Fief - Alan 4 (Patreon)

Fief

Alan 4

-VB-

It was something new, something I learned while planning to do some villainous things to the editor-in-chief of the Brockton Gazette.

The thought of hurting someone?

It made me hard.

It was weird. I got this feeling that I probably hadn’t been a sadist before. The feeling could be wrong.

So I began to plan with causing pain in specific people rather than the widespread masses. 

After all, people could be easily manipulated later.

-VB-

“I don’t have a normal yet,” I replied to the editor-in-chief’s question in his own home (after I phased through the walls during the night and rudely woke him and his family up).  “So I’m not sure what I will do right now.” 

Wearing a pair of nylon shorts and a XXX-large T-shirt that barely covered my navel, I sat in the living room in the single armchair while the editor-in-chief and his family sat on the sofa.

The woman and her children were on the verge of crying while the man himself looked between infuriated and deathly afraid. 

“I mean, I fought and killed a racist cape,” I said with a tone of incredulity. “Considering that your wife and children aren’t, you know, white, you would be appreciative of my act.” I narrowed my eyes. “But instead of something decent, I am titled a thief.”

“Look, if there’s a problem with the name-!” the EiC spoke quickly but a quick slam of my hand into the armchair shut him up as well as cause the children to burst out crying. 

“Of course, I have a problem with the name!” I growled out while leaning just a bit forward. They leaned back into the sofa in fear from my outburst, and I leaned back once I was satisfied with scaring them right then. “Names stick around,” I began. “Names don’t change easily in the minds of the people. You could even say that half of the reason for my attack on the Empire was because some stupid urban legend was about to give me a stupid name, and I wasn’t going to have it.” Then I glowered darkly with half-lidded eyes and disdainful drawl in my next words. “And you ruined it. Instead of the powerful image I intentionally wanted to craft - one I’ve already carved into the memories of the Empire and their racists fuck by taking their blades and bullets and coming out of it without a single mark on me - and one I painstakingly revealed the most dangerous of my powers for, you ruined it by allowing a name like ‘Red Thief’ to go through and be published. How the fuck do you think the rest of the world will view me now until I commit atrocities after atrocities until red becomes the only word they describe me with?”

“P-please, my family has nothing to do w-with my j-”

“Of course they have everything to do with your job. You have your job to feed them. To raise them.” I stood up, my head nearly touching the ceiling. “It’s only fair that I start my atrocities with the very people who would have benefitted from your work, hmm?”

“No-!” he stood up to jump in between me and his family.

“But.”

He stopped, freezing. 

“If one of your girls,” I drawled, looking to the four women sitting on the sofa. “Volunteer yourself, then I won’t start anything now.”

It was the wife’s turn to realize what was about to happen. Her arms wrapped around her three adult children, shaking her head. “No, no! Take me ins-”

“I said one of your spawn, not you,” I snapped, letting a beastly growl escape my throat as I partially transformed using Canine Morphology. “I’m not interested in you.” I looked back to the girls who had to be no more than twenty but definitely older than eighteen if the three separate high school graduation certificates hung in the corridor were evidence. 

All three of them had curly ginger hair like their father, but they got their beauty from their mother with their high cheek bone, round faces, curvaceous bodies, and sizable “assets.”

“So the first one to volunteer will come with me for whatever fate I determine while the rest of the family gets to live in peace. Until, of course, daddy dearest makes another stupid mistake like angering a very powerful person, hmm?” I stopped for a second before grinning. “Just so you understand exactly what will happen to the volunteer, I will be keeping them alive for safekeeping. If you anger me enough… that won’t be guaranteed.”

Shivering, crying, sniffling… 

I didn’t enjoy them, per say, but they certainly didn’t put me off. 

Then the middle woman stood up. With tear marks in her eyes, I noticed that she was the tallest of the three. “I’ll go,” she croaked out while trembling.

“Mary, no!” the father tried to put himself in between. 

I was having none of it. 

I lashed out and grabbed his throat in my hand.

Now, as a three yard or so tall man, I had big proportions. Each of my hands was big and long enough to wrap completely around someone’s throat on its own.

With my hand wrapped around his throat, I tossed him aside. He slammed into the wall next to the window on the other side of the room from the sofa with a loud thawk of flesh and bone striking brick wall, and then dropped to the ground, unmoving. I could see his chest rise up and down, so he wasn’t dead.

“Dad!” this ‘Mary’ screamed in fright, but my hands were on her, grabbing her by her throat too. I didn’t squeeze, but she froze up in fear. Slowly, she looked up at me, and her body began to tremble - her knees in particular - when she met my eyes and saw my malicious grin.

“So you have volunteered.”

I turned to the mother, who glared at me hatefully. She had some guts and spine in her.

“Remember. Piss me off, and Mary will be enjoying her stay in hell. Get your idiot husband to change my name to something worthwhile. Or else.”

Then I teleported us out of his house. 

-VB-

Luckily for me, his house was in range of my Offscreen Travel, so I came to my boarded up, barely lit, and barely furnished house. 

I dropped her onto the only mattress in the room. “Now, what to do with you?” I drawled as I crouched down. She shivered and scrambled away from me without turning away until her back hit the wall. Her head zipped left and right even as she cried, regretting her decision. This particular room was the basement. 

Oh yes, this was the basement of the house. One way in, one way out. Oh and the door locked from the outside, too. The doors were rather thick and soundproof. 

(Oddly, there was a bathroom down here as well. Why?)

“Don’t hurt me, please…!” she whimpered out. 

“That’s what is going to happen, unfortunately for you,” I cackled. “You see, when I killed that racist fuck, I learned that I actually liked harming people! It was a surprise for me!” I leaned forward, straining my neck forward. Mary pressed herself against the wall as much as she could while continuing to cry softly. “So I was excited to harm your dad, too! But I thought about it. If I killed your dad, then my name will stay the same.” 

I leaned back, and she sagged in relief.

“So I was going to torture your family until each and every single one of them broke.” 

She froze with wide eyes at my declaration. 

“But I knew that it wouldn’t stop anyone else from continuing to use my name. Threats can only do so much to so many people at the same time when the iron is still hot. So I thought of a better solution than torture! Ransom!” 

“A-A-And I v-volunteered,” she moaned out sadly. 

“Yes!” I nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “And I wasn’t wrong about saying what I was going to do to you. I do need to let some of this newfound sadism to use.”  

She began to shake her head in vain.

“So it’ll be torture for you. Somewhere no one can hear you. Somewhere no one can find you.”

“Please, no no no-!”

The begging was starting to get stale. I wanted some screams.

“But a mere torture would be a waste for someone like you. So you can choose!” 

“C-Choose…?” she choked out.

“Between sex and torture.”

Her pale face whitened even more thoroughly. She sobbed.

“My default choice is torture, by the way,” I reminded her. “I’m sure I can find a healing power to copy somewhere down the line, and I’ll just keep on doing it.”

“B-But you could just switch over whenever you want to!” she cried out.

“I suppose I can. You only have my word that whatever choice you make, I’ll keep to it.”

She bit her lips, looked around desperately for anything to help her, and found nothing.

“Just so you know, I don’t need equipment to torture you when I can cut you up with my claws,” I said while partially transforming my right arm into that of a werewolf, brandishing claws, and then changing back. “And I also wonder,” I said as I changed my head. “What human flesh tastes like as a wolf.” I changed back.

She stared up at me in horror. 

I grinned down at her. 

“Tic toc. You have ten seconds to choose.”

The desperation. The overwhelming stress. The indecision…!

Oh, they made me happy just watching them appear on her face. 

“... Five … four… three… two-”

“SEX!” she shrieked and then paled. She bit her lips, refusing to cry anymore, but tears streamed down.

“Oh? Are you sure?” I stretched this out. I wanted more of th-.

She nodded slowly in resignation. She looked down and began to sob, unable to control herself.

“Such a shame. I was looking forward to torture, too.” Honestly, I was. I don’t know what kind of person I was before, but I wondered if I enjoyed this kind of thing back then, too. “Oh well. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And then I teleported out.