Ciri sighed softly as she looked up at the sky. It was starting to get dark, and the twilight made it hard to see. The woods looked so different that they did when she got here, and Tony hadn’t made it back, yet. It shouldn’t have taken her more than twenty minutes to find a spot to pee. Her phone came out of her pocket, and she checked the time. Six PM. She could see her breath in the air. Her thumbs tapped out her PIN and she pulled up her contacts, dialing Tony, and letting the call go through.

	She put it to her ear, listening to the line ring, pacing around the fire, looking around, worried. Once, twice, thrice… The ringing went on, and on, until she got that voicemail recording. She shook her head and hung up. Maybe the signal was bad? She called again, and listened hard, pushing her phone into her pocket, her jacket muting it so she could, hopefully, hear Tony’s phone.

	Maybe? Over there? She started walking, stepping past a few trees, straining her ears. There. She walked further, watching her feet and keeping her thoughts trained on that ringtone, carefully stepping over roots and through bushes, pushing on. The sound cut out, and she pulled her phone back out, hanging up and dialing again. She kept walking, creeping toward the sound, as it grew louder, and louder. She could definitely hear it now.

	A slow walk became a jog, thrashing through the brush, closer, louder. She was starting to shiver. It was getting colder the farther she went, until she stopped, suddenly. She took a deep breath, and gulped. She smelled blood. A lot of it. It buzzed in her head. No. There’s no way.

	She dialed again and broke into a run, forcing her way through, all worries of tripping gone. Then she slipped. Dead leaves gave way under her shoes, and she went down onto her face, her glasses falling off before she landed. She snatched them up, and put them on her face, her hands smearing the lenses with something dark. The smell was stronger, fresh. She groaned, pushing herself up, and looking at her hands. There was blood everywhere. The leaves were soaked, and the ground beneath had become mud.
	
	The ringing had stopped, and she turned around and around, she heard something dripping. Hitting the leaves. She stopped. The trunk of that tree was drenched, red stains running down its bark. She looked up, shaking her head. No. No way.

	Her eyes widened, her mouth opening. She wanted to scream, shaking her head, panting. She couldn’t look away. Despite the failing light, she could see everything with far more clarity than anyone could ever want. Tony; her body stripped bare, remnants of her clothing hanging from her body, her face frozen in a mask of pain, her makeup streaming down her cheeks. Her heavy tits were bare, the jagged end of a broken tree-limb jutting out between them, her stomach had been torn open, her guts hanging out of her corpse, intestines dripping blood onto the ground.

	Ciri didn’t realize she had fallen, leaning back, barely holding herself up. She reached for her phone in a frenzy, pulling it out and holding it up. Her screen was shattered, and she couldn’t see a thing, not even enough to dial 911. She scrambled to her feet, and reached up, trying to get to Tony’s phone, something, anything. She couldn’t reach. She was too short. She started scanning the ground. A stick, a twig, anything. There! She dove for it, grasping it in both hands, sturdy and thick, she came up to her knees, and everything went white.

	Her head was on fire, and she couldn’t see much, her vision blurry. She wondered, for a moment, if that was from the concussion she definitely had, but when she reached up to adjust her glasses, they were gone. She groaned weakly, and brought her hands down, trying to push herself up, hoping for just a moment that it had all been a dream, but as she lifted herself up, her hands were swept out from under her, and her face hit the dirt. The ground was moving, or, rather, she was being dragged across it.

	She grabbed a root, hoping to stop herself and catch her bearings. Her hands slipped at first, but she got a grip, just enough of one for whatever was dragging her to yank her shoe off. Then she realized that she should be running. She scrambled on hands and knees back the way she had been dragged, managing to get her feet under her, managing to ignore the searing pain in her skull as she ambled forward.

	She woke up on her face again, this time she was still, no longer being dragged over dirt and foliage. She rolled onto her side, and pushed onto her elbow, and vomited, her head was spinning and her guts were tied in knots, and everything she had eaten came right up, spewing from her mouth in a rancid flood, making a foul-smelling puddle in front of her. She saw something move, and cried out, a proper scream, ear-piercing, and she raised her hands to cover her head. Her wrists were grabbed, and pried away from her. She let out a cry of pain as she was lifted by her wrists like a toy, that massive, rough hand nearly crushing her bones as she dangled.

	It felt good, somehow, by some perverse blessing, to cry. She began to sob, tears streaming down her face, her lips twisted into a snarl as she begged, the snot dripping from her nose sputtering and splattering her face. “No, no, no, please, let me go, stop it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

	She could see two amber dots glaring at her, lit by their own light, but nothing else of her attacker could be gleaned. Until it leaned in, pinning her hands to a tree, its face some twisted conjunction of animal and human, its nose flat, almost non-existent with little nostrils, its ears long and pointed, rimmed with fur, its teeth sharp and yellow and bloodied.

	The dark, curling horns were the last thing she deciphered on that terrifying creature’s face, starting just above its eyes, and ending just either side of its jaw. It opened its maw, and she smelled the blood on its breath, the stench too much, her sobbing and begging cut short as she vomited again, retching up the last of her stomach to run down her filthy jacket and pants, the beast snarling at her.
	It spoke, but she couldn’t understand. Either her brain was too bruised or it wasn’t speaking English, but either way, she could only shake her head. “No, please, I don’t know what you want, just let me go, I’ll leave, I’ll never come back, just put me down, please!”

	It snorted, bathing her face in a hot wash of breath that fogged the air as she just cried and blubbered weakly. She screamed as her jacket tore, and again as her pants were ripped down, exposing her limp cock, short on a good day, but shriveled in the cold, her little testes hiding inside her from the chill. Its rough hand cupped her nethers, and it spoke again as her nearly-flat breasts pimpled and her nipples stiffened from the by-now freezing air.

	“I don’t know, I-I can’t understand! PLease, somebody help! HELP! HELP ME! ANYBODY!!” She started to squeal, her cries shredding her throat, the beast shutting her up by ramming its filthy fingers into her mouth, down her throat, making her gag and retch again, though nothing came up, even as she kicked and spasmed, her eyes crossing. Wait. Her feet were free!

	She bit down as hard as she could and kicked, using the tree to throw herself forward, both feet striking the beast right in the gut. She braced for a fall, but all she got was a grunt, as that hand pried her jaw open, and the creature spit into it, the fat glob of saliva landing right in the back of her throat, the poor little human forced to swallow or choke.

	Something broke. Quietly, as it the last thread tethering her to reality just snapped, somewhere off in the distance, and she went limp. There was nothing she could do. And now, that she had tried everything she could, she realized it. She was going to see the same end as Tony. Stripped, gutted, and impaled on a tree. She just wished it was with her friend. How poetic it would be to share the same limb, jammed through their chests, locked forever in a lifeless embrace. A meal for the beasts.

	She looked at the beast’s face as it laughed, a wicked, dry cackle that sounded like wind-blown leaves being crushed underfoot. She should be humiliated, but she didn’t have the energy, even as its rough hand grabbed her thigh, wrapping around it almost fully, and lifting it, pinning her to the tree as it grabbed the other, holding her knees to her shoulders, her limp, shrunken cock and shriveled sac hanging in the cold, her tight pucker clenching as the frigid air brushed over it.

	Her arms hung at her sides, head head lolling back against the tree. A spark of life reentered her body as she felt something press against her ass, her eyes widening, her hands clenching, rising up to push at the creature’s chest, her own heaving as she began to pant, shaking her head, trashing against her soon-to-be rapist, her hands bouncing off of its skin like they were nothing, even as the pressure built against her asshole, her hips held too firmly for her to buck away. It was too strong, and too determined.

	She screamed, but it was silent, her entire body was on fire as the beast’s flared cock plunged into her ass, splitting her open, her pelvis creaking form the force as it began to thrust, jamming itself into her ass inch by inch. Ciri could feel hot, dark blood running down her asscheeks and dripping onto the ground, her hands clenched so tightly that she felt like her fingers would break, though that pain was nothing compared to the pain of her guts being torn open by that cock, ramming deeper and deeper, every thrust emptying her lungs.

	She started to cry again, her mouth wide open, frozen in a voiceless scream, only her wheezing and gasping sounding from her maw, fogging the air as her abdomen began to heave and bulge with those brutal, powerful thrusts, her cock oozing, the pressure to her prostate forcing the cum out of her body as she was raped and abused. Is this real? Was this really how she was going to die?

	She just wanted it to come quicker. She couldn’t see anymore, the pain was blinding, even the throbbing in her head was a blessing, distracting her for fractions of a second from the rips and pops within her torso. Was she even breathing anymore? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was that cock wasn’t even fully buried in her ass. It kept pushing deeper, deeper.

	Her stomach had ruptured, her kidneys were crushed, her bladder had popped. She didn’t know if the fluids streaming from her ass were all hers or not, but she knew her body wasn’t going to survive this. Nobody could ever survive this. Her vision faded from white to black, and her body began to feel hot, like she was sweating. She wished for death, begged for it with whatever was left of her brain as that cock began to batter her heart and lungs, her ribs straining, stretching, cracking, shattering.

	Something made her waist heave outward, then again, and again, then, suddenly, it was like all the pressure was gone. She took a deep, deep breath, finally able to fill her bruised and punctured lungs, her head dropping forward. Had the beast finished? Was it done with her?

	Her vision returned, first in sparks and flashes, then in blurry streaks, her mouth still open, drooling down her misshapen chest. When her vision finally returned, what she was was like a horror film. That cock, coated in blood and other filth, jutting from the burst remnants of her innards, her intestines draped over her hips, her body cavity filling with blood as it pumped back and forth, its flare throbbing.

	The last thing she felt was blessed heat. A warmth that bathed her face and chest, her poor, frozen fingers seeking it out. Why was it so cold? Couldn’t she die somewhere nice? She ran her fingers through the cum that coated her ruined body, her head dropping back to the bark, a weak, rattling sigh of relief leaving her lungs. At least it was over. Finally. She could be at peace. She hoped Tony was waiting.