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Forever in the Underworld, chapter VII

"The end of my tale."

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The sorrow in my heart has dried away. I feel famished, but food does nothing to dampen my hunger. There is only one kind of nourishment that can replenish me. Pain burns within, and my mind battles with my body for control. Sometimes I give in to my desires and leave my shelter, but the moment I see them, sickness wells up in me. I feel like throwing up. They do not know how close to destruction they have been as I crawl away, more devoid of life now than upon arrival.

I blame my creator for the curse that is bestowed upon me. I am an impossibility. A paradox. I am not human. Not troll. I am neither. A beautiful shell filled with an unstructured mash of desires and compassion. It slowly drains my life away. Rendering me unable to seek remedy.

-----

After the fatal audience with the king, I fell into deep despair. I would not leave my home for days. When the pain became unbearable, I traveled through little used corridors to find my way outside. Numerous nights were spent hunting for innocent pray, but not even the most powerful of orgasms could still the panic in me. I used to think of myself as alone, but where I before had been gasping for air, I now sensed myself drowning.

It was this despair that woke the fatalism in me. It was impossible for me to be happy. I knew I could not bear to see my beloved in the hands of that awful troll. I would meet anything the world threw at me for a chance to break this life.

Surrender to fate was like a new beginning for me. It was as if someone had flipped a coin. Love turned to hate. Anger to calm. I used to carry a small hope of love, but knew I was denied bliss. Now, I felt a hope of some revenge, but at the same time knew that full retribution was far beyond reach.

Life returned to a kind of status quo. I ate, slept, did my duties and contemplated my revenge. My beauty was indeed not exaggerated, and often a troll would approach with improper suggestions. None of them were allowed the taste of my flesh. I would deny myself any form of fulfillment until eye was traded for eye.

I never saw Skuld again, but sometimes Burr would walk contently along a passage. I made sure whenever we passed by that he noticed me, and smiled to him, even though it sickened me to the core. He seemed puzzled at this for a while, and a bit confused. I knew this was my leverage and tried to use it for what it was worth. My new powers would make him want me. This would be my revenge. Gradually, his gloating face turned to bewilderment, and then to hunger. I noticed how, when he was looking at me, his eyes no longer met mine.

Skuld would never allow herself to give him the pleasure of a happy wife, that I knew. And now I tried to play the role of the unreachable seductress. I would make him see the irony and hate it. What he gave up the moment he ruined our lives and stole my girl. He yearned for me, the person he hated the most, and I could see he despised himself for it. Still, his male urges were easy for me to sway. Each time our paths crossed he sunk deeper into his own abyss. I thought that seeing him like this would make me, if not happy, then at least satisfied. But I realized that my own self-restraint was taking its toll. Using my guile depleted my own reserves. Normally that was no issue, but with this victim it was different. Without knowing it, I slowly put myself through the same torment as my enemy.

The game lasted for a while, and we both became increasingly desperate. I do not know which goal I was aiming for. I just enjoyed seeing his constant pain. But when I caught myself thinking about his strong, powerful body and what pleasures he could give me, I knew it had to end some time before it was too late. He was around my finger and could not think of anything else. I had achieved what I wanted but still I continued to arouse him. Every slight increase in his desperation gave me just a tiny fraction of pleasure. At least it made me feel a little alive. The only pleasure I could ever have. But that fraction continued to be surpassed by the greater increase in lust.

Inevitably I found out just how much he could take. I was actually surprised that he had not cracked before. Did he really hate me that much? He seemed to boil with conflict. He loathed me and loved me. Hated me and wanted me. That night I ran into him in a less frequented passage. He was loitering in the hall, seemingly just waiting for me to pass by. Before I managed to notice the strain in his body, he grabbed me and pulled me into a dark cave.

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What I saw in his eyes terrified me. There were no signs of hatred. No trace of lust. His pupils were just small pebbles in seas of yellow, drowning every ounce of sanity. He did not speak a word, just proceeded to tearing off my clothes as easily as if they were cobwebs. Finally, I noticed a dark part of me thinking. Did I want this?

It did not matter what I had aimed for. Nothing could resist this huge mountain of flesh and lust. The enormous bulge in his pants was unmistakably apparent. He tore off his own clothes and showed me the huge manhood. I had never before seen someone that big. But instead of frightening me it made me horny. I knew I wanted it. I had lusted for him a long time although I could not admit it. Finally, he would give me what I deserved. Maybe this was my fate. Punishment for my selfishness. I tried to make myself believe it.

He did not wait before taking his prize. As he tore open my moist crack with his erection, I screamed. The pain was immense, but the lust just as profound. I could feel my skin stretch to its limits, but did not mind. All I wanted was for him to fill my wet hole with his flesh. He drove himself deeper inside me and did not stop for a second, until he reached the end of my depths. His growl was deafening. Deep within him the terrible wave of tension broke and cascaded over my naked body. His hands held me firmly, boring sharp, long claws into my flesh.

Once more he pushed his phallus inside me. My body welcomed him and made his movements easier, but he was still too large for me. I writhed in pain and passion with each thrust. My eyes saw this huge monster above me furiously attacking my most sensitive reaches, but I failed to conceive the reality. His fervent energy seemed to seep into me and turned his onslaught into the most violent and intense sex I had ever experienced.

When he came and shot his semen against the walls of my inner caves I almost felt myself being hurled backwards. The pressure released from inside him was unbelievable. The energy in his thrusts never diminished as wave after wave of ejaculation filled me with his seed. I accepted his load willingly and let it flow into my deepest recesses. As I came and drifted into emptiness, I caught a last glimpse of the room around me, past the enormous black shadow covering my body. The doorway seemed like a shining crescent in the blackness. Silhouetted against the dim light was a frail shape impossible not to recognize. The slender curves and fiery hair was a sight I had seen in a thousand dreams and for a short, happy time in reality.

When I came to myself I could see the heaving chest of my assailant lying on the floor beside me, lost in the bliss of fatigue. The half limp penis was slouching to the side still dripping with the mixture of juices and semen. Skuld was nowhere to be seen, but I was relieved. I could not bear to see her now. Shame and sorrow overwhelmed me and sent rivers of tears down my cheeks. Barely able to walk, I staggered out of the room, not sparing a thought for the torn heap of clothes left behind. As quickly as I could, I stumbled along the passage towards free air. I did not know whether it was day or night, and did not care. Everything was better than facing reality. With waning strength I pushed aside the stone blocking the exit and found myself running through the wilderness, never looking back.

-----

The darkness increases and surrounds me. I gasp for air and struggle against the overwhelming pressure. All movement is arduous as if I am submerged in water. Thick, murky bog-water, reeking of upturned earth and decaying plants. I look upwards as I sink into this emptiness, and search for the little speck of light. I see it and reach upwards, but all I achieve is my hand blocking the light. Something wet streaks my cheeks. I do not know whether it is tears or blood. I suspect the latter. I have not been able to cry for months.

The pressure increases and it feels as if my bones and organs have been reduced to pulp. The light is everything I see and I focus all attention on it. Will it stronger. Will it larger. But it remains hovering over me like the moon. Always present. Shining its cold light upon me, but forever just out of reach. My heart that once pounded with love and passion, now resemble the soft footsteps of a nightly predator. With every beat the light fades until there is nothing left. I am not sorry. This is my final gift to her.

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Written by Dividence
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