The Beast towers over Ramsey’s previous heigh. The tentacles writhe and lash independently, thick and thin, all of them covered in slime.

  Jayson staggers backwards, his cosmic wood sword trembling in his grip. His last attack has left him drained, his heart heavy and hammering irregularly against his ribs.

  “What the hell are you?” says Jayson.

  “I am one of the first subjects of PLOT ARMOR!” says Ramsey, his overlapping voices proud. “I was supposed to be the first of the angelic beings to bring Heaven to this server! Mr. Exe promised me great power! BUT HE LIED! The inhibitors locked my power away and Mr. Exe kept me in a cage. Poking, prodding, syphoning, making me docile, loopy, goofy, an imbecile. But thanks to you, I am free. The real Ramsey is here!”

  Ramsey two toned roars shake the air, flinging spit from his elongated maw, and he charges forward, each step making a thunderous thump. Jayson tries dodging, but Ramsey’s massive claws catch Jayson across the chest, sending him flying into a bank of monitors. The crash creates multiple pops of sparks and broken glass. Blood streams from gashes across Jayson’s torso and the new cuts on his skin as he tries to push himself upright. Meanwhile, Mortimer stands up, groaning and rubbing his head. He turns, sees Ramsey, and his eyes pop and his tail puffs out.

  “Holy shit!” yells Mortimer.

  Ramsey snatches Mortimer with one of his tentacles and yanks him in the air by his ankle. “SILENCE, LOSER!”

  Ramsey slams Mortimer against the concrete floor repeatedly before hurling him across the factory. Mortimer’s mask breaks and his electrical equipment short out in cascades of colorful sparks. Mortimer rolls to a stop near a pile of debris, limp and blood spreading from beneath his broken form.

  “Pathetic,” sneers Ramsey. He flexes his claws and surveys the destruction around him, snarling at the fire and crumbling factory. “What a mess.”

  “Mortimer!” cries Claribel, her voice muffled and barely heard over the gunshots, explosions, and snapping metal.

  Ramsey turns to Claribel, his lips spreading to reveal his fangs in a predatory smile. Claribel is out in the open, clutching her Thompson rifle tight, and her Stetson hat secured firmly on her head. Even in her disheveled state, Ramsey cannot help but drool thick globs of saliva at the sight of her.

  “Claribel… I see you,” says Ramsey, his jovial, double toned voice tainted with lust.

  Claribel’s red eyes widen in horror as she watches Ramsey’s mutated form walk towards her with heavy steps. She backs up, aiming her weapon at him.

  “Stay back!” yells Claribel.

  Ramsey’s grin widens. “No.”

  He charges Claribel, and she screams and unloads her Thompson rifle on him, but the bullets do nothing to stop him. Ramsey tackles Claribel to the ground, his weight crushing her beneath him as his claws pin her arms. The impact drives the air from her lungs, her eyes bulging from pain and horror behind the gasmask’s faceplate.

  “No!” yells Claribel, struggling futilely against his overwhelming strength.

  Ramsey carefully removes Claribel’s gasmask and hat, exposing her face and blonde hair to the Reel Sight fumes and chemical smoke. He inhales deeply, savoring her scent while she coughs and wheezes, struggling even more and her tail thrashing and rattling.

  “Much better,” purrs Ramsey.

  One of Ramsey’s tentacles slithers down Claribel’s torso, burrowing beneath her vest. With a single, savage motion, the tentacle rips the vest open, sending buttons flying in all directions, exposing her sweat-dampened, near transparent blouse. Claribel hisses and thrashes, her tail rattling loud and her legs kicking at Ramsey, but his weight is too much. She cannot escape.

  The tentacle continues its unwelcomed exploration, leaving a trail of slime across Claribel’s ruined shirt. Her breath catches in her throat, equal parts disgust and terror. Her struggle intensifies, flexing her arms, bucking her body, kicking and whipping him with her tail. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she tilts her head to the side as Ramsey’s thick slobber drips on her head. Ramsey’s tentacle slithers higher, brushing against Claribel’s throat.

  “I have waited so long for this moment. Ever since Thaddeus Yap sent me your picture I knew I wanted you. Needed you. Now I have you,” says Rasmey.

  “Get… Off… Me…” grunts Claribel.

  “No.”

  Across the factory, Jayson struggles to his feet, drenched in blood from all the gashes and cuts that have torn his body open. The remaining hallucinogenic effects of the Reel Sight have been flushed out by the adrenaline flooding his veins, but not even the adrenaline can keep him from feeling light headed and wobbly.

  He sees Ramsey’s monstrous form pinning Claribel, his chest heaving and tentacles writher and groping her. The Beast is completely distracted with Claribel, and Jayson’s eyes lock onto him.

  He grips his cosmic wood sword tightly, despite the tremor in his limbs, and he stumbles forward, each step sending fresh waves of agony through his battered body. The sword’s blue energy pulses weakly, but he pushes through the debris field, chemical and smoke clouds, and puddles.

  Meanwhile, Ramsey lowers his elongated face towards Claribel’s neck, his moist, putrid breath hot against her orange and brown scales. His long tongue traces her cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of saliva that shines in the fire’s light. Claribel whimpers and squirms, her vision clouding with tears and a sickness rotting her body from the inside out.

  “Your mine now. Forever,” says Ramsey.

  A slender tentacle slides underneath Claribel’s blouse and jerks upward, tearing it open and exposing her orange and light orange scale, her lithe body, and her Block World bra.

  “MORTIMER!” shrieks Claribel, her voice cracking with sobs and body thrashing. “MORTIMER, HELP ME! PLEASE!”

  The Reel Sight fumes are now affecting Claribel. The edges of her vision blur with kaleidoscopic patterns and broken structures pulse and swirl with colors while butterflies, orbs, and whisps populate the air.

  “Mortimer is dead. You’re mine now,” rumbles Ramsey.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  An angry roar cuts through the chemical-laden air, and Jayson strikes Ramsey from above like a missile, his cosmic wood sword slamming against Ramsey’s back, crashing the Beast down on top of Claribel while a blue shockwave rips apart the tentacles. The severed appendages fly off, rapidly aging with the spraying blood and Ramsey’s back. Ramsey howls in agony and Jayson rolls back to his feet on the ground, panting and trembling, blood dripping off him and his weapon and his blue eyes locked on Ramsey.

  To Jayson there is just him and Ramsey in the dark void. He only sees Claribel because she is beneath the Beast. Jayson charges Ramsey again, feral eyes wide and a vicious scream roaring from his wide mouth.

  A new tentacle bursts from Ramsey’s shredded back and whacks Jayson across the factory. Jayson hits a wall with a loud thud, the impact driving what little air remains from his lungs. His weapon clatters to the ground as he crumples in a heap, blood streaming from his fresh wounds.

  “Another loser,” snarls Ramsey while pushing himself off Claribel.

  Claribel wheezes and coughs for air, and more tentacles sprout from Rasmey’s wounds. He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, and Claribel whimpers and crawls away on her hands and knees, her torn blouse hanging beneath her coat and her tail rattling frantically. Only to be grabbed by one of Ramsey’s tentacles and dragged back to him.

  “No!” screams Claribel, her fingers clawing at the concrete and tears streaming down her dirty face.

  “HEY UGLY!” Lexia’s voice booms from atop a pile of debris, wielding her bazooka. Her white and brown fur is matted with blood, venom, and grime. “EAT THIS!”

  Lexia shoots a rocket at Ramsey. The resulting blast sends Ramsey staggering sideways, tentacles flailing wildly as chinks of his mutated flesh are torn away by the blast.

  “Yes!” Lexia pumps her fist triumphantly and pulls another rocket from thin air. “That’s how Bazooka Bunny does it! And you owe me a dinner and a date for saving your scales, Claribel!”

  “Was that supposed to hurt?” says Ramsey.

  Lexia’s mouth clamps shut, her eyes bulged, and her ears drooped as the thin smoke cleared. Ramsey’s massive form straightens in the thing smoke. The wounds on his body sprout more tentacles, and what isn’t claimed by tentacles has new skin grown over it. His bulky chest heaves, his teeth grind, and his red eyes glow like hot metal. He roars, spraying filthy slobber from his large mouth, and charges Lexia, dragging Claribel through the air with his tentacle.

  Lexia swears and launches another rocket. But Ramsey whacks it away with one of his tentacles, and in seconds he reaches Lexia and snaps his hand around her throat before she can escape while his other hand crushes her bazooka like a soda can before tossing it aside.

  Ramsey hoists Lexia up, bringing her face to face with him, his putrid breath washing over her brown and white face, and she claws at his grip, her powerful legs kicking uselessly against his mutated hide.

  “Such a fighter. Let’s see what’s beneath all that armor,” says Ramsey.

  “Don’t you dare,” snarls Lexia.

  Ramsey ignores her. His tentacles slither around her body, finding the buckles and straps of her homemade cuirass. They snap each fastening, and Lexia’s cuirass falls away, leaving her in her tank top, the fabric wet and dirty from sweat and the brutal battle, leaving large areas transparent.

  “No freebies! People pay if they want to see the goods!” says Lexia.

  “Cute. But consider this payback for destroying my factory,” says Ramsey.

  More tentacles pull Lexia’s arms behind her back and wrap around her legs, bending her spine painfully as Ramsey forces her into an arch that thrusts her chest forward. He lifts her higher with his tentacles, positioning her so she is facing the ceiling.

  “Much better,” says Ramsey, his eyes roaming over her form with predatory hunger.

  Lexia’s breathing comes in shallow gasps as the position strains her muscles and joints. The damp tank top clings to her muscled body and the tentacles tighten their grip, threatening to dislocate her limbs if Ramsey wishes.

  “I’ll… Kill… You…” growls Lexia through her gritted teeth, blood dripping from her injured hand and her sight upside down from her head tilted back as she hangs suspended.

  Ramsey’s two toned laugh echoes in the burning factory. “Brave words from a lagomorph in your position.”

  Ramsey’s tentacles writhe and slither across Lexia’s suspended form. One appendage traces the curve of her hip while another coils around her waist, leaving glistening trails of slime that soak through her tank top. A tentacle slips beneath Lexia’s tank top, the slick appendage sliding up her toned abdomen. With a sudden jerk, the tentacle tears the fabric apart, exposing Lexia’s pink bra with yellow stars and the white fur of her flat stomach, which is wet from sweat. The contrast between her white abdomen and the rich brown fur covering her ribs and back.

  Lexia screams out curses and thrashes violently as more tentacles join the violation, with one tracing her jaw, another squeezing her chest, and another sliding along her inner thigh. Down below, Claribel tries to wiggle her way out, but Ramsey’s tentacle coils around her throat and tugs her, putting her back into a painful bend, making her gag and claw uselessly at him.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” says Ramsey.

  “You’re gonna die, you pervert!” yells Lexia.

  “Oh? Who’s going to kill me? You? Claribel? That inept fox? The starving hobo? Please, spare me the stupidity. I’d like to enjoy you without your lack of intellect ruining it.”

  Claribel grunts and wheezes. Her hands work their way between her throat and Ramsey’s tentacle, and she shoves it just far enough for her to gasp for air. Thinner tentacles burst from Ramsey’s flesh and wrap around Claribel’s limbs. They pull her arms over head and coil around her thighs. Her torn blouse hangs in tatters, exposing her green Block World bra and the brown stripe that goes from her forehead, down her snout and neck, and stops between her cleavage. And a thick tentacle squeezes around Claribel’s chest, making her gasp and thrash in the grip.

  “I wonder which one will break first,” says Rasmey.

  He lifts Claribel to his eyes, meeting her teary eyed glare with a grin.

  “My precious Claribel.”

  Claribel hisses, and Ramsey brings Lexia down to his eye level. She grunts and jerks in his hold and tries biting him when his tentacle rubs her face.

  “Or the infamous Bazooka Bunny. I had custom plushies ordered depicting both of you. Money well spent, but the real deal is always better.”

  Claribel grimaces, and Lexia attempts to kick Ramsey, but her leg only awkwardly flails while the tentacles explore her and Claribel’s thighs, making both females scream.

  “You’re digging your grave! When I get down from here, I’ll sodomize you with a barbed baseball bat and then cut your heart out with a root shovel!” yells Lexia.

  Ramsey’s shark teeth glisten from saliva in the fire’s light. “Bet.”

  A distant crash echoes from somewhere in the factory, but Ramsey pays no mind to it. His attention is fixed on Lexia and Claribel. The factory’s emergency lights flicker, casting the grotesque scene in alternating shadows and harsh illumination. He lifts the two females higher and starts walking through the carnage.

  “Time for us to go somewhere more private,” purrs Ramsey.

  Claribel thrashes in the appendages, her body twisting and turning in the air, and Lexia growls and flexes her arms and legs in an attempt to break free, her teeth gritted and throat hurting from her screams.

  “Jayson, I swear to God if you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick your ass!” yells Lexia. She doesn’t even see him in the fire and smoke, but she knows he’s down somewhere.

  “I’m going to have so much fun with you two. The fantasies are already forming!” says Ramsey gleefully.

  Claribel looks at Lexia, hyperventilating and tears streaming down her eyes, watching helplessly as Lexia as struggles with her. Ramsey’s tentacles continue kneading and groping their chests and thighs, leaving sticky trails on their fur, scales, and the remnants of their clothes with increasing obscenity.

  “Stop… Please…” gasps Claribel.

  “No. I finally have you, and you will be mine forever,” says Ramsey.

  Then Ramsey presses Lexia and Claribel together, face to face, chest to chest. Lexia’s white and brown fur is flush against Claribel’s orange and brown scales. Their heads rest on each other’s shoulders, both panting and faces wet with tears and sweat, their white and blonde locks tangling together. Nearby, explosions and bursting flames shake the area and send out hot waves that cover the three in soot and ash.

  Ramsey’s warbling and guttural, double layered laugh echoes through the burning factory, and his steps increase in speed, causing Lexia and Claribel to bob in their air, their chins bouncing on each other’s shoulders.

  “We need to go somewhere far away so I can rebuild in peace and enjoy my new toys!” says Ramsey.

  Lexia and Claribel’s struggles weaken. The combination of venom, exhaustion, and Ramsey’s crushing grip has sapped their strength. And somewhere in the fire, Jayson and Mortimer lie broken and motionless, soaking in their blood.