Chapter 13: Helpless (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

I hope you enjoyed your Easter holidays, I sure did. Those few days off helped me clarify a few things, including that I may have gone a little overboard with the beast tone on the last two chapters, so you'll find this one a little more pleasant to read. The only beef I have is that I haven't settled on a name for the story. But in the end, that's not really what matters, is it?

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Anyway, today we're going back to the days when Tier 2 and Tier 3 were on the same level in terms of chapters. That thoughtless decision gave me quite a headache and I'm so terribly sorry for all the mess.

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I also realized that I sort of forgot to post links to the new chapters on Discord in my quest to rewrite the story - I don't know how helpful you found that, but I'm going back to it.

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Without further ado, enjoy!

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Chapter 13: Helpless - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/101690341

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Chapter 13: Helpless

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It hurt, so much hurt: my paws, my tail, my body, but mostly deep down in my heart. My pack, those who suffered here beside me, the only ones who understood, turned on me. They kicked, they punched, they clawed, they bit, doing their best to kill me. 

Heartbreaking - yet understandable. 

Not their fault, not their will. Unlike me, my pack not strong enough to defy. Not when deranged human's orders enforced through collars on their necks. Much to his fury, however, horror, and my puny relief, they too weak to satisfy his loathsome command.

"W-what are you staring at, y-you . . . you fucking beast?" stammered the despicable rat. Strong when thinking he safe, baring his teeth in smirk, but reeking of fright. I bared mine back, my growl carrying the pain of my pack, my pain and sorrow. He did not understood, though. No mercy in his eyes, just horror, panic, and unease of his twisted mind.

"Y-you useless shits. What a-are you doing . . . hurry up and kill her!"

It pained me, but if he wouldn't show my pack mercy, I had to. 

'W-wait. No, y-you can't.'

I must. 

'Please, just turn around and . . . go.'

Run? Leave my pack in the hands of deranged rat? No, I not cowardly, nor cruel. 

'But, I . . . I can't, I can't kill them.'

Better than that, they kill you? Let my pack suffer further at the mercy of him?

'N-no, that's not what I'm saying . . . just . . . '

Helpless, weak. Needless to say more.

'What? No, no, no, no . . . '

Sorrow-driven rage filled my chest, suffocating me, driving out whatever reason I had left, terrifying me the very marrow of my bones. Then, when almost impossible to breathe, I released it all out. My shout, bestially rough and primal, bounced off the walls of the cellar in endless echo. Under the pressure of my might, everyone listened to the weight of what I was about to do. Just the thought of it was horrifying, bone-chilling, making me cruel, even despicable. 

Not something a pack leader should need to do.

Necessary, though. 

Taken aback, however, behind the horror in the eyes of my stunted pack, I found a strange sense of relief, peace even. Their suffering neared the end, and they embraced it. 

Beast pride of my pack swelled in my chest, the last doubts hushed deep down - not the regrets, those remained. 

After all, letting them sniff my poison would have been the kindest way to go. But because of my rashness, rage, and fear on the floor above, mana in my body lay pitifully scarce. Me unable to release enough of gas to give them a painless death, let alone cloud sufficiently thick for me to wield and kill the deranged male with - to free them from his control.

So vexing, so irritating. Me helpless.

And thus, with my reason drowned, suppressed by primal savagery and no other choice but to flee in shame, the beast - well, me - pounced. 

A swing of a paw and my claws dug into a flesh, deep, to the bone. Before long, the screams, tearing at my ears, at my soul, fell silent, and the smell of blood filled the still-dank air of the cellar. A dozen and a half bodies of my pack lay by my paws, my fur soaked in their blood. The taste of it filled my mouth, bits and pieces of flesh wedged in between my teeth - grief gnawing at my sanity.

'W-what have you made me do? Shit, what have I done . . . ?'

What necessary and not enough. 

My gaze fell on the deranged male, shivering in the cell. His blood, his flesh, the only one I would not mind tasting. In fact, I craved it with every fiber of my being. The hatred for that human ran through my body, thick as blood racing in my veins, palpable, something I swear I could taste on my tongue. Bitter, dreadful, and all-consuming.

He wanted to make me a beast, and so the beast he would get.

With my every breath heavy and guttural, I snapped a snarl at him, licking the blood from my fangs.

'S-shit . . . I think I swallowed a piece of . . . '

Revulsion rippled through my body, drowned in rage and hatred for the human cowering in his own shit and piss. Eyes wide, he was struck with terror - as he should. 

Still not nearly enough.

One painful step after another, the iron digging into my wrist and ankles, my body struggling to heal the damage, I made my way to the cell. Stupid, foolish, dumb. Smarter to get out of here, right now, before the mind-twisted female returns. 

But what the male made me do not something my pride would allow me to let slide. I just could not tuck my tail between my legs and run. 

"G . . . g . . . go away!" the male barked. Rage and hatred for him, though, did not allow his order more than to brush against my mind. I pounced.

The bars of cell nothing but plain iron, no enchantment, bent under my mass. Me not as weak, as small, as light as before.

"S-stop . . . I order you to stop!"

I did not.

A lunge after another, ignoring the pain, I managed to bend the bars nearly enough to squeeze through. 

"F . . . f . . . fuck, STOP, y-you beast, that's an order . . . an ORDER . . . "

One more slam, and I was through, baring my fangs in feverish eagerness to pounce on the human. His frightened squeals a thrill to my ears. Hearing those quenched some of that rage eating away at my reason - but not nearly enough to spare him.

So, I pounced.

"₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪," he screamed.

The word was unfamiliar to me; not even my language Weave was able to translate it, yet I paused, terrified, every fiber of me screaming to run away. Too late, though. The word was spoken, and weighed heavily on those who heard it, making time seem almost to stand still.

Then, as my heart sluggishly took its beat, it dawned on me - the word spoken not a mere word, but a name.

The name of the bug that tore me out of my world, the bug I stared at once more. Out of nowhere it fluttered it's transparent bug wings between me and the male, unperturbed. Its disregard of me, of my rage, vexing but terrifyingly justified.

[₪₪₪: ₪₪₪₪ sigils]

Though the big rune did not say much, small as the creature was, no bigger than my paw, by no means weak. In fact, the bug very, very powerful. Every hair on my body was bristled, my instincts screaming at me to lower my head. 

I did not.

The rage, the hatred at the deranged human, burning within my body, stoked by the sudden appearance of that very creature responsible for all my suffering, did not let me bow to its might. The pressure of it, however, did not allow me more, not so much as a whimper, let alone open my maw in a roar.

"Frederic Ambrose Dungreen," the bug spoke each word carefully, its voice high, buzzing, and full of sharp clicks, yet powerful. "The names have been spoken, the trade is due to be made."

"T-the trade . . . ?" stammered the deranged human, staring dumbly at the hateful creature, as if unaware of what he had just done. Idiot. The realization soon settled down in his eyes, though. 

"A-ah, the trade, y-yes . . . " he said, his trembling hand pointing at me. "K-kill her, get rid of that beast."

The creature's wing flaps quickened, buzzing intensified. 

"The request was stated; the price must be agreed on," the creature spoke, exited, its utter disregard for my existence drawing rage from deep within me. Once already, it had robbed me of my life, and yet it did not even hesitate to do it again. 

Some price was more important to it.

Vexing, but my helplessness infuriating. 

Once again, me unable to do anything but fall prey to creature's whims. Well, not quite true. Its might, perhaps in the rapture, seemed to ease up a bit, and I managed to let out a strangled snarl, baring my teeth. 

Of course, the bug not even bother to acknowledge my displeasure, my rage. It delighted by my struggle if anything at all. The deranged male, though, flinched.

"A-anything . . . I'll pay anything, j-just kill the beast . . . "

"The trade was agreed upon," the bug didn't hesitate to declare, making an eerie clicking sound that made me shudder. Wrong. Chill size me, unpleasant pressure on the chest, in it even. Odd. My heartbeat gone. The reason? Likely, the gaping hole in my chest.

'W-what . . . w-w-when . . . how?' 

With my mind growing ever more muddled, I managed one last glare at the creature, and the deranged human. He seemed . . . relieved; the bug, on the other hand, very pleased. Just like the last time, back on Earth. And just like back then, its mouthful full of needle-sharp teeth hidden big mandibles twisting in a grin of some sort was the last thing I saw before I sank into the bright white light.

[End of the Prologue]

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Author’s note: Tomorrow we pick up the story, let's say, where the original began. However, I would really appreciate your thoughts on this part so far.

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