Violence, mild gore


Amari waited in the dark till she could hear the steady sound of her Master’s chest rising and falling. Good she thought as she swung her feet around and pushed herself off the bed. She padded over to the revealing outfit he forced her to wear on the first day she was bought here. Amari initially hated it, but she’d be lying if she said if its intricate pattern hadn’t grown on her. Her fingers danced across the lace before gripping it, and pulling it over her form. Amari headed over to her Masters large mirror. Her form was hugged tightly in the undergarments. She gave an approving nod. “This’ll do.” She turned on her heel and very carefully, silently unlocked all the locks he had and headed into the blistering cold.

The snowfall had stilled, the stars above twinkled in the clear night sky, but Amari didn’t have time to take in the scenery. Her feet burned at the cold touch of the snow, but she pressed on. She had been dragged through this snow naked, she had been forced to sleep without heat, without warmth - she had forgone food, and safety, she had been picked at, pulled apart and brutally tortured. She had felt the cold air against her bleeding membrane. So something like this was nothing to her now.

Amari’s first destination was the mess hall. She entered - and saw a man leaned over the table. Snoring loudly amidst a pile of ale. Her nose wrinkled and she gave a shiver of disgust. Amari shook her head, finding her resolve. This man. She knew this man. He was the first of many to defile her. He had pressed himself into her ass, without her permission. Her eyes burned with loathing as she approached him. Picking up a discarded serrated bread knife as she passed. “Hey…” She slid next to him, soft fingers dancing across his facial features. “I need you…” she crooned, but no reply came. “Tch…” Her tone immediately switched from sweetened honeyed tones to a darkness that rivaled Lyes. “Out cold.” She hissed. Elbowing him down to the floor. He fell with a thud onto his back.

Amari calmly approached him, undid the buckle on his pants and in a grating motion, began to saw off his dick. The man quickly woke - screaming. With a quick jerk the red headed woman tore the remaining ligaments of his cock apart from the rest of his body, she jammed it into his throat silencing him. He tried to writhe and push her off him - but it was clear he was in too much pain.

“Wha’ts wrong…?” She asked, brushing the back of her hand across his face. “I’m simply returning the favour…” His screams died down into a gurgle as he began choking on his own blood. His struggles grew weaker. Amari dropped the serrated knife. Her eyes landed on a spoon beside the writhing thugs head, and her eyes lit up. “Oh?” She picked it up, and without hesitation she jammed it into each of his eye sockets, popping out his eyeballs. Blood splayed across her face, stained her delicate thighs and soaked her hands - but it didn’t stop her. She pulled his eyes clean from his head.

“One down.”

She picked up the spoon and wiped it on his clothes. Amari stood, taking the eyes, rolling them round and around in her hands. “Now, where to put these…” She muttered. Glancing around the empty room, she found a jar - it appeared to have some sort of pickle in it. She tipped the contents out and dumped the eyes into it.

“23 to go.”

She turned to leave the hall, in the doorway stood a single Raven. It tilted its head to the side, and cawed inquisitively at her, Amari ignored it. Stepping over the black feathered bird to her next target.