Famulus was a long read. And, by the time I am done with it and moving up to get the sword for Implementum, the howling and taunts have already begun.

"Come out and die, Scourge!" comes from the door, amid furious pounding.

"Emerge and I will show you such pleasure as you've never experienced before your inevitable demise!" from a bewitching, supple Other pressing their tits against the window and licking it with a long tongue, spit trail slowly falling down. I tear my eyes away, dick burning with arousal.

The voice of a little girl, echoes, "Come out and play, Mr Scourgy! Meet my other toys!"

"I will open you up and-"

I walk deeper into the house, to the armory, thankfully leaving their voices behind.

I grab my sword, in case I need it for the Implementum ritual, and start heading back to the basement.

"Come out and let me rip your soul apart!"

"I, Aelfane, challenge you to a duel, Practitioner against Other, like the olden times. Should you win, we will leave you be!"

I pass them again, going down the marble stairs at a gallop.

I enter the library and set the sword down next to the pool.

One hand on the floor, grabbing the lip of the pool, the other extended, trying to drag Implementum. With the tip of my fingers, I push it to me bit by bit.

After a few moments, I have the book in hand. The cover is worn, unidentifiable gunk stuck to it in several places, most of the gold lettering long gone. I open it and start perusing its contents, eyes hurting a bit from all the reading done today.

I, the author of this book, have spelled it so some details in the ritual are changed to grievously injure those who attempt it. If you are seeing this message, it means that you are eligible to read this safely. But, first you must complete the ritual outlined at the end of this message to dispel the wards. Once you finish reading, please use the other diagram to protect it again.

Heeding the warning and stopping at the drawings of the circles, I go and grab the piece of chalk I used for awakening.

I begin drawing and after some of the lines have been drawn, it starts to take shape. Some kind of wheel or Ouroboros. The snake eating its own tail, the diagram feeding into itself. Facing neither outward, nor inwards.

For the next step, the book says I need to sacrifice something valuable.

In the end, I decided to sacrifice three books that sounded important: Devils and Details, Curse Lifted, and Wu Zhen: Eastern Vodun Practices.

What should I do now? Burn them? An idea strikes me, something more fitting.

I throw them down at the pool.

I watch as the books float for a second, then ever so slowly start sinking.

That done, I start looking back at the book, checking to see if it is now unlocked.

But, that is when something explodes out of the pool and impacts my left leg.

The pain is intense, I feel as if my bone is throbbing. I look down desperately, trying to see what the fuck hit me. However, in that time, there is another geyser of water, another impact on my right arm. This time, I see it: a thin harpoon connected to a chain that disappears under the depths of the pool.

I hear the sound of gears clinking, machinery running. And, the chains start pulling, dragging me screaming, inch by inch to the black water.

A third one hits me in the shoulder and I almost blackout.

Desperately, I grab for the sword, with a mind to cut the chains and free myself.

The fourth one shoots out, but this time I am ready, I duck and seize the blade. Then, screaming in fear and rage, like a lunatic, I slice the harpoon attached to my shoulder. Thankfully, the chain slices like butter.

I can do this, two more to go. I can do this! I-

Three harpoons shoot out. One hits my other leg, the other pierces through my left forearm, and the last grazes one of my eyeballs, blinding me with white sparks and red on the right side.

The pain is too much. I can't think, can't do anything but wail like an infant in pain, crying from my one good eye and clutching the other.

By the time I am submerged, I am still screaming incoherently, and water enters my lungs, making me choke.

My body spins, flips, and moves in every direction under the influence of strong water currents.

Eventually, I am spat out of the water and into the air. Seconds later, I crash, face-first into a stone floor.

I lie there, bloody, unmoving. I try telling my body to get up, but it had a mind of its own, warning me not to get up with pain signals. Slowly, I start to accumulate willpower, banking it piece by piece into some internal part of me until I have enough to get up. All the while, rain falls down on me, cold as ice, robbing the little warmth remaining on my body.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I push myself up with my hands, forearm, and arm flaring with sharp pain.

I don't think I have the strength nor the time to cut the chains, so I go for the next best option: pulling the harpoons out. One by one, I pull the thin rods out. It is torture I wouldn't wish on the worst of my enemies. Some of the spikes pull out chunks of meat with them.

When I am finished, I stagger up from my sitting position and attempt to gauge my surroundings.

Half my vision is black and from the other, I see a primitive stone floor similar to that of the library. It is illuminated by a set of flickering lightbulbs attached to the crumbling walls of a flight of marble stairs some meters in front of me. The rest is darkness in every direction--no ceiling, no walls, just pure, undiluted darkness extending into what seems like infinity.

Like the rain, the dark pressed me down, having a weight that made me want to crawl instead of walk.

Shivering, clothes heavy from water weight, providing zero insulation, fixing the sword and scabbard to my hip, I started limping up the stairs.

There were sets of lights set at regular intervals up the spiraling stairways. Some were broken, while others spent just as much time off as on. They all shut down always when I least expected them to, plunging me into terrifying blindness.

The climb is long and arduous. Many times I think about just laying down and closing my eyes, may whatever happen happen. But, I persist; I can't die without at least making the fucker who caused all of this pay. Only one thing allows me to keep going: the litany of hate I keep repeating like a mantra in my head, Damn this, damn them, damn it all!

Panting, cold sweat bathing every inch of my body in its unpleasant embrace, I make it to the top step.

I am rewarded with the suicide-inducing sight of more cavern. However, this one seems different.

A profusion of garbage and mud lies scattered around the landscape, courtesy of the malfunctioning lights in the walls. Yes, this time I can see the walls of the cave a distance away, but not the ceiling.

Pieces of fences, deformed and broken; cars of every age, even those you'd see in black and white films; dead creatures, some fossil, others still rotting; shipping containers, corroded and opened; things I didn't even know existed decorate the floor in random arrangements.

For lack of something better to do, I move onwards.

Whenever I step on one of the patches of mud that crest and rise above the shallow puddles of black water, I see humps and ledges that suggest snakes, centipedes, squid tendrils, or crocodiles lurking with only traces of their bodies above the surface of the murk.

The mud felt like it wanted nothing more than to suck me down. It was a struggle to pull my feet out whenever I stepped on a particularly deep patch. And, It had leaked inside my jeans and socks--I felt things move inside.

I am leaning down to try to remove whatever bugs are moving up my leg, when a sound, metal rubbing against metal, coming from the right, sends a horrible shiver down my back. Slowly, afraid to look, I turn my head.

Some kind of woman, most of her body welded with metal pieces, and a triturating machine instead of a head. The thing still somehow looks straight at me. But, worse of all, at the bottom I see she has a massive phallus, metal spikes protruding out. I almost puke at the sight, unbidden memories surfacing, old wounds opening.

I waste no time; I immediately bolt away.

The triturating machine revs up in anger behind me. I don't look back.

Running is a difficult ordeal on account of the mud and I lose a sneaker in a particularly deep patch, but I run on, leaving it behind meter by meter. The horrid mechanical sound grows fainter and fainter. I-

From the mud, a grey, stitched hand shoots out and grabs my left leg. A strong yank follows, pulling the rug out of me.

A horrid maw and two green pinpoints of light follow, bursting out of the ground and aiming straight for my throat.

I block with one of my forearms and the female ghoul's teeth sink deep. Furious shaking, like some kind of rabid dog with a bone, ensues, my flesh getting torn apart to ribbons.

However, all the while, I've been reaching for my gun, and now that the creature stops, surprised for some reason, I shoot her point-blank in the head once, twice--until it explodes in a mess of black-green gore.

I push her body away, heart jackhammering, worried the machine-woman is in hot pursuit. And, I scramble desperately to my feet, tears filling my vision.

I run, even if I can't see shit, I run, wiping my eyes as I move. When they are clear, I see other ghouls, other creatures bursting out, crawling from everywhere--all coming for me.

I run like the devil, I run faster than Hussain Bolt, and I run faster than the flash, adrenaline making me forget all my injuries.
There! Another flight of stairs, this one straight.

I take the steps two at a time, monsters trailing after me, screaming, begging me to stop.

Even adrenaline can't fully take the toll of flying up a long stairway. My lungs are hellfire, my legs jelly. But, I do manage to clear them, bursting into a forest.

I consider hiding, but some of the Others I saw looked animalistic. There is no discounting the possibility that some of them might sniff me out, especially with all the blood on me.

So, I press further on into the dark forest. Incredibly, the screaming and voices grow fainter and fainter the deeper in I go. And, in due course, I see a clearing with a comely wood cabin.

I stop in front of the house, hands on my knees, catching my breath.

I consider knocking on the door but so far what I've seen of this place leads me to believe that I am in The Abyss and it won't contain anything good.

In the end, I decided to stop for sixty seconds. Hugging my stomach with both arms, back against a tree, head bowed, I closed my eyes. It feels positively blissful and just when I start thinking of ways to leave, maybe I can draw that diagram again? A terrible commotion comes from the house, sounds of motors revving, glass crashing.

My eyes fly open just as the door explodes outwards.

Two deformed hillbillys step out: one--the biggest and ugliest--with a chainsaw that vibrates with menace, the other--younger--with a wicked miner's pickaxe. They leer at me and rub at their crotches, laughing unnaturally, as if they had fishbones stuck in their obese throats.

"Stay back!" I scream, unsheathing my golden sword.

That gives them pause, sobering them up quite a bit, but they persist, inching closer.

"Listen to me, you deformed fucks!" I yell, my voice a humiliating high pitch. "I've killed monsters worse than you!"

They don't react, continuing their steady approach.

Then, trying to catch me by surprise, Pickaxe rushes me, swinging her bloody weapon with fearsome strength.

I attempt to meet it with my sword, going for a parry.

However, the blade cuts right through the wooden shaft, continuing on its deadly arc. The grotesque's fat neck, blue sparks flaring, a fountain of white-yellow, pestilent blood gushing out.

The hideous mockery of a human collapses to the ground convulsing.

One would think that at this moment, my heart would be soaring in elation, flaring with hope, but all I can feel is fear that my arms will make one small slip up and get torn apart.

The mother seeing the fall of her daughter disgorges a dreadful roar full of rage and anguish. It reverberates across the clearing and almost makes me piss my pants.

She charges at me so fast that the ground she was standing on detonates, earth flying. Her chainsaw is upon me a moment later, crashing violently against my sword, making my arms go numb. As the chain links collide against the sword edge, sparks and electricity shoot out in all directions. Disappointingly, this time the sword doesn't cut through.

The creature seeing with its black eyes full of malice that it is not going to go through the well-made blade disengages. She circles around me, pacing like a wolf.

Sensing something, maybe some subtle body queue she takes as a signal, she explodes forwards and brings her weapon down again with even more force than the last time, making my bones sing and knees buckle. Sparks and electricity flying again.

This time she wastes no time pacing or going back, she raises the chainsaw up high in the air and prepares for the third clash. Somehow, I get the feeling this is the final one--important. So, remembering the lessons, Theatrics, I school my face with as much confidence as I can manage and attempt to flash the world my best smile, which turns out not to be so good--too stiff and more like a rictus grin.

The chainsaw screeches furiously, chain a blur, as it comes down in a sickening descent. I slash upwards with all of my strength, screaming "Release!" at the top of my lungs.

The words activate something and the sword shakes in my hand with power, lightning overflowing out of the blade in a prodigious display. And, when both weapons impact, the chainsaw explodes into a million pieces, fragments flying in all directions, some scratching my face and neck. Nevertheless, I don't let this deter me, continuing and piercing her chest with the tip of the sword.

The deformed hillbilly starts trembling uncontrollably, her insides lighting up with blue light. Then, with a thunderclap, she explodes, bathing me in diseased blood.

All of my strength leaves me after the fact, momentum gone, and I start falling to the floor.

I have to stab the smoking sword to the ground and use it as a crutch to prevent me from collapsing and sleeping for forty-eight hours. I stay like that for a few seconds, panting wildly.

I am on my last legs, but I know if I stay here for too long, then something else will come; this place doesn't want to let me rest.

One step, then another. Then another. I trudge on.

I should be railing against the world, this fucked up unfair world and all of the wrong in it, but I could barely walk much less think or feel--I was completely numb.

After I clear some more trees, there in the middle of the forest is a set of stairs. How? What about the sky? I crane my neck, looking up with my good eye. The ceiling is fucking painted--fake, a display.

These stairs are wooden, not marble. The climb is a herculean effort; by the end, I am practically crawling. The last step appears. If I had any tears in my dry eye, I would cry.

In the distance I see a city and for a split second hope flares in my chest, thinking maybe I made it out. But, then I see the labyrinth, the legion of stairs emerging from it into another painted sky--this one nighttime with a fake moon--high up above.

This floor is made up of a grey, muddy floor with a great green-black ocean in the distance to my right. A broken, dilapidated road, leads north, towards the city.

Here and there, grass or weeds stuck up. They were sparse in a way that only reinforced the desolate nature of the place. That grass could grow and couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

I forge ahead.

It's gonna be a long way there. So, while I walk I cut my shirt up and bandage my injuries--primarily the arm the ghoul tore up. In the process, I notice that the runes in the sword have gone dark. The blade has also lost most of its golden color, due to being charred black from the electricity. Lastly, the sapphire embedded on the guard has turned clear, losing its blue color.

I start thinking about the implications of this. Has it only lost the electricity, or the sharpness as well?

"Hey, help me please!" a lyrical voice interrupts me out of my reverie. "Haha, this is a little embarrassing but, you see, I got stuck here and..."

It trails off at the sight of withering glare and gun. "Tell me how to get out of here."

What can only be described as a seductive, aquamarine-haired, carnivorous-looking mermaid gives me a scared look, pleading me not to shoot her with her crystal blue eyes. "Okay, I promise to tell you, but I really need to get to that river over there"--she points at a point some distance ahead at flow of water that intersects the road--"If not, I will dry out and die. So it is kind of important, you see, and I'm gonna need you to carry me. I know-"

"Alright," I cut in, so that she won't continue rambling. "But before I carry you, you have to swear not to do anything, not to take any action involving me, without asking for permission first in the form of a question you think I will understand."

"I swear," she said, flashing me a smile full of sharp teeth, the arms she is using to prop herself up squishing and drawing attention to her bountiful pale breasts with perky blue nipples. "So, um, please pick me up?"

"Yeah," I answer, moving to closer. "So, what should I call you, Miss Mermaid? I'm Jesse."

"Um, I-I don't have one. At least not anymore. When I think of who I am, my old name gets mixed up with underwater sounds in my head.”

The sounds of the deafening roar of the ocean and river around me took on a different tone them, as if the water was great machine, grinding, scouring.

"So, you, um, asked me a question," she mumbled. "I only think its fair I ask you one in exchange. What's up with all the weird markings in the gun?"

"It's magic, enchanted for strength and..."

Stability

My stomach dropped at the near miss. All of the fighting, the noise here, the rushing water, the pressure and the need to focus my senses elsewhere, it made things hard to remember.

"So, then you a Scourge? Do you have a-"

I interrupt her, my need for answers more pressing. "Tell me, do you know how to get out, uh, can I call you Mer?"

She gives me a bitter, desperate laugh. “You really do think you’re going to make it back, hahaha.”

“I will, even if I have to kill every damn monster in this forsaken place.” I replied, my voice steel.

“I don’t think you realize how bad this place can be,” she said. “Look, Jesse, if you stop fighting against the current, then things become easier. There is peace in surrender. That’s how I think about it. There’s- there’s a relief in all this. If you reach the bottom of the ocean, you can't sink any lower.”

Her hands start trailing over my bare chest, through the openings in my cut up shirt. She also begins rubbing her sizeable breasts over my back, her aroused breath hot against my cheek. But, then I feel it, a pressure between my butt cheeks. "Become my mate, Jesse. We can swim together, hunt together," she cooed, every word emphasized by a thrust of her rod against my ass, trying to spear through the fabric of my jeans. "Make eggs together!" Then, without warning, she bites my neck, injecting a warm liquid that makes me feel dizzy.

Creeped out, I shrug her off, all but throwing her to the ground. She hits the road hard and gives me a flinty look of malice. But, it is gone so fast it makes me doubt what I saw, her normal pitiful look back in place.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I yell. "You promised not to do anything without asking me!"

Then, it hits me. And, I feel almost stupid for not considering it. She isn't bound by the seal. She can lie.

Betrayed in more than one sense, I move away, leaving her there.

"No! Wait, Jesse, don't go! Please! I'll die!"

She probably lied about that too.

I leave her behind as she calls to my back, pleading me to come back. It is hard to walk after what she did to me; I am disoriented and horny, as if I am in some kind of animal heat. But, somehow, I am able to continue my inexorable march down the road for a long time. There is no sun to measure the passing of time and it's always just barely illuminated o'clock.

Being tired helps with the arousal, helping me fight it off. Just when I was beginning to fall asleep on my feet, head nodding off, I see the tavern at the edge of my vision.

The building looks dilapidated and stained. Large spikes protrude out of it, bodies of humans and other more animal-like beings decorate them. The sight is such, that it makes me rethink my plan of walking in and asking for information. But, then again, it's not like it's safe out in the wilderness.

I stagger to the cracked saloon doors slowly and when I reach them, I give them a good shove. They bang against the walls as I step inside.

Four inhuman beings--a bartender and three patrons--watch me in fascination.

A jeering whistle comes from one of the patrons, a woman with black and brown dog ears, legs, and arms. She has wicked, red glowing claws and eyes. "Look what The Abyss dragged in," she barks, wearing a grin that promises nothing but trouble, fingering her military dog tag.

One of them, a girl that looks straight out of the ring, stands up abruptly, staring at me even while a curtain of blood-red hair covers her face. She has chains hanging all around her white clothes, but perhaps most worryingly: mouths with sharp teeth and black tongues coming out of her hands.

The third, a deathly pale, white-haired girl in a stained wedding dress, holding a spear that ends in a small chainsaw, leans back against her seat, feet on the table. "Doberman, how many times have you made that joke," she reproached in a bored tone, unimpressed.

The dog girl, Doberman, stands up, cracking her neck.

"So what do we do with the fine gent here, Beaut?" she said, leering at me, practically undressing me with her eyes. "The usual?"

"I guess," answers wedding dress, standing up as well, feigning disinterest by looking at her nails.

The ring girl is already walking to me in a contorted and disjointed way.

The three begin fanning out, trying to cut off my escape.

I don't think I can do this. I am running on empty, but I pull out my sword anyways. It makes a satisfying and deadly sound as it leaves the scabbard.

Even in its current state, blackened and worn, the trio stop to gawk at it.

"Well, well, seems like we've got ourselves a Scourge," announces Doberman. Then, looking sideways at her companions wearily, "Callin' dibs!"

The white-haired Beaut, laughs condescendingly, hand covering her mouth like some noble lady.

"I did not know you had a dog brain as well," she said, tone monotone. "There are no dibs for something this big. We will share the boy and then decide on who gets to be his familiar with a game of roll the bones."

Mouth-hands nods, hair shaking with the motion and The Doberman growls.

"Look, nobody is gonna have their way with me," I state, trying to inject as much steel into my voice and face as I can. It won't do much good though, since my arms are shaking from the effort of holding the sword aloft, but every little thing counts. "I have come a long way to get here, killed many Others along the way. You might end up as dead as them."

None of them are impressed, The Doberman even snickers.

They continue their calm approach, discussing who'll be first. And, just when I think I'll have to throw my first swing, a loud gunshot rings out.

The bartender, a cowgirl with demonic looking arms that spew black fire out of crevices holds a smoking, monstrous revolver to the ceiling that looks as if it could obliterate an angel.

"Would you three break the rules of hospitality in mah own fine establishment? I offered yeh succor--food and drink and you would scare away a potential guest of maine?" she demands in a booming southern voice. Somehow, even though her eyes are covered by her hat, I can imagine them scowling.

My three attackers stop in their tracks, glaring at the innkeeper.

Doberman breaks the tense silence. "So, you will be claiming him then? Making him your master?"

"No," she answers, shaking her head. "Ah won't "claim" him. Ah don't do things like yous'. I will do it the olden way, offerin' 'im the choice to join me in marriage in an equitable relationship." She turns to me, "In exchange ah will save you from these unlady-like folk, you 'ear that, Boy? Do we have a deal?"

Marriage?! To this monster?! "Look, miss gunslinger, that is not really a possibility here. It would create as many problems down the line as it would solve," I respond, mind searching frantically for anything that will get me out of this bind. "I am your guest, right? So it isn't right to let me be attacked anyways. You are a Gunslinger, right? Aren't Gunslingers honorable? Were is the honor of standing by while an innocent gets hurt?"

She shakes her head, her two braids flapping with the movement.

"T-that would normally be the case an' it pains mah to do this, but it 'as been a long, long time since Ah've been out of this hellhole," she said, in a sad manner. "Ah--we's--just want to go back to the surface, yah acknowledge? 'Sides, I don' think it is such a bad deal. Ah'll be a true lady and treat yah right."

"He already said no, you stupid southern trash!" screeches The Beaut in a rare display of emotion. "So, shut the fuck up and wipe the counter or something!"

The three start advancing on me once again, step by heart wrenching step. Running is not an option, not in my state. They will catch me eventually and I'll just have to fight then, even more tired.

"Hey, handsome, there is no need to do this the hard way, yeah?" crowed The Doberman, both hands in the air in a placating fashion. "Put down the weapon and I promise not to hurt you...much."

While my eyes are locked to the predatory red ones of the dog girl, the other two move to my flanks, trying to stay out of vision.

Whenever they give step forwards, testing my defenses, I whirl on them with my sword. I have to shift constantly, moving from right, to left, to the front.

I sense movement from my back left, but I am to slow to respond this time. Something solid hits me in the head, making the whole world shift and shake. Laughs come from all around.

One of them rips the sword from my hands and gives me a hearty push backwards. Another, from the back, puts her leg down, tripping me to the floor.

"Just give up, boy-meat," drawls the Beaut. "If you beg me, I might take pity on you and allow you to take me as your familiar."

I stand up, shaking all over, vision blurry, pulling out my gun.

"Oh, man, he is coming back for more, hahaha-*bark**bark*!" gushes Doberman, blushing at the last part. "Um, sorry, I got excited. Can't help it"--she scratches her hair, sheepishly--"I love it when they are rebellious."

On the other hand, the Beaut is not so happy at my defiance. She screeches in frustration and punches me in the stomach, making me taste bile and pieces of undigested food.

It's all too much--the pain, this horrible place, these horrible monsters. I black out.

I wish I could say that that was all though.

I woke up some time later to something cold and wet entering my backside, moving around like a worm burrowing into the ground.

"Wha-Wha e fuck?" I mutter, bleary from sleep and fatigue. I drag myself forwards, trying to escape the unpleasant sensation.

A hand pins my waist to the ground. "Stay still, you. I am doing this for you and if don't let me, it will just hurt more for you."

Memories flood my mind, a sharp and horrid understanding of my situation.

I start fighting desperately with the small reservoir of energy I managed to accrue in my period of rest.

"No! Stop! Don't do this, please! Let me go!"

"Alright, that does it!" screeches the Beaut, extracting her undead tongue from my ass. "If you are going to act like this, then I am done being nice."

I throw a punch at her, but she catches it effortlessly, pinning it onto my lower back. She also grips my other hand and places it on top of the other, pinning them both with one of her hands.

She uses the other to spread my cheeks. A moment later, I feel something big poke me in the entrance, smearing a gel-like substance.

"Ahhhhhh! Help! Somebody...Anybody help! Heee-"

The dog woman grabs my by the jaw forcefully and brings me level with her non-human dick.

"Shut the fuck up! No one's gonna come help ya. If you are gonna be annoying, better put your mouth to good use," she barks. "Don't bite if ya know what's good for ya."

That said, she tries ramming her cock into my mouth, but I dodge it and it hits my ear instead.

Doberman is practically panting with arousal, her dog-dick trailing black precum in a trail, her tail wagging wildly.

I keep trying to dodge her, but she grabs my face and jaw with both hands and starts prying open my mouth forcefully.

Pain explodes from my backside, making me see stars, I feel something tear. I can barely breathe, my mouth open in a silent scream, the world swaying madly.

Doberman chooses that moment to ram her dick in, making me gag and choke.

They both begin moving, tearing me open from the inside, making me feel as if my ass and throat are on fire.

The Doberman barks from happiness, while Beaut grunts and huffs.

I bite down on the dog girl's dick, half of it is rage, half is the need to bite down on something hard from the pain.

"Fuck that hurts!" she shouts, punching me in the head with a blow that feels like a sledgehammer to make me stop.

That is the straw that broke the camels back. The world goes dark again, the sweet embrace of numbness erasing all the pain.

That night I woke up and blacked out many more times, always to someone fucking me furiously from behind, for hours and hours. 

As if that wasn't enough visions of the past, of that time I got raped by a disgusting, old, obese travesty in my third foster home, assault me throughout the ordeal. The lifelike visions never stop, burning into my mind, into my heart, making me cry with hate, with desperation--destroying some part of me and filling it with something else.

After they are done with me, they stick me in a rusty metal cage that is too small and go back inside. It is cold and uncomfortable, cold rain and mud from the ground robbing all my warmth. And, yet, I still manage to fall asleep somehow.

----

"Psst! Pssssst!" an annoying voice interrupts me from my broken rest. "Human, wake up! I can get you out of here!"

My eyelids drag open with effort and with two eyes--somehow the injured one got healed--I scan the world around the tight confines of the cage.

The dim green-black light of what passes for dawn here barely illuminates the muddy ground outside of the tavern. But, there, next to the cage, I see a pair of luminous blue eyes and aquamarine hair attached to a torso that sticks out of the floor: the mermaid.

"Wake up! Human, you have to-"

"What are you doing here?" I demand, voice shaky with emotion. "Come to save me from the goodness of your heart?"--I scoff--"Don't make me laugh."

The mermaid gives me a sad, pitying look.

"Believe it or not, I couldn't leave you here like this. It isn't right," she replies, voice brimming with cute righteousness. "But, I would really like it if you promised to make me your familiar. Ah! Don't worry, regardless of your answer, I will still get you out!"

After what I've gone through, a part of me wants to believe her, believe that this gorgeous mermaid will save me and get me out of this hell. However, then I remember that she is no better than the others. More importantly, once I promise to make her my familiar, she can just leave me and wait for me to summon her if I survive.

"I can't promise that, I'm afraid," I tell her in a cracked voice from all the screaming last night. "Maybe once you show me the exit, we can start talking about this. Or was that another of your lies?"

The Mermaid's angelic facade slips, cool calculation beneath. "Grown smart all of a sudden, have we? Well, if you are so smart, then get out of the cage by yourself."

With that, she turns to leave, burrowing into the mud and swimming away. However, I see the bump in the ground that marks her location stop some meters away. It turns around and begins coming back my way.

The mermaid emerges, free of mud by some means.

"What now?" I ask her, weary.

"Oh, you know, it has just occurred to me that you are really dirty," she responds, voice playful, but expression filled with sadism. "It would be cruel of me to not offer you a shower, cruel indeed." The bitch then pulls out her monstrous dick out of her scaled waist and starts spraying me with crystal clear piss, cackling all the while.

I scream until my lungs hurt, senseless with rage. I curse her. I tell her that if I ever see her again I will give her what she deserves, make her pay in blood. I scream until the trio comes out of the tavern to check the commotion. But, the mermaid is long gone.

"What's this?" demands The Doberman. "Can't a girl sleep in peace?" Then, she sniffs a couple of times, her expression souring even further. "Sheesh, you really need a shower."

The Beaut is rubbing the sleep of her eyes with one hand, chainsaw-spear revving on the other. "It's too early in the morning for this shit," she said. "You won, so fuckmeat is your problem now. I'm going back to grave." That said, she starts walking back.

The silent redhead stares at me one mouth-hand already strocking and licking her member, approaching me hungrily.

A vicious growl from The Doberman stops her short.

"He's mine!" she snapped. "Leave us!"

Once we are both alone, the dog girl squats on her animal legs and begins talking.

"I was gonna wait till later in the day to give you the good news, but I won you," she claims, tail wagging. "You are now mine and mine alone. And I-"

"Fuck you! Who the fuck cares. If you want to talk, then get me the fuck out of this cage, dog bitch!"

Her tail stops wagging. "I will let that slide, sometimes boys get emotional. But, don't call me a bitch or I will beat your ass black and blue."

My emotional state is such that I am not above calling her bitch over and over and damning it all. But, one of the lessons I've learnt is that whenever you think things can not be worse, usually they can always be and you always end up regretting it.

Forcing myself to calm down, breathing deeply in and out, I ask her, "Alright, can you please free me?"

"Sure, but before that, I am going to need you to either promise to make me your familiar the moment I free you or at some point before five hours pass after you leaving The Abyss"--she fingers her military dog tags--"I've got some scores to settle, some names to cross out my list."

What do you even do in this situation?

Bitterness seeps out of my voice. "I don't really have a choice here, so I am going to have to say yes. But, before that, let me ask you why you did all this? Are you proud of being a rapist? A callous monster?"

Her eyes flash red with anger.

"I don't have to justify myself to you, Boymeat," she growls. Then, she takes a moment to calm down and sighs. "But, I'll tell you in the interest of starting this relationship with the right paw. The short answer is: I fuck you, I am this way because this place breeds monsters. I used to be a girl you know? A police officer that protected people. I don't remember my name, but that much I do. Then I got killed and ended up here"--she fingers the tags--"Always fighting always surviving, like I was back in the war. I've left behind much of my humanity, received weapons and this needy penis in exchange. So, that's why. I don't need your understanding nor your forgiveness, just get me out of here."

I feel no pity for her sob story. The worse your life is, the less you can care about others' plight.

Ultimately, I opt for doing the ritual now, since I know most of it by heart, having read the book not so long ago. I don't really like time constraints, makes me nervous that something might prevent me from doing it and I'll become forsworn.

Once I explain it to her and she memorizes her part, we begin.

"I, The Doberman, agree to be bound by the strictures."

“Then I, Jesse Scaurgez, by the old rules, invite you back into the world of man and mortal,” I improvised. “Let this be the port and gate by which you enter, the destination and arrival, passing through the border”

I constructed a circle on the floor with the remaining tatters of my shirt and some parts of my jeans, it surrounded The Doberman. She stood within, I stood without. As icons of civilization went, torn trousers left a lot to be desired, but it was all I had.

“As the willing guest, I, The Doberman, accept your hospitality,” she said. “By our compact, I agree to share of my power and share in yours.”

“By that same compact,” I said, “I agree to shelter you, whatever form of shelter you might require, my home and hearth are yours to share, in the brick and mortar, the demesne and the spiritual.”

“I accept the offered shelter, and I agree to guard that territory as if it were my own.”

The mud, the tavern, and everything else started becoming harder to see. Black and green sunlight fell on her side, rain and wind on mine. Shadows congealed into weapons, trenches, prisons, behind her, dark, barely lit by Abyssal light. The rain on my end landed in darkness, settling on a surface that was well beyond the mud.

We had an audience, shadowy, undefined figures. All of them horrible, boogeymen. As the ritual proceeded, some stepped away, actors in a play on the stage we set. Great, grinding gears reverberated. Looking up, I could see other shadow wreathed titanic figures, some defying comprehension, their forms impossible.

“I offer you sustenance,” I said. “Whatever form of nourishment you might need.”

“I accept your sustenance, and I agree to lend you the strength I gain in return.” The Doberman replied.

“I give you reprieve from the forces that hold you, as the old laws permit.”

“By the compact, I guard you against those selfsame forces”

“I give you asylum from the forces that follow you, as the old laws permit.”

“By the compact, I follow you.”

My sight showed me a weak connection forming between us, a greenish, black wire.

There were options and suggestions here. This part was more freehand, more personal.

“I, Jesse Scaurgez, give passage to the mortal world to The Doberman. I offer under duress, and I give unwillingly, with expectations of safety and solutions to my problems. I give my mind and spirit, my body and power, so long as I am being helped.”

“Then, by the compact, I, The Doberman, offer you my protection, my loyalty and companionship in your darkest and desperate moments as well as your most fortunate ones. I offer you my bloody skills as a boogeyman from The Abyss. I do this so long as my wishes and requests come first and done to the best of your ability.”

The connection between us went from insubstantial to solid. It was like a breaker had been thrown, and the dark backgrounds, the shadows surrounding us were cast away. The surroundings returned to what they had been.