Page 8 of Mated to Monsters

I’m at a loss to even begin to understand what this is, feeling as though I’ve fallen into the maw of the gods below. Is this the end for us all? After everything we have all been through, it would all come to this?

"Help!"

"No!"

"I'll do whatever you ask! Just don't hurt me!"

The screaming is too much, and just the thought that my brother and sisters are adding to this din as they fear for their lives now leaves me glued to the spot. Where are they? Have they found shelter? I can’t bear to think of how scared they must be.

The air crackles with magic, making the hairs on my arms and back of my neck stand on end. This energy is so intense it’s a wonder anything can survive in its midst, and it makes that of the elves look like nothing but party trickery.

The ground shakes beneath me, the footsteps of the giant beast claiming everything in their wake, and I have no idea what I am going to do. So far, these monsters have their sights set firmly on destroying the elves, but what will happen then?

I clasp my hands over my thudding chest, the worry taking me over. I must try to get to my family—but what if I’m already too late?

6

GIROTH

Darkness swirls above us, magic cracking the sky open making me feel alive and alert. Around me the others appear, their faces indicating they are ready for the fight—eyes wild, teeth bared. A Trolvor howls, saliva dripping from a mouth that is hungry for blood.

Dark elves are scattered like ants, scrambling to assemble as they see the threat that we present. But they have no idea what we are made of, something that becomes obvious as they try to hurl anything they can at us using their magic. Pathetic summons that are less than what a demon whelp can conjure.

I was right; they are no real match for us.

Each look of shock and indignation as the chaos magic disrupts their pathetic attempts to slay us ignites something in me that has long been forgotten as I delight in their undoing—I am a demon after all and made for such darkness. Life with the hounds has kept my blackest nature suppressed. Now it is being unleashed for the first time in what seems like a lifetime.

I look on as their weapons are turned against them, their suffering etched on their faces as their bodies drop one by one to the hard ground, many not dead as they drown in their own blood and the gagging sounds make my blood sing. I need more of it.

“Forwards,” I cry, my voice deep and unyielding. I lead the charge and cutting down elf after elf with my sword is proving easy, the heads rolling across the ground like harvesting the fruits of trees.

They’re strong, there’s no doubt about that, and the look in their eyes is one that I recognize—dark and brutal. But there is also fear. The fear of wondering what they are dealing with and how they could fall so easily to us.

The sword I wield is far too big for them to defend against and I make easy work of their defenses as we advance. I slice bodies into a variety of shapes, marveling at how easily I can cut through tendon and bone, leaving muscle exposed so that their death is painful.

Chaos magic hangs in the air, rendering them next to useless when it comes to their own and this is not something they are accustomed to it would seem. No one can heal or defend.

Not only are our bodies stronger than them but our magic is too.

Screams litter the air and for the first time in a very long while I find myself feeling something other than misery. I even manage an amused smile as the Gilak rages, tossing the dark elves around as though they are scraps of meat being fed to the dogs.

“Leave none alive!” I command, swinging wildly with my sword and taking the head off the approaching elf, severing it so cleanly that his head goes flying through the air and crashing with a wet smack. I can’t afford to be distracted now, I have a job to do and the last thing I need is to displease Asmodeus. We need to act quickly and then be gone.

“Soz’garoth!” I call, demanding their magic attentions as I set out to complete the task I am charged with. Instantly he is by my side and I move on, knowing that with my sword and his chaos magic I can get on with it with as little interruption as possible from these damned elves.

Prowling around the settlement, I let the others see to the elves, my job is to round up the human females. I can smell their fear, even if their tiny screams are stifled by the chaos. The first that I find is so small I can hardly believe we are going to attempt to use them for breeding purposes. She screams as I stalk towards her and I smile as her fear feeds me.

“Mine,” I say, dragging out the word to see how she reacts before plucking her like a ripened fruit from the doorway in which she cowers. She fits underneath my arm perfectly and as I walk off another skitters past me as though she will not be needed now I have her friend.

I bare my teeth in a savage display of torment before catching her by her long, dark hair and wrapping an arm tightly around her waist once I have her. She beats at my arm, even sinking her teeth in and I tighten my grip, threatening to squeeze the life out of her if she does not stop.

Not that I will of course, these women are being harvested to serve a purpose not just for bloodsport, but I have little time for their nonsense. Nothing they do can stop this; whether they like it or not, and I am certain it is the latter, they are coming back with us. I’m not sure what their life has been like here on Protheka, from what we know it was not something to be worried about losing.

She stills under my arm as I hold her tightly, the only thing I feel now being the slight pressure against my arm as her futile endeavors to escape it begin to die down.

“The slaves!” bellows a dark elf once he sees what I am doing.

“My slaves,” I hiss, throwing the women to the Volvath holding the shackles before kicking the elf to the ground. He looks up at me, his eyes wide before I bring my foot down upon his head, hearing the shattering of bone instantly as his head gives way beneath my larger frame.

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