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 No.8529

More to come, just warming up.
Feedback is cool. I'm a newbie.

Sanctify the Dark



The knights of a faraway land had come not for battle, but for slaughter. Penelope was lucky to have found a hiding place in time. Even for ten years old, she was exceptionally small and frail. Not exactly fast on her feet, her only hope was to squeeze into someplace small and hidden and wait out the raid.

The fair-haired child watched it all from beneath an overturned cart. Feet rushed passed her narrow peek hole. Shrieks and howls of pain and death, gallons upon gallons of hot blood soaking into the packed dirt streets, and already corpses littered the ground like so many discarded dolls.
The stench of death was overpowering. Penelope caught a whiff and retched loudly. She cursed the reflex as one of the knights stopped carving up a corpse and glanced her way. He flourished his blade and approached her hiding place with a predator’s swagger.

His boot broke her line of sight for a moment before it’s owner peeked under the cart. The man’s eyes were shrouded by his great helm, but his intentions were unmistakable. He reached under the cart and dragged Penelope out by the hair.

Penelope yelped girlishly and tried to crawl away, but a heavy foot kicked the little girl onto her back and pinned her down. She squirmed and clawed at the knight’s leg, but to no avail.

Without warning his sword came down and punctured her neck. The blade was long and thick, and her killer stuffed it through to the hilt. He lifted his sword and the thrashing child along with it.

Penelope screamed, or at least she tried. The only noise she could make was a sort of rasping gurgle. Blood burbled out of her ruined throat, slopping onto her chest in gory mix of blood and phlegm.

The little girl panicked. She started groping mindlessly, first at the blade, then at her neck. Her legs kicked and kicked but they met only air. Eyes rolling back, her mouth opened and closed in a mute expression of agony.

For a moment or so longer Penelope’s neck choked, gargled, and spurted in a very undignified way. However, her body was beginning to run out of blood and air. Soon her thrashing slowed to pathetic twitching, and then to deathly stillness.

The knight regarded the child’s corpse with the same expression one might give roadkill. He tipped his sword toward the ground, allowing Penelople’s tiny corpse to slide off with a sickeningly drawn-out SSSHHHLRK.

Before long her body arched it’s back and flailed in one final death throe. A sudden and violent spray of piss shot out of her immature pussy while Penelope’s corpse humped at the sky. The stream of hot urine went some three feet because the girl’s jerking hips, but eventually her bladder was empty and her body finally settled.

Seeing that the show was over, the knight took his leave. His nose wrinkled as he stalked away, sensing an odor on the wind. He heard the repulsive noise of the small girl’s bowels aggressively expelling their contents. The little blonde was well and thoroughly dead.

 No.8541

Glad to hear there will be more! Your writing is great, and I enjoyed the story.

The only thing that comes to my mind is that she somehow pees three feet into the air, yet there is no mention of the knight undressing her. I assume she was clothed from the start, which would stop the urine.

This is really nitpicking though, I really look forward to more, and hopefully a bit longer, stories. I love little girls being snuffed!

 No.8620

This is amazing. Love the scat and death throes. Maybe necrophilia next time? It's a shame to let that pretty little thing go to waste...

 No.9321

>>8541
Thanks for the feedback, and there's definitely more coming (albeit slowly, college can be a bitch sometimes.)

>>8620
Thank you, I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes it. Necrophilia can be arranged, I'll put it on the list.

Sorry for the absence. Here's a one-shot (in more than one way), with some sci-fi elements because I just can't help myself. A bit too similar to the first story, I know, but I've got more variety in the pipes.

[Loli, head destroyed, 2nd person]



Look now, child, just there on the horizon. See that little ball? Watch as it skims on the air toward you, hear that faint whzzzzzz as it approaches. That drone is quick. That drone has intentions.

You put up a hand to shade your big brown eyes as they draw a bead on the hovering robot. It skims behind tumbling green hills, across gurgling streams, and over long swathes of rich black farmland. Finally the machine buzzes up the nearest hillside, and you smile at the way the sun glows on it’s smooth shell.

It’s in front of you now, and you stand up from your work to get a better look. You can see it’s eye, that gleaming black lens. It’s staring at you.

Head cocked, you wipe your hands on your grubby brown smock and take a step closer. You can see yourself reflected in its eye. Long brown hair caresses your bare shoulders, it’s fuzzy and a little mussed up from your day in the fields. If you squint, you can just make out the circlet of daisies your older sister made for you.

“Hey little guy,” you chirp, then venture a second step toward the hovering drone.

It floats backward but keeps level with your head. The sides of its spherical body click and spin, then open outward and upward like two hatches. A pair of polished black shotguns is mounted to the underside of each hatch.

“Vitae aut mortem.” The machine growls, its voice inhumanly deep and edged with metal.

You hop back, hands reflexively clutched to your chest. What language was that? Whatever it was it sounded nasty – and those guns look like they mean business.

“What’s a mortem?” you quaver.

“Intelligo,” it says, then adds in your native tongue, “I give you Freedom.”

The four shotguns fire. Their muzzles flare orange, and your head jerks backward. You stagger a few steps then stand rigid, hands groping at a spot where the rest of your head should’ve been. A ring of daisies tumbles from the sloppy remains of your skull.

Your little body shudders and its legs begin to kick, causing you to topple sideways. The roughly tilled soil greets your struggling corpse and begins to soak up brains, blood, and urine alike.

For a moment, your legs continue to pump. They’re trying to run. Your body is too stupid to realize its head has been seduced to a burbling mass of blood, brains, and matted brown hair.

Watch now, child. Watch from above as the last spasms of life leave your pathetic corpse. Watch and ascend to Freedom.



More soon, hopefully. I like to shorts like this one, but longer stuff is in the works.

 No.9322

>>9321
so fuckin' good. love head destruction. only complaint is no scat in it like the first.

 No.9847

>>8541
I believe panties are a modern invention, so I figure her makeshift dress ended up around her middle when she hit the ground.

 No.10248

>>9321
Good one!

 No.13199

have you wrritten more than this?



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