All around the intruders, the insane cackling intensified. It resonated from all over, voices bouncing and echoing all around.

Kantsee cowered next to Nubs, trying to use his eyes to catch a glimpse of the ugly little Tu’i. They darted all over the place, looking for any residual traces of mana he could latch on to. Along with the resounding laughter that filled his ears, the red-eyed intruder could hear an odd sound. Just underneath the manic laughter, following it, were trembling, broken breaths.

He couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. Everything bounced and moved around them. He continued scanning the darkness, looking for traces of the enemy and the soft, frightened breathing. It continued to build in volume, disturbing in how it sounded wet and panicked. It felt as if the source were moving closer to him. The useless stumps on the vessel he had inhabited didn’t help. All sound around him grew distant, muffled, foreign. The only things he could hear were the manic laughter and the scared breathing.

He frantically continued his search, eyes darting around with tears threatening to spill, as the foreign fear built. Pain flared in his chest and it took a few seconds for Kantsee to make the connection. It resonated, building and tightening. To him it felt like he was stuck between a hydraulic press, pushing down on one specific spot. And the tightness steadily grew, twisting in on itself.

Kantsee fell to one of his short knees, hand pressed to his chest as he heaved. His bloodshot eyes bulged as they leaked a viscous mixture of tears and grey fluid. His gaze turned to his tortured family as his hearing returned. The flood of sound assaulted his senses as he fell over.

That wet panting, the muffled wheezing, was coming from him. This horrid sound was emanating from his slack jaw, drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. The borrowed lungs heaved under the pressure being exuded by the Tu’i.

All around him, his family moaned and wailed. Pitiful shrieks and pained cries filled the air.

One by one the intruders were toyed with as the sadistic Tu’i took his time dismantling and dissecting them.

Mr. Bel writhed where he lay, red and grey liquids leaking from mangled wounds. Listless, useless eyes stared off into the darkness as the Tu’i continually reopened his wounds, sending fresh shockwaves of pain emanating through his body. His pain was so great, reacting was impossible.

Little of Pink remained save for the head, with it’s large, bulbous lips. It still clung to life, unwillingly, unable to personally end itself. Out of the severed neck the grey liquid continued to ooze as the head of the lackey lifelessly squawked, like a fish out of water.

Nubs lay face down in a pool of his own blood and grey liquid. Where the liquid had once acted as his arms they were now a lifeless pool. Huge holes riddled his torso as the innards of the lackey were laid bare. Despite the mortal wounds he was still conscious, aware of each and every painful bite that Taha tore out of the body. He could still hear the wet splash of necrotic flesh being ripped each time the Tu’i passed by.

Floa lay a short distance from the head of Pink. Her tenderized fingers splayed out painfully, each digit broken at an unnatural angle. She was under the impression that the Tu’i was saving her. Every time he passed her he broke a finger, reveling in her squeaks and whimpers.

All of the intruders were able to remake themselves. All they needed was enough time to regenerate and recover. And the grey liquid was their true, amorphous forms. As long as it remained unhindered and intact they would continue to survive.

Unfortunately for them, the Tu’i who was currently torturing them was fully aware of this. And he was happy to have his very own everlasting cadavers that would regrow and stay alive.

___________________________________

Wanu watched in disgust as Taha enjoyed himself.

The little thing flitted all over the Tu’i grounds, jumping in and out of the shadowy domain that she had created for him.

Nima stood next to her, hands crossed in front of his chest as he watched the carnage.

“Vaha.” Wanu started, intense gaze still focused on the sacrifice of the foreign numen. “Who is Hiku?”

Nima chuckled and let a moment pass before answering. “You know who she is.”

Witnessing was a bothersome task. The edges of Wanu’s youthful eyes creased in frustration, both at having to be the witness and at Nima’s abstinence. “I don’t though.”

“Well, you’ll all remember soon enough.”

Nima continued to watch the one sided affair, noticing how gleeful Taha was when he was able to get the reaction he wanted out of the intruders. The little Tu’i enjoyed being able to feel powerful. Wanu continued to begrudgingly witness the desecration of the numen.

One by one Taha hopped back and forth at an astounding speed, melding with the shadows as he jumped in and out of sight. At one point the little man used the head of the intruder named Pink as a bludgeon against the one named Kantsee.

And throughout it all the intruders were forced to stay conscious and aware. Of the pain, the suffering, and the fear that the Tu’i could inflict.

Wanu continued her vigil, glowering all the while.

____________________________________

Hot flashes of yellow and white dotted Pinks vision as it was flung around. Given time it would have been able to completely regenerate, but the ugly little monster gave them none.

If it’s head had still been attached to its body it would have vomited from the constant spinning. The long, bloodstained nails of the Tu’i dug into the tender skin of Pink's face. Fresh blood and weak grey liquid leaked and coalesced around the nails.

Pink’s head was used in various imaginative ways to inflict as much pain as possible on its brethren.

Weakly, Pink tried to eke out words. Even though it no longer had the proper vocal structure to speak it still tried to say something. The large, bulbous lips were now a dull pink, a shell of its former appearance. They appeared deflated and lifeless, defeated. Spittle leaked out as it tried to plead with the sadistic Tu’i.

“Please.” Pink croaked weakly as fresh fissures appeared on its large lips. Without vocal chords, the words were coming from the dripping grey liquid. “Mercy.”

All around it the sound of laughter filled the darkened arena again as Taha stopped and held the head in front of him. The Tu’i cradled the head in the palm of his larger than average hands.

As if he were trying to lull a crying baby to sleep, the Tu’i used his long nails to lightly trace along the curves of the face. He leered at Pink as he did this, making cooing sounds that were interlaced with manic bursts of laughter.

“I don’t know what that means.” Taha answered, smiling from ear to ear as his form melded into the darkness again.

Pinks disembodied head tumbled, end over wet end as it sailed through the vanta black landscape. With a wet plop it’s face finally made contact with a hard surface, landing squarely on the right side of it’s head.

A groan issued from the grey liquid that had splattered around the head, less from the pain and more from the impact. It felt the impact through the senses of the head it still clung to, unable to attach itself to another physical form. Laying still and unable to move, a tear eked it’s way out of the intruder’s left eye. The tear pooled in the corner of its eye before slowly dribbling down and across the bridge of its nose.

Not far from where Pink’s head had landed Floa lay, eyes listlessly staring into the abyssal darkness. The pain that riddled her body continued to flair up, signs that the Tu’i continued to refuse her a moment of reprieve. The once viscous liquid that had acted as her legs now pooled beneath her, mixing with the blood of the cadaver she inhabited.

Her mangled hands were splayed out around her, fingers broken beyond repair. She tried to muster up strength to drag herself towards Pink. The darkness rendered her eyes useless but she could sense the leader of their group, just barely. The darkness felt wet and heavy.

Little by little she used the minuscule strength she had to inch closer to the leader. As she carefully slid her hands back, trying not to set off fresh waves of pain, her hands landed in a wet pool. She immediately recognized the feel of the liquid and hoarsely called out.

“Brat. Brat, can you hear me?” Her voice was weak and tremulous, the effort of speaking sent intense waves of pain through her mangled body.

All she received was a hollow whimper as an answer. For them, this was far worse than humiliation. The ignominy of being brought low by lessers would follow them. Even into the next stage.

“Brat. Help me.” She hoarsely whispered, voice cracking as fresh wounds were opened all along her body.

Floa whimpered as she realized that something was standing over her. It’s wet, drooling breaths stunk of blood and viscera. She could barely make out the form of the misshapen Tu’i, stooped above her as his long, snake-like tongue hung out of his mouth.

“Even if you’re a numen, I still prefer the females.” He cackled as he shuffled around her, bare feet slapping the ground.

She had no energy to resist. Time had ceased to matter as fresh fear spiked within her. Her wounds throbbed as fresh blood and grey liquid leaked from her open wounds.

The shuffling finally stopped as Taha’s deformed face floated into Floa’s field of view. Wide, predatory smile creasing his ugly face as he ran his long, clawed nails along her face.

“Fun time:).”