Her mace cracked his jaw, blood splattered into her eyes and teeth shattered on impact. He tumbled over and landed with a smack on the hard stone floor. Amelia retreated up the staircase and vomited into the remains of a sink. Footsteps from downstairs, then more and shouts for help. Someone was coming up the stairs.
Ammy-Mel was now a killer, and she'd have to keep killing. Shit, it didn't have to be this way.
Her belly agreed with her, acid and rust curdled like spoiled milk together with her guilt and regret at taking a human life— but what if they would force her into... that was it. They worship demons. People who worship demons are evil.
"Lord Hamala will forgive you!" Salwa called, "After you birth his minions into the world, the imps are good to you!"
Imps, from her womb? "Now you're just tryin' to piss me off," she muttered.
"Where are you, city girl...?" Salwa called like some kind of shrill succubus herself. The fat cow with her chub-chub wobbled in the next room. Amelia kicked a rock across the room. Salwa entered. Amelia found herself targeting the woman's leg when she entered. She shut her eyes and went for her jaw.
"No." Salwa had gripped the mace, her eyes crazed and coloured bright pink instead of their dull brown. "You'll come with us," she said in a voice that belonged to some unholy creature, "with us," she repeated. Her voice boomed throughout the house and made Ammy's ears ring.
Ammy would fuck on her own terms, not on some demon-possessed bitch's. She increased her muscle mass and swung down to bring Salwa to the floor and kicked her in the mouth.
"Fat cunt." Ammy spat and gave her another kick.
She stepped away when she remembered every bloody fucking protagonist in every show and book who made the mistake she was about to.
A deep breath, she had to make peace. Now she knew for a fact, for herself, that there are evil religions present that likely were the source of the corruption that consumed this world. This wasn't like religion back home; this was like Warhammer, where cults must be eliminated. She gripped her mace, increased her muscle mass again and brought it down on the woman's head.
Splat.
She wanted to do a million things at once, puke, die, scream, cry, punch the wall, jump, fly. But she took these fleeting seconds to steady herself.
Nullshade, I want a hot guy to hold and fuck tonight.
Objective: Flee South toward Salem Kingdom and establish contact with the military to reach Tolmyr Nullshade, the creator of the Nullshade spell and squad.
Secondary objective?: Sex
Info:
Body enhancements and manipulations are now available beyond growing an adjustable penis.
Current limits:
No extra limbs
No total form changes, such as goat legs (Why did you think of a goat?)
I hear that.
She braced against the wall as three people came up the stairs. She swung around and took the first man's face, collapsed the side of his head and crushed his brain on impact. He tumbled down over his mates, she jumped at them and increased her mass. They landed in a heap with the snapping of bones, squashing of muscles and organs. She shut her eyes to avoid the fountain of blood that gushed over her.
A girl down below screamed; she sounded young. Amelia spat the vomit that she trapped in her mouth on impact.
"Don't move." she said firmly, "Who are you, who are these people?"
"SHE'S FROM SALEM!"
More men and women shouted.
Fuck.
She dashed toward the girl but tripped and landed on her side. One of the maces slipped out of her hand. The girl took the mace and went for Amelia's head, but Ammy rolled away. Kicked the girl's legs out. With regret, she bashed her head in. The crunch and squish echoed in her mind as she grabbed the mace and tried to leave quietly.
The next building made her think of a typical fantasy inn, a large open space, an old wooden bar, but this one was made of stone. Chairs, tables, the bits that remained of them, and a small rise for performers with tight corridors in the back. She went up the stairs and found herself face to face with that beautiful effeminate man.
He raised his hands, "You can go, Hamala forgives all."
She avoided looking down at his loincloth, "Who is Hamala, why did you want to turn me into a breeding slave?"
"What?" he asked incredulously, "No, no, we offer pleasure and the only price is the joy of birthing his children. There's no pain, no suffering, and the children also provide pleasure upon birth. They enhance our bodies and allow us to please each other more."
"Y-y-y-you mean the birthed imps, fuck their mothers?"
"Yes, and it enhances your ability to feel and please," he said as if it were the sweetest gift that could be given in the world.
Ammy swung for his face, but the man was a blur. He knocked her to the floor, his punch knocked the wind from her lungs before she could react.
What the—
He dropped his loincloth, exposing a penis too large for a human being. It was purple and covered in veins. She couldn't even look past it to see his face, but she knew now. She certainly knew. This man is one of the children, and he was Salwa's child.
"Kill me." she demanded.
"No." his voice was too gentle, like a child's, and he lowered himself.
In panic, Ammy increased her body's mass. The wooden floor groaned; her arm displaced his foot. He tumbled back in shock from being thrown off balance. Amelia snapped his dick in half. Then made a cavity in his face with a downward cross. Her muscles screamed in pain. She couldn't feel her arms or her legs. If she were captured here, she'd be turned into a breeding slave. She thought about increasing her mass until it killed her, but something in her chest was empty. She needed to figure out what she could do, her right arm was useless, her left arm could move a bit...
She took ragged breaths and reached for the knife she kept in her belt.
If you don't do it, you'll suffer a fate worse than death.
A fate worse than death.
Worse than anything.
Reverse grip on the knife... she brought it down on the back of her neck.