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The weight of snow accumulating on the roof of the old barn began to do coax the wooden beams that lifted it to creak and groan. Like the earth underneath, it seen an unending number of atrocities committed by its owner, shackled it was, like the deer, with metal braces and enlisting the help of steel bolts to prevent it from collapsing under the weight exerted on the slowly decaying remnants of so many years ago. The scarred building erected some day in the late 19th century, with its wooden frames and rattling glass panes, the cheap tiles covering the cracks in the foundation, the light fixtures blaring the room with an influx of screeching neon, had seen the prime of its days long ago. Now it was nothing but a shoddy hut, forced to stop its natural clock and to shelter the debauchery and hubris conducted inside its rotting walls.
It was here that the Wolf committed his most heinous acts, the ill doings deemed too dirty, too unfit for the lavish halls of the castle of his, a distinction lost on many that heard the tale, yet all but natural to him. Acts that transcended the realms of imaginative prowess the lone minds of the peasants could fathom, be they bestowed with one sculpted by common decency. Once such being was the shivering, thrashing girl that cowered on all fours like her woodland counterparts, her wrists baring shackles of swaged metal, barring the four-fingered palm from retracting any further than an inch, give or take and reminded her thoroughly that she was to stay.
She was a pretty one, this doe, all but reaching the very end of her prime years, hers still was an ample and round bust which had begun to succumb to a sag, a nice layer of fatty cushion that drew tight around the short-furred butt - a small one, as it was as was natural for her kind.
But what had been a well-kempt coat and little pride for the girl was now a bristled, hastily combed mess, bits of it missing from being denied the much-desired rest, stale in its colour and in loss of its shine. Gone was the light of joy, pointed out by many, in the odd crimson eyes of hers and gone was the care for her nails, all replaced with stiff, split and chipped shadows of their former selves, for the Wolf had neglected any sort of care that surpassed all but the most basic of hygiene - if not out of an act of kindness but because filth was one among the few vices the lupine tormentor would abstain from.
“Ah, I see you have finally woken up. It was about time; I would hate for you to miss the pinnacle of your little existence! I have prepared a wonderful and fitting ending for you, it is quite biblical, if you’ll forgive me the term, I know you have never had good run-ins with the church. How long ago was it… 32 years? It was in the newspapers, yet another scandalous revelation that came to taint the face of Elisabethstift. I remember it well, the public outcry, the articles, the dubious ways in which the perpetrators managed to avoid prosecution. So much fluff and fire illuminating the stage, settlements being negotiated, crying women demonstrating on the streets… I remember it them trying to prevent the WDR from broadcasting so the East wouldn’t get wind of it. I suppose they were aware of the nocturnal eavesdroppers after all. And yet the ones that needed the most attention got none of it because all the opposing sides cared for was putting another dagger into the backs of one another, same old same old. So many of you that had to take being labeled as those ones, owning to their stint in the now tainted Elisabethstift. How did it feel, I can only imagine… any time you went out to buy candies at a store, being smiled at warmly and given a little extra “damit das arme Kinderl wieder lächeln kann.”
The Wolf stepped up frontside of the doe, his face bearing a content smile, just a hint of the white fangs peering from behind the thin lips, his brows furred in a mocking gaze, the deep crimson eyes staring intently at his prey in predatory fashion. The brown suit that would wrap his chest when seen on television had disappeared, exchanged in favor of a worn, white butchers’ apron, the black leather straps holstering over his shoulders and around his waist, extending a good foot of length across the matching covers for his thighs and upper legs, his hands resting atop them, safely wrapped in long, buttoned gloves that saw themselves holstered by belt straps and hooked into the shoulder buttons of the olive suit top. He reached down to caress her face, feeling her neck straighten and her muscles tense under his grasp, the muscle memory reminding the cervine of his palm that crossed her face a many time.
“Pardon my dive into your childhood but I believe it is important to remember things this close to death. Let me just turn on the water and we can continue… about a quarter way open, that should give us ample time.
Your career may not have started back at Elisabethstift but as I understand it, you escaped from the place in your tender years either because of the scandal or perhaps the ample use of a wooden spoon by the caretakers? No answer still? You always were a quiet one, I remember that as well. Your father would of course take you back in, he hardly had a choice after what happened. But things never went well there either. He told me you would sneak out at night so many times but I don’t think he was aware you were seeing boys; he would have been furious! His perfect little angel that was sadly born without a cock. Funny how even in those days, you’d still find yourself with men of such a mindset. Where fathering a girl was a sign of personal failure. Perhaps that is why he never bothered finding out what happened to you after you ran away. Ah, please do not cry! I will make sure to let him know your story after we are done here. Perhaps it will help him find absolution before he hangs himself from the chandelier in the office.”
The doe however would not listen to the words he spoke, her mind was scorched by the trauma of the recent past, having begun to erode under the strain that her whereabouts had put on the lass, and while used to harshness, she had been made to endure too much, she had grown to fantasize about this moment, this last encounter the Wolf, one final bout of terror that would end her forever pitiful existence. It was in these moments, she recalled the words spoken to her by the lupine client from so many years ago; You’ll never be more than a whore.
“I wonder how long it took you to find your path to Bahnhof Zoo Station after you escaped to confines of your father’s home. A week, a month? Did you camp out in the burrows or stay at older man’s home in exchange for a piece of your dignity? I presume it would have been easier to give up on it, piece by piece than all at once.
You see, Bahnhof Zoo always had a very special meaning to me. To a Wolf of my status, it was my means to peek into the lowliest of social structures, the dirty underbelly of West Berlin, where the music stopped and the sound of rain pouring in the gutters was the only thing accompanying the low grunts of horny beasts. The people that populated the plaza across Jens-street were there to stay. You would always run into familiar faces if you paid attention, it was very different from the brothels that cycled their Slavic wares every other two weeks to avoid being busted for missing immigration papers. Can you feel the pressure rising, old hind? We are about to get to the best part! Allow me to just make a couple notes, your stomach has begun to bulge… When we first met you told me you were sixteen and I still chuckle over such a blatant lie. Your hair was withered and I could see the hungry glare in your eyes when I showed you the money. Hazed and heated, eager to do whatever I desired because the amount I gave you was enough for the next dose and food, truly I must have seemed like a grand savior to you. That was until you saw my cock. I found the scars of our encounter lining your rectum before I shoved the hose in. It seems you never sought treatment for the injuries, which isn’t all that surprising but it makes for a pleasant memory – as will the rest of you. I see the water has made it past the stomach and into your gullet, which means our conversation is concluded in either case. I bid you farewell ~”
He remained silent for the remainder of the scene, yet the doe would see a dozen emotions in those large eyes, had the tears welling from her own not cast her vision in a blurred mess. The pain robbed her of vision more and more, the unearthly strain sent her body into a restrained fit, not able to pull her legs nor jerk her arms to grasp her bursting gut as her instincts commanded, forced to endure the pain in the most ungraceful manner as her cheek grew hot and red, warm blood matting her fur as the ruptures of her intestine began to grow more numerous, seeping from the cuts caused by the pressure and crude wire fencing tied around her midsection.
As the minutes passed and the damage grew irreparable, her eyes would turn upwards, escaping the vision of the room and casting her vision in premature darkness. Bleats and screams were muffled into a gurgle by the water passing through her stomach and pooling out her muzzle, a crescendo into a distorted cacophony of coughing and whimpering, fueled by the lining of her intestine being mangled by the fencing that cut and pressed its was into the guts forced to engorge with water.
It would be by the 10th strike of the clock that her consciousness began to slip into the dark embrace of death, three hours almost to the minute she had been made to endure her torment. And silently she went, the meshing preventing her guts from rupturing proper and thus the little hind would go just the same as she had lived; in miserly silence.