Bab 62: Fate worse than death
The scene unfolds in gruesome detail as Zadkiel and Lira stand paralyzed at the doorway. Their sons, naked and spreadeagled, are being brutalized by a mix of men and women. One son has a thick cock rammed down his throat, choking and gagging as tears stream down his face. Another man pounds his ass relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. A woman straddles him, her pussy grinding against his unwilling erection.
Amara, their young daughter, lies spread on a table, her limbs held down by rough hands. Men take turns violating her tight holes, her screams muffled by the cock in her mouth. Blood and semen mix on her thighs as they ruthlessly use her body. Her eyes, wide with terror and pain, lock onto her father's, silently pleading for help.
Zadkiel collapses to his knees, crimson tears flowing from his eyes. He begs and pleads, his voice hoarse with desperation, but the attackers ignore him completely. The air is thick with the stench of sweat, sex, and fear as the horrific assault continues unabated.
The village's true nature is revealed in all its depravity. Zadkiel, immobilized by drugs, watches helplessly as his world crumbles. His sons' bodies are used mercilessly mouths stretched around thick cocks, asses pounded raw, forced to endure women grinding on their unwilling erections. Their muffled cries mix with the wet sounds of violation.
Amara, his precious daughter, lies spreadeagle on a table. Men take turns brutally fucking her tight pussy and ass, stretching her small body beyond its limits. Blood and cum leak from her abused holes as she chokes on the cock in her mouth, her eyes pleading with her father.
Lira's voice drips with venom as she details the village's long con. Every villager Zadkiel trusted stands behind him, complicit in this horror. The air is thick with the stench of sweat, sex, and betrayal.
Zadkiel's anguished cries echo uselessly as bloodtinged tears stream down his face. He's forced to confront the sickening truth his entire life, his family, was built on a foundation of lies and exploitation. The sounds of his children's torment serve as a grotesque backdrop to Lira's cruel revelations.
Lira's beautiful elven features twist into a sneer of contempt as she grips Zadkiel's chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You pathetic fool," she hisses, her breath hot on his face. "Did you truly believe a creature as magnificent as myself could ever love a weak, disgusting freak like you?"
The sounds of his children's muffled screams and the grunts of their attackers fill the air, a cacophony of terror and perversion. Zadkiel's eyes dart frantically between Lira and the brutal assault on his offspring, his mind reeling from the betrayal and horror.
"Your only worth was your bloodline," Lira continues, her voice dripping with disdain. "Every touch, every kiss, every moment we shared it was all a lie. A means to an end. And now, your children will serve their purpose, breeding stock for a new generation of powerful halfelves."
Zadkiel's eyes widen as he realizes the villagers have betrayed him. Lira's cruel words still echo in his mind as he staggers to his feet, the drug slowly wearing off. His children's anguished cries spur him into action, desperation lending strength to his weakened limbs.
But it's too late. The villagers close in, their faces twisted into cruel smiles. Rough hands seize him, pinning his arms behind his back. A sack is thrown over his head, plunging him into darkness while special restraints are being put on him that sealed off his magical abilities.
Bound and helpless, Zadkiel is dragged through the village, the cheers and jeers of his former neighbors ringing in his ears. They jeer at his predicament, reveling in his downfall.
Finally, the basement door slams shut behind him with a resounding clang. The darkness is absolute, broken only by the occasional beam of light filtering through the rotting floorboards above.
The dank, musty air of the basement fills Zadkiel's lungs as he stumbles forward, blinking against the sudden light. His body, once powerful and strong, is now a wasted husk. Months of captivity and malnutrition have left him a shell of his former self.
The scene before him is a grotesque parody of family life. His sons, once lively and vibrant, now move like marionettes, their strings pulled by the villagers' depraved lust. Their eyes are glazed, their faces slack as men and women take their pleasure from their unwilling bodies.
Amara, his sweet daughter, lies prone on a stained mattress, her legs spread obscenely wide. Man after man mounts her, rutting into her violated flesh with savage abandon. Tears streak her cheeks as she's used like a common whore, her screams falling on deaf ears.
7 months of locked away in the basement. His emaciated body trembles, muscles atrophied from disuse. The magical restraints bite into his flesh, a constant reminder of his powerlessness.
Before him, a nightmarish tableau unfolds. His children still reduced to holloweyed sex dolls. Their bodies, covered in bruises and bite marks, move mechanically as villagers use them for their perverted pleasures.
A burly man grunts, finishing inside Amara before turning to Zadkiel with a sickening grin. "We owe you our thanks," he sneers, wiping sweat from his brow. "These three are the best fucktoys we've ever had. Your sons' asses are so tight, and your daughter? Well, she's a real screamer."
Laughter erupts from the crowd as Zadkiel's blood runs cold. The basement door slams shut, leaving him alone with his despair and the echoes of his children's suffering.
Zadkiel's sons stare blankly ahead as they're groped and penetrated, their spirits long since shattered. The basement reeks of cum and despair, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh a grotesque symphony.
Suddenly, Lira appears at the top of the stairs, resplendent in a glittering gown. Her cold beauty is a stark contrast to the depravity below. "Your time has come, my dear husband," she announces with mock sweetness. "You and those foolish villagers who tried to interfere you'll all die tonight."
She descends gracefully, her eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation. "But first, one last show. I want you to see exactly what your precious children have become."
Lira's eyes gleam with sadistic pleasure as she circles Zadkiel. "You've served your purpose, my dear. Now it's time for you to disappear." She snaps her fingers, and two burly villagers grab Zadkiel's arms, dragging him up the stairs.
As they emerge into the village square, Zadkiel sees other prisoners the few who tried to help his family. They're bound to stakes, fear etched on their faces. Lira addresses the crowd, her voice ringing out. "Tonight, we cleanse our village of the weak! These fools dared to challenge our ways. Now, they'll pay the price."
Torches are lit, their flickering light casting eerie shadows. The air fills with the scent of oil and anticipation. Zadkiel struggles weakly against his captors, his eyes darting between his broken children and the other condemned villagers. His mind races, searching desperately for a way out of this nightmare.
As the condemned were lined up, their hands and feet bound, the villagers carried out their twisted judgment with cruel efficiency. The sounds of sobbing filled the air, blending with the crackling of firewood being piled up for those about to be burned.
A **young father** knelt, clutching his weeping **daughter**, no older than five, whispering reassurances that he knew weren't true. His executioner drew a sword and, with a swift motion, **decapitated** him. The child screamed as her father's head fell to the ground, blood spraying as the body crumpled lifelessly beside her. She sobbed uncontrollably, still calling for her father as a **soldier grabbed her**, leading her to her fate.
Nearby, a **woman in her thirties** struggled, pleading desperately for her life as flames began licking at her feet. "Please! I have a family!" she cried out, but her pleas were ignored. The fire quickly engulfed her, her skin blistering as she screamed in agony, writhing in place as the flames consumed her. Her screams grew weaker until her body collapsed, reduced to a charred husk.
A **boy of around twelve**, barely old enough to understand why this was happening, was forced to kneel. He begged, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to die! Please, I don't want to die!" His cries were silenced as an **archer drew back his bowstring**. With a chilling twang, the arrow flew through the air and struck the boy in the **forehead**, the impact sending him lifelessly into the dirt. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the earth.
Another **woman**, still clinging to hope, screamed as her executioner raised an axe over her head. "No! Please! Please, don't!" The axe came down with a sickening thud, severing her head from her body, her blood splattering across the nearby spectators.
The **mob showed no mercy**, laughing and cheering as each person fell, their blood staining the ground red. One by one, the men, women, and children were slaughtered in brutal and gruesome ways, their cries of terror and pleas for mercy drowned out by the relentless bloodshed.
As Zadkiel stood in the outskirts of the village, the scene that unfolded was one of absolute chaos and terror.
The villagers, furious and misguided, had gathered around the prisoners, with **men, women, and children** tied and blindfolded. **Crying and begging**, they pleaded for their lives, their voices cracking with despair.
"**Please, no! I don't want to die!**" a child whimpered, tears streaming down their face, their voice blending with the cries of adults and elders, all helpless in the face of their grim fate.
A man, shaking uncontrollably, was brought to the execution block. **The executioner's axe** gleamed in the flickering torchlight as it swung down, blood spraying from the neck as the body collapsed to the ground. The crowd cheered, twisted in their satisfaction, while **another woman** was brought forward, her hands bound as she was pushed toward the stake. **She screamed**, the flames licking her feet as she was burned alive, her agonized shrieks filling the night.
In another corner, archers aimed at the **terrified children**, arrows loosed with cold precision, and **each shot landed with a sickening thud**. The young victims' bodies jerked as the arrows pierced their hearts, the light in their eyes fading.
Zadkiel, restrained and blinded, heard everything. The weight of the injustice tore at him from within as **tears of blood** poured down his face. His teeth clenched, his body convulsing with rage.
"**YOU BASTARDS! I WON'T DIE TODAY!!**" Zadkiel screamed, his voice breaking the cacophony of cries and executions. Something within him **snapped**, and dark energy began swirling around his body, crackling like a storm on the verge of destruction.
"**REMEMBER MY WORDS!**" he howled, his voice raw with fury and pain.
The **black electricity surged**, spreading through his veins, amplifying the hatred in his heart. His body began to glow with dark power, and the restraints that bound him **shattered** under the sheer force of it. Villagers were knocked back by the explosion of energy, their faces twisted in horror.
"**I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN... AND MURDER EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUUUUUUU!!**"
The energy reached its peak, **black lightning streaked from his body**, striking down those closest to him. Villagers convulsed as the electricity coursed through them, their bodies twisting and burning, their screams echoing in the night. The very earth around Zadkiel cracked and smoked as the villagers, one by one, were reduced to lifeless husks.
In a haze of exhaustion, Zadkiel collapsed, his vision fading to black as the last of the energy drained from his body.
---
**Morning came**, and when Zadkiel finally stirred, he was greeted by an **eerie silence**. The once-bustling village was now nothing but a graveyard. **Dead bodies littered the ground**, their lifeless eyes staring into the void. Blood pooled in the streets, mixing with the ash and dirt.
Zadkiel pushed himself up, his legs unsteady as he surveyed the carnage. His eyes were hollow, but his heart was filled with a singular purpose.
**He turned his gaze toward the village**, his fists clenched.
"**I look forward...**" he whispered under his breath, a chilling resolve overtaking him as he began his march back to the place that had turned its back on him.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone