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[TW: Blood, Gore, Harassment, Non-Con, Underage, Torture]
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What started as a bright and sunny morning in District 13 turned rather gloomy all of a sudden.
Within just an hour, the clear skies turned dark and rain started pouring. It was accompanied by loud thunder and flashes of lightning.
In some corner of the district, hidden in some sketchy alley, a small hole could be found. It's in the wall of an abandoned building hidden behind piles of trash and minor illusions.
Just now, a dark-cloaked stranger turned into this alley and passed through the illusion, entering the hole in the wall smoothly.
As soon as the person wearing the dark cloak entered the secret hideout, their shoulders sagged, almost as if heaving a sigh of relief. They folded the hood of the cloak behind, revealing the head of a man with wet hair and pale facial features.
The man looked unwell. He was so pale that it almost seemed like he had no blood left in his body. He was thin, almost emaciated even. His eyes were hollow with large dark circles, his cheeks were sunken, and it seemed as if a strong breeze could easily knock him flat on his butt.
"Took you long enough. Did you get everything?" A dark and deep voice echoed from a body.
The sickly-looking man nodded and proceeded to take out a package from his inventory. The package was wrapped in thick black plastic, making it hard to tell what's actually inside. Furthermore, it had this strange aura to it that just made it creepier.
"Where's the rest?" the disembodied voice echoed once more.
"I don't know," the sickly-looking man replied. "I waited until others arrived at the agreed location, but I never saw them; they didn't message me or call. I waited there for quite some time before leaving since I thought they sent theirs here already."
"Hn. Whatever, there's still time at least."
"Uh, Big Bro, how about..."
"Tch, go ahead. You only get an hour."
"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Big Bro!"
The sickly-looking man seemed to have come alive at the permission. He bowed deeply towards where the voice was coming from and hurried to the nearby room to get his rewards.
Upon entering, a strong smell of blood wafted to the sickly looking man's nose. His eyes rolled at the back of his head, and he couldn't help but take a deep whiff of it, feeling euphoria flooding his veins as he did so.
His mouth watered and canines grew. A gleam of sanguine light flashed in his eyes as he opened them. Then, his attention landed on the sight within this surprisingly large room.
Bodies. At least hundreds of them were here. Some are large, others small. Some are alive and struggling to free themselves; others are most likely dead. The rattling of chains and bindings could be heard from time to time, followed by some whimpers and muffled cries.
Blood. It's everywhere too. Splattered on the wall, drained from discarded body parts, and flowing out of the wounds on some bodies, the smell permeated every square inch of the room, and no amount of scrubbing could easily clean it off.
And finally, drawings. Drawings of shapes, unknown letters, depictions, and rituals littered all faces of the room. Some were clear; others were covered by bodies or things. Some lines wriggled like worms; others moved as if they were alive. Some exuded a faint greenish color, while others were almost fading in and out of existence.
The scene in this room was filled with madness and cruelty. One that's chilling and utterly inhumane, yet the sickly-looking man took it all in with a creepy grin on his face, seemingly happy to see such a sight.
Grinning, the sickly-looking man began slowly walking deeper into the room. His face flashed with greed and want as his gaze roamed over the merchandise.
Deep down, he's torn. There are just too many choices in front of him, and he really wanted to claim everything here for himself. But he knew better than to do that because he would simply die before he could even think about escaping.
He could only choose one, and he only gets an hour to enjoy it and make himself comfortable. He had to pick carefully because once he made a choice, he couldn't change it halfway through. And if he wanted to pick another one, he had to complete another mission from them.
"No, I've got to hurry. I already know my pick; I can't fall for this trap and waste any more time." The sickly-looking man sounded anxious.
His hurried steps echoed across the room, reverberating on the ears of the chained and gagged naked bodies hanging from the ceiling.
A wave of terror engulfed their hearts. Some of those who were struggling to free themselves earlier suddenly went still as if they were playing dead, like that was going to fool this man.
The man, though, couldn't really care less. His eyes were on his prize, and it's on the fair-skinned, naked young lady hidden at the far left of the room.
He had to wade through several bodies to get to her. Some of the still conscious ones tried to hinder him or to allure him into picking them instead of the poor girl, but with their arms and legs bound to the chains connected to ceilings and their mouths gagged, there's only so much they could do.
When his and the girl's terrified eyes met, the man's knees almost buckled in delight. The sheer terror, unwillingness, and helplessness she's trying to scream out was quite positively orgasmic to him.
"Oh, my precious. Such a beautiful morsel. Let Papa touch you, yeah?"
His dry and disgusting tone sent shivers to the spines of those who were still conscious. The ones nearby struggled madly in their chains, trying to get his attention instead. Deep down, they prayed that their efforts would bear fruit because they didn't want that young lady to fall into the hands of this man.
Unfortunately, it didn't even seem like the man heard them at all. His full attention was glued to his prize. He reverently ran his bony hands on the stomach of the bound young lady; his dirty fingernails left a churning trail that made her stomach sink.
The young lady struggled fiercely from her bindings, but no matter what she did, the chains held up strong. The others were struggling even more strongly than she could, yet none of them managed to free themselves. If they couldn't do it, how could she?
"I like this unruly attitude of yours, young lady. It truly turns me on." The man laughed creepily next to her ears before taking a deep whiff of her scent by burying his face in the crook of her neck.
The young lady was terrified beyond belief. Tears poured down her eyes as she tried her best to get him to stop. Alas, the man's grip on her body was strong and bruising; all she's doing by struggling is making him more turned on.
This was hell for the young lady. She cried and sobbed on her gag as the man's face and hands roamed every square inch of her face. She felt extremely violated and dirty.
She never wanted to die as much as she does today because dying would've been way better than being forced to experience all this.
"Haaah!" The man released a breath as if he just surfaced from a deep dive. His expression was filled with euphoria and delight as he got his fill of her scent.
"I'd love to do so much more to you, darling. Alas, our time is limited. It's time for the main course. This will hurt a bit, but only in the beginning."
"I'd advise you not to struggle too much, as that would just be more torturous for you. Then again, I won't stop you from doing so; I'm into that, if you couldn't tell already. Hihihihihi!"
The sickly-looking man tucked her hair and exposed her fair neck. He held her firmly despite her cries, and with a deep breath, he sank his fangs into her neck.
Screams!
The young lady's sharp and pained screech echoed across the room. Her cries of pure terror and fear followed afterwards. She struggled madly in his hold, but like he said, that just made it more painful. She even bled even more heavily, which only served to excite the sickly looking man even more.
In the corner of the man's eyes, a red system message flashed for a brief second before disappearing like it was never there. The man ignored this as if he saw it coming.
Helpless and terrified, the young lady kept screaming, hoping that somebody would hear her pain and come for her rescue.
Alas, if this worked, then somebody would've found them long ago; she wasn't the first, nor the last, who screamed this loud.
But even then, the young lady continued struggling and screaming for help, even as weakness started blurring her consciousness from having her blood drained.
Her screams could indeed be heard out of the room, but they're definitely not loud enough to be heard outside of this hideout.
"Tch. It seems that that perverted vampire found a good blood bag."
The owner of the disembodied voice earlier snorted in contempt. He took the package that the vampire presented just now, lifting it easily and carrying it with him to somewhere deeper in the hideout.
All while remaining unaware that there was an extremely tiny device attached to it blinking with a red light.