Today’s snippet, titled “Impregnated”, is a piece I wrote about a PC in Mark’s evil Pathfinder Campaign.
Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
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When she was young, she met a girl who claimed she could see the future. Sarita told her that she would one day bed a man no man could see, that she would bear a child that had no father, and that she would die with no one left to love her, nor even remember her name.
Nyx had punched the smarmy little bitch right in the face and then set her favorite doll on fire.
Now she wondered if the girl had actually possessed the gift of long sight. Nightly, beneath a blanket of stars, Nyx felt the invisible touch of her astral lover – he was a man (she hoped!) no man could see. The deck had nearly taken the only love she knew – that of her brother, Nikodemos – and left her bereft of any affection. And now this.
“It’ll gestate, then it’ll eat it’s way out of your belly like a tumor of festering maggots – only faster and bloodier and probably a lot more fucking painful.”
That was Hefe’s way of reassuring Marcus. Nyx pursed her lips so hard they went white.
Both she and Marcus had taken wounds while fighting those horrible, croaking squick-toads. Both she and Marcus were now infected – for she was loathe to use the word pregnant – with their evil, hungry, devouring offspring. Sarey was fairly sure that they would be dead within seven days, if a cure was not found.
Fortunately – Sarey had retained Gehsan’s clever brain and quick wits, though it was still a little jarring to look over at her little friend and find a voluptuous elven maid in her place. The witch would be able to cure them, purging their bodies of the vile little bastards before they could do any irreparable damage.
Physical, damage that is, for Nyx was certain her mental and emotional states would never recover from the feelings that lingered after the attack; she felt violated, raped in a way that was not literal and yet equally sacrosanct. She wanted to vomit until her stomach was empty and her esophagus bled, to claw a hole in her abdomen and rip free every last squirming egg or tadpole. She wanted to go home, to curl up in a feather bed with a quilt and some wine and have Dae sing her to sleep and when she woke up, her tongue thick with sleep and her brain fuzzy from the alcohol, to find that this entire thing had just been a long, horrible bad dream.
She wanted it to be over.
Yet.
Yet, there was so much coin to be made here. So much. It was nearly impossible to resist especially for her – for she knew her own avarice knew almost no bounds.
“We’ll take care of it as soon as Sarey’s had her rest, Marcus. Just, stop pacing.”
Nyx glanced up from her seat to see that Marcus was indeed still walking a groove in the floor of the enchanted hut. Rick did not say much at all, but when he did, it was surprisingly mild. Nyx had not yet formed any real opinion of their two new comrades, except that she was certain that Rick was spelled with a silent P, and that Marcus was as knocked-up as she.
At least I won’t die alone, screaming. She thought, morbidly. The male dhampir will like, totally suffer the same way I do. Maybe worse, since he’s a man and they like, tolerate pain as good as babies, crying over every hangnail.
That thought made her smile a bit and she relaxed against the wall, pressing her hand against her belly. The pose was similar to one she had seen expectant mothers fall into, cradling the bulge tenderly. Scrunching up her face, she punched herself. I hope that hurt, you icky little bastards! With a grunt, she did it again and again.
Sarey’s hand fell upon Nyx’s, preventing her from continuing with the beating.
“That ain’t gonna fix anything, Nyxy,” Sarey said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It ain’t like a real baby in there.”
“It makes me feel better.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she shook her head, still holding Nyx’s hand. “Get some rest, okay? I told you that I’d fix it once I have all my power again.”
It felt weird to put her trust in anyone other than Nikodemos – and frankly, even to trust him, sometimes – but Nyx had no choice. Sarey was as close to a friend as she was likely to find and the woman knew that it was in the group’s best interest to keep her whole and uneaten-alive-by-squick-toad-tadpoles.
“Yeah,” Nyx said, sighing. “All right. But if we ever like, see any of those fucking bastards again, I’m not going anywhere near them.”
“Right?” Sarey grinned. “Let the boys get proper fucked by the Slaadi, and we can watch them squirm.”
“You’re wicked. I knew I liked you.”
The two young women exchanged a smile and settled in to try and get some rest. Maybe tomorrow would be a better – less squicky – day. Not that she could tell the time down here – night or day, it was all the same.
The thought made her suddenly sad and as she drifted off to sleep, a tear wet her cheek.
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Note: Image is “pregnancy” by (memoossa) from SXC.hu