Strange Tales of the Deadslayer Ch. 02

The light of three moons cascades along her naked figure, each dancing, spiralling before coalescing in washes of color, decorating her perfect body as she rocks upwards, then falls down once more like an angel's descent to earth. Colors glint along the thin sheen of sweat that coats her soft, light skin; and beyond, only darkness envelops the two of us. She leans down, and her waterfall of bright golden hair shimmers with an opalescent green, followed by clear, bright blue before mingling with a vibrant, flaming orange. Her hair spills down around her neck and around the gentle heart-shape of her face, and her lips meet mine, entangling me, entrenching me in a long, deep kiss.

Where I'm from I'm used to just one moon, one moon sluggishly revolving around the world I once knew. Now with the night having fallen and the sky darkened into a fierce pitch, it makes the colors of those rapidly orbiting celestial bodies glow and shimmer, picking up every small reflection, and making my newly-freed lover seem to glow in the dark -- dazzling colored blackness lighting her like a beacon in my night-adjusted eyes. We kiss hard, and I feel her tongue entering my mouth to slide and stroke across my own, and she continues to rock up and down in my lap, keeping her divine figure in perpetual motion as my fantasy maiden rides my strange and amazing new figure, eager to please me like no person's ever been.

"I'm yours, strange hero," she whispers, backing away slightly, kissing me again. The two of us lay on the fallen petals of the weird flowers from the thorny forests beyond, a soft and shifting bed of delicate violet.

"Your name," I whisper back. There should be a question mark there, I feel, but the question itself is quick and hushed, more a demand than a query. The girl smiles -- I can feel her lips curl against mine as she answers breathlessly within the soft cage of our kiss.

"Ciphia," she answers, smiling again, kissing me again, and I feel her tighten around me -- clenching the forbidden entrance she willingly offered around the new-and-improved rod I won along with my ironically feminine figure. "And you are Allara, my savior."

Yeah, I am. Allara. The Deadslayer, she calls me. Thodax called me the same thing. Because I killed those zombies? That's a really specific nickname to catch on so fast. Then again... it is kinda catchy, isn't it?

Regardless of what I'm known as here, Allan has no place in this world. If I awaken -- if I wake up; crap, this world is changing the way I think! -- then so be it. But for now I need to embrace the world I'm in. And it's a far, far better world than the one I left.

I lean into her kiss, my own tongue extending to meet hers as our embrace deepens, intensifies. I thrust my hips upward and I feel her whimper into my mouth, her own rhythmic rocking in my lap not slowing, meeting my own erratic, hungry thrusts forward. I feel her snug entrance flex and then relax, easing slickly up and down along my aching shaft again and again, and though I try to ignore it I can feel the stiffness between us, the feeling of Ciphia's rigid member trapped between our flat stomachs. I have too many questions to bother asking any at all, and instead I focus all of my attention on this rescued blonde. On Ciphia.

She gasps and breaks our kiss, straightening back up in my lap, perpendicular to my prone form and bouncing up and down on top of me, bathed in the erratic neon moonlight of this impossible world. Her full, sumptuous breasts jiggle and leap with every downward drop of her weight against me, her scintillating hair a shifting, bouncing maelstrom of color that hypnotizes me even as I'm entirely enveloped by the transcendent pleasure she gives me.

I thrust inside of her, again, then again, and she nestles her backside down around me as her snug back hole spasms around me. I'm slick from our earlier play, her saliva and my own spunk mixing into a bubbly, sticky mixture that made it perfectly easy for her to mount me and take me while proclaiming she was mine. No complaints here. I stare captivated as her breasts bounce in place as she hops onto me again and again, and now I'm confronted with an unavoidable view of this girl's own meatstick -- the way it wobbles and flexes, tensing with hardness from the pleasure I'm giving her backside. She tenses again, whimpering, and her eyes meet mine, big and green and adoring, and we connect in this strange way, this primal way, like nothing I've ever experienced. For the first time I'm within another person and in that sense we're one, we're joined.

I reach upwards to grip one of her full breasts, feeling it squish against my fingers, resistant yet pliable, big yet firm, still slick from the deposit I made on it earlier. I prop my knees up and thrust my pelvis upwards, driving into her snug back entrance and finding my hips inexhaustible -- while my breathing rises with excitement my body doesn't seem to tire, and I go faster, faster, and I hear Ciphia let out a cry of ecstasy that shakes her entire body, causes her to quake and spasm. The heavy swells of her perfect breasts shudder and almost vibrate with the intensity of her shaking, her hard dick tensing before unloading onto me, coating my firm tattooed stomach and firm breasts with her cream... even as I return the favor.

My breath catches as I look up at her, going numb in places as I watch her gasp with pleasure of her own, seized in the throes of her own climax which only grow more intense as I release within her. I feel pulse after pulse rock me, a look of realization and excitement dawning on Ciphia's face as she realizes I'm filling her, pumping her full of what I was taught was for making babies and nothing else. Oh well -- new world, new rules.

Ciphia falls down against my chest, panting, whimpering in the aftershocks of her pleasure as she buries her face between my soft breasts, arms wrapping around me as she joins me in our combined stickiness. Her breathing is rapid and shallow, but slows -- I shiver as I feel her gentle kisses start to trail up my chest and neck, to my jaw, nibbling my ear. "Thank you again for saving me, Deadslayer," she whispers softly. "But I must confess something."

I let out a soft breath of my own, my hands tracing lightly along her hips, then sides, then up across her smooth back. At this point, she could tell me anything. "What... what is it?"

"I may have acted selfishly in how... generously, I rewarded you," she looks up at me with a wicked grin, kissing my lower lip gently, then suckling it. "And I have absolutely no regrets."

Eesh. I've spent my whole life using the internet as my girlfriend and now girls are trying to manipulate me into nights of passion? Yeah, this has gotta be a figment of my imagination; nothing this amazing could be real.

I fold my arms around her waist and hold her gently to me, my breath steadying as I relax against the bed of alien flower petals we've made. My eyes drift into slits as I feel Ciphia's heartbeat slow, enjoying the strange lightshow of this world's fast-moving moons, the way their colors combine and splatter across the darkness like the frenzied strokes of a mad painter across an impossible landscape of flowers, thorns, and strange hills of dark earth. Above me is space and those frantic celestial bodies, the stars ebbing and drifting, rearranging, lulling me into a deep sleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm awoken by a sunrise, or... what I assume must substitute a sunrise in this world. Bright white flames seem to cavort along the skyline independent of any single specific nexus of heat and light that might designate an actual solar system -- dispelling the multicolored day-glo darkness with light.

I blink my eyes and sit up, and a big part of me expects the world to be back to the way it was, in my own bed, wheezing from poor sleep, the sounds of my mom making breakfast on the floor below. That's not what I'm greeted by, and more and more I'm being forced to accept the possibility, if not the certainty, that this is my new reality. That the transformation and transport I underwent are... if not permanent, certainly real.

"You're awake, Deadslayer," I hear a whisper by my side, and the warmth of Ciphia's body reminds me of her closeness, cuddled into my side and nuzzling one of my tattooed breasts tenderly. "Thodax shall be far away by now, as he has yet to return."

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. Thodax. Dark lord. Possibly an evil robot sorcerer. Normal stuff that happens every day. "Where will he be?" I ask. I'm at a disadvantage here, at least as far as Ciphia is concerned. I should get as much information from her as I can.

"I'm uncertain," she whispers back, sitting up and rolling over onto me, laying flat on my body so that she can kiss my lips again. I can feel her smooth girlshaft, semi-hard from sleep, press tenderly into mine. I don't resist. "But we should return to my village before he strikes again. We know his plan now, yes?"

Plan? He had a plan? Raise the dead, and um...

"The Tora'sai!" Ciphia exclaims. "I can ask my father about it. One of our elders, or sages, must know of its location. We merely need to get it before he does."

Right. The Tora'sai. How could I forget that. To be honest, I do remember Thodax mentioning something that would grant him some kind of ultimate power, but I was pretty understandably distracted at the time. "Where is your father, then?" I ask, lightly touching my nose to hers. These small gestures of intimacy are still incredibly sweet to me, unique, delightful. I'm still riding the high of last night, the power and... apparent desirability of my new form.

"It isn't far from here," the blonde whispers, her arms wrapping around my middle, holding me as much as a sensual gesture as a call for protection. "Past the Star-Marsh. I can take you."

I nod a little, nuzzling her soft, sweet hair and starting to sit up. "Let us go then," I say, dramatically. "I would learn more of this Thodax, and the Tora'sai he so desires. And--" my stomach releases an intimidating growl. "I hunger."

"There shall be feasts from wall to wall of the great winehalls of my father, Deadslayer," Ciphia coos, kissing my cheek, her hand brushing up to firmly grope my breast, sending an impulse of pleasure shooting through me. "I shall see to it."

A few moments pass, and I have risen up, stripping away the banner of one of the fallen soldiers I killed last night -- enough fabric to make a loincloth of sorts. While my new body may be amazing, I still don't wanna walk around with my wanger hanging out, y'know? Ciphia follows suit, making a simple covering for herself but leaving her enthralling breasts exposed, just as I, perhaps hypocritically, also did. "Point me in the direction of your village..." what do I call her? What sounds badass? Badasses don't call people by their names, right? "...Maiden."

Ciphia inhales deeply, taking a quick look around. We're just outside of the cemetery where we encountered Thodax, now, and it only takes her a few moments to get a general direction. "This way."

I nod, stretching my back slightly and starting to walk behind her, keeping my eye out for any danger. Ordinarily this would be the last thing I'd do -- after all, not noticing danger means you aren't responsible for it, right? -- but I do feel responsible for Ciphia now. Not only that, but after my encounter with the undead I feel more than capable of providing a challenge to any random encounters we find along the way.

The Star-Marsh ends up being very much as I might have imagined it; a swamp of strange, clear, black water amidst short hills and tall reeds, spongy and wet and extensive, unavoidable on our route to the village Ciphia was kidnapped from. Within that water -- I'll call it water due to a total lack of understanding of what it actually is -- is blackness, sparkling and twinkling, like a whole new cosmos within its depths.

We move forward, carefully squelching our bare feet through the wetness and muck, the sky squirming and scintillating with these frantic light sources above us. It's only a ways past the cemetery that I start to see strange machines burbling out of the clean-smelling but foul-looking swamps, rusted but struggling to operate. Failing. I can't tell what they might have been for.

"They used to pump water to our village," Ciphia says softly, noticing my gaze. "Before Thodax tainted the water with his corruption."

"Who is this Thodax, anyway? I know he wanted to raise an army of fallen soldiers, and... something about a Tora'sai, but--"

"Thodax is the darkness that corrupts all life. Conquers, destroys, seizes," Ciphia murmurs as she makes her way around a deeper pool of black, void-like liquid. "With the Tora'sai he'll take more, and our life will be over. Our water, our trading routes. There will no longer be villages or cities. Only his empire." Her voice takes on a sort of gravity, and I glance towards her, taking in the look of melancholy on her face. She's seen more than she lets on.

"I'll do everything I can to stop him," I growl. Yeesh, either I've fallen head over heels or I've totally lost my mind! Fighting the guy on the spot is one thing, but now I'm agreeing to go to war? Did I get bumped on the head on my way to this weird place? "How far is your villa--"

"By the archons." I hear her horrified whisper beside me, and feel my fingers tighten to fists in anticipation. I know nothing of the archons, but I know an exclamation when I hear it. I look to her face, to those big emerald eyes, and follow their direction -- facing forward and a bit to the left, to what I had seen as only a mound of swampy earth. Ciphia, however, sees beyond it; sees the plumes of smoke drifting up behind that rise of ground. "We have to hurry!" she shouts, dashing off ahead of me.

I catch up quickly, oddly, and have to slow down to match her pace as my powerful new legs pump beneath me. I can see the smoke too now, and I can only assume that it's her village. Perhaps this Thodax struck earlier than any of us thought? Enraged by my defiance?

The sucking bogs of the Star-Marsh begins to exhaust Ciphia and I lift her up with one arm, draping her soft frame around my neck and charging forward, inexhaustible, unstoppable, fueled by the power rush of my new form. The wet squelching void beneath my feet tries to drag me down with every step but is no match for my brute strength. In moments I am free of the swamp and sprinting, carrying Ciphia along my shoulders, along a plane of flat, crimson-grassed ground towards the source of the smoke.

I hear inhuman shrieks in the distance. Ciphia flinches at the sound, as if she's heard it before. Something animalistic.

I charge forward with her in my arms, feeling my muscles throb indomitably as I race across intraversable terrain, making my way closer and closer to the source of the smoke. When I crest that hill I can see the village below -- along with a strange sea even blacker than the pools of the marsh, seemingly endless -- and I race towards it, keeping my breathing even. I'm the hero here. Can't flag out.

When I arrive at the wooden gates I set Ciphia down beside me, storming past the open palisade and into the village beyond, to be treated to a sight of carnage. The people of this place, Ciphia's people, have been all but wiped out -- many lie dead, more in cages to be taken away for some unknown purpose. The culprit though, does not appear to be Thodax, nor any army of corpses he may have raised. What now occupies this small town makes me pause, makes me remember my situation, the... incredulousness of where I am and what I'm doing.

"Those are dinosaurs," I whisper, freezing in my tracks. Not only dinosaurs, though -- these stampede through the village equipped with advanced weaponry, flamethrowers strapped to the shoulders or sides of raptor mounts, or tyrannosaurus stampeding through the town without riders. Pterosaurs scream through the flame-lit skies above, lasers shooting out of the lightweight weaponry packs strapped to their airborne bodies. Upon each creature of suitable size is a rider; their skin in varying shades of violet through blue. I spot four arms and two legs upon each of these alien creatures as they set down cages and traps, capturing the remaining members of Ciphia's tribe (which appear to be normal humans like me).

Bare-chested and loincloth-clad I charge into the fray of bodies, of savage raiders and their mounts. Without a weapon I lash out with a punch, sending one large raptor flying along with their rider as I charge forward. The beasts and riders are entirely dominating the small village they've invaded, clearly not expecting much of a fight -- but neither did they expect me. With the outstanding speed and strength of my new body I leap up, grabbing one flying creature from the air and latching my fingers onto both wings. I feel it strain against me and hold me aloft for a moment; its lean, tall rider crying out in some alien language as I tear off one wing, then the second, sending the beast diving to the ground and its rider along with it.

"Lu-at! Chat sha-ta al hat-t!" I hear the cry of a female rider, racing towards me on what can only be some kind of massive raptor, flamethrowers strapped to either side of the rapidly-charging beast. She herself -- clad in an elaborate metallic harness and wielding a strange lance of alien make -- rushes towards me with a flurry of forward strikes, her mount lashing out at me with teeth and claws.

It all seems to go so slow to me. It's so bizarre, still unused to my new strength and my new speed. Nonetheless, I duck out of the way of her piercing, extended blade, rolling nimbly to the side to avoid the gnashing jaws of the fierce, lavender-skinned warrior woman's mount. I pause and take in the sight of the woman herself, trying to figure out her specifics -- she's taller than me, yes, by perhaps a foot. Two rows of short, sharp horns trail along the sides of her skull from the temple backward, flanking a lustrous, narrow black mane of hair. The second pair of arms extend from just beneath her shoulders and are very slightly smaller than the first, though as well-muscled as the rest of her athletic, long-torsoed figure. Burning orange eyes make her beautiful in a primal way, but I don't have time to think about that now. Right now, I have to kill some dinosaurs.

A sentence I really never thought I'd say, but I gotta admit I'm so glad I got to.

I roll nimbly to the side, dodging the forward lance attack and then seizing my strength, charging upward with my knee and crashing into the neck and head of the large raptor she's riding, sending it flying and the alien woman along with it, out of the fray the moment and letting me focus on something else... though it looks like I might have been too late. In the moment I hesitated to examine my alien attacker I hear a squeal, the raised pitch of the familiar voice of Ciphea, and my eyes rapidly track the sound. I can see her pale legs, draped over the shoulder of one of these alien raiders as she's dragged away, strapped to the back of an enormous purple triceratops. It, along with an escort of lighter beasts and riders, begin to drag the caged villagers towards the back of the town, towards the strange, starry abyss that makes up its shoreline and towards the strange, primitive-looking ships at its port.

"Ciphea!" I roar out, though my voice is drowned amongst the sea of primal screeches and shouts in that strange, clipped alien language. I begin to run towards her, my legs pumping beneath me in long, powerful strides -- as much a series of leaps as true sprinting. The ships are large, there's no way they can load onto them before I reach them, even if--