree in the corner. There were a few bright coloured things, a large ball, a child’s playhouse caked in grime. Did she come in this way? Does that mean this door won’t squeak? The grass and shrubbery were quite thick, thick enough to hide in. His fingers danced over the knob... then pulled away. He couldn’t do it. Manoeuvring himself to hide his shadow he paused to think. Looking at the front window, the beige drapes weren’t great at blocking light. That’s what she was facing. Shit, he’d looked right in there on the outside...
He heard another series of soft rumbles in the distance, they said it was time to leave.
Skulking to the archway, Anton pressed himself to the right side. He listened, but all he could hear was the odd crunch outside. Not really getting closer or further away, just walking around in the area it seemed. The small one had gone silent on purpose, he was sure of it. But there wasn’t much choice so he peeked out the doorway, the stairs were clear as best as he could tell. But the other side of the door was a blindspot. Steadying himself he prepared for a fight. Taking a slow quiet breath he readied the knife and stepped through the doorway.
Reactively whipping out his arm in a stab at throat level as he swung left around the corner. But nothing was there. Eyes darted quickly around the room, catching a shadow to his left.
It was on the wall.
Covering his mouth with one hand, gripping his wrist with the other. The knife lay harmlessly on the floor. Its face was entirely too close to his. Gleaming a smile of daggers the colour of a toothpaste ad. It’s... her weight pressing into him. His shoulders and back crushed against the wooden floorboards...
“Ssshhhhhhhhh...” She whispered as his free hand started to tense. Flicking her tail playfully,“You don’t want her to hear us do you?” Her sharp pupils flexed with interest and something else unsettling. Rimmed with a pencil thin intense green iris. Almost neon coloured. Inlaid in a rich gold sclera flecked with brown. And all he could think was “How the hell’d she do that?”
A slight shudder rippled into his back, flickering at his heart. His arms shook, her eyes dared him to try it. His responded with confusion, anger. Pressing harder into him, gripping her fingertips tight into his skin. Her very bare chest squashed into his. Strands of black hair brushing across his cheeks as she spoke.
“Imagine how much trouble you’d be in... if she heard you.” Squeezing his wrist painfully to make sure he got the message, Jarring his cute brown eyes. Her little piece of cake with sprinkles on it...
Another, stronger rumble outside drove the point into his brain with a railroad spike. Anton relaxed... obediently. Gritting his teeth as her ears flitted open, smile widening.
“Good boooooy...” she whispered patronizingly. Uncupping his mouth, sweeping her fingers through his embarrassingly average chestnut hair. Scritching his head affectionately, her sheathed claws still hurt a little. “Now... I’m sure you understand that things are going to end very badly for one of us.”
A sharp crunch vibrated into his spine. Absorbing the shock for her. Flickering shadows were starting to fleck the walls.
“But if you keep being a good boy... I promise... I will make it quick and painless for you.”
I was going through a good deal of burnout the week I was working on this. I was very lucky that this was still part of the 8 chapter or so raw buffer of The Punished that I only needed to polish rather than write from scratch. Though I rewrote this to the degree that I might as well have written it from scratch anyways. The burnout at the time came from spending literally every day without exception doing nothing but work for the previous four or five weeks. After awhile I think my mind just melted. So the week of this chapter was being spent largely recovering as best as I could while still making sure I met my various deadlines.
I think that affected this chapter a little. I had trouble making sure I built anticipation and tension. I went over the scene of Anton stabbing the air many times. Originally I had more detail about where the creature was and how she took him down but I felt like it was better to take all that out. I’d written in that Anton was confused about it and I thought leaving most of the details out put readers more in his mind, where he only quickly see’s that it’s “on the wall” and then the rest is just a blank that leaves him confused.
I wanted to put in a lot of Anton’s thought process of why he did or didn’t do certain things but I took a lot of it out too because I felt like it was making the reading too dry. I didn’t want his decisions to seem arbitrary or purposely stupid, but at the same time I wanted the audience to try piecing it together themselves. I figured complaints I might get would be “why didn’t he just run out the front door?” or “Why didn’t he try to hide in the backyard?” especially. And although readers could’ve put together reasons themselves for these things, if I left them totally blank I figured it might feel contrived or fake. It’s a delicate balance that I need to get used to for horror themes especially.
I also rewrote Anton’s character in this chapter to be a lot more capable and proactive than what he was in the original Soul Food version. Given that he’s more of an actual character than a fetish fantasy punching bag or whatever now. I mean, I could’ve kept him the same way as before and just changed his character development a bit but I’ve changed so much about what The Punished is that it just didn’t seem right. I figure most people would probably act a little more scared than Anton is, but then again, some wouldn’t. It all really depends.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.