Posted by Moore on March 11, 2004 at 06:28:21:
Our two sides line up across the shallow river. Ice chunks float on the cold water. One tribe will hunt this area; one tribe will be buried.
I am a tall, muscled, shaggily black haired barbarian named Turvusk. We barbarians are working ourselves into a battle frenzy on one side, as you Amazons remove your winter garb and apply oil to your bodies on the other.
Both sides exchange insults. The excitement mounts. Single warriors run over to the other side's lines to prove their bravery. Finally, a signal is given, and both sides charge.
I match up against an unpleasant, overweight blonde. She charges toward me, already out of breath. She jabs at me with her spear; her movements slow and ungraceful. I side step easily. I this the best warrior the powerful Amazons have?
"Arrgh-owgh", she screams. Her momentum is halted by an axe. My axe, which I have buried into her fat stomach. Spilling pink ribbons of entrails, her steaming spirit leaves her through the huge, gapping wound.
You throw your spear about 3 meters away from a shield biting barbarian. Your aim is true: the spear goes over the top of his shield and into his face. There is a large splash as he falls. "Boring, and too quick" you think. You deserve more of a challenge to sweeten the victory.
Your eyes meet mine as you pull your spear free. "This is the one." you think. A chill, a premonition of death, runs through you and excites you.
Your stomach seems to have a target on it. "This sexy one with the great body should die slow, a proper sacrifice on the altar", I think.
You charge, fluid and quick. You scream a battle cry as you close. You thrust your spear in a left side feint. I am a barbarian, not a Roman (this time), your subtlety is lost on me. I simply cut off the head of your extended spear.
Your ferocity surprises me, for instead of looking shocked, or fatally hesitating, you jump on me. Your weight knocks me down in the shallow, slippery river, and sends my axe flying. Instead of running away, you begin strangling me. My neck is thick, and my heavy winter fur cloak prevents my instant death. All you can do is squeeze and hope I go unconscious soon.
I find this erotic. A thin, lovely, oiled Amazon is strangling me? I must not enjoy myself too much, I must fight for my tribe!
I pull forth my antler pommelled dagger. Its iron blade will find a new scabbard in your guts!
You are on top of me, and you don't see the dagger in time. I push it in, past your strong stomach muscles. You scream as your stomach seems to catch fire. The pain! You can't continue to squeeze my neck. Your back arches, and you try to sit up. I grab the back of your neck to prevent you from getting away.
I smile evilly as our eyes meet. I twist the knife. It cuts, twists, and wraps your entrails around it. You scream anew. You curse me, but I just grin. My blood lust is up, and as you sweat despite the cold, I think I have never seen any as beautiful. I move the blade up and down, back and forth, cutting and tearing. I can see the blade moving inside of you, through the skin of your belly.
"You are not going to beg for your life?", I ask in a mocking tone. You grunt a curse, and spit in my face. Your breath is coming in short pants, and your hands are feeling cold.
I take the dagger, and begin cutting again. Not deep thrusts, but sawing from the center wound over to your left hipbone. I jerk the dagger two or three centimeters at a time. Each movement of the dagger brings new pain, and more screams. Pink entrails begin to show as the dagger blade scrapes at last against your pelvis. You are gasping. You glare at me, and try to hit my face.
"I shall sing a song tonight of your bravery, how, despite your wound, you fought to the end. What is your name?" I ask.
You tell me. I nod, look over your bloody stomach, heaving chest, shapely shoulders, wild eyes, thick hair, and say; "It is time for you to die."
I take the dagger from your side as you hiss. I put the dagger back to the ruin of your navel, and push it in deep. Your back arches as you scream, driving the dagger even deeper.
I pull it most of the way out, and begin jerking it across the unruined flesh of your stomach. The blade slowly cuts ever closer to your right hip bone. You can hear only faintly now the sounds of battle, and your blood is bright on the snow. Death is near - did you think that or did I say it?
Your entrails begin flowing out. You put your hands down to stop them, but what is the point in doing so? You let out one last scream, which fades into a moan, as I cut what is left of your guts into ribbons of flesh.
Everything fades into darkness.
I wrote this story as an ending to an instant message thingy between myself and amazongabriela@yahoo.com She is, unfortunately, living in central Europe, so it is very hard to coordinate when both of us are online at the same time. IMing is a lot of fun, so kill her if you can catch her online.