The old farmhouse stands silent. Not a sound of animals, nor the singing of milkmaids or the patter of little feet give the cold, foggy morning offer any semblance of natural life. Tybalt approaches the building, his pack over his shoulder with a grim determination upon his face. He had told his traveling companion from the church about the situation—of mutated creatures, monsters of unknown kind spreading throughout the forest, corrupting all life as their influence metastasized through the land. The cool air sends chills up his bare chest, but he is undeterred in his resolve and makes his way to the farmhouse itself. Once he makes his way up to the porch, his boots clank across the floorboards and he pauses, his gauntlet upon the door. The fog casts strange shadows in the morning light. Did he actually see strange beasts flitting about in the corner of his eye, or is that more of the isolated atmosphere shivering in the back of his mind? He ignores those phantoms for now and pushes forward in search of survivors. The door slams shut behind him with the same echoing emptiness as the field. The half-elf drops his traveler’s pack and calls out. “I’m a knight of love. If you are here, let me help you…” Still silence. His boots clop heavily on the floor as he goes deeper into the room, the old mildewy smell becomes much more pronounced, Curling his lips in disgust, he presses forward, opening the door leading to the odor Inside is an old bedroom, with the covers undone from the simple bed and everything knocked out of place, but sitting on the mattress, looming over another form, is a rail-thin, androgynous form with long hair on its head, but none over its body. “You’re no farmhand,” Tybalt says, closing the door behind him. “Get off of that poor soul.” The figure remains hunched over on its conquest, its hands running over the man’s body, hums rising from its throat. Tybalt takes a step to the side closer to it, and it snaps its gaze toward him. The creature, despite the rest of its build, sports a thick face with a full beard and a large, bulbous nose. When it smiles, sharp teeth poke between its lips. Tybalt stands firm at the sight of the creature as it lifts itself up off of the still form with a loud and sickening “schlorp.” Its bare feet hit the ground, and it stands staring at Tybalt with that dead grin. But as it looks to him, its face shifts before his very eyes, eventually taking the form of a scared young woman. It runs up to him, hands on his shoulders. He grabs onto its wrists and stares down at it. “Face Stealer. No doubt you have taken the identities of this entire family? The creature stares up at him, the woman’s eyes melting away until a deep crimson replaces them. When it opens its mouth to complain, a smaller face responds to him, a cat that hisses with disdain. He shoves the creature back, and it stumbles against the bedpost, licking its lips and cackling in its monstrous voice, before speaking up in the smooth voice more befitting a milkmaid. “They’re everywhere. They’re going to take us. They turned the cows into them. There’s nowhere left to hide!” Tybalt clenches his fists, taking a step closer to the creature. “You took advantage of this family’s fear?” His voice rises as he steps closer and closer to the creature. Its face shifts around to an older woman. “Please. I’ll do anything to save my family from those things. Just… Just name your offer!” Tybalt looks over to the bed, where the prone man’s form still lays. The body holds only a fleshy canvas where his face would be. “You manipulated them into having sex with you? For the price of safety? But you took their faces, their very souls, forbidding them rest to be part of your sick collection?” The creature stands fully up, its face shifting once more, no eyes or nose show any expressions, and its mouth is nothing more than a slit. “Something the matter, pretty boy?” it asks in a light-toned, yet gravelly voice. “They get to live forever now, plus they got to go with a good bang. There are so many inside me now,” it says, running its fingers over its face. “I want you inside me, too…! For the glory of my Queen!” Tybalt inhales deeply through his nose, unclenching his fists as he speaks up. “By my honor as a knight of love, I shall vanquish you for perverting it for your own vile purposes. You and your so-called queen will pay for your crimes, by the might of my holy sword!” With that, he deftly pulls at the strings of his loincloth, the ornate patterns flutter as it falls to the ground, exposing to the air and to his foe his manhood, semi erected at the prospect of justice. The face-stealer licks its lips. “You wanna fuck? Ha! Once you cum, you’re gonna be another face, a beautiful face, for me to wear!” “Once I smite you,” he says. “You will tell me all about your queen and where I will find her, and you will cease your terrible misdeeds. The creature licks its bony fingers one by one and shrugs. “Fine by me. If you’re such a freak you wanna fuck in the same room as an old man, then go ahead.” Tybalt rushes the creature, grasping onto its shoulder and pushing it up against the wall. The face-stealer’s own length begins to twitch under the forcefulness as his face shifts, letting out a soft whine of a maiden. “No,” Tybalt says, squeezing the creature’s cheeks, his eyes burning with a fiery passion. “Back to your own face. If you want mine, I want to look upon yours.” The victim’s visage disappears, leaving only the frowning monster underneath. “You… what?” Tybalt runs his hands up along the creature’s thighs, pulling its legs up around his body as he scoots closer, his manhood and the creature’s colliding It gasps, a shuddering voice coming out of its mouth before it smirks and wraps its long-spindly hands over Tybalt’s neck. It rocks its hips, with it and the paladin’s swords clashing before it pushes forward, lipless mouth locking with the full lips of the knight. Tybalt grabs the face-stealer’s hair. Throughout the whole ordeal, he thinks not of the sensuality of the situation, but of the grim words of the creature. Of this dark queen, and all that her existence implies He breaks from the kiss, and the long black tongue of the face-stealer wriggles out, needfully groaning for him. Tybalt spins him around, the monster’s chest pressing against the wall, hands scratching at the wood as it pants, sticking its ass out. Tybalt grips those cheeks, spreading them apart, his length running down along the crack before finding its hole. “Here it comes,” Tybalt says. “I shall burn all the evil out of you with my mighty smiting blade.” “Go ahead and try, fuckboy…” the face-stealer taunts. “I’ll love to put that face of yours in my collection.” He licks around his mouth. “It will be so fun, jacking off in front of a mirror with that voice groaning and-” he stops, hissing as Tybalt’s head penetrates his hole. Tilting his head back, the face-stealer groans out, panting as the paladin pushes himself inside. “H… aaahh… it’s… so-so warm!” he gasps. Tybalt’s hand presses against the creature’s chest as he brings the creature’s back against his own. “That is the healing power, cleansing the taint in your heart. If there is no good inside you, then you will surely be smitten by me.” The face-stealer shoves his hips back, taking the paladin in deeper. “Haaa…aah… If I don’t fuckin’ die, I’ll be smitten with that cock, either way! Too bad it’ll be useless without your face!” Tybalt shoves the creature forward as his other hand reaches around, wrapping fingers around its length. The way his gauntlets are built, warm fabric and soft skin meet the phallus with a smooth stroke. “I would rather you didn’t” Tybalt says, slowly pulling out and pushing inside, his palm providing the same rhythm for the monster’s shaft. The face-stealer’s hair falls over its blank face. “T… the fuck? You getting all emotional? What are you, gay?” Tybalt lets go of the cock but reaches under his thighs and lifts him up. Stepping aside, the paladin finds the bony creature easy to carry over towards the farmer’s full-length mirror. “You can see, can’t you?” Tybalt asks. The face-stealer’s legs are spread apart, his cock bouncing with each bounce upon the paladin’s proud pole, his mouth open in pants of lusty exhaustion. The face-stealer reaches behind Tybalt, gripping onto his hair as he sees the seen before him, his tongue out, drooling. “F… fuck…” “You are a creature of this world. No matter how corrupted you may be on the outside. It is what is inside you that matters!” The creature squeezes the knight’s skull, shaking his head. “N… nuhgghh..! “You have a chance to undo what you’ve done to these people! Give up their faces and let the healing wash over you! Please…” His last word comes as a sigh, one with a defeated attitude, despite the fact he, too, can clearly see the pre oozing on the tip of the face-stealer’s cock, clearly showing that he would soon erupt with the paladin having no sign of slowing down. “I… I can’t!” he groans, moving his hands back to his own hair now. “But do you want to? For me?” Tybalt asks, stepping forward, the face-stealer’s cheek pressing against the mirror. “For the people you took?” The creature’s mouth hangs open, with each thrust, his face shifts. The farmer, his wife, their daughter, and many others. He pounds his fist against the glass, screaming out into the night as he releases, spurting out all over the reflection as the warmth of the paladin’s consecrated cum coats his colon. Tybalt stands back, releasing from him, oozing from the tip as he stands tall, looking down at his conquest. The face-stealer groans, laying on his stomach, his legs spread, a groan rising from his throat. “I…. I’m sorry…” he croaks. Immediately, Tybalt scoops him up, wrapping his arms around the creature and kissing him once more, this time upon the cheek. “I’m happy for you. You have seen the error of your ways. Now please… prepare for the healing.” The face-stealer tenses up, his head bent back and his mouth wide open as swirls of light shoot out from within his throat, flying off in all directions. His screams are terrible, but Tybalt holds him close during the whole distressing ordeal. Eventually, the light fades, and the face-stealer collapses into Tybalt’s arms, sweating, panting, and totally spent. “Now… let us stop this evil once and for all,” the Paladin says. “And tell me about this queen you spoke about. A groan from behind them make them look over their shoulders, only to see the farmer stumbling out of his bed. His eyes widen and he covers himself up, shouting. “What the hell are yew two doin’ in my room!?” Tybalt chuckles, standing and pulling the face-stealer up with him. “We were just leaving for a greater purpose, sir.”