FigSin

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The moment the ritual is finished, she is upon me, licking my face frantically, paws on my naked shoulders.

"Ah! Ow! stop! Stop it!" I exclaim, trying to push her face away with both my hands.

"I did it!" she shouted, her tail wagging maniacally, out of control. "I'm finally getting out of this place! Finally, finally, FINALLY!"

As if to punctuate her statement, she gives me a big kiss in the lips, which I try to twist away from.

Seeing her so happy makes things more difficult for me. It was easier to hate her when was just a violent rapist, nothing but a monster without redeeming qualities.

I try to change the subject before she moved from kisses to something else. 

"So, that's done. How are you planning on getting out of here? Through those stairs?" I point to the mess of stairs spiraling upwards like weeds.

She shakes her head. "No, that city is bait. It's full of monsters and those stairs won't get us anywhere. They go nowhere--you will climb, and climb, and climb, getting twisted around all these confusing paths, and before you know it, you will be back were you started, right at the bottom."

"Where's the exit then?"

"There isn't just one, there are many, and the issue does not lie in finding it, but in actually being able

to make it through. For example, there is an exit close by in this zone, but we won't be able to get through the guardian. Do not worry, though: I am friends with, Illnerith, that faerie will let us through his gate."

The Doberman grabs my hand and pulls me after her in the direction of the great expanse of dirty mud, sniffing periodically to determine the way. It is cold here and I'm hungry, but she tells me not to worry, that there is no dying from starvation, no going crazy from lack of sleep in The Abyss. She tells me that one can find relief in exchange for their humanity. I decide to cope with the pain.

Time passes and as we walk, I keep catching these weird looks she is giving me.

"Something on my face?" I ask, annoyed.

She nods, different emotions warring across her face. "Seems like this place got its hooks on you already. You look more girly and your injuries are gone. You must have wished to be healed and The Abyss heard you—this is the price.”

My blood runs cold. I must not have noticed with all the things going on, with me wallowing in a pit of misery.

I start inspecting my body urgently for any changes. Already, I see my arms are thinner, more slender. My ripped up jeans feel tighter in the butt. Worst of all, however, is the pair of tiny breasts on my shirtless chest and what feels like a smaller penis. How am I going to explain this? Will Sarah even like me now that I look like an absolute faggot?!

“No, why?!” I pleaded. “How do I change it back? Tell me how to change it!” 

The dog girl tries to pat my head empathetically, but I am having none of it and dodge away. She looks frustrated at my ungratefulness, but gives me an answer anyways.

“The only way to revert them would be to make a deal with The Abyss, but it will ask for more changes as payment, and like anything in this place you will be unhappy with them as well, perhaps even more so. Best to get used to them and keep surviving.”

We talked about this for a while, Doberman giving me her best guesses on what price The Abyss might ask for me. The different threats we will face on our way to the Illnerith.

In time we make it to a sizable manhole cover partially sunk into the mud.

“I’m gonna give you your weapons back now,” she said, handing me my sword and gun. “You best don’t get any funny ideas, lest you get forsworn. Also, just in case you find some loopholes, ‘member I am your ticket out of here.”

The Doberman squats down, giving me a view of her ass, and pries the cover off with her red claws. She then strains, growling, and lifts the metal piece that is as tall as her or more.

“Ggoow Inhg!” she snapped, nodding at the opening.

Seeing her waning patience, I rush to enter the manhole, passing through the triangle between her, the cover, and the ground. I grab the stairs there and start going down as fast as I can.

Once I am sufficiently down enough, she grunts and dives inside, letting the cover drop in a loud crash. 

The dive of her momentum is such that she misses the stairs. Instead, she freefalls towards me. My heart drops. 

She collides with me, my death-grip on the stairs futile, and we go tumbling down, my sword shaken out of its sheath and falling as well. I scream, sure that this is my death, wishing that I had done something meaningful with my life instead of being just another worker drone. Wishing I had punched my smug-ass manager right in the face like I alw-

Doberman punches the red glowing claws of one of her hands into the wall, chunks of wall flying off from the trail she is making. She grabs me with the other, making me wince in pain at the tug I get from the sudden stop.

We both hang there for a moment and she laughs at my pale, bloodless face.

She continues her descent, thankfully using the stairs, and I follow after, still shell-shocked from the near death experience.

At the bottom we are greeted by a sewer. I search for the sword to little avail. It probably fell down on the water and got carried away. The only reward I get is more filth staining my skin and clothes. The water here is dirty as well and who knows what might be under. There is no getting clean, no quiet, no comfort, no place where I can find relief here. 

The smell here is so bad that it oozes into my mind, makes me want to tear my nose right out of my nose. In fact, it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

The Doberman grabs my hand after the first bloody scratch.

“Keep it together, man!” she chides, slapping me in the back of the head for good measure.

Although the method was primitive, the solution was effective. My reason returns along with the corresponding dose of horror.

“Thanks for the save,” I said, more than a little reluctant.

“Don’t worry about it.” She slaps my back and we continue down the sewer trail.

Random trash and some dubious creatures make up the background. More than once, I have to give a hearty kick to a rat or strange mammal as tall as my knee, making them scamper off, screeching in fear. However, they are gathering their courage, coming more often and in greater numbers—building up towards a swarm. 

They stop coming when Doberman picks two of them up and eats one of them, black blood spilling down her chin. The other screams, emitting a noise that sounds like the wailing of a human baby. The grotesque display almost makes me puke.

Eventually, we reach the end of the sewer, emerging into what seems like a central hub.

A legion of drains, grates, and pipes all led onto ledges and balconies, or emptied water intermittently onto broad bridges, or simply dropped vast amounts of liquid into vast, empty darkness. Figures, most furtive, moved quickly from one area to the next. Here and there tents made of trash and other such humble housing could be seen. One or two merchants selling sea shells and other near-worthless trash.

It was loud in here, the cacophony of noise a constant erosion of sanity. It was loud enough to make my vision distort, to startle the wits out of me when sudden crashes rang through many of the drains and sewers connecting to the vast empty central pit. This did not happen often, but still with enough frequency to throw me off.

Doberman sniffed and pointed at another tunnel above us and on the other side, We began making our way to it, crossing through ramshackle balconies and unstable-looking bridges, climbing up pipes and shaking stairs.

We finally reach the scaffold were the tunnel is. But, there are creatures here, watching us with beady eyes. Some of them are craven, content to observe from their hiding spots, but others, like the burn victim man that latches onto Doberman are not. Some parts of his skin are intact while others are charred black, burnt beyond recognition. 

“Please, trade the human to me! I have meat and some other valuables I can trade and-”

“No,” she answers, her voice brokering no argument.

However, the burnt man doesn’t relent. He keeps clutching her even as she tries to pry his hands off.

“Please! I need his skin! I want to be human again! Please! I’ll do anyth-”

Doberman manages to free one of her hands and uses it to to choke the shit right out of him. Then, she leans down and uses her red-glowing teeth to chomp his skull. 

The burn victim screams, cursing her, cursing me, swearing he will haunt us in the afterlife. She doesn’t care, just keeps chomping, eating his head one bite at a time. She stops when he becomes silent and drops him to the ground.

This time I do puke, but no food comes out, just bile.

In between the waves of wanting to puke, I manage to choke out, “Why?! Why *ugh* fuck?! What is wrong with you?!”

“I just like eating,” she shrugs, angry. “I’m so hungry all the time and it feels sooo good. Many do it here, helps you get stronger in a place were only the strong avoid getting changed to poop or a bundle of cells.”

She doesn’t wait for my answer, just grabs me by the scuff of the neck and pulls me towards the tunnel. 

No more creatures dare step in our way.

This sewer is similar than the other, but with no creatures. This one just has nails, broken glass, used needles, and other hazardous objects on the way. 

It takes us some time to clear it, on account of my watchful step, but we do make it out in due time.

We exit into what she calls the tenements: a jumble of apartments and other buildings all smashed together like tetris blocks, stacked high into the sky, the top out of vision.

Strange Others lie in wait inside the apartments and in the streets. They watch me with open hostility, but refrain from attacking me. Doberman must be recognized here.

Navigating it is tough and many times I tell her we are in a streets we went past before on account of them looking identical, but she insists she knows where she is going.

Before too long, we exit and make our way through a barren path, horrid black trees openly digesting their victims keeping us company, growing in number the further we walk.

“It’s right there,” she said, pointing at a clearing in the forest.

Just in time too, since I am close to my limit from all the walking, sweating from exertion.

We enter and The Doberman greets a being that is the furthest thing from the image of a faerie I had in mind, so much so I do a double take.

Illnerith has long, dark hair that covers both his eyes. His left hand is missing two fingers: the middle and ring ones. A mutant arm is coming out of his upper back, waving at my familiar. Bloody chains ending in hooks and dripping in blood come out of his flesh through some of the gaps in his broken slender armor. Through the other gaps, black and green eyes peer at us.

“So, Scourge, my friend here tells me you seek safe passage back to the mortal world,” he sang, his voice lyrical, beautiful and in stark contrast to his appearance. “I can do this, yes. But, it will come at a price.”

“What price?” I ask, weary.

“Be glad, I, Illnerith, the broken prince, do not give discounts often, but I will make an exception here on account of favors owed. You can have passage if you damn nine worthy beings to The Abyss in my name and bring me three jars of glamour.”

The Abyss chooses that moment to show me lifelike visions of the nine damned and the suffering they would experience as well as the challenges I would have to go through getting the glamour. 

The visions stop for a moment and my sword comes flying out of the sky, from nowhere, and sticks itself in the ground right in front of me. 

It shines black and green with Abyssal energy, all of the gold replaced with cryptic runes and dark tones.

More visions shoot into my mind, reverberating through me, inescapable. Visions of me picking up that sword, slaying my enemies, becoming an unparalleled warrior, of me, defeating Illnerith and gaining passage for free.