Horrors of Warcraft

This chapter containts F/F, oral, M/F, anal, torture, rape, snuff, nec, F-mast, in more or less that order.

Horrors of Warcraft 5: Murder in the Mist


The table was cool under Alec’s forehead. For hours now he’d been sitting in the inn, his head on the table, next to an empty tankard, listening to the waves beat endlessly against the shore and the hoarse yells of the goblin merchants. From where he was sitting, next to the door, he could smell the subtle scent of the ocean, and over that the harsher scents of unwashed bodies. It was a little after noon, and Alec was well on his way to becoming very, very, very drunk.

His thoughts were running in circles, chasing themselves. He thought of the agonized faces of the women he’d seen tortured to death, one in his first life and two more in his second. He thought of the sad and mangled wolf he had saved, which now sat beside him in the bar, licking at a bowl of beer. He wondered again, as he had every day since he’d arrived here, how a bag of bones and rotting flesh animated by magic could experience alcohol the same way as a living human (He suspected it was really just a placebo).

It had been two weeks, now, since he’d killed Nerigokt and run from Razor Hill, and he knew the news had spread fast. In fact, it had beaten him to the Crossroads and he’d been forced to run from the guards there as they hunted him mercilessly. Although he’d been entirely justified in killing Nerigokt, and he knew that Thrall would pardon him his crimes if he only knew, there was no way he would ever have a chance to present the letter, evidence of his innocence, to anyone who could exonerate him. Too many officers of the horde would get in trouble if the full story were known, so there was no way he would ever be able to arrange a meeting with Thrall. He’d run from them until he’d come here, to Ratchet, where they couldn’t attack him without starting a small war with the goblins who ran and guarded the town. Now he was safe, but he was trapped in Ratchet, assassin’s lurking at every possible exit. It was only a matter of time until his money ran out, and if he didn’t figure something out before then they’d have him.

Darkness. Something was blocking the light. Alec didn’t particularly like having the sun on his face while he was drunk, but he was nevertheless irritated to have it taken from him, and peered blearily up at the silhouetted figures in the light. He couldn’t tell much except that one of them was very very big and the other was very very small. Exhausted by the effort of raising his head up, he gently laid it back out on the table and went back to listening to the ocean and merchants and wishing he could fall asleep.

“We need one more,” said a harsh and high pitched voice. “Don’t get upset. I see you’re annoyed, but this is too much for two people to do, or to do quickly anyway. I operate the machine, you keep it working and guard me. That’s great, but we need a third person to help you pull the machine and to do chores while we operate it.”

“That’s wonderful logic,” said a smooth and feminine voice, “but where do you think we’re going to find anyone like that here? This town is all goblins, and if goblins could help pull the machine then you could do it yourself. The few people here who aren’t goblins aren’t fighters and would be useless as bodyguards. We might as well just do it with you and me, if we waste time getting a third then we-“

“Excuse me,” mumbled the emaciated figure in front of them, “but I can fight. Hire me.”

Alec saw the two blurry figures look at him, then at each other.

“As I was saying, if we leave now then it will take us less time than it would take to get another fighter-“

“I CAN FIGHT!” Alec yelled, not meaning to but unable to control himself, remembering all the innocents who had died while he stood idle. “I can fight,” he slurred once more.

“Ah, I’m sure you can,” said the grating high pitched voice. “Wemya, why don’t you escort our friend here out? I think he’s had enough.”

The larger blur stood up and grabbed him firmly, pushing him out of the building. Slowly Alec tipped over, forced off balance by the sheer mass of the arm. Instinctively, he grabbed the arm and pulled hard, and with a grunt the huge creature started to fall towards him. Pulling himself on balance even as he threw his anonymous opponent off balance, he leapt forward holding the huge arm and kicked back with his left leg, jamming it into his opponent’s back and holding the arm out, bent back against his knee. If he’d pushed it even a little further he would have snapped it.

Alec wasn’t drunk any more (this certainly supported his placebo theory). With perfect focus, he saw the tiny green woman in front of him, her sharp features slack with surprise. Belatedly he noticed the short stiff hairs on the arm he was holding, and realized it belonged to a tauren woman who seemed to be in some discomfort now, kneeling on the floor behind him. Alec released her and hopped back, mortified at his instinctive attack.

“I am so so sorry!” he exclaimed, rushing to help the tauren stand up, “I just… I was a little…”

“Don’t worry about it,” the goblin said, a sharp and mischievous grin on her sharp and mischievous face. “You were drunk, you were drunk, it happens to the best of us. Besides, ol’ Wemya’s taken worse and survived. Right Wemya?”

“Right” the tauren woman murmured, glared at Alec. Now that he could see properly, he saw that she was just over seven feet tall, covered in short black hair except where it turned white around her muzzle and around her large three-fingered hands. One of the black horns on her head had been snapped off with just a couple of inches remaining, and parallel to that a livid white scar ran down the right side of her face down to the corner of her mouth. She was wearing leather pants that ended at the first joint of her double-knee, and a hardened leather shirt with a steel breastplate attached. All in all, she looked like a tough customer, and none too pleased with the way things seemed to be turning out.

“See? See? No one’s hurt. Everyone’s happy. So why don’t you sit down with us, and maybe we can talk about potential employment opportunities.”

Slowly, still glaring at Alec, Wemya sat at the table next to the goblin. Alec felt like his face was flushed and burning with embarrassment as he sat down on the opposite end of the table to the two of them, but of course it wasn’t.

“Now then,” the goblin said, the grin never leaving her face, “my name is Maszgraem, but everyone calls me Maz. Now you say you can fight, and from what I just saw I am inclined to believe you, but do you fight… cheap?”

Alec grinned, exposing grave-yellowed teeth. “Dirt cheap.”

Maz snorted. “And how cheap is that? Make me an offer drunky.”

Alec peered around to see if anyone else was looking, then leaned in and whispered in Maz’s ear. Maz leaned back and looked at him pensively for a second, and then the grin appeared once more, like a carnivorous little ray of sunshine.

“I think we can work something out.”

**************************

The huge bronze body of the machine rung like a bell when Maz rapped it with her knuckles. “You can get out now,” she yelled at the general direction of the collapsed tube that led into the guts and controls of the machine. Almost immediately a sandy colored blur popped out of the tube and landed on the road, looking considerably put upon. Shortly after, the wolf was followed by a desiccated warrior, also looking rather the worse for wear, even for an undead. “Well,” she grinned, “you look like shit.”

Alec cast her what looked like a withering glance, but replied in apparently good humor. “I’ll bet. We’re clear of Ratchet now?” he asked, hopping down from the top of the device and wincing as he landed on his bad right leg, held together with bits of leather and steel.

“Yep, but we’ve got a ways to go today. We’re going to have to cart my modern technological marvel here all the way to the stagnant oasis. And, seeing as Wemya here was nice enough to cart your sorry bones all the way over here inside this here marvel, I think it’s probably your turn to drag this magnificent, albeit unbelievably heavy, machine. Don’t worry, I greased the wheels before we left town.”

Alec hadn’t really seen the machine before. He’d snuck inside it late last night, when no one was awake to report his method of escape to the Horde soldiers outside of town. Last night it had been huge and dark and impressive, to be sure, but nowhere near impressive as the vast shiny and intricate bulk he beheld now. Wordlessly, he shuffled around to the front of the cart carrying the machine and picked up the wooden bar which pulled it. Wemya stood behind them like a statue, following his every motion with her black eyes, shiny and piercing.

He pulled the cart noiselessly, but not effortlessly. Though he did not grunt or pant, that was largely because he had no breath with which to do so. The wolf followed him, looking up at him and panting in the Barrens heat.

“What’s its name?” said a soft and feminine voice beside him, and Alec started. He looked to his left and saw that at some point Wemya had moved up beside him. The woman unnerved him, she was so strange and soft and silent for a 7 foot tall monster. The heavy rock hard hooves made barely more sound than his own rustling footsteps, and the voice sounded completely unnatural coming from something so big.

“Ah, um. I named it Neriwes,” he said, still nervous from her sudden appearance. “After a- a couple of people I knew.” The black eyes stared at him, and like a sucking void they pulled the words out of him. “I found it just outside of Durotar when I was running from the Crossroads. Someone did something terrible to hi-him… He was barely alive when I found him.” Alec sighed, forgetting the pointlessness of doing so. “I bound his wounds and brought him with me to Ratchet. I don’t think either of us really have anywhere to go so…” he shrugged.

“Oh!” he heard a screeching wail behind him, “That is SO SAD! Who would do such a thing to a poor defenseless animal? This really is a cruel and terrible world. Really. Really.” Maz seemed to have taken the plight of his dog to heart, and was busy crying her eyes out, sitting on the cart, carelessly increasing the load he had to drag with her admittedly negligible weight.

Wemya sighed, embarrassed by Maz’s histrionics. “Hey. You’ve pulled the cart enough, you’re probably tired. I’ll go now.” They continued pulling the cart in shifts for the rest of the day, but there wasn’t much conversation after that. When the sun touched the horizon they pitched camp on the outskirts of the oasis. They anticipated about an hour of travel the next day before they reached their destination.

“There are centaur raiders in this area,” Alec said as he pulled out the heavy creased canvas of the tent. “We should set a watch.”

The tauren and goblin looked at each other, then back at him. “I’ll take the first watch then,” Wemya said, “You can sleep. And Maz. Maz can sleep too.”

“What about the tent?” Alec asked, “Who’s going to be in it? I couldn’t share it with either of you, that would be improper…”

“You take it,” Maz said, grinning. “Me and Wemya are fine outside. I only got the tent recently, and I only intended to use it for rain. We’ll be fine.”

“Um. Okay.”

It only took a few minutes for Alec to set up the tent, seasoned soldier that he was. Silently he drifted off to the morbid sleep of the Forsaken. It felt like he’d only just shut his eyes (he hadn’t, he had none) when he woke up again. Tense and wary, Alec wondered if they were under attack and leaped silently to his feet. He could hear rustling and grunting as though there were a struggle, and crept to the entrance of the tent, peering outside.

Maz writhed as the huge tongue pushed its way into her. Wemya’s tongue was larger than most goblin’s cocks, and it filled her up exquisitely. She felt like a tiny doll in her tauren lover’s gigantic hands, and the beast-like smell of her filled her with conflicting feelings of safety and fragility. As the tauren’s huge clumsy hands fondled at her tiny green breasts, and the tauren’s huge red tongue poked and caressed her warm cunt, Maz closed her eyes and bit her lip with her sharp teeth, enjoying the pain, feeling the tickle of the warm blood trickling down her chin.

Maz and Wemya worshipped each other, physically and spiritually. Just as Wemya made Maz feel physically tiny and insignificant, Maz made Wemya feel like a new calf, lost in a world of strangers with ulterior motives. Conversations that Maz could swim through like a fish stopped Wemya like a brick wall, and she envied Maz her energy, assurance, and dextrous tongue (figuratively and literally). Even as she held the small green woman in her hands, and felt her frail frame tremble, she was still just paying tribute to something much greater than herself.

Maz imagined Wemya snapping one day, going crazy, foaming at the mouth. In her minds eye she saw the tauren take her, not gently as she was now but brutally, biting at her tiny limbs with her flat teeth, gripping her body so hard the bones snapped, forcing one large finger, then two, then three into her battered pussy and tearing her apart from the inside. Maz imagined Wemya throwing her ravaged body to the ground and stomping on her head, spattering her brains into the thick dirt. Maz imagined Wemya waking up from her blood frenzy, seeing her broken body and realizing that she, in her insanity, had done this thing, and Maz’s slender green body bucked and writhed, spraying her orgasmic juices all over Wemya’s face and tongue, as in her imagination Wemya bent down and picked up her corpse, bellowing in eternal and regretful sorrow.

Alec sat down, shoulder’s slumped, staring at his feet. He missed his first life, everything that the Forsaken had not returned when they’d given him back his body. He wished he could feel something for the scene he had scene, and he had vivid memories for the arousal his body had borne in life, but sex held nothing for him now. Once more, he lay down on his mat and tried to sleep, but this time it was impossible. For the rest of Wemya’s carnal watch he lay there, wishing he wished for more, desiring desire.

**************************

“Okay! Let’s get this show on the road!” Maz clapped excitedly. “This lake isn’t going to mine itself! I hope. If so then what the hell did I make this thing for?” So saying, she kicked the cart and sent it wheeling crazily into the lake, slowly sinking to the bottom with a steel cable anchoring it to the shore. As it rolled the collapsed tubes that emerged from the top flailed out behind it, opening up a pair of makeshift tunnels to the machine as it sunk into the lake, one large enough for a goblin to walk into. “Wemya, you’ve helped me work this infernal contraption before, you can help me keep this deathtrap going. Bones, you can go get us some food, we’ve got nothing come nightfall. Kill it, steal it, buy it, I don’t care. Just remember Wemya doesn’t eat meat and I don’t eat anything else.”

“Ah, okay.” Alec murmured, turning to go. He had barely slept all night the night before, and he was exhausted. As he trudged away Neriwes limped after him, bright eyed and panting. Maz watched them go pensively. She still remembered being deeply unsettled to wake up in Wemya’s embrace the night before to come face to face with the wolf’s grinning, panting muzzle, something disturbing hidden deep in its amber eyes.

Tossing her concerns aside, Maz walked into the bigger tube, hunching over very slightly. It was for the most part a comfortable fit, she had after all designed it to accommodate her small frame, but it would always be a little intimidating and cramped descending into the belly of the beast. As she clambered into its depths she heard Wemya pulling the sack of coal out of the cart and the heavy thud as it was dropped onto the dirt.

Sighing, Wemya hauled the heavy sack towards the smaller tube. She hefted the sack, tilting it just enough to send a slow torrent of black rocks and dust down the tube. Looking around at the empty space around her, Wemya idly waited for the machine to start. She didn’t have long to wait, in less than five minutes she felt the small tube sucking air in hungrily and, as the fire caught, belching it back out right afterwards. No matter how you looked at it, the mining machine was a technological marvel, and once more Wemya felt like a child in the presence of Maz’s glory. Every few minutes she dropped a little more coal from the sack into the boiler, and the lake steamed as Maz plundered its bed for its treasure, raping the earth with steel and bronze.

Wemya cursed the coarse hair that covered her body. The thick hot mist covered the oasis; she couldn’t see a thing even five feet in front of her face. The steam was thick, hot, difficult to inhale. She felt like she was being smothered, but at the same time it was soothing to bask in this warm mist, like a shower.

Wemya abruptly snapped out of her reverie, dropping the heavy sack at her feet. Something was wrong. Uneasy, Wemya sidled over to the cart, pulling her axe out of the back. It was a huge and vicious implement, not designed for the chopping of wood. Feeling marginally better, Wemya cautiously walked back to the tube and, turning her back to a tree, stood ready with her weapon.

For a long, long time nothing happened. However, Wemya was far from reassured. The oasis was unnaturally quiet, even for the presence of the great mining machine, and her warrior’s instinct warned her that some beast in the mist lusted for blood. Wemya heard Maz clambering up the tube to see what was wrong, and Wemya hissed a warning out of the corner of her mouth. “Maz… stay in the machine. No matter what happens.”

Maz looked up at her, curious and afraid, and for the first time ever Wemya saw the older and more worldly goblin woman as a frightened child, just as lost as she was. More than ever, she was determined not to let any harm come to Maz. When the black beast rushed out of the fog, shedding silver droplets of condensed mist, she was ready. With a low growl she swung her axe in a vicious diagonal overhead motion, aiming at where she surmised the beast’s shoulder met its neck, then gasped as the axe shuddered to a stop, never tasting the familiar sensation of bone and flesh being crushed by steel. One huge fist was wrapped around the axe haft just below the blade, halting the swing. A single and terrible star of maliciousness met her eyes for just a moment before a foot slammed into her gut, sending her stumbling back against the tree.

The single glittering eye in the black void looked up and down the haft of the axe, then whirled it around its head once and sent it sailing off into the air. A moment later Maz heard it splash into the lake, but by then the beast was on Wemya, snarling and snapping. Wemya flung one arm up and caught the shimmering yellow teeth, snapping and hunting for her throat, and grunted as they crunched through her flesh into the thick bone of her arm. With a short yell, she quickly curled up and lashed out with one hoof, slamming into the huge bulk with the sound of cracking ribs. The furry mass flew back several feet and landed with a growling squeal, and Maz let out a sigh of relief. Wemya wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

Grinning, Maz looked back at her gentle warrior, and was barely able to stop her gasp of horror. Though Wemya was standing, four parallel strips of pink showed through her black hair where the monster’s claws had snuck their way past her counterattack, digging deep gouges into her belly. The large tauren woman stumbled, curling her arm in over her belly, trying to hold her bowels within her as the blood ran dark and thick down her pants and hooves, dripping with quiet thuds into the moist oasis soil.

The beast was recovering from the earth shattering kick she’d given it. Slowly it got to its feet and shuffled forward, one step at a time, its pink gums and yellow teeth showing starkly against the misty backdrop. Maz shuddered and covered her mouth, shocked; the monster was visibly aroused, and even as it limped forward, suffering from Wemya’s fury, the stiff pink organ between its legs stood at attention, a terrifying counterpart to the pink gums with their teeth lined up like soldiers.

Gathering its strength, it leaped at Wemya again and narrowly dodged another brutal kick. With a keening, screaming sigh, Wemya fell to her knees, carried by the momentum of her kick. Seeing vulnerability, the beast leaped once more, slamming the wounded woman against the tree with its weight. The tauren’s other hand flew to her gut as the intestines bulged against the flimsy constraints of skin which still bound them there. Maz heard a slight keening giggle in the monster’s throat, and with a little scream of delight it dove in and pawed at Wemya’s exposed intestines, ripping them out of her piece by piece even as Wemya tried to pull them back. But with every yard of bowel he ripped from her her grip slackened, and as the monstrous torture went on she lost strength. Finally, the entirety of her intestines lay there outside her gaping empty belly. As she lay there panting, the beast snickered to itself once more and with lust fuelled speed ripped at her pants, tearing away small bleeding chunks of her cunt as it stripped her. Finally, with her bloodied pussy exposed, it lifted her large and muscular pelvis and forced its weight upon her.

Wemya groaned, tears dripping out of her gentle black shiny eyes and running down the scar on the side of her face. Maz was crying too, though it took her a second to realize it, and alone in the tunnel she hugged herself, grieving for the friend and lover who, she know, was already dead. Even if the beast left now, the wounds Wemya had suffered were almost certainly fatal, and after seeing the glee it had taken in inflicting these wounds Maz was certain it wasn’t about to stop now. And she right, because even as it raped Wemya it reached into her gaping belly, pulling out organs. A black paw, glistening in red, pulled at her bladder and, as it leaked piss and dripped blood, slowly crushed it, eliciting horrendous screams of agony from the twitching tauren woman. The pace of the monster’s sadistic thrusts gradually quickened, and as it pumped at her cunt it reached once more into her hollow belly with both paws and, as it stiffened in orgasm, twitching with sadistic glee, it crushed her ovaries into useless pulp, pumping its seed into her now and forever sterile uterus.

Grinning, it pulled out of her cunt, its glistening pink member followed rapidly by a torrent of glistening pink blood and semen, dripping down between Wemya’s dark haired legs and into the dirt underneath her brutalized cunt. The monster leaned down and sniffed at the mixture, then, the mind-numbing and terrifying giggle once more forcing its way out of the monsters throat, it started lapping at her cunt, licking away the mixture of the blood of her shattered reproductive organs and its own seed. Her cunt glistened, cleaned by his saliva, and satisfied he bit away at it, gnawing on the chewy and bloody organs as they came away. After just a minute or two of this, after he’d completely chewed away her vulva, he groped at one of her hooves. Lifting the hard and massive foot which had caused him so much pain over her head, he forced his weight upon her once more and, thrilling at the sensation of her sphincter muscles rupturing, jamming his once more erect cock up her ass, marvelling at the visible bulge in the length of intestine it could see in her gutted belly.

Slowly the beast thrust in and out of her ass, and each time it pulled back it yanked at her breastplate until finally it came away in the beast’s grasp. Tossing the useless piece of metal aside, the beast tore chunk out of her breast with its teeth while its right hand reached down and pulled at her exposed and ravaged uterus. With each vicious anal thrust, now, the beast pulled at the remnants of Wemya’s reproductive system, and finally, with the sound of ripping flesh, they came free. As the monster tore her asshole apart, as it slowly ate her breasts, almost gently it placed her mangled reproductive system in her mouth, forcing her to taste every horrendous torment he had given her once more, remnants of the beast semen dripping out from the mangled organ onto her large tongue. Then, once more, the monster came inside her, spraying itself into her bowels.

Wemya’s breath was coming quick and shallow now. Her eyes were glazed and her lids were flickering, her breathing erratic. Unwilling to even let her die on her own terms, the monster picked up a loop of her intestines and wrapped them around her thick throat. Its muscles bulged as it pulled her guts tight around her neck, little gobbets of wet shit spraying out where bits of the intestines were pulled apart, and completely cut off Wemya’s supply of oxygen. The tauren twitched once or twice, then went still forever.

Seemingly confused now that its victim was no more, the beast stood for a moment, staring at the violated corpse. Then, with a nonchalant motion that almost looked like a shrug, it placed its once more hard cock in front of one of Wemya’s big, gentle, black eyes and, with a growl, forced its way in, smashing the fragile organ. Grabbing the big tauren corpse’s horns for leverage, it pushed his way into the socket again and again, raping the little jellied fragments of Wemya’s eye, leaving trails of her shit where it raped her skull. The beast twitched, spasmed, and for the third and final time it sprayed its monstrous semen into Wemya, into her dead and violated brain.

Sighing its weird, tremulous, giggling sigh, the beast stepped away from Wemya’s corpse, her blood and shit and pieces of her eye still dripping from its now flaccid organ. Step by step, it stumbled away from its atrocity until, suddenly, sniffing the air, it stopped. As if in terrifying slow motion, Maz saw the nightmarish black beast turn around and look straight at her with its single obscene and twinkling eye. It took one step towards her, and then another, and Maz felt the warm trickle of urine dripping down her leg as she lost control in the midst of her terror.

The beast came closer and closer as she crouched there, on hands and knees, mesmerised by the lonely and hateful eye. Just as it came in reach, as she was certain she was done for, a glimmering needle of hope emerged from the mist and pierced the monster in the shoulder, scraping against the bone. Howling, the monster stumbled back, and there she saw Alec standing ready, the wolf at his side with his hackles raised. The husk of a human had a look of eternal sorrow in his glowing eyes, and looking into those sad, cold, enraged glowing orbs the beast looked away. Then, stumbling, it ran. Alec took one step, intended pursuit, but Maz threw herself around his leg.

“Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me here with her. Please. Don’t leave me…” Over and over Maz cried at him, her tears soaking into his pants, this pitiful, terrified, small woman.

“It’s okay,” he said, bending down and holding her in his cold dead arms, knowing even as he said it that it could never be okay. “It’s okay, I’m staying here with you. Don’t worry, I won’t go…”

**************************

They camped once more in the same spot as last time, but this time Alec took the watch and Maz slept in the tent alone. They’d left the machine behind to rust in the lake, and had buried Wemya’s corpse with all the ceremony they could muster considering the circumstances.

Maz lay on the mat and tried to sleep, failing miserably. She lay there, wide awake, and every time she closed her eyes she saw a black monster with one eye tearing her friend apart. Tears soaked the ground under her, as she saw the vicious beast rape and kill her friend over and over and over and each time she shuddered to think how close it had come to doing the same thing to her. Just the thought of that huge thing, full of death and hate, touching her, hurting her…

She caressed herself, hating herself, burning with lust, burning with shame, quivering with fear, trembling with hate. In her minds eye she saw the monster’s giant pink organ poised at her tiny green entrance, felt its muscles tense, forcing itself into her, tearing her apart, breaking her like it broke Wemya. Half in a dream, she saw it pull out of her cunt, leaving her hemorrhaging blood into the dirt, and go in turn and brutally open up her asshole with its cock, breaking her once and for all. In her vision, she saw the beast force her head into Wemya’s cold dead cunt, drowning her in the blood. And she bucked her hips, twitching, juice running down her fingers, in the midst of the biggest orgasm she ever had. Shivering, crying, she lifted her wet hand up to her face and tried to wipe away her tears, only succeeding in smearing cunt juice on her face. Sniffling, she licked at her hand, soaked as it was in tears and sex.

And outside, Alec reflected upon another life he had failed to save.