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Another Trial and another damn bust.
It was surprising, but even Sable’s own grisly death could lose its shine once in a while.
What could she say? It was hard to get excited by by the thrill of her own bloody demise when it came after wrangling her teammates and having her ritual interrupted three times over.
Now she was the last Survivor standing and the Killer was all too keen to offer her up on a silver platter to their eldritch overlord.
Pelting through the silent trees and knotted under-brush, Sable’s heart rate climbed higher and higher; the Killer’s footsteps growing closer with each laboured gasp. Sable had to get away, she had to put as much distance between them as possible. The Hatch had to be around here somewhere.
Sable rounded a corner before a mechanical click and whirr sealed her fate.
Son of a bitch!
The ghastly visage of a skull drone bathed Sable in orange light; jaw shuddering open with a shriek of rusted metal as it launched a claw trap at the fleeing Survivor . Crying with shock as the device embedded itself in her side; Sable fought back her panicked breaths as she scrabbled at the trap, trying to pry the jaws from her skin as she ran.
Unfortunately, the locked metal prongs burrowing down to the muscle proved too stubborn and to o distracting. Tasting blood in her mouth as she yanked at the trap, Sable swerved past a particularly gnarled tree and felt, to her horror, her feet tangle in the twisted roots. The ground greeted Sable with a dazing thud , the wind being knocked from the goth’s body with a wheeze.
“Ugh- how disappointing,” came the Skull Merchant’s mocking voice from between the trees as Sable tried to pull herself up, “I was hoping you’d put up more than just a token effort Miss Ward.”
T he footsteps following her came to a dreadful halt. Pneumatics hissed and a blood-stained boot buried itself under her side; Sa ble yelping with pain as the instep pushed against the claw trap.
B eing flipped onto her back with all the dignity of a beached whale, Sable looked up at her soon-to-be murderer. As she slipped her radar back into its pouch, Sable swore she saw the Merchant’s face crease into a look of pitiless mirth. Sable only needed to see so much of it to be able to tell that.
“Was your little gang of reprobates having an off-day?” she goaded, planting her boot firmly against Sable’s stomach, “You barely put up any fight at all. It’s tiresome.”
S able contemplated trying to wriggle away. The Skull Merchant was stronger than her but maybe she could catch her off-guard? Maybe there was some other way out of this?
The Merchant groaned in frustration, the pistons in her blade-arm thrumming as she readied to strike, “ Tsk - manners of an ape, every last one of you-”
Watching as the Skull Merchant raise her weapon, twin blades shimmering in the cold light, a desperate solution bubbled to the surface of Sable’s mind.
“W-wait-hang on-” Sable stammered, thanking whatever twisted luck had let her face a Killer that could be reasoned with, “It doesn’t have to be like this-”
The Skull Merchant paused, brow furrowing with incredulity.
“What are you talking about? Of course this is how it ends,” she snapped, “I win, you lose. End of story.”
Sable swallowed hard, “Or, well- we’ve got some spare time on our hands-”
Reaching her trembling hands down, Sable grasped at the hem of her tattered skirt. With a deliberately slow, teasing motion, Sable hitched the fabric up and over her thighs; allowing the Merchant the tiniest glance of her black lace panties.
“You said it yourself ma’am; you’re the winner here,” Sable gasped, forcing her fear back down and taking on a faux-coquettish tone, “Don’t you want to enjoy your prize a little?”
T here was silence in the darkened glade as Sable’s offer hung in the air. She carefully studied what she could see of the Skull Merchant’s face, gears turning behind startling blue eyes.
A moment passed and a hollow laugh echoed from within the Merchant’s mask before a clawed, jewellery-studded hand reached down and latched onto the embroidered fronting of Sable’s corset. Being pulled to her feet with barely a drop of effort, Sable shivered with anticipation as the Merchant backed her against a tree.
“Vulgar little thing, aren’t you?” the Skull Merchant taunted as she pushed a leg between Sable’s thighs, “What would those precious girlfriends of yours say if they saw you like this?”
Sable swallowed hard once again, stomach tying itself in knots.
They’d understand. She’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Keep it together Sable.
Opening her mouth to respond, Sable felt her words die in her throat as the Merchant raised her weapon again. With a howl of machinery, the twin blades found their mark either side of Sable’s neck; the scrap-metal cross-guard practically choking her as the blade-arm pinned her to the tree. Dangling from the tree trunk, her body only supported by the weapon and the Skull Merchant’s knee; Sable writhed in place, looking for all the world like a taxidermied insect.
“Having second thoughts?” the Merchant snarled, pressing her knee hard into Sable’s crotch, “Pathetic.”
“N-no, I just-” Sable sputtered out, every breath a battle as the metal crushed her windpipe.
With that same rich, infuriating chuckle Sable had heard far too many times for her liking, the Skull Merchant planted her empty hand on Sable’s thigh. A fine, razor-edged pain burst into life as the Merchant raked her metal claws along the pale flesh; each with the cruelty of a skinning knife as she cut a path to the apex of Sable’s thighs.
Head spinning and vision spotting, Sable’s wriggling stilled as she felt those viscous claws play across the seat of her underwear.
“Now, let’s see here,” the Merchant purred, hooking a clawed finger under the crotch of her panties before tearing the lacy fabric apart, “Just as I expected, you’re already wet, you filthy creature.”
Sable bit the inside of her cheek. Sometimes being a nightmare fetishist was a difficult cross to bear.
With another taunting laugh, the Skull Merchant flicked her wrist and delivered three devastating swats to Sable’s uncovered pussy; the Killer giving Sable nothing but her harshest of blows. Sable’s consciousness swirled as the Merchant wrung a shriek from her body; the goth sacrificing oxygen she could barely afford to loose. Sable’s slick began drooling from her slit as the Merchant rubbed her knuckles through her labia; splashes staining her bloodied jumpsuit.
“Ridiculous little thing. Getting so wet after I’ve barely touched you,” she chided, Sable shaking as she felt cold metal brush against her clit, “Was it the pain? The thought of me skewering you like the disgusting pig you are?”
Sable tried to shake her head but the makeshift metal vice holding her in place barely allowed for movement, the goth only able to waste more of her rapidly running out air as the Merchant began teasing the sharp edge of a claw over her clit.
“Was that your plan then? Throw the Trial so you could offer yourself to me?” the Merchant said, Sable wailing as her sore bud was squeezed between two claws, “Think becoming my pet could spare you?”
The masochistic bliss grew hard and fast as the Skull Merchant ground the textured metal into Sable’s clit; spit drooling onto the cross-guard as the goth panted and moaned. Her captor was as merciless when it came to sex as she was with Trials, Sable’s clit throbbing and swelling under the Merchant’s torture; the precipice of a messy climax rapidly approaching between her bleeding thighs.
“Ah- I don’t think so.”
The pleasurable agony shining bright in her pussy vanished as the Merchant quickly pulled her hand back; Sable letting out a choked sob at the denial. The stagnant air stung against her swollen, throbbing bud; Sable’s desperation clear in the ever growing smear of slick on the Skull Merchant’s leg.
As Sable’s orgasm faded rapidly from view, the Merchant laughed heartlessly, “ You forgetting who’s in charge here, pig? You think a bad girl get s to cum so quickly?”
Reaching her slick-coated hand up, the Skull Merchant seized Sable’s tongue between her thumb and forefinger. Blood welled up where the claws pierced the muscle and Sable let out a strangled, muffled howl; the taste of blood, slick and steel hitting her senses like a shotgun blast.
“You want to cum?” the Merchant crowed, giving a tug on Sable’s tongue as blood trickled down her wrist, raising her thigh to press flush against her sopping pussy, “Do it yourself, pig.”
Needing no further prompting, Sable began grinding herself against the Killer’s leg; chasing her orgasm with a trembling desperation, every rut sending sparks of shrieking agony down her nerves. The Skull Merchant watched her impassively, keeping a tight grip on her prey’s tongue.
“That’s it pig- hump my leg like the filthy slut you are,” she growled, pack-ice eyes watching Sable with a predator’s patience, “Grind that disgusting cunt raw.”
Sable humped her thigh over and over; vision fraying and heartbeat roaring as she chased her orgasm with a slutty single-mindedness. She barely noticed as the Skull Merchant let go of her tongue, barely noticed as she pulled her twin-blade from the tree. The Skull Merchant laughed one final time as she latched on to Sable’s neck with her clawed hand and pulled back her thigh.
Sobbing at the stinging of another ruined orgasm, Sable weakly writhed against the tree; the Merchant supporting her shaking form with only the clawed hand now crushing her throat. Sable choked out salty, bloody drool as darkness tore chunks from her vision.
Is-is she gonna strangle me? I can’t-I need to breathe-
Pneumatics hissed. Ribs shattered.
A star of furious, mind-bending pain exploded Sable’s chest as the blade-arm found its mark just below her sternum. A hideous pause gave Sable just enough time to feel the fluttering of her lungs against the steel before the Merchant drove the twin blades down; unseaming the goth from the chest to the apex of her thighs. A wellspring of boiling blood erupted from Sable’s mouth as she felt cold air caress her shredded intestines; the stinging, burning and splitting feelings excruciating as she was carelessly dropped to the ground.
Sable felt one last rush of thick, coagulating blood before her hands started to go numb; body growing colder by the moment as the twisted silhouettes of insectile limbs began crawling from the shadows.
“Your little gambit was the wrong choice Miss Ward,” the Merchant mocked as the Entity’s claws shrouded Sable’s mangled form, the Killer wiping the blood from her twin-blade, “Good pets know not to disappoint me after all.”