Act 0 


Ravyn was one step away from the abyss of despair when he was found lying beside his hospital bed in critical condition. 
The first to arrive in the room was Sheriff Chip. The uniformed Great Dane took his first steps cautiously, slinging his Revolver firmly in his large canine hand. 
His boots upon contact with the floor made no sound.
Chip had found the room thanks to bloody footprints on the floor coming right from there. He had ordered his deputy to follow the tracks while he worked to figure out where they came from.
He knelt over the tracks and carefully observed them. He held the gun with the barrel pointing upward.
"Sheriff, what do you think?" the deputy asked.
Chip hesitated for a few seconds as his blue eyes were busy analyzing the tracks.
"Do you see these? They're circular, and much larger than the others...," he pointed out while keeping his voice as hoarse as possible.
"And the blood on those footprints is more pronounced," the deputy suggested. 
Chip nodded.
"Good point, yes those footprints are more pronounced that indicates that the weight of their possessor is quite substantial..."
Then the sheriff jumped from one circular footprint to another.
"Here we have a paw...," he exclaimed, "To my eye it seems to belong to a large dog."
He reasoned about it for a few seconds before he had a deduction.
"Eddie...," he then said, turning to the deputy sheriff. 
Eddie winced and pricked up his German shepherd ears.
"I need you to follow these tracks and call for backup, there may have been another attack by those two..."
Chip suddenly stood up and stared his deputy in the eyes with an expression of genuine apprehension.
"And please Eddie, use your weapon if you need to... am I clear?" 
Eddie's face immediately turned grim. 
"Yes, I will use it!" the deputy replied in an unconvinced tone. He had been trying for months to earn the sheriff's trust. It had been months that with all his energy he had shown his abilities in the field. Still hearing words more befitting an amateur than a sheriff's deputy disappointed him so much that he doubted the intellect of Chip.
-He just doesn't want to understand what I can do, -Eddie thought once he turned and started walking. He kept his gaze on the ground, the traces of blood still fresh and Arcadia Valos.
"Fuck the backup!" he muttered.
"I'm the deputy, and two pedophiles certainly can't stop me!"
Chip watched the German shepherd round the corner and heard him complain loudly.
-Don't get killed boy, please-, he said.
At that exact instant, the hospital light went out abruptly and total darkness suddenly reigned. The blue eyes of the Great Dane no longer discerned anything around them.
Chip tried to resist, but a shiver of fear ran through him like a jolt.
He felt his utility belt with quick, hurried movements. He immediately recognized a cylindrical shape and grabbed it. 
He pressed the button and the flashlight opened a crack of light in the darkened hall. 
Chip sighed and began to move forward using his flashlight as his only guide. 
He walked up the strip of footprints slowly, gun drawn and ready to fire. 
He stretched both ears and sharpened his nose; no unforeseen event could catch him unprepared. 
Eddie risked being blown to smithereens when the lights suddenly went out. Following the trail he had stumbled into the stairs, there, the trail continued downward.
The deputy had barely placed his foot on the step when darkness engulfed him.
"Oh Fuck!" he cried, and a moment later lost his balance. His body, dominated by gravity, lurched forward and Eddie fell ruefully on the flight of stairs. The dull clatter of his big face on the floor echoed through the entire floor. Shortly thereafter his groans of pain could also be heard. 
"Damn it, damn it!" he said when he found the strength to sit up. He brought his hand to the top of his head in an instinctive gesture and a warm, sticky liquid wrapped around it. He noticed only after a few moments of panic that his face was completely soaked in blood.
"Oh shit! I hope Chip didn't see me...," he bellowed. His thoughts centered more on what the sheriff might think of him if he discovered him in that state.
-He would think I was really an idiot, - Eddie reflected as he tried to stand up. He leaned his hands against the wall, where he left the shape of his bloody hand as an involuntary sign of his passing.
He used his handkerchief to dab his wound and his flashlight to illuminate the space around him.
"It must have been those bastards who turned everything off...the generator is downstairs, where they seem to be carrying the tracks...that means I'm finally going to demonstrate my skills."
Eddie spoke up despite being completely alone. But feeling foolish, he picked up the radio and contacted the sheriff.
Chip, one floor above him and near the rehabilitation ward, instantly answered.
"Eddie, are you okay? Over." he immediately asked, and his voice came through crippled by the radio link.
Eddie hesitated for a while before answering. From one moment to the next he did not know what to say.
"Yes, sheriff, I've contacted you for...for," Eddie stammered, "Nothing important, I'm tracking, I'll update you as soon as I know anything. Over."
"All right, take care Eddie. Over and out."
The brief communication broke off, and the Deputy was only left more bitter than before.
-Watch out, me? I'll show them!-, Eddie thought and hurried off to the next ramp without a care in the world.
Chip reached the right section. He knew for sure when the blood stains on the ground became more numerous and thick with fresh blood. 
The sheriff carefully avoided them by walking alongside. He advanced with his gun drawn, ready to fire.
He found himself in a narrow, cramped hallway; the footsteps came from there.
Chip took a big breath and gathered his courage. Step by step, he stepped into the darkness where his flashlight was barely useful.
Silence reigned supreme arm in arm with the darkness. There seemed to be nothing else in that hospital that had acquired a strange aura of fearfulness.
Chip had already passed through the hospital a few days earlier for a checkup and had not seemed to see anything out of the ordinary. He had talked to a doctor, a big horse he was unlikely to ever forget. For a few seconds to the sheriff it seemed to glimpse the stallion's two yellow eyes in the profoundest, unreachable darkness.
Moving forward, his big Great Dane ears did not miss subtle, high-pitched gasps. 
Chip tensed like a rope and braced himself for the worst. He followed the noise, trying to get his bearings as best he could. 
With each step he took, the moans increased in intensity. 
Chip swallowed and continued undaunted with his finger on the trigger quivering to click. 
Drops of cold sweat dripped from his forehead, his eyelids blinked tightly and his heart pumped blood that had all the appearance of being composed largely of pure terror.
In a quiet county under Chip's adjudication, nothing had ever happened to bring him to such an ambiguous situation. 
Approaching the origin of the sound, the sheriff sensed interesting new details.
The gasps he had heard until then sounded muffled and foggy; on the contrary, now they were clearly discernible.
A soft cry mixed with a muddy noise. Then flat, dull sounds, like a foot on a puddle after a good downpour.
-What the hell is that? -, he wondered. At that point his impatience to understand what was happening was slowly overcoming his fear.
This prompted him to move faster while maintaining the appropriate caution. His evolved canine nose, as he got even closer to where it all began, was pinched by bitter, metallic particles.
-More blood-, the sheriff deduced without hesitation.
At that point his finger was never so tempted to tighten on the trigger. 
Sheriff Chip saw for the first time a cone of light not too far away. It was moonlight, too dim to illuminate the entire corridor. 
Moans of pain and agony came from it. 
-They sound like the screams of the cursed, - Chip thought, a step away from the light.
There was a hallway, the door was open, the sounds came from right there.
Maybe there was still someone there, lurking, ready to take his gun and punish him for his bravery. He reflected on how easy it would be to confuse his courage with some of the most trivial and purest idiocy.
He leaned his back against the wall, right at the edge of the door. With his weapon well and truly loaded and eager to clear a few rounds, Sheriff Chip prayed that he could see his wife and children one more time. Then he entered.
"Man up, whoever you are! I command you to stop!" he shouted and pointed the revolver from side to side.
The agonized groans ceased for a moment before beginning again with increased power. Chip winced so much that the gun flew out of his hands.
"Sheriff! CHIP!"
"Please Sheriff, I need....of..." 
Radio interference. Confusing words. And then wailing and crying.
Without any weapon, in almost complete absence of light. Sheriff Chip was overwhelmed by so many events one by one.
He turned off the radio from which Eddie's cries came. In the future he would regret it greatly.
Then he darted his gaze around the room and observed minutely. Meanwhile, he was panting and his legs were shaking.
A stench of death reached him from the left. Chip looked in that direction. It was too dark to see anything there.
"Help...," gurgled someone, as if he was submerged.
Chip heard it immediately and pointed his flashlight accordingly.
The discovery ravaged him at several points, dazed him at others, and startled him at still others.
He saw a small blue creature slumped to the ground. He saw its torso contract to breathe. Then he pointed to the floor, there was blood, feces, and what seemed for all intents and purposes just to be piss.
"What the fuck happened here...," the Dane merely said, caught off guard.
He took a few steps forward, and the light revealed more gruesome details to him.
The creature was so small that it had to be a child.
The sheriff leapt with the light to the edge of the bed. On the hanging label there were identifying details that might have helped him.
"Name: Ravyn, 8 years old, skin lesion on right foot, prognosis restricted." , the sheriff read aloud. 
Then he shined the light back on the body.
"Oh my God...," he whispered in disbelief.
The child was naked, and his anus was fully dilated. It was also reddened, riddled with sores and gashes. It was dripping with some liquid.
"What have they done to you...," the sheriff whimpered, walking up to him.
"He's still breathing!" he exclaimed and quickly grabbed the radio. It almost slipped from his sweaty palms as well.
"Dispatch, I confirm call 12B without any doubt, this is an emergency...," he exclaimed and realized how gruesome the scene was. 
"Tracy...," he then said referring to the county centranilist.
"Call for backup and an ambulance. Immediately. Over," he concluded.
"This is Central, copy, they're on their way immediately. Over." replied the little voice from the radio.
"Roger, over and out," Chips concluded. 
Then he tuned to another frequency. The switch took place in an instant.
"Eddie? I'm the sheriff! Are you receiving me? Over." he said. Only interference and silence.
"Eddie do you read me? Over." he repeated again and again.
During the long, exhausting wait for Eddie to show up, the sheriff knelt over the child to try to help him. 
There was a terrible smell, and Chip's super nose proved to be a double-edged sword for him.
He breathed through his mouth and an acidic, dry air burned his throat. He nearly vomited all over the child.
He grabbed him by what felt like wings and turned him around to position him sideways so that his tongue would not get stuck in the throat and keep his breathing from working properly.
Yet another discovery that night overwhelmed Chip's poor heart almost to the point of crashing. The Great Dane fell backward in fright. His officer's butt crashed to the piss-soaked floor and slid almost three feet toward the door.
"Fuck!"he blurted out. The flashlight rolled under the bed projecting its light across the room.
Panting, Chip rushed to retrieve it. He reached out like a snake and caught up the flashlight with his fingertips. He rolled it toward himself and finally grabbed it. He noticed at that instant that his entire uniform had become drenched. An acrid, pungent smell added to those that were already in there.
He framed the child again, who viewed from further away was no better.
He was indeed breathing, and Chip believed it was a miracle. The baby's mouth was filled with brown feces divided into pieces of different size and density. The more liquid parts were scattered near where he had been resting his face all that time, while the apparently harder parts were inside his mouth and very presumably in his throat as well. 
Chip's brain was grazed by the idea that the feces might have gone into his stomach as well. 
The speculation made him shake and tremble like a frail and helpless leaf.
From the radio finally emerged in sounds in the worst moment ever.
Chip did not listen much longer, his concentration was all on something else. Then, however, he noticed that something was strange.
For a moment the sheriff thought he was on the wrong frequency, but when he checked, another syringe with copious doses of panic slammed into his intravenous without any hesitation.
From Eddie's radio came a ravenous growl, and laughs. Chuckles, and then more voracious growling.
And then, without any warning, a voice that sounded impossibly close to Eddie was heard.
"Eddie has given his resignation. You can find his things near the generator, if you like," a deep, dark voice, also distorted by the walkie-talkie. Then a long breath, and the exhale spreading over the microphone. Chip could have sworn he smelled it coming from his device.
"You can come see him next to the generator," the voice concluded and closed the communication.
Chip stood dumbfounded and stunned. He felt unable to handle the situation. He felt he was the one in the wrong on an occasion like that. He promised himself that once he got out of there, if he ever got out alive, he would consider the option of relinquishing his role as sheriff. Then, perhaps, the gold star would have found a worthy successor.
But not him, he repeated himself. He was not suited for such things and he would never have been one. 
He sat on the puddle of piss waiting for help, intent on staring at the child in front of him, checking if he was still breathing. 
When the ambulance was late in arriving, the Dane approached the child again, holding his nose from breathing.
He stretched his hands over the child's mouth and from there began to pick up some shit and throw it on the floor beside him. His gold wedding ring became smeared with dung, as well as his fingers.
He tried to clear the child's throat in a desperate attempt to give him enough time to survive before rescue arrived.
"They'll have to help me as well!" he exclaimed, somehow finding the strength to joke.
He could not even explain how many handfuls of shit that night had subtracted from that little dragon's mouth. He shoveled feces relentlessly until he heard the baby breathing.
A few minutes later, the long-awaited help finally arrived.
A group of armed officers and paramedics made their way into the dark hospital with flashlights and a great hurry.
They found Sheriff Chip yelling at them, calling to them from a hallway in the rehabilitation ward.
The officers looked at each other in amazement; they had never heard their sheriff shout that way before.
They arrived promptly, occupying the entire room and creating a security perimeter.
The paramedics rushed inside first. And although they were much more accustomed than the sheriff to certain grisly incidents, they had to update their very personal list of trauma at work when they saw the state in which that child was stagnating. They spread out the stretcher and prepared to load him. The stench had drawn flies that came in through the window that faced outwards.
Their annoying buzzing only made the atmosphere worse than it already was.
"Sheriff, there's something else here!" one of the deputies became alarmed. Chip joined him in his soupy, fetid uniform. 
In the darkest part of the room, behind the wall that separated the door from the rest, in the corner where the sheriff once entered had not dared to shine a light, another body was also lying.
This one, however, without a doubt, was no longer breathing.
"A nurse...," the deputy said coldly.
"A poor innocent bunny." raised the sheriff even more seriously.
"Now everyone listen to me!" he ordered. He placed himself in the center of the room, behind him the only source of natural light struck the uniform on his back highlighting its stains.
"One group will go with the paramedics and they'll protect them, another group will come with me!" he said.
"What else happened?" demanded an alarmed officer.
The sheriff noticed only then that his hat was lying only at one side of the room. He picked it up and put it on, then looked the concerned deputy in the face.
"Eddie, to the generator," he merely said. No one dared ask any more questions. They were too upset and shocked to even try.
The child on the stretcher was loaded without delay and urgently transferred to the city's other hospital, while Chip, alongside his team, headed to the general generator.
They followed the trail without a care for silence. They were five armed and trained officers; the fear of making little noise had long since abandoned them.
Reaching the stairs, Chip found more bloodstains. They were definitely fresher. He deduced that they must belong to Eddie; there were few other possible explanations.
They hurriedly descended the stairs, and even with as many as five flashlights lit, very little could be seen. 
The deafening sound of their footsteps echoed through the entire floor of stairs until the group came to a turn. Chip, despite being the oldest and most exhausted of all, reached the basement floor first. 
There the air grew heavy to the point of pressing on his lungs, and it smelled stale and stagnant damp, like a marsh.
It was a deserted place, inhabited by rats and cockroaches. A corner of the hospital where natural light had never dared to penetrate, and where blackness ruled unchallenged.
With flashlights pointing forward, the five officers, step by step, went deeper, following the trail of the suspects and Eddie. 
"Just boxes and other junk," muttered one agent. The others nodded. Chip did not deign to add anything; he only felt like finding out what had happened and getting out of there as soon as possible.
As he moved through the dungeon, the weight of his responsibilities combined with the boulder of age rested on his back forcing him into a hunched, untidy posture.
Seen in that condition, with his dirty and filthy uniform, a gaunt and fearful face, and a shaky gait, he did not do justice to the valiant years of service for which everyone had cultivated a high regard for him and his career.
"This way." he muttered under his breath. 
Reaching a fork in the road, he pointed his flashlight at the ground and illuminated the crossroad leading to the right. The only one that had blood-soaked tiles.
A couple of officers, the ones closest to him, covered their noses because of the stench emanating. They followed him while maintaining a safe distance.
"Eddie, do you copy, over." said the sheriff after reestablishing communication with his deputy.
Nothing more could be heard from the other side.
-I told you to be careful, I told you. Damn it!-, the sheriff cursed himself and gritted his teeth almost to the point of breaking them.
After a brief wander through that dank, dark ravine, where the walls acted as sounding boards for the cries of the creatures that inhabited those filthy places, the group finally came to a crucial turning point.
What drew them in, was the sound propagating from what sounded like a police radio.
"It must be Eddie's," the sheriff ascertained.
They followed the source of the noise like truffle dogs, and waiting for them, in the worst way a sheriff like Chip could observe in his life, lay a body in a pool of blood. 
The same officers who plugged their noses, this time closed their mouths to contain their expressions of surprise. 
The others merely stood motionless and whispered guesses about the possible victim.
Only Chip and his faithful flashlight remained focused on the corpse.
The sheriff approached it, not sure if he could withstand another shock. This was the time he was going to get killed by it too.
"Eddie...Eddie...," he called to it, and touched him with the tip of his flashlight. 
But the body did not move. He was sprawled upside down, posed ready for the best sleep of his life.
"Dead." the sheriff said. And his blue eyes immediately framed two holes in the neck. 
"The generator is there!" one of the officers pointed. They had all stayed behind, all except Chip.
The sheriff sighed in an angry and at the same time frightened sigh, then stood up and rested his hand on the generator lever.
It was an old model, too old for a hospital. Full of rust and with the LEDs turned off.
Everything in the place looked as if it had stood motionless and identical to 50 years earlier.
The sheriff leaned with the weight of his body and pushed down, sparks splashed on his arm. An icy noise, like the blowing of an ice giant, propagated from the pile of scrap metal.
The lights came back on after a few seconds, and Eddie's body, just under one of the few bulbs there, became visible to everyone.
Chip folded in on himself and held back with great difficulty the third retch of that evening. He felt his stomach being pummeled, and ever since he had seen the boy upstairs, he felt as full as if the one stuffed with shit was himself.
When he got up after the sudden intestinal attack, his eyes landed on the wall facing Eddie's corpse and the generator above the deputy.
There was writing on it. The letters dripped downward, overcome by gravity. The lettering was perfect, as if a typewriter had daubed the wall with those words.
Chip read and re-read, the message was right for him. 
<Do YOU LIKE THE SURPRISE, SHERIFF?">written with the blood of the poor Deputy Eddie.


Chip dropped to his knees, and the guilt mixed with the terror of the experience tore at him from within.
A moment later he broke out in agonized weeping.
Ravyn was taken to the city's emergency room, the second and only one left in which they could have saved his life.
He remained in the operating room for hours without his mother's permission, the surgeon who was called in the middle of the night rushed in and began the procedures without any permission.
Ravyn's mother was contacted the next morning, and to the attending nurse seemed really strange when the woman did seem to be not alarmed.
As luck or misfortune has it, the entire emergency room was packed with patients. Apparently the doctor at the main hospital, the one in which Ravyn had been raped, had given the unquestionable order that all patients should be moved. 
The child found a seat only because of his extremely serious condition.
The doctors barely saved him thanks to a gastric and intestinal lavage that deprived him of the feces and piss clogged in his small stomach.
They pumped him up with penicillin to prevent bacteria and infections from running their course freely, and hooked him up to steel lungs to supply him with oxygen that his poor, tiny lungs were unable to gather and process.
His anus was torn in several parts and showed clear signs of rape. There was seminal fluid in large doses as well as feces and piss in abundance. 
The surgeon, after an operation that lasted a full 10 consecutive hours, left the baby in the hands of the nurses.
Ravyn sank into a deep coma.
Beside him, even the child could not know it, laid a small tiger of his own acquaintance.
James had been found in the same condition as his little dragon friend, although unlike the latter, the assailants had not stuffed him like a shit pie.
The tiger was not in a coma, but his dormant state gave every indication of being so.
The little dragon's mother calmly showed up the morning after the operation, and when she took her first steps into the new hospital, a great deal of exhaustion was easily readable in her face.
With her faithful heels, she shrugged off the massive flow of patients and attendants clogging the lobby.
She reached the reception desk where she finally found someone to greet her.
This one, a menacing-looking brute, informed her of the plan and room.
She huffed and did not even say thank you; her feet were already pointed in the direction of the elevator.
Ravyn, poor little Ravyn, remained in a vegetative state for entire weeks. During these days spent in total darkness, the child dreamed horrible things. And as evidence of this, there were the severe signs that his heart manifested through a heart meter very similar to the one in the other hospital. This one was just an older model.
"This baby is going to make me damned! You can't even imagine how much it costs me to have him treated here-our insurance doesn't cover eventualities like that! Why me...," mumbled Ravyn's mother.
All she did was moan and circle the room like a crow flitting over a corpse.
She waved her arms and raised her tone of voice as if someone cared about her.
There were 3 other beds in the room, with other patients attached.
They were all in a serious state, their lives hanging by a thin, almost transparent thread.
Along with James, there were both of his two parents, who, at least on the surface, were showing much more concern than Ravyn's mother was with her little son.
James' father was crying more than anyone else in the room; he was desperate. He did not believe that such things could happen so close to him and his family.
He, too, had heard about the attacks from the notorious aggressors, but he had never thought that his son might be a victim of them.
His wife, on the contrary, had always feared the worst. But her recommendations had been to no avail; she had succumbed to her son's authoritative tone and left him free to go and visit his little friend.
The guilt was devouring her soul. It was the only explanation for the burning she felt inside her sternum.
Her husband, besides suffering, was hatching with jealousy a pronounced sense of justice.
A great desire to find the culprits and make them pay took possession of him. He would kill them if he had the chance. He would have bought himself a gun and flushed them out personally. He would succeed where the police had failed miserably.
As the air reached a new peak of maximum tension, a tapping was heard.
Ravyn's mother, alert and constantly on the lookout, turned suddenly.
In front of her, near the entrance, stood none other than the county sheriff, the egregious hero Chip.
A moment later James's parents turned as well; the father's eyes were too wet and misty to see properly.
"Am I disturbing?" the sheriff asked politely, modulating his voice so that it was as unobtrusive as possible.
"Not disturbing at all, sheriff!" joked Ravyn's mother, questioning the role of the newly arrived Dane.
Indeed, Sheriff Chip, no longer seemed to be Sheriff Chip.
Sure, he still had blue hair, and wore the golden star denoting his rank; his Great Dane face full of white hair looked exactly the same.
But it seemed to everyone that in the night just past, the sheriff had aged at least 20 years.
He had wrinkles and marked dark circles under his eyes, many more than Ravyn's mother.
He was hunched forward, and his stride once he entered the room appeared weak and unsure. More importantly, he was not wearing a uniform, although at that hour, 10 a.m., everyone was aware that he was on duty.
"I appreciate your irony, Mrs. Arcadia Valos," Mr. Chip replied curtly, showing everyone that at least his sharp tongue remained in place. 
"In fact I admire it, I wouldn't feel like joking at such a moment for anything in the world, especially if your intentions are to challenge my role as sheriff," Chip added. 
Ravyn's mother, Mrs. Arcadia Valos, fell silent, already regretting having challenged the Great Dane.
"But unlike you, Mrs. Arcadia Valos, I didn't come to argue. I genuinely dropped by to see what condition the two children are in..."
Chip advanced toward the first bed, the James bed.
The baby's mother rose with a snap and encircled the sheriff in a warm embrace. Her weeping spilled over Chip's shoulder.
"Thank you for saving him, thank you!" sobbed the tiger.
Chip squeezed her politely.
"Eddie...," was his first response, "you should thank my deputy, he was the one who found James a few hours before they called us from the hospital."
"Where is he now?" the woman asked, raising her head again. Her eyes were moist and her lips were trembling.
"His funeral will be held today at 4 p.m. sharp at the church," Chip replied coldly. He had been crying all night, and now he had run out of tears.
"You bastards! They were the same ones, weren't they?" ranted James's father. He had gotten up and wiped his face with his arm.
"The same ones who attacked my little James, weren't they?" added the tiger-haired enforcer.
"Yes, they claimed three victims last night. We were too late, I'm sorry." the sheriff murmured solemnly, and for a moment he felt he might have cried again if only he had succumbed to temptation.
"Maybe he would have been better off letting them die," whispered Mrs. Arcadia Valos, and Sheriff Chip was closer than ever to using violence on a public citizen without a gostified reason.
James's father turned around with smoke billowing from his nostrils. Filled with anger he prepared to burst out.
"YOU! BRUTAL BITCH!" he screamed at her suddenly. With great strides he reached her in an instant.
Chip, to avoid the worst, tackled him from behind and tightened his grip. 
He tried to contain it as best he could, but the behemoth surpassed him by 10 centimeters in height and 20 kilograms in weight.
Mrs. Arcadia Valos rubbed her butt on the stool to make herself comfortable and crossed her legs, ignoring the tiger that could have run over her at any moment.
She assumed a haughty pose with her neck extended and her chin stretched upward.
"Stop, calm down!" exclaimed Chip.
The tiger restrained himself only to avoid endangering the children's safety. But if the sheriff had not been there, things would have been considerably worse, of that everyone was convinced.
At that exact moment, James warbled unintelligible verses and attention shifted to him. The sheriff, shortly thereafter, moved on to Ravyn's bed.
Seeing that little dragon again brought to his mind smells and images that would reluctantly accompany him throughout his life. A bitter and painful symptom of life as a sheriff.
He noticed how handsome he looked in the face, now that he was no longer covered in feces.
He appreciated the Arcadia Valos color of his blue skin, now that it was no longer dirty and impregnated with piss.
Ravyn was truly one of the prettiest children that he had ever seen in his life.
"Are you going to keep staring at him much longer?" cawed the baby's mother.
Chip gave her an aggressive look and walked away. But first, he looked one last time at Ravyn, and wished him the best in his recovery. Then he greeted the others in the same polite tone as when he had introduced himself, and went away.
Mrs. Arcadia Valos did not return the greeting, and James's father's urge to pounce on her returned. 
The only thing that changed his mind was his son's semi-conscious state.






Act 3
After 3 months of convalescence Ravyn reluctantly returned to his home, the place where it all began. He spoke hardly at all and walked even less. He suffered constant and excruciating muscle pains, but the real damage he endured on a daily basis was psychological. 
He was constantly pondering, his brain was doing nothing but thinking and reflecting on what happened to him that night. Certain areas of his memory were blank, as if pieces were missing. But others, on the contrary, were instead very sharp.
He sensed on his palate the taste of Gerard's feces, woke up every night believing his mouth was full and he could not breathe. 
His ass often burned, and the memories of the wolf humping him came back vivid and terrifying. He heard their cries and voices everywhere, and saw their shadows wherever he looked. 
For Ravyn, Gerard and his trusty Buster had not disappeared at all, for he continued to hear them and peer at them again and again. Nor could anything assure him whether those he perceived were figments of imagination or simply the bitter reality.
Ravyn, at only 8 years old, sank into an abyss of isolation and depression. 
He got the news that James, his close friend, despite being in a less serious condition than him, had still not recovered and was barely eating any food. 
News also reached him of Polly, who had been raped to death. And of Eddie, the officer killed in the line of duty.
But interesting fact, no more news of rape in the city came to him. 
By the time eight months of rehabilitation and slow agony had passed, there was no more talk of child rape in the city. 






Act 4
Ravyn spent the worst year of his life up to that point. He celebrated his ninth birthday in his room without cake, friends or any celebration.
His mother did not even remember, and to be honest, the woman spent most of her days out of the house doing who knows what.
For Ravyn this was the only bright spot in his redundant days. At the very least, his ears were not under the constant machine-gunning that came out of his mother's mouth.
He had not gone to school since the day of the accident, his mother did not buy him any books to read nor alternatively any games or other such stuff.
"Useless stuff!" thundered the dragoness when Ravyn dared to put a request to her.
From that moment the child had desisted from continuing.
On the very day of his ninth birthday, the child decided he had enough.
The main reason, as can be guessed, was his own mother. 
This one barged into his room without any warning, as she often liked to do when she remembered having a child.
"Ravyn!" she blurted out once she had him in front of her. She positioned herself in front of him with her arms crossed and an evil witch's expression.
"Do you realize you're wasting your life in that damn bed? Don't you disgust yourself? Do you think things will get better if you keep curling up there doing nothing? Huh? ANSWER ME!" she shouted without pausing, and without giving her son time to respond she continued undaunted.
"When I see you I wonder what went so wrong, it's been a year since the incident but you just play the victim, constantly the victim! Do you think you are the only one who has had a bad time? Your father, dear stupid brat, he left because of you!"
Her tone of voice grew louder and louder at the same time.
Ravyn plugged his ears with all the strength at his disposal, but his mother's voice penetrated his defenses because of the sharp, high pitch.
"I hope you understand now! Yes, it's only your fault that your father abandoned me! You're a bastard, that's what you are, just a filthy ungrateful bastard! If it weren't for me, you'd be on the streets being a beggar! Instead you're in a bed, under a cozy roof, and how do you thank me? Standing cooped up in this room without even talking to me? You will never become a man..."
The last words came out of her mouth with large drops of saliva.
The woman caught her breath and hesitated a little before continuing.
"Sometimes I think it would have been better if those two pedophiles had killed you, now you wouldn't be wasting your life and I wouldn't be standing every day watching you become a useless being."
She caught her breath again.
"Useless, useless!" she repeated at the top of her voice. 
Ravyn, stunned and angry, simply suffered. What he had just experienced had been the signal he had needed. 
-I will not suffer her anguish again-, he told himself later as he packed a dark leather suitcase. 
-I will not allow her to yell such things at me. How can there be such a bitchy, wicked mother?
Ravyn searched and found the suitcase the day after the rant he had with his mother. 
In a time slot when the dragoness used to stay out of the house, Ravyn took the opportunity to put into action the plan he had devised the night before.
He took the leather suitcase from the closet in his parents' bedroom. It was pure dark brown leather and large enough to hold a child the size of the little dragon.
Inside it, in a secondary compartment, Ravyn discovered a paper note. On it were some words written probably in ink, and which had therefore worn down almost to the point of disappearance. 
He read only an <I love you>, and the o was partially invisible.
-Maybe it's from Dad, or it's from Mom...if I'm not mistaken, she had told me that they used this suitcase for their honeymoon...when she told me, I didn't even know what honeymoon meant.-
Pausing only to ponder more or less amusing anecdotes, Ravyn tore the slip of paper into many small pieces that he let degrade on the floor of the room.
He carried the suitcase into the room, pulling it by the leather sleeve, which proved a rather arduous imprint.
Ravyn spread the 24-hour on the floor and began to put everything in it that seemed useful and would enable him to survive as long as possible away from that witch.
"I'm sure she won't even come after me...that one can't wait for me to go away, otherwise what reason would there be to talk to me like that...," the child muttered aloud. 
"If truth be told, I wouldn't mind those two kidnapping me again...after all, they were the ones who wanted me the most in my whole life."
Ravyn realized what had come out of his own mouth.
"I can't believe that a pedophile horse gave me more compliments in one night than my mother gave me in my whole life...how on earth did that happen?"
The child, as if fueled by a deep sense of wrath, began to put on clothes and supplies without regard to neatness or the available space. 
He stuffed everything he had on hand, no ifs or buts.
His little cock, in memory of Gerard, hardened and began to press under his nightwear.
"My mother is nothing but a useless, insignificant adult!" the child ranted.
Then he walked around his little room in a disturbing and unintentional imitation of his mother.
"How did I manage to survive with her for so long! How on earth did I do it?"
Having reached the height of his pissed-off state, Ravyn calmed his boiling tempers and let the bad thoughts about his mother cease at least long enough to finish packing his suitcase. 
Once the invalidation was completed, the boy pondered another crucial detail. 
He dragged the suitcase with supplies to the entrance, its weight now that it was filled was at least double. 
Between slight gasps and a few drops of sweat, Ravyn crossed the hallway and reached the front door. He felt satisfied and also quite proud of his initiative. 
It had been a year since he had embarked on such an adventure. 
Although he was more than sure that no experience would ever surpass in intensity and emotion the one he had experienced in the hospital with Gerard and Buster.
Without any apparent explanation the child wandered between the kitchen and the living room like a ghost in search of the breakthrough that might lead him to leave the earthly world.
In a thinker's pose, with index finger and thumb on his protruding chin, the child was intent on reasoning out a detail he had not calculated until that moment.
-Should I make a note for that bitch?- was the first question and the beginning of it all.
The idea came to him because of a very similar scene that occurred in one of the many movies Ravyn had watched during that year of family incarceration.
In the movie, almost the same thing was happening, except in that case, the fights took place between father and son instead of between mother and brat.
-It always happens that way in movies...the father is involved, always and only the dad...as if moms couldn't be bitches in their own way. Mine is worse than all those fake fathers on TV combined. I'd get Mom some auditions if I could, I'd definitely get her in some witch or hag role...-
Ravyn walked and brooded deeply.
-Oh yes now I've got a great urge to write the letter, and I know exactly what I'm going to write in it. It''ll be my chance to hurt that bitch in the worst possible way I know...-
On the little boy's face, behind his apparent side of tender, sweet little dragon, there popped out a little devil that could hurt as well as he was being hurt. 
He ran for a paper and pen and began to write without wasting time.
He pulled out the little pink tongue and let it drop downward. He narrowed his eyes until they were two slits and prepared to pour out armed with ink all the hatred he had for his mother.
It began, continued, and ended exactly like this:


Dear bitch, 
I am leaving home, now, right now, immediately. I am spending my last seconds in this hellish cage I have shared with you for all these years, and the desire to run away has never been so delightful and satisfying. 
I no longer want to see your hideous face that continues to age, nor do I want to listen to your stupid screams anymore. You are a crazy shrew, I hate being your son and I hate you. I enjoy knowing that you will be alone in this hovel. Besides, being raped by those two guys a year ago opened my eyes to how much you disgusted me. They, and I repeat, THEY, complimented me...they lusted after me more than you ever did! 
Try calling the police or whoever you like, but I will never come back here...I would rather die than live another day of my existence with you. I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU! 
One last thing before I go away forever. 
Daddy didn't leave you because I was born...oh no my stupid mommy, he left you because you are crazy! Because all you can do is yell and spit poison at anyone who tries to interact with you! You are sour, grumpy, moody and neurotic! I HATE YOU!
                                                                                                                      
                                                                             I am no longer your son, Ravyn.


Ravyn let the pen roll across the table. The paper remained before his eyes, motionless. The ink dried up in an instant.
The child became aware of the pain in his hand only after a few seconds of intense eye contact with the words he had written moments earlier. 
He finally felt content and complete. He felt worthy of leaving home, and that he had valid reasons for doing so. 
He waved his little hand to make the burning go away and walked out of the kitchen. There on the table, the paper lay silent, waiting to be read.
If the piece of paper would have eyes on it, he would have seen Ravyn, the child who had written on it just before, turn around, continue in the direction of the entrance, then pick up his suitcase, look at the walls and the pictures one last time before opening the door, leave, and close it tightly behind him.
But the paper had no eye, and no one but Ravyn knew that he had run away forever. His life as a wanderer had just begun.






Act 5
"Ravyn the wanderer! It fits me like a gloomy name!" the child said as he trotted up the driveway.
The neighbor across the street, Mr. Joshua, was intent on pruning as realistically as possible a large green bush that was slowly taking the shape of a giant dinosaur. 
The weasel, noticing that his shears had suddenly stopped cutting, stopped to analyze them and figure out what was wrong.
Whistling a cheerful tune and keeping the beat by banging his foot on his millimeter-shaved garden, he did not even accidentally notice that his obnoxious neighbor's son, baby Ravyn, had gone out carrying a large travel suitcase with no one to accompany him.
There was a nine-year-old boy on the run and no one saw him walking merrily toward the center of town. 
It was Sunday. Everyone had gone to church except Joshua and a few others who seemed to be busy with some special business.
Because of this, Ravyn began his journey at a brisk pace, without interruptions or some stupid adult disturbing him.
The quarter past ten sun hit him on the head from the moment he put his paw outside the house. 
For the start of his adventure Ravyn chose a very tight purple tank top, a pair of ankle-length pants, and finally a purple jacket with teal hues on the wrists. 
He chose the clothes haphazardly, but anyone would confirm that the child was absolutely charming. A delightful little 9-year-old drake who would have made anyone gluttonous. 
Ravyn would have appealed to anyone, but especially to someone in direct sunlight, at an intuitive distance from him, watching him with minute care.
He was licking his whiskers that creature, hiding in bright light where everyone could see and notice him. That was precisely why no one would pay attention. 
He rubbed his hands impatiently, then felt his hard cock hidden under his underwear, and in the meantime he thought and reflected.
He brooded thoughtfully. He stared at the innocent, vulnerable child who was walking away. A year had passed, a long year, in which he had watched him every day and every night. He had written about him, dreamed about him, talked about him...but had not spoken to him...had not touched him...not yet.
There were tears in his eyes from joy and longing. Happiness in the form of tears. Fear of not being able to reach him in time, but also fear of being seen.


And he kept watching him walk away. He admired his lovely blue tail as it waved in the wind...and then his wings, thin and fragile. 
His thin, soft neck. His little ass.
Just a little more... just a very little more... the wait was over. 
Until that moment, the creature in the hot sun had not entered the house. Or maybe he had. 
Yes he had. He had done it many times. So many times. 
But he had not touched him, oh no, he could not touch him. He just couldn't.
No no, he did with his head and with his finger. 
He would never, never do that.
He would have wanted to do it so badly, though. To squeeze that neck with his hands until he broke it. Then caress him, gently. Fuck him, until he came back from the dead.
He had stared at him every night, close up, a step away from his little bed. 
He had watched him with the same attention a father would have given him. Love and respect. 
But a thin, almost invisible thread kept him from jumping on him.
Ravyn...Ravyn...whispered the creature in the little one's ear every magnificent night. 
The moon was barely there, then it was full, but the creature was always there. A stone's throw from Ravyn, a palm away from his round, childlike face.
I wonder if it is soft? The creature constantly wondered.
You are mine Ravyn, you just don't know it. For a year, you are mine, completely mine. You can go wherever you like, I don't care. But you are mine, I will follow you wherever you go...and I will take you when I decide.
I desire you Ravyn.
The creature had snickered, hiding in the dimness of Ravyn's room on the night of his birthday.
It had brought him a gift, a fantastic gift.
The creature had risen and was no longer hidden in the darkness. He was tall and his shadow under the moon's rays extended all the way to the back of the room. 
The creature was naked, completely naked. He moved to Ravyn's side, and then began to touch himself. 
He harnessed his phallus, dense with blood, and began to masturbate. 
He masturbated with both hands, moaning under his breath, his back hunched forward and his glans a palm away from Ravyn's face.
His big hands traveled fast over the dick, and the gasps of enjoyment became louder and louder.
Then the creature stopped suddenly. He heard the click of a switch. He turned his head mechanically toward the front door of the room, and there below he saw the hallway light.
"She woke up...," hissed the creature. 
"She often disturbs us...too frequently...," he continued through gritted teeth.
Then he turned his topaz-yellow eyes in the direction of his love. He turned his head from side to side and licked his lips.
"I will return Ravyn...as always, I am yours and you are mine...," he whispered with his jaws wide open.
He returned to an upright position, turned and walked toward the window. Keeping his gaze fixed on the little child.
Without making a sound, the creature opened the new Ravyn window and slowly stepped outside. 
"Just a little more...just a little more...," said the creature as it slid nimbly off the roof.
Then he snickered, and once he got down he also began to laugh with his head turned upward. And Ravyn trembled in that instant, as if his brain had sensed the danger. 
The creature slid home as quickly as he had come. He did it in an instant, in the time when everyone was sleeping blissfully in their beds believing they were safe.
The creature sneered again, "No one is safe...," and retreated to his abode as if nothing had happened.






Act 6
Ravyn's first stop was a Bar in the old city center. It was certainly not the nicest Bar, nor was it the cleanest, but the child was hungry and decided that that one was just fine after all.
Arriving in front of the entrance, he noted with pleasure that there was no line except for a uniformed officer busy consuming coffee and staring at his cell phone. He hummed, ignoring what was occurring around him.
Ravyn pondered whether it would still be a good idea to go in and order something. 
-He might get curious...I should be in school at this time, - was the first thing he thought.
Then he turned a glance at the counter and some juicy peanut butter donuts displayed behind the display case.
-They look really good, geez...-.
From his stomach emerged gasps that were nothing short of gloomy.
The child lowered his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a $5 bill. 
-Who cares if he sees me, I'm hungry and I have the money to buy that doughnut...that officer can't blame me for anything...-, Ravyn reflected, proud of his prodigious acumen.
"We are in a free country," he said softly. Then he shrugged his shoulders with an invisible weight and entered.
The suitcase remained motionless by the front door.
No one heard the baby enter. And when the elephant at the counter found a new little customer in front of him, he nearly jumped in fright.
Ravyn stared menacingly at the fat man at the counter. His hatred for adults had been put aside long enough to buy a fantastic peanut butter donut.
The elephant, caught against time by the child, hesitated for a few seconds.
Then he cleared his throat. 
"Hello little one, what do you need?" he asked, sprinkling his voice with a sweet, honeyed glaze.
-These things don't work with me, - Ravyn immediately thought.
He continued to stare at the elephant. "I want a peanut butter donut...," he sentenced, " To take away."
The elephant wrinkled his nose. "A little education wouldn't hurt," he admonished him.
Ravyn did not respond.
The big gray guy stared blankly as if assessing his next move, then turned back to the officer. And at that very instant the little dragon's legs shook like two reeds in the wind.
"Hey Chip, but kids aren't supposed to be in school today," said the elephant.
The officer raised his head slowly. Ravyn saw that his face was tired and gaunt. Even the blue in his eyes seemed to be slowly disappearing.
He also noticed that he had a golden star on his chest on which was engraved <Sheriff Chip>.
Ravyn swallowed, and the terror of being discovered kept creeping up.
"What are you talking about?" asked Sheriff Chip, confused.
"I'm talking about this child here, don't you see!" replied the elephant, almost offended.
Chip turned with an unexpected snap. His icy eyes settled on the figure of the little dragon in front of him.
A horrifying image dawned on him at that exact instant. He had seen that face before, of course he had.
How could he have forgotten that night...how? 
"Ravyn...," stammered the sheriff Great Dane. 
Ravyn felt like a prison breaker being routed by jail officials. He turned abruptly and began to run wildly. 
He was so fast that his cry of surprise reached the elephant's ears when there was already no sign of him left in the Bar.
Ravyn ran wildly. He crossed the road without heeding the signs and almost ended up run over.
A couple of cars honked at him, but he had already lost them.
His young body allowed him to run at least 500 meters before he felt the first signs of fatigue. The pains in his paws and legs were a direct result of being locked in the house for an entire year.
Ravyn did not turn around to check on him, but he was more than certain Sheriff Chip was following him.
He also heard his late-career sheriff's screams, but they were distant.
Ravyn did slalom between passersby, avoided dozens of curious glances, and without realizing it reached one of the city's many parks. 
He climbed the two flights of stairs placed beside a statue depicting a figure important for the city intent on firing with a blunderbuss.
Ravyn chose the right staircase, and in a moment he reached the highest point. Once there he passed the gate and finally entered the green area.
He kept running in search of a favorable spot to hide.
His throat was dry and his tongue was hanging out, and by now he was waving his arms out of inaction.
He passed the series of benches placed beside the main path, reached the fountain and overtook that as well. 
It was a particularly massive tree that earned his trust. Ravyn chose it without a second thought, approached it and hid behind it.
He hunkered down under the shadow of the huge oak, curled up and let out a series of long, labored breaths.
-Oh heck...oh my, I was about to be discovered...-, he thought. 
He noticed that his legs and arms were still shaking from the adrenaline rush. He had not felt so excited and enraptured since...he thought about it carefully.
"For a year...," he muttered.
-Oh no, I forgot my suitcase! I forgot my suitcase at the Bar...how will I do it now...how will I do it...all my things were there. I can't go back and get them, I can't. The sheriff will surely have called someone, who in turn will have contacted my mother.-
Ravyn closed his hands into fists and began to lash out at the grass.
" DAMN IT!" he unleashed angrily.
"I don't want to go home...I don't want it!"
After draining the last of his energy by throwing punches at the ground, he lowered his head onto the log. 
"But why...," he said sobbing, "Why does that sheriff know me...why?"
With eyes bulging with tears, Ravyn slumped to the ground. 
He laid his little face on the thin layer of grass, then squinted his eyes and continued to sob softly. With his hands clasped together and his knees to his chest, he closed himself into a sort of shell.
The shade of the tree protected him from the sun and ensured that he absolutely did deserve a nap.






Act 7
The creature became frightened. He had risked losing his love, but he had run away and successfully avoided being captured.
"I can't risk it anymore," the creature said to himself.
He chased the child to the park. 
"That stupid sheriff didn't make it, but I did," he congratulated himself.
Then he sat down at a bench and watched his sweet little child lie down and doze off.
Smiling at him from afar, he then raised his hand. He opened his index finger and thumb and focused on him as if he had a camera.
He used his fingers like a press and crushed Ravyn's figure in the distance.
He smiled, and his teeth occupied his entire face from side to side.
Then he laughed heartily, opened his jaws wide, and burst into thunderous laughter.
A tear of joy slipped from his eye and fell unseen onto the grass, where it remained like early morning dew, Arcadia Valos[a] and light.






Act 8
Sheriff Chip lost sight of Ravyn within a minute of the chase. 
The child, though small, proved to be a far more skilled runner than he.
Chip stopped at the first turn, there he leaned against a beam and began wheezing.
With a worrying breath he called the station; from the secretary he got Ravyn's mother's number. He decided he would call her personally.
And so he did, but once he asked the woman about the strange event, Chip realized that the situation was more serious than he had assumed.
Thirty minutes later his car was parked in front of Ravyn's house, and he was already standing at the front door waiting for the owner to return from who knows where.
Once Ravyn's mother deigned the sheriff of her presence, and once they opened the door and entered, the discovery left both of them stunned, one for one reason, the other for a different.
Sheriff Chip rushed into the house first, and first he read the letter on the table.
The woman was offended by the Dane's bursting entrance.
"What are you going to do, Mr. Officer? Smash all my furniture? Besides, what nonsense is this that you saw Ravyn at the bar!"
The woman stirred like a pressure cooker, and her wrath seemed to subside only when, having entered the kitchen, she understood why the annoying silence perpetrated by the agent.
"What are you reading?!" the woman asked, alarmed, then made to approach.
She positioned herself beside the sheriff, craned her neck out to read.
She had time to decipher the first two lines, then Sheriff Chip, altered, threw the paper at her and ran out of the house.
"What is going on?" wondered Ravyn's mother in astonishment. 
Dazed, she bent down to pick up the paper that had flown to the ground.
By the time she finished reading, Sheriff Chip had set off at full speed and siren blaring in search of Ravyn.








Act 9
"Wake up wake up!"
Ravyn thought he heard something, but his pointed ears only twitched slightly to the side.
"Hey little one, you need to wake up..."
It was a voice, this time Ravyn was certain. He opened his eyes with immense effort, but what he saw brought him into a state of panic that made him regret having woken up.
The light was reddish. The warm sunset was casting its soft rays on Ravyn. 
The shadow of the tree had disappeared, the air had become cool and sharp, the noises all around had become as if heightened for some reason.
Ravyn sat up, some dry leaves flew off his chest.
He squinted his eyes, which at that moment were red and swollen. He massaged them but the pain did not mention going away. With a devouring slowness, the sad and bleak memories became vivid again and no longer just a scar healed by time.
Oh no, those painful and recent memories had not disappeared at all; quite the contrary. 
Everything came crashing down on the child with a sharp blow that nearly knocked him back into unconsciousness.
"Damn...I just went to sleep." He mumbled.
Ravyn looked around investigatively. 
Except for the colors and noises, he did not seem to see any difference around him.
More importantly, he did not seem to notice a sheriff intent on hounding him.
He breathed a sigh of relief and stood up supporting himself against the oak tree.
"But whose voice was that?" he suddenly wondered.
"I remember hearing it...it was not a dream."
The horrible, pressing feeling of being preyed upon again shrouded him in a dark, icy veil. 
The child, in the throes of a full-blown panic attack, remained catatonic staring at the space around him that was gradually becoming more and more confusing and distorted.
All the images acquired by his two blue eyes, were either elongated or crushed, or even both. Everything became incomprehensible, and Ravyn, all of a sudden stopped breathing regularly.
"What-" was the only word he could utter.
"Hello Ravyn, you look rather strange...", a warm, new voice.
Ravyn, the poor little drake, heard the words and was immediately attracted and simultaneously intrigued.
He recovered from his state of extreme confusion, and when he did, a tall, commanding figure stood before him. 
"Who are you?" he asked in a tone of voice very different from that used with the elephant a few hours earlier.
The creature, half hidden behind the tree and half hidden by a strange darkness, burst into a powerful laugh that left Ravyn stupefied.
"Oh my love...how long I have been waiting for this moment...for me it is an honor...," and the creature had to lick some drool dripping from his lips before continuing to speak, "forgive me, I meant it is an honor for me to be able to converse with you face to face."
The creature popped out a few inches at a time, and Ravyn, starved of curiosity, couldn't wait to know who that strange voice belonged to.
But then the idea flashed through his mind that it might be a deputy sent by the sheriff, but in that case, logic came to his rescue.
If it was indeed a sheriff's assistant, then why had he not taken advantage of his deep sleep state to take him into custody.
That was enough for Ravyn to stay where he was and keep listening to the stranger, who, in the meantime, had started talking again.
"Oh Ravyn, very few things make me as happy as helping small, innocent creatures like you," the stranger confided, and tiny ears as red as that evening's sunset popped out of the makeshift hiding place.
"How do you know?" asked Ravyn, betraying his childlike vulnerability.
"Step forward, you know, they might hear us," said the creature speaking in a very low tone of voice.
Ravyn concentrated hard but just could not figure out the identity behind that strange voice. Doubt arose in him because the voice in question was definitely an adult's, and on this Ravyn had nothing to investigate.
But it was at the same time light, playful...and magnetic.
"There is no one here who could hear us," Ravyn objected, struggling to hold on.
"You used to believe that before, but then I appeared," the creature debunked him, and Ravyn had to concede that the reply was more than satisfactory.
"And then, my dear Ravyn...," the voice started again.
"Wait a minute!" the child exclaimed after taking a step forward.
"How do you know my name?" he asked him back on the defensive.
"Uh oh, you're even smarter than I thought...but the answer is pretty obvious," said the creature, and a moment later the tip of what appeared to be his paw revealed itself to the child's eyes. 
It was tiny and clawless, plus the fingertips placed at the base were pink and quite inviting as well. 
"While you were sleeping you talked about yourself...all you did was repeat your name. You repeated Ravyn, Ravyn...as if, suddenly, even you did not know your real name."
The creature's words opened a small breach in Ravyn's armor. Now all that was needed was to widen the hole.
"You're on the run, aren't you? That pesky sheriff was following you...he wants to bring you home...," the voice began again.
"You want to take me home too, don't you!", Ravyn interrupted him.
"Oh no of course...," the voice reassured him, "In fact, I want to help you. You're out of food or water, with a couple of pennies in your pocket...and most of all, you're a fugitive."
It was the truth, Ravyn was really in trouble.
"I don't want to go home!" cried the child.
"I totally understand you Ravyn, I bet your mother doesn't love you and hurts you instead of helping you...I bet she ignores your problems and purposely invades your space..."
The creature hissed instead of speaking, the words came out of him like a black magic spell, and Ravyn, without explaining why, became increasingly spellbound.
That information represented a singular fact for him, for no one before that ambiguous individual hidden behind the tree had ever put before the problems Ravyn was forced to endure every day by actually treating them as problems.
Ravyn therefore finally felt understood and comprehended.
The renewed confidence that flowed from him, along with a large dose of respect, caused him to take another step forward.
The creature also took a step forward, and the light hit it up to the shoulder. Meanwhile, the other arm, the one placed on the other side, remained wrapped like a chain to the trunk.
"Tell me how you know these things," Ravyn burst out and took another step, "I need to know how you know them...my mother, do you know my mother?" the child was a step away from the creature, but still could not effectively distinguish its features.
"Oh but these questions reveal once again how intelligent you are...I hate those who think that 9-year-olds are unable to understand complex discourse like this."
Ravyn's eyes lit up, his lips trembled and a slight pallor colored his cheeks.
"But you must come closer...," the creature continued, and Ravyn seemed to see her bending its neck and head like a dummy. "I bet you'll get closer to me now than you have so far.
The words rang out like a hypnotic, sweet symphony that settled in Ravyn's ears and then in his brain, bending all his resistance to that seemingly irresistible call.
As if deprived of all armor and common sense, and under a veritable hypnotism, Ravyn succumbed to the creature's blandishments and came close enough to him to peer into its sinister gaze.
It was an otter, tall and thin, with short, graying brown fur. Endowed with a dazzling smile, perfect teeth embedded like diamonds in a wide mouth capable of sporting an expression that was equally disturbing and caring.
"Very good Ravyn, you move exactly as I intended you to...like a good boy, come here..."
The creature whispered and its sweet voice massaged the throbbing meninges of poor Ravyn, now exhausted from his brief adventure.
The child realized in that instant that sleep had not invigorated him at all, but rather had fed the needs that had been dormant until just before.
Hunger, thirst, above all.
The creature stretched out its arm and its long, slender fingers cleaved the air like the twigs of a tree.
"A hug, let me give you a hug...Ravyn...," it whispered and reached for him armed with its best smile.
It laid its fingertips on the child's head and felt like a dream from which he desperately wanted to wake up.
"I touched you, I touched you at last!"
"What?"
Ravyn recoiled for a moment, the creature had changed its tone and lost any magic. The hypnosis had broken.
"What do you want?"
The creature concealed its bitterness under a forced smile and finally came out into the open, arms raised upward and paws firmly planted on the grass.
"A hug from you, Ravyn!" cried the creature, and the child recognized it.
"Mr. Joshua...but it's you, what are you doing here? Why are you following me? What..."
Questions gripped Ravyn's fragile little brain. 
The child bent over in terror and a tremendous tummy ache. 
He felt his guts clench and bite, saliva stuck in his throat, and his eyes moistened.
Joshua, Ravyn's otter neighbor for years, pounced on the child with a maniacal leap.
The formless creature was equipped with long limbs and unexpected strength with which he forced Ravyn to surrender immediately.
Illuminated by the orange glow of the magnificent sunset, the child molester Joshua, the creature who had been meticulously watching his prey for the past year, had finally struck gold.
He tied little Ravyn by the wrists and ankles, squeezing the rope so tightly that shreds of skin came off and flew away. 
Then he gagged the child, stuffed him into a fairly large bag that seemed specially made to hold someone like Ravyn.
The little dragon suffered a series of surprises one after another.
That creature was his neighbor, and Ravyn was convinced he had seen him busy thinning his bushes that morning, and then nothing more. 
Was it possible that it had followed him there?
By now he was certain, there was no other explanation.
Ravyn tried to struggle inside the bag, but his limbs were locked and unable to perform complex movements, and his mouth could not produce more than a few incomprehensible moans.
"I got you, I got you!"
Joshua pranced across the park lawns as if this was the best day of his life. And the otter could have sworn it was for all intents and purposes.
All he had to do was hum a few silly ditties to cover the futile calls for help made by Ravyn, and in a flash he reached his car parked conveniently beside the park entrance.
Joshua opened the trunk wide with a discreet bullying and the shrill squeak of metal scraped the child's ears. 
The otter waved his hand at the bottom and removed some junk: dildos, underage luring candy and other junk. Once he made room, he occupied it again by resting Ravyn with an entirely unexpected delicacy.
"You must be perfect for when they come," Joshua murmured and Ravyn shivered.
A flash of coldness ran through him. Though he was in an undoubtedly unpleasant and dangerous situation, one realization in Ravyn's mind remained the same as before.
The child would rather be kidnapped by his wacky neighbor than stay at home with his mother. 
The thing that frightened him most, in fact, was the unpleasant detail that Joshua's house was right in front of his own, and that his mother might find out everything.
As Ravyn thought and rethought, the otter dropped a kiss in the back of his head that was parried by the fabric of the bag. 
Then he closed the door and headed for the steering wheel.
A few steps, one more door opened and a moment later it closed. The car lowering a few inches. A key slipped in the first time, Joshua had steady hands in situations that required his presence.
The roar of the car as it started, and then the settling one.
Ravyn heard everything from his dark lair, and when the light reappeared it seemed to him that the journey had lasted only a few seconds.






Act 10
Joshua proved maniacal and precise on this occasion as well. 
He prepared everything and took care of it down to the smallest detail, starting from the mood music down to the lighting. 
He transferred Ravyn to the guest room, where he left him hanging like a salami inside the closet.
"I'll be right back my love..." and stroked his cheek with the back of the hand "I have to fix some things downstairs, they are coming and everything has to be perfect!"
The otter had mimicked the stage curtains opening revealing the spectacle.
"Everything must be perfect." he repeated, punctuating each syllable and staring dully at a spot in the void.
Then he walked away, leaving Ravyn shivering and with an utterly unwelcome sight.
He was facing the windows, and right through them, it was visible to him to catch a glimpse of his house. 
He also noticed that beside the bed there was a huge telescope, and at the bottom of the latter lay unattended a packet of new tissues, and other used and crumpled ones scattered at random.
Last he also saw a package with a clear liquid inside, Ravyn sharpened his eyesight, and once he did he was pretty sure he read the word <Lubricant>.
He did not know what it was.
The silence that had so far come as a pleasant ally after that whisper of sudden events was abruptly interrupted by a loud fumbling downstairs.
Joshua had gone down to the basement where he had decided the whole thing would take place.
"No one will disturb us there, least of all that idiot Sheriff Chip," were his words when it came time to have his say.
It was late at night and Ravyn stood motionless trying to interpret the noises coming from below into information that might reveal to him what his neighbor was planning to do.
Then he heard a doorbell, there was someone outside the door who had rung, and Ravyn had the fear that it might be his mother.
"Everyone but not her...everyone but not her...," Ravyn prayed.
As if seized by a fright Joshua stopped everything he was doing; no more noise could be heard. 
Then, as quickly as the otter had stopped moving, he catapulted with great strides in the direction of the entrance, and Ravyn, though he could not know it, read happiness in that hasty step.
The bell rang again, impatient and vigorous.
"Coming guys, coming!"
The otter rejoiced and threw open the door without a second thought. It was the biggest mistake of his pedophile career, and when he had time to reason about it, he almost choked himself.
"Mr. Joshua Pimblett, good evening." 
The voice came out and Ravyn recognized it only because the window overlooking the garden was open.
"Sheriff Chip, good evening."
Joshua swallowed and turned purple and then red and then purple again.
"Pardon the time. You opened my timetable without even asking who I was, were you expecting someone?"
Blows and answers ensued for another few minutes but in the end Joshua came out proudly victorious, even considering the unforgivable risk he had fallen into at first.
He closed the door behind the sheriff and smeared his hand over his face.
"Rookie mistake!" he admonished himself sternly.
He went back downstairs and stayed there for at least another hour.
Ravyn, who had pleaded for the sheriff not to find out anything, was almost more relieved than Joshua, even though he had now lost any feeling in his limbs. 
Even if he had freed himself, he would not have been able to walk for a while.
Some time passed, and the lights at Joshua's house and Ravyn's house were the only ones left on.
Sheriff Chip, inside his police car had passed through the neighborhood at least five times in that time frame.
The doorbell rang again and this time Joshua did things his usual way. He reached the door making the slightest noise, rested his eye on the peephole and looked out.
His face contracted into his glittering maniacal grin. His outstretched hands traveled over the locks, unlocking them in a matter of seconds, then descended on the gold knob, which turned without resistance. 
The door swung open and a wave of death invaded the house like a Category 5 thunderstorm. 
The smell climbed the stairs faster than anyone else would have done and without knocking entered what must have been Joshua's bedroom but in which poor Ravyn momentarily resided, gagged and bound like a sausage.
The stench reached him in the blink of an eye, and the little dragon immediately recognized it.
"Gerard and Buster." he said but the words came out garbled and unintelligible.
In spite of everything, his heart rejoiced because once again it was not his mother who rang.






Act 11
The two pleasure emissaries made their entrance as elite guests. 
Joshua treated them with respect and reverence as he would have done only with great friends and valiant companions.
The two figures of the night sauntered into the otter's house affably and moved with ease. Even to a blind man it would have been clear and obvious that this was not the first time for the two.
"You got the little bastard..."
Said a voice, and it was mellifluous, and deep. Mature and manly.
"Oh yes, I got him all right...it was wonderful to be able to...," Joshua hesitated and stammered in excitement.
His friend, even taller and more massive than him, soothed him with a confident pat on the shoulder.
Joshua, reawakened, resumed speaking.
"I touched him, you see Gerard, I touched him!"
He was thrilled, Ravyn heard him jump like an exalted man.
"You did great Joshua, in this year you played your role perfectly...you gave us decisive information." The voice broke into its honeyed flow.
"What do you think Buster, you look weird..." he asked a moment later.
Buster, the feral wolf, Gerard's faithful companion and unquestionable member of the duo, growled in a high-pitched tone.
"He's listening to us, can you hear him?" translated Gerard.
"He's sweating right now, and he recognized us..."
"Impressive!" burst out Joshua as a third party, "Very impressive...I tied Ravyn upstairs..."
"And don't worry...," he added quickly before Gerard became alert, "I tied him up so tightly that he couldn't get free even with all the strength in the world."
Gerard nodded in satisfaction at the answer.
"Go get him, we'll wait for you downstairs."
"I'll be right down."
Joshua, hunched and impatient, moved upstairs with a plush step. Ravyn found him in front of him, and in the gloom he noticed that he was much scarier than usual. 
And his smile, in that darkened room, was scary, really quite scary.
"Come with me little one, the guests are here and it is impolite to keep them waiting!"
Her big hands descended on Ravyn, and she belted him in a gentle grip.
Snickering and quivering with delight, Joshua went back downstairs.
Ravyn, who was shaking like a leaf and was one step away from peeing himself, consoled himself as he had the opportunity to observe parts of Joshua's house that he would never have seen otherwise. He considered it a meager consolation.
Nimbly he descended the stairs and past the living room and kitchen, Joshua prepared to open a seemingly anonymous door. From behind, Ravyn heard muffled sounds that were clear only after the door opened. 
More stairs, they were of creaking wood under the otter and Ravyn's feet, and then down, and the basement door closing behind the two of them. 
Then classical music, soothing and quiet. Soft light that didn't bother the eyes.
A high ceiling and a very wide space. Heavy air, Ravyn took two breaths and it seemed to him that he had breathed for nothing.
"Here we are!"
Joshua dumped Ravyn on an air mattress, the fall was soft and the child ended up legs up in the air.
"Ravyn, it fills my heart with joy to see you again..."
Ravyn turned his gaze and saw with his deep blue eyes the origin of that voice.
When he saw him again at such a close distance, his heart nearly jumped out of his throat.
Gerard, the superbly endowed horse, doctor and professional pedophile, the mind and arm behind the attack on Ravyn a year earlier, stood in his two-meter height and marble physique.
Next to him, presenting himself with a menacing snarl, was Buster the wolf, and Ravyn saw him distinctly for the first time. 
The child felt a twinge in his ass, as if memories of past experiences had brought back wounds that nothing otherwise would have done.
The wolf's scarlet eyes, paired with the horse's mischievous yellow ones, fixed themselves on the child without mentioning to stop.
"I must admit that seeing you tied up like a sausage gets me pretty horny," Gerard admitted and moved in Ravyn's direction.
Meanwhile in the background the opera music proceeded undisturbed.
Joshua, as a true nymphomaniac had sensed that his long-awaited show was about to begin, so he hurried to get everything he needed.
The chair, comfortable with reinforced pads and drink rest, into which he slipped a cola. 
Then a small tube of the best brand of lubricant he had bought from a connoisseur friend.
Ravyn looked around, and that place, as patched up as it had been, showed clear signs of decay. 
But his attention focused on the camera placed on a tripod pointing toward him.
His assailants had intended to film him, and instead of frightening him, it gave him a very pleasant feeling of affection.
"You know, Ravyn, I've seen few children become so beautiful from one year to the next, and you are one of them."
It was Gerard who in a couple of steps had reached him. He knelt in front of him.
"Just like the old days, my darling," he told him and began to pet him. His gentle and delicate manner had not changed at all. But Ravyn knew well that this was nothing but a prelude to the pain and agony to which he would be submitted. 
But he was even okay with it this time. Gerard had only seen him for five minutes and already had complimented him more than his mother had in a year.
Joshua, who was admiring the scene with a thick watery feeling in his throat, began to slowly strip himself naked trying to look as sexy as possible in the child's eyes.
Buster, like a true predator, walked in circles around the little dragon, spotting the weak points on which he would pounce. 
"Joshua, get ready to turn on the camera...," Gerard ordered, pointing at the camera with a finger, then returned his full attention to the child, "Oh Ravyn dear, as you see this time we've made a few minor adjustments...," Gerard spoke and his breath flew straight into Ravyn's nostrils not a palm's distance away, "We're in this basement, where we can make as much noise as we deem necessary, and I can assure you it will be a lot. ..," he winked at him defiantly, "Then we have a camera with which we will record everything," Ravyn saw it again as he leaned over Gerard's shoulder, " I mean Ravyn, you must have guessed that this time there will be nothing and no one to stop us."
Gerard concluded and let out a breath of genuine satisfaction.
Joshua looked at his tiny darling Ravyn while holding his cock tightly in his hand, Ravyn crossed his gaze. He peered into his face and saw that he was terribly horny, then his eyes lowered inexorably to the phallus, which fortunately turned out not to be all that impressive.
The otter held his prick with barely a hand, all the air of danger that hovered around his figure seemed to dissolve. This happened particularly when it was Gerard's turn to strip naked.
The horse wore fantastic vintage jeans that fitted snugly over his crotch and rounded quads, while dropping wide over his ankles. Holding the jeans firmly on Gerard's narrow waist was a black belt fitted with a sparkling pure silver buckle.
Slipped into his pants, snug across his pecs and shoulders, Gerard wore a red plaid shirt, a proper match to enhance his imposing but nevertheless slender stature.


The horse's clothes slipped off his dark coat with great ease, and all at once his gigantic phallus leaped out.
The child marveled at the sight as if it were the first time. He remembered well how big his assailant's cock was, but a year spent away from him had led him to forget certain details.
The swollen, throbbing glans glistened under the faint light emanating from the cellar lamp, the fleshy shaft hardened to concrete, and the vees running through it hardened and doubled in size to allow the proper flow of blood.
The horse's heart began to beat faster and faster as the demand for blood increased tremendously.
Gerard, proud of his waving cock, turned a maniacal grin on Ravyn. "What's the matter with you, did you remember it being smaller?"
He moved closer to him until Ravyn could smell the pleasant musky essence rising from his glans. 
"Gosh Ravyn, the more I look at you, the more I realize how hard you make me come," he said and Ravyn blushed at the compliment.
"I want to take off this annoying gag...I want to hear your voice."
Gerard stretched his arm and removed the bib, leaving the baby's tender little mouth exposed. His lips had gone dry and were anxiously waiting for someone to moisten them.
Joshua stood up and with a snap pressed on the Rec button and then quickly repositioned himself without wasting a second.
"Boss, I'm done!" he announced.
Gerard turned and nodded to him. A moment later he was a palm away from Ravyn's little face again.
He snaked his tongue probing the damp, stale air of that cramped place at once near and far from anyone who could have saved poor Ravyn.
He rested it on the baby's little nose, in the nostrils and near the eyes. He sprinkled those areas with saliva, giving them a brilliance and shine without past equal.
He felt its saline taste on his protruding cheekbones, just where the tears were settling. 
He drew his lips close to his left ear, slowly. "You are really yummy Ravyn, I would love to eat you..." he whispered and kissed him, gently resting his dark, fleshy lips on the soft, fluffy lobe.
She gave him a warm, moist lick and Ravyn felt an intense trembling in his legs. Spasms of pleasure went up from the feet onto his knees and then onto his loins. 
Gerard encircled his face with his hands and squeezed him, then moved slowly toward him, maintaining shuddering eye contact. Ravyn saw him approaching and did nothing to stop him.
The horse's tongue brushed against the child's lips, wetting them properly. Their lips brushed and Ravyn gasped, a moment later letting Gerard kiss him. 
Meanwhile Joshua watched them minutely. "Oh oh...yes..." he moaned aloud, his right hand intent on bobbing up and down on his cock while with the other he busied himself pouring a copious drip of lubricant onto his glans.
Buster the bloodhound continued to spin in circles, his cock, too, had popped out, and just as it had a year earlier, it sloshed on the floor producing a sinister hiss.
Gerard tightened Ravyn into a passionate kiss by holding him tightly to himself and sticking his tongue all the way down the child's throat. 
Ravyn very soon felt the lack of oxygen interfere with his senses. His eyesight began to suffer the first damage and images became increasingly blurred, while sounds gradually became more muffled and unintelligible.
He heard classical music distort and the notes emanating from the record player suddenly changed to horrible, anguished noises of suffering that sounded more and more like screams and calls for help.
Gerard pulled his tongue out suddenly and produced a pop that interrupted the unconscious state into which Ravyn would have collapsed at any moment. 
He let the child catch his breath for a few seconds, and Ravyn did not hesitate. 
He took long, deep breaths with his little mouth completely wide open.
Gerard, from one moment to the next, applauded. "Excellent...," he told him, "Amazing how you still remained so delicious and horny..."
He stopped clapping, Joshua behind him smiled and jerked with a glee he had never experienced. 
"I've been looking forward to this," he said in a raspy voice.
Gerard prepared to wrap his arms around Ravyn's neck, and when he squeezed it tightly he realized how pleasurable was the sensation emanating from probing such a fragile and tender neck. 
He resisted the temptation to break it off and pulled him to himself. Randomly waving his cock he ended up striking him full in the face, threatening to make him blind in one eye. The thick, dark brown glans hit him on the cheekbone an inch from the eyeball, then slid into step and rested with boundless grace on his lips. 
He rubbed his cock on those soft natural mats for a few seconds before working his way into them. He moved his right hand and grabbed Ravyn by the head, while with the other he opened his pucker. Once properly positioned, he lowered his gargantuan phallus down his throat.
The cock slid over the moistened palate, spread the mandible going very close to break it and penetrated the throat pressing the uvula against the inner wall of the throat.
Ravyn again endured the horrible choking sensation. The total absence of oxygen and the awful intrusion of that massive being inside him.
"I don't think it can fit Gerard, no one has a dick as big as yours," Joshua said and glanced at the camera to make sure everything was going properly.
The recording was running smoothly, so he continued sitting comfortably masturbating at lightning speed. When he was not talking in his ambiguous and calculating manner, only slimy sounds propagated from him due to the excessive use of lubricant.
Gerard held the little one tightly and let out an upward groan. "Oh God Ravyn, how fucking tight is your throat..." he said, gritted his teeth and let the baby's oral walls grip his penis only as they knew how.
The horse whistled softly, the pleasure not allowing him to do so more forcefully.
Buster, who was gifted with great acumen, heard the signal and performed like a good trained puppy.
Like an experienced pedophile, he demonstrated what he was made of to Joshua who interrupted his vision of Gerard to focus on the newcomer.
Buster positioned himself with a jump behind Ravyn, where he could admire his inviting bottom, the same one he had taken advantage of a year earlier. 
He spread a quintal of saliva over it that his jaws were producing in excess and with which he had soiled almost the entire floor.
His teeth gleamed for a moment before sticking into Ravyn's tender flesh. Then with a backward jerk he ripped off his underpants and panties.
The excruciating pain forced Ravyn into gasps of pain and instinctive spasms with which he tried futilely to free himself.
Joshua had reacted to the bite with an orgasm that kept him pinned to the chair for ten seconds in which all his muscles became slaves to rapid and disturbing convulsions. 
He cum for the first time that day, and his cum squirted out in many small pieces that flew into the air before falling back like creamy, sticky snow on baby Ravyn.
The cum impaled his hair and hit one eye forcing the eyelid to close to prevent the bulb from getting injured. 
Buster, after leveling the view, prepared to make use of Ravyn's little ass as best as he could. 
He raised his front paws, leaned forward and sank them on the baby's hips, staring him down.
"Not so fast...ah..." moaned Gerard and motioned for him to stop.
His heated loins gave off a surprising heat and drops of sweat dripped downward from the tips of his testicles.
Gerard trembled and let out a raw, deep moan that faded into the silence of the basement without reaching the upper floors. 
The horse's big cock suddenly swelled, occupying Ravyn's entire mouth and forcing him into super-exciting choking noises.
The horse poured a copious cascade of hot cum into the small boy's throat, in vastly greater quantities than Joshua had produced a moment earlier. 
The saline semen flooded the spike's mouth, sprinkling over his soft, fluffy walls, settling under his palate and whitening his teeth. 
Gerard, who was all fire, enjoyed his orgasm to the last second, Buster watching him admiringly as he thoroughly stuffed his prey.
The horse recoiled back and without giving Ravyn time to enjoy a moment of freedom he passed his hands under his armpits and lifted him upward by weight. 
He knelt down and then extended himself on the mat holding Ravyn up like a bag of potatoes. Joshua, who had continued to masturbate relentlessly, was mesmerized by Ravyn's little face, from which he saw so many whitish rivulets slide out and traipse through the air with a magical grace of which he had only been able to dream until that moment.
Gerard positioned himself properly and laid the baby on top of him. He kissed him again but this time his tongue could taste the delicious mix of his semen combined with the baby's saliva. In the meantime he took advantage of his hands and grabbed Erran's little buttocks, then spread them apart. 
Buster's jaw nearly dropped. He growled and mooed enthusiastically.
Gerard heard him emit his classic cries of pleasure and was more than happy about it.
Needing no refractory periods, his cock was turgid again in a matter of seconds. It rose and hovered upward and looked like a fleshy shaft not yet satisfied with his handwork.
With his hand clasped over the glans and frenulum, he moved his cock so as to tickle the poor baby's anus.
Meanwhile kissing him, and kissing him, in a rollercoaster of emotions and sensations.
He brushed the areola all around his anus, at the precise spot where there were folds of skin. 
Then he gave a great hip thrust and the glans penetrated inside without asking permission. Thanks to the semen left on the tip, the monstrous phallus made its way inside that too-narrow and too-thin nook.
It had been a year, but Ravyn was supremely sure that not even in a lifetime his anus would widen enough to contain that throbbing serpent.
Gerard whinnied and horny as a beast began to go up and down with his penis breaking Ravyn's rectum in two parts. 
The baby was sweating and crying, his whole body stiffened, his eyes had become glazed and his pupils swollen with a blackness that appeared bottomless.
Not to be detached from his favorite baby, Gerard raised his thumb in Buster's direction, this one advanced undeterred.
The dick stopped touching the floor and stood forward, the swollen balls bubbling with hot semen ready to be dispensed. 
He clung to the child in an almost brotherly embrace, then sank his cock into his rectum with unprecedented violence.
Ravyn closed his eyes and trembled from toe to head, but the pain did not pass at all.
Small streams of burgundy blood gushed from his rectum, soiling the horse's pubis and the shaft of Buster's cock.
The wolf snarled ravenously, his hot breath hitting Ravyn's ears from behind making him a direct participant in his coupling.
The two super-dicks broke through the baby's anus together causing tears, pain and absolutely sensational prostate stimulation.
Buster used his glans to touch and push the area of the perineum, responsible for the wave of pleasure that invaded the little dragon boy's mind. Waves of memories came back to him, Gerard and Buster seemed to be there to make sure he don't forget them.
The duo fucked the little guy's anus at great speed, imprinting their phalluses into his tiny rectum full of wounds and semen.
The wolf howled in happiness and pounded from above with strong, pressing movements. He emptied his balls inside Ravyn's anus facilitating the penetration of his master Gerard, who in the meantime had tightened the baby in a hug.
The wolf pulled out his cock and the baby let out a fart that massaged the eardrums of those present. His anus had been completely torn apart and enlarged.
Gerard took advantage of this and sank his penis even deeper now that he had some excellent creamy, natural lubricant. 
With pelvic strokes he tried his hardest to give Ravyn the best anal fuck of his existence.
Buster backed away a couple of steps, proud that he had mastered the instincts that compelled him to clench inside his prey and that on many occasions had caused him to risk detection.
He placed himself to the side and raised his leg, his urethra pointing right in Ravyn's direction.
He emitted a moan of pleasure and relaxed. His bladder began to empty and release a torrent of urine on Gerard and Ravyn, both horny and dripping with sweat.
The jet of yellowish piss seeped over their bodies, and the horse grabbed Ravyn's head and turned it in Buster's direction. The wolf shifted slightly so that the golden stream went straight into the little one's mouth.
Ravyn swallowed the pee as if it were an aphrodisiac beverage, and let its pungent, salty undertones stimulate his palate, which had already had the pleasure of tasting some excellent stallion semen a short time before.
"Good boy Buster, keep it up, make him swallow it all!" urged Gerard as he drilled Ravyn's little ass.
Joshua, who was seeing two masters at work, could only thank them with another orgasm of pure sexual pleasure.
This time he cummed on the floor, on the camera stand, and even on his own hands.
The music proceeded invulnerable and fearlessly to what was happening in the room.
Gerard became agitated at the sight of the jet of piss that with a perfect parabola ended up inside Ravyn's mouth, and from his cock gushed out the second dose of semen of that day. His semen joined Buster's in a harmonic symphony of taste and texture, giving Ravyn's dark anus a whitish color and a decidedly more viscous, sticky roof feel. A delicacy for anyone who had a chance to taste some, even if only with a quick lick. Hot, steaming urine, combined with some excellent sperm, all well mixed inside the mouth of a beautiful, vulnerable boy. Who on earth could have refused such an offer?
Once he had properly emptied his balls, Gerard prepared to empty his large bladder, which, elastic as it was, would not hold out much longer. 
He got rid of the excess piss by properly stuffing Ravyn's anus, which found itself all at once flooded with a new cascade of intense yellow fluids that trickled down to his intestines with the grace of a stream in the Garden of Eden.
Ravyn's mouth was filled in a few moments in which the graceful sound of piss splashed from Buster filled her to the edge of her lips.
Drops fell on Gerard's face, and the latter did not hesitate to lick them off with relish.
The little dragon lowered his gaze and again met the wicked yellow eyes of the horse, and lost in them their cunning and ingenuity.
The two muggles had been wary and cautious for a year, but now they could pour out their pent-up excitement without limiting themselves.
"Ravyn, if you were not so handsome, we would never have done anything to you...you must understand us...you must understand our needs..."
It was Joshua who spoke, and he did so in a thin, tired voice. He had been masturbating for who knows how long without a moment's rest, and proof of this was the region of the floor in front of him, where with immense brilliance a pound of cream-colored liquid semen stagnated.
The horse's piss dripped out of Ravyn's rectum in thin golden rivulets mixed with semen also dripping and slimy.
The child transfixed on all the piss he could drink until his tiny stomach was full to bursting and his throat on the verge of melting from the inside. 
"Oh yes...drink it all, drink all that lovely piss!" urged Joshua from his chair. The otter had finished the small bottle of lubricant; he was almost there.
Gerard tipped Ravyn to the side and took him from behind in a mighty embrace. They positioned themselves in a spooning position, with horse behind and little Ravyn in front. 
The stud's cock remained inside the baby's rectum the whole time. There he felt tight and dark, with warm walls holding him with sweet love.
Buster took a leap and passed the two with a discreet athletic gesture.
He positioned himself right in front of Ravyn, waved his grayish tail in the air before sinking his ass straight into his face.
He placed his dirty, smelly anus on his lips and pushed down to get the baby to open them properly. 
"Yes Buster, good idea!" said Gerard and laughed heartily.
Ravyn heard her tremendous laughter in the back of his head. Meanwhile, the pain in his ass was increasing more and more with each thrust of the horse. She had the feeling that at any moment it would really break into two distinct pieces.
He turned away for a moment from the pain and the vomiting taste of Buster's anus to focus on his mother. That bitch, it had been her fault again. She had abandoned him in the hospital a year earlier, with no care for his health.
She had insulted him throughout his convalescence, and he had been forced to run away. 
She was not home, as always, and did nothing to stop him. It was all her fault. Her husband had left him.
Ravyn recognized the wolf's maneuvers and sensed what was coming for him shortly, so he concentrated all the strength he had to talk for what might have been the last time.
"Dad..." he whispered in a faint tone of voice.
Buster pushed down and prevented him from continuing.
Gerard heard him and marveled at how much Ravyn was able to stand his ground and still find the energy to amaze him.
"I'm sorry Ravyn, but all you are allowed to do is yell, nothing else," he said in his ear and began laughing heartily again.
The wolf stiffened his leg muscles, and enjoyed the tickle of the dragonet's thin lips on his anus.
The pertus opened wide as if in a hangar, a snake composed of several compact pieces of shit stuck together slowly peeked out in a graceful, sinuous movement. The shit gave off its bitter, pungent odor, prickling the nostrils of those present and giving the air that necessary pinch that could quantify the grandeur of that place. 
Everyone, no one excluded, filled their nostrils with that delicious and inviting smell, but only Ravyn had the honor of juxtaposing smell with taste, sampling that thick, dense, gift that Buster had so warmly crapped into his mouth.
The wolf emitted thin, sharp gasps of enjoyment; the turd in his rectum had stimulated his prostate and consequently invited him to slow down.
Shit went downstairs like a princess who, descending the stairs to reach her prince, would calmly place her 
 tiny foot on each step, letting her beloved's eyes settle on her slender, curvaceous figure. In the exact same fashion, Buster's shit was proceeding down Ravyn's throat leaving time to be admired in all its softness and grandiosity. 
The child opened his mouth wide and surrendered to the wave of flavors and aftertastes that a moment later invaded every corner of his palate. Bitter, spicy, creamy, salty...too many nuances all at once that Ravyn there and then couldn't discern. 
He swallowed large chunks of feces, chewing as much as he could before swallowing.
The fecal pile clogged his esophagus and nearly caused him to choke. 
Ravyn's small face appeared red with excitement, his eyes moist and covered in semen, his cheekbones drenched in piss, and finally his mouth stuffed with a large piece of shit as brown as Gerard's fur.
The wolf lifted his ass and shook it to drop the last remaining scraps of feces inside. Then he howled and turned suddenly. Gerard instantly sensed his companion's intentions and considered them a worthy demonstration of his intelligence.
It was Buster's turn to thrust his phallus into Ravyn's mouth. He did so without wasting any time sank the glans inside his lips and with firm thrusts helped the shit go down his throat. 
Ravyn almost disappeared in the midst of the two behemoths who, having stuffed him with feces, piss and buggered him to death, were about to torture him and enjoy his pain immensely.
Joshua was enjoying the scene so much that he ignored the notification on the camera screen. If he had bothered to read he would have known that the memory was about to run out. 
The otter had foreseen this detail as well and consequently bought several batteries that he would use just in case. But he was too horny and enraptured by what he was seeing that he did not even make an effort to move a muscle.




First Ending: 
Is this freedom?


The wolf made Ravyn swallow a kilogram of warm, freshly baked shit. Gerard took care of widening his anus until it was no longer constricted, and in the meantime he enjoyed the very pleasant sensation of having his penis immersed in internal terms of piss and semen kept warm by the baby's internal temperature. Joshua was about to cum for the fourth time, no one would notice, and he believed it was definitely best that way. 
He had always been a furtive pedophile who liked to remain unseen rather than act like his two more active and resourceful companions.
He admired Gerard and Buster for this, for their voracity, their love of child molestation, which he approached as if it were a creed that was forbidden to disobey. 
He had stumbled into it by accident, but when the fourth orgasm reached him and the only thing that came out of his cock was a miserable transparent watery discharge, he understood how lucky he had been to be in the company of two professionals of the business.
The rape session went on indefinitely, as that basement seemed to transcend the laws of time. There was no sun and light, and so there was no moon and darkness either. Only gasps, moans, bellowing, pissing and so much more.
The camera soon stopped recording as it could not compete with the infinite autonomy of the wolf and of the horse.
The duo trounced little Ravyn in several different positions, slamming him to the wall, or on the floor, or on Joshua's work table. They stuffed him until he was a filled balloon. They showered him with compliments and insults, making Ravyn the most desired child of the city. 
He fainted at one point, feeling bloated, weighed down and in pain. Dozens of lacerations marked his anus like paintings hanging in an art gallery, kilograms of feces and liters of piss occupied his every digestive canal, oxygen barely passed allowing him to survive and only prolonging that agonizing experience. 
Pain and more pain, then laughter of pleasure and enjoyment before inflicting more pain. 
Ravyn's mind became alienated from the world around him when he stopped understanding what was happening around him. 
He would open his eyes and find the two assailants raping him, and Joshua not passing up an opportunity to jerk off each time. 
Then he would shut them and there would be total darkness, nothing at all before he would reopen them and it would all start again.
Ravyn could see his body grow, his limbs lengthen, his wings enlarge...but he could only see it when the duo was raping the shit out of him and stuffing him, because then he would close his eyes and there was nothing more he could notice.
One day, or one night, who knew, he opened his eyes again and the duo was no longer there to assault him, and he felt strange, much more than usual.
His stomach burned as it always did when he woke up, his muscles ached, and his wounds seemed to be tearing blood.
He noticed that he was lying on an unusual surface, different from what he had become used to. 
He tried to pull himself up, but the duo had commanded his every movement for who knows how long and so he could not. He was left with his cheek smeared on the tarmac.
"Hey, what are you doing out here?"
Ravyn heard a voice and began to tremble again. He was naked as a worm. 
A light framed him, then footsteps were heard.
"Oh my god..."
The voice became tragic and the footsteps quickened. 
Ravyn felt himself being touched and realized that Duo had returned. He did not open his eyes for fear of seeing his assailants in his face again for the umpteenth time.
"How are you? Can you hear me?" the voice asked, it was warm and mellifluous. Ravyn did not recognize it, but he quickly realized that it was neither Gerard's nor Buster's nor Joshua's.
This prompted him to look. It was a Great Dane with a wrinkled face and two Arcadia Valos blue eyes. 
"Oh my god...oh my god!" the voice exclaimed and almost let go of the grip with which it was holding Ravyn lifted off the ground.
"Those wings...those blue eyes...Ravyn..." the Great Dane said.
Ravyn noticed only at that moment that at his chest was a medal. He strained to read but had long since forgotten how to do so.
Then he heard a soft Beep.
"Dispatch, this is Officer Chip, I need an ambulance immediately in..."
The words were lost in the wind, Ravyn separated himself from everything around him for a few seconds.
"It's been five years...five very long years of doing nothing but looking for you Ravyn, and now I've found you...I've found you at last!"
Sheriff Chip smiled excitedly, but Ravyn found nothing funny in it.
He had willingly stayed with his assailants because they wanted him, loved him, paid him tons of compliments, and spent dozens of hours with him. 
He had found himself three fathers who simultaneously spent so much time in his company.
But then, when they had deemed him too old, they had thrown him out into the street like a sack of damp that was now rotten inside.
Ravyn cried over this, and he cried so hard that capillaries burst in his eyes.
Chip thought that the now teenage Ravyn in his arms was crying for joy at being found. 
They both lived through that moment without understanding or guessing how they felt about each other's feelings, and Ravyn never heard from his assailants or returned to that neighborhood.
He never came to know that his neighbor Joshua had moved without explanation to anyone in the neighborhood.






Second Ending: 
              Better dying than keeping on suffering


The years went by so quickly, so hurriedly, the seasons following one another in a seemingly endless alternation. A cycle with neither head nor tail in which Ravyn had ended up being the one and only victim. Every day, every night, the trio came down those damned wooden stairs, they took him, assaulted him, violated him in the most imaginative ways. 
They spent whole afternoons thinking of the perfect ways in which they could amuse themselves, and in the meantime they would leave the minute, petite dragonling without neither food nor water, forcing him into a perpetual, obsessive hunger. 
They enjoyed devouring juicy hamburgers, massive sandwiches and delicious steaks in front of his very eyes, only to let him lick the drops that fell on the floor. With their bellies full, they would rush to molest and stuff him thoroughly, pouring into him what remained of the previous meal.
Then, only then, they would leave him sobbing alone , sprawled out in the dark, with no one ever coming to save him.
Ravyn became a teenager, and with his body, his phallus also grew, but that was yet another reason to rape him, more and more fiercely. They amused themselves by making him drink his own piss, as yellow as the sun itself, and then eat his own shit. Hours upon hours of endless torture.
Ravyn passed his thirties, then his forties, but nothing changed. Gerard had taken his son with him and trained him thoroughly in what he firmly believed to be the most enjoyable job in the world. 
Gerard's son, a young stallion named Maurice, had inherited the immense phallus from his father and was quick to put it to use. 
Buster also had a son, who promptly joined the group.
Joshua grew older and gained weight, but this did not demoralize him or affect the voyeuristic ways that were now ingrained in him. He remained sitting in his seat feeling his barely visible cock under his huge, protruding belly. 
In four, with the two newest recruits, Ravyn was being fucked even more viciously.
He soon forgot about his old life; everything before that basement had vanished completely, leaving room for pain and tears. 
Ravyn passed the age of sixty, his body had lost every far-off memory of youth or beauty.
He wore long, gray hair and an unkempt beard. His body was studded with wounds and abrasions, he was dirty and smelled. Actually, the whole cellar stank. 
It had been weeks since Maurice had last come, and Ravyn, tired and decrepit, reasoned about the possibility that he would spend his last moments of life abandoned there, inside that fetid cellar.
The planks creaked and a shadow cast itself over the body of the poor old man, who laid sprawled and tied to the plank that had kept him company for fifty-one years. 
Ravyn looked up tiredly, Maurice was coming down the stairs waving his huge phallus in the wind. Behind him, as always, was his proud hound, Buster's son, the fearsome wolf named Nova. 
Maurice and Nova came down, spat at the old man with contempt. They looked at him with defiance, then pointed their dicks and urinated on him. Ravyn felt at home when he felt the warm piss enter his skin pores, accompanied by a pleasant, massaging heat.
The two emptied their bladders on the old man, then took turns ravaging him with the techniques taught by their beloved parents. 
Ravyn thought back to all the good times he had had with Gerard and Buster, so many years with them... and now it was all over. He felt that soon everything would disappear. All dark, and he would never open his eyes again.
Maurice fucked the old man so hard he broke through his anus, Nova filled his mouth with shit until he choked. 
Ravyn took his last breath, shed his last tears, still thinking back to the past, wallowing in pain. If he had been given a choice and could go back to that day when he had decided to pack his suitcase and run away, he would have done nothing to change how things would've ended. 
He wondered where Gerard and Buster might be. He loved them both. He closed his eyes, let out a gasp. His body trembled and shook on the pond of piss, then stopped suddenly.
Maurice and Nova, upstairs, had doused the house with gasoline. 
The horse lit a match, patted Nova on the head, and they stood for a few seconds, staring in front of them.
A tear fell from their eyes, then Maurice tossed the match.








[a]?