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EROTIC HORROR

The Valsa Chronicles Shadow Play

The Valsa Chronicles Shadow Play

by redblellowgreen
20 min read
4.64 (2100 views)
adultfiction

Well, when factoring in the time it takes to submit and get the story approved, I've probably missed out on Halloween by a bit. So, here's my little celebration for the spooky season, just in time for the spookiest holiday of all, National Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day! A holiday as specific and mysterious as a monster story itself! This is a standalone "What if" scenario based on the "Welcome to Valsa" seriesβ€”"What if the monster girls were a bit more monstrous?" Think of it as a dark detour from the rest of the series, in keeping with the season. Reading the original should not be strictly necessary, but also may heighten your appreciation of the context. Not your jam? I'll be back with the less spooky content in a few days. Hope you enjoy!

Trigger warnings include, but are not limited to:

Graphic Violence: Includes detailed descriptions of physical injury and pain, including gouging, lacerations, and death.

Body Horror: The depiction of transformations, exposed skeletons, and unnatural mutilation.

Non-consensual Sexual Situations: Includes depictions of sexual activity without explicit consent.

Gore: Scenes, including sexual scenes, involving blood, body parts, and explicit wounds.

Death and Resurrection: Characters die and come back repeatedly, often involving traumatic circumstances.

Manipulation and Mind Control: Scenes involving characters who are forced or controlled into acting against their will.

Psychological Distress: Includes themes of helplessness, gaslighting, and fear of losing one's mind.

Predatory Behaviour: Characters are depicted preying on others both physically and sexually.

***

Jev woke. He flexed his jaw and scrunched up his eyes at the burning pain he felt throughout his body. He could feel the strange, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He lifted himself from the wooden floor, looking around. He was in a houseβ€”one that looked like his house, but different. Everything seemed just a bit off. Nothing seemed to meet at right angles, and there were strange inconsistencies, as though it were a peculiar copy built by a drunk. No lights were on, the only light seemed to be from the television, and from moonlight filtering through the window.

He brushed himself off, looking around. The room was enclosed in a way that his living room wasn't. Where normally he would walk freely into the dining room, instead there was a solid wall with a single door. But where there was normally a door to the bedroom, there was none. He could hear a quiet clicking, like someone tapping their nails on a table, but the source of the sound was nowhere to be seen.

Jev walked to the window to try to look outside, but there was nothing beyond. Though moonlight seemed to stream through the window, there was no obvious sign of its source as outside the window was impossibly black. Black in a way that was so profoundly empty that it felt almost uncomfortable to look into it. The television was on, but displayed "no signal", in a way that seemed impossible given that no cables emerged from it. Confused, he pressed the power button, which flicked the television off, only for it to flash back to life with a "no signal" sign.

"Yeah," he grunted in quiet frustration, "me too, buddy."

A loud crash sounded from somewhere deeper within the house, though Jev couldn't imagine what could have caused the sound, but whatever it was it sounded close, and getting closer. Concerned, his fingers wrapped around the handle to the exterior door, and pushed. It swung open readily as Jev walked outside. It was night, and a cool breeze blew over him, carrying the scent of rotting vegetable matter past him. Where normally there was a small porch and a yard before reaching the fields, here the beans grew right up to the door. They were tangled, dry-looking things which seemed to be half dead, and yet they seemed to be growing right before his eyes. Dione's tree loomed ahead, though now it seemed to be surrounded by a small copse of trees which emerged from a forest and formed a nearly impenetrable wall of dull green in all directions around the house.

Cautiously, Jev walked to the tree, the gnarled old oak standing imposingly over its neighbours like a mother goose sheltering her chicks. He pushed into the copse of trees, their sharp spines leaving oozing trails of blood on his arms as they slashed past. But eventually, he reached the great tree at its heart. There, beside a puddle which had formed within the roots of her tree, Dione knelt serenely, as if asleep.

"Dione!"

Her head raised and she stood, turning to face him. A warm smile crossed her face as her eyes met him before turning to a look of concern. The roots of the oak tree writhed beneath her, twisting together like a knot of mating snakes, but if Dione was concerned, she didn't show it.

"Jev! What's happened to you? You're hurt! Come here, let me take care of you, my love"

She crossed the space between them and he fell into her arms, his heartbeat settling as he felt them wrap around him. For the first time since waking, he felt like he'd found something normal. And yet, even this seemed wrong, somehow. Dione's skin, normally smooth and soft like polished oak, felt like bark beneath his touch. Her hair was a tangle of vines. Her face, normally a mask of gentle perfection, seemed sharper, more angular. Even her smell wasn't quite right, the usual scent of cedar and honeysuckle that followed her was tempered, muted slightly by the smell of must and decay that pervaded the space around her.

"Dione? Are you ok?"

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Unconcerned, she rose to press her lips to his. For a moment, his concerns fell silent as their tongues entwined. Then she bit down, hard. He screamed in pain and betrayal, spitting out blood and searching her face for an explanation, but her serene smile remained, offering no answers. Her grip around his body grew tight. He felt a slithering along his leg. Looking down, he could see a wooden root twisting around his leg. He tried to pull back from it, but it bound him tighter. A cold shard of panic rose from within him, tempered slightly by the hope that this was Dione's doing.

"Dione? What's going on?"

She whispered quietly into his ear.

"I'm going to do for you what I've always wanted, Jev. I'm going to protect you. I only want to keep you safe, here, as part of my forest."

There were now several roots binding his legs, constricting tightly. The crushing pain from his legs and the rising panic through his chest meant that Jev never saw the massive thorn emerging from the back of Dione's hand. All he felt was the splinter of pain that wracked through his body as she drove it through his heart, its bloody point emerging red from his back. The sudden agony sent his mind into a spiral. Surely she hadn't meant to do that. Surely this was somehow an accident. He gasped in surprise as he felt strength slowly leave him. The last thing he felt was Dione's lips meeting his own, her hand, red with his blood, caressing the side of his face. He couldn't pull away. His body didn't have the strength to move him. He felt the slow, soft drip of his blood pooling from his body around the roots that held him fast.

"Feed my forest well, my love."

***

Jev rose from the floor with a gasp, clutching at his chest. No raw, ragged hole seemed evident, and not even his clothes seemed damaged. He could feel his heart pumping hard in the state of panic he was in, evidently undamaged, but he could still feel the pain of the thorn Dione had driven through it like the dull ache of a toothache. He wanted to dismiss it as a twisted dream, but despite the lack of evidence, Jev's senses told him it was too real.

He looked around. He was in the living room again. And yet, it wasn't the living room he'd been in before. The furniture was different. The television on the wall, rather than displaying "no signal" showed a rainbow of distorted lines, scanning across the screen, occasionally resolving into an image that stayed clear for a fraction of a second before dissolving into distortion again. He could see the occasional glimpse of the gentle curve of a feminine body, apparently nude, though it was nearly impossible to glean more detail from it than that.

He heard that quiet clicking sound again, and he felt his blood pressure rise, though he wasn't sure why. From behind a door that should have led to the bathroom, a trill of laughter, mirthless and cold filled the air, and in a moment of instinct, unsure of exactly why, Jev threw himself into another door, one that shouldn't have been there and had no reason to exist.

As the door closed behind him, Jev realised he was in the barn. Through the gaps between the roof boards, Jev could see streams of silver moonlight, illuminating the farming implements that lived within in beams of cold light. Everything felt out of scale here. The several tractors here that he could see stood the size of small houses and glinted in the silver light with razor-sharp corners and edges which looked primed to slice flesh and remove fingers. Even worse were the attachments, like nightmare versions of themselves; a thresher with its cowling removed, its insides revealing blades and spikes, all dulled with rust, a brush hog tall enough to fit a man into, its blades gleaming threateningly, and even the watering trailer, benign though it usually was, seemed filled with some chemical concoction that he was sure was somehow hazardous.

In the distance, he heard chains clinking softly together in a way that made his breath catch. He told himself it might have been the wind, but his limbic system stayed unconvinced. Slowly and quietly, he backed up to the door he'd entered through. His hand gripped the handle and it pushed open. The soft clinking of chains in the distance held his attention, and his eyes scanned through the space for any sign of movement. Cautiously, he walked backwards into the doorway, expecting the warm thunk of polished wood from the living room floor as his foot landed. Instead, it was the gentle rustle of dried old straw. He looked up at the moonlight streaming through gaps in the roofboard. He was back in the barn.

The same smell of old oil absorbed by mouldering straw filled the air. The clink of chains in the distance, further than before, but still present. Absent were the common sounds of the barn, the soft scuttling of rats, the quiet hooting of owls in the rafters. It was as though the whole building stood, holding its breath in anticipation of what he was going to do, now that he knew that he couldn't escape.

A loud thunk and the screech of metal on metal filled the barn, sending Jev's heart into his throat. It seemed closer than the clinking chains. He looked around, tense, for any sign of movement as he slowly walked further from the door that he knew offered no solace. His ears stood alert for the slightest sound. And then he heard it. Breathing. Slow, rhythmic breathing. And it was close. Carefully, he pulled away from the sound, but his bootlace snagged on a spike of metal from the nightmare mower beside him. Carefully, he tried to dislodge it, but the great blade it was attached to moved as he did. The squeak it made was brief and quiet. Maybe whatever it was in the barn with him hadn't heard. Jev froze. But the slow, rhythmic breathing had stopped, replaced by the sound of deliberate sniffs of the air. Heavy footfalls followed them into the distance.

His eyes lighted on another door on the far wall. Maybe if Jev played the game, he'd be allowed to make progress. Cautiously, cursing his heavy steel-toed boots, he made his way to the doorway, painfully slow but cautious. Then he saw it.

Only a flicker of movement was visible, but he caught it. The shape was huge, lurking in the impossibly dark shadows of the barn. An arm reached up, muscular and furred, and brushed the chains that hung from the rafters, setting them clinking against each other again. And then it disappeared, moving away with purpose. He'd seen it. Did it see him? He couldn't know. He tried to listen carefully for hints of where the monster might be, but his ears rushed instead with pulsing blood.

Panicked people die; calm people survive.

He'd heard the saying on some television show years ago. He wasn't sure what brought it to his head, but he recited it like a mantra internally to keep his body from bolting to the door. One slow step at a time, he approached. The door was three metres away. Then two... And then he felt the eyes on him.

From the darkness, he could see their glint, a sickly flash of green within the black. He needed only three good steps, maybe four, and he could get through the door. Jev decided to chance it. The alternative was hoping that whatever was here would be kinder than Dione, and he doubted it. His legs tensed, and he ran.

The shadowy form chasing him was heavy but incredibly fast. It slammed past pieces of equipment that easily weighed ten times what he did with virtually no effort, the sharp blades and spikes doing nothing to slow it down. But despite its speed, Jev was too close to the door. He got it open, slamming it behind him just in time for a massive body to slam against it from the other side. The door held, making an alarming splintering sound. Jev knew it wouldn't survive another attack, but he was already running.

He was in a labyrinthine hallway, doors branching off in all directions, but he couldn't pause for long enough to open the door. He turned a corner just in time to hear the splintering crash of the door shattering behind him. He could feel his throat turn raw from the ragged breaths he was taking. Tears blurred his vision as his legs burned. He could see a form ahead of him, small, and indistinct at first. But as he continued to run, details resolved. The black robes and elegant blue-black wings contrasted against her dusky skin. She stood at the base of a set of drop-down stairs and was motioning for him to follow. He didn't have the option to hesitate. Heavy footfalls pounded down the hallway behind him, and they were growing closer. He dashed up the ladder as quickly as he could. With his last step, he felt it shudder beneath him, as the monstrous form lunged, shattering the ladder behind him. Now fully within the attic space, the door slammed shut behind him. He watched it warily for a few seconds until Manica's voice surprised him.

"You're safe for now. She can't enter another monster's territory."

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He looked up, and in the rafters he could see her perched, watching him, her taloned feet gripping the wood.

"And what about you? Are you safe?"

Though it was hard to tell for certain in the darkened attic, she seemed to laugh.

"Far, far from it. I can hear him in my head, Jev. I'm holding him back for now. I'm new here. I don't think he was expecting a will quite as strong as mine..." Her words trailed off, and she seemed to stare at something he couldn't see. She closed her eyes, as if to re-centre herself, only for them to flash open with a manic look. "FLAY YOUR SKIN AND EAT YOUR BONES!"

She sighed. The outburst seemed to pass. In a flurry of wings, she descended to the ground. Cautiously, Jev looked around for some sort of weapon. His eyes landed on a broom handle, not far from the entrance. She watched him grab it, approvingly.

"Good. I'm afraid I've brought you from the frying pan into the fire. I have control for now. It won't last. But you have to know."

Her tone was growing frantic, but Jev wasn't sure what she was trying to tell him. He wanted to go to her, to console her and offer his support, but the look in her eye made it apparent that Manica was barely holding on. Her wings were trembling, her forehead beaded with sweat from the effort it was taking for her to remain controlled.

"You're saying someone's responsible for this? Who? How? How do I get out?"

Her voice dropped low, almost reverent, as though she spoke the name of a god.

"The Adversary. He's watching you, Jev. Everything you do. He wants it. Your fear, your panic. It sustains him, feeds him. He's the one that's taken us; twisted us..." The sentence devolved into a shuddering laugh. Her body language shifted, looking at him seductively as she shrugged off her robe. "Oh.... The things I would do with you... Take your cock deep in my mouth AND BITE IT OFF! SWALLOW IT WHOLE!"

She lunged at him, halfheartedly, with a mocking laugh as he backed up. Jev levelled his impromptu weapon at her, unsure if he could strike. Manica was in control again, and she looked at him with eyes filled with pity.

"I need you to kill me, Jev. He's too strong. I can't hold him back. I'm going to hurt you, and I don't want to be used like that. Not by him..."

She kneeled, shivering with effort as she bowed her head in front of him. With the peak of her wing, she pointed to the base of her skull, her dark skin moist with perspiration. Even now, Jev could see the veins beneath her skin darkening, as though they had begun to pump old engine oil rather than blood.

"Strike me right here. As hard as you can." A ragged cough tore through her, forcing her to splay her wings to the floor for support. Two teeth clattered to the floor, accompanied by a gout of blood. She took a rattling breath, then continued, "It will snap my spinal cord from my brain. Death should be almost instant, and painless."

Jev raised the broom handle, but couldn't make himself bring it down. The calm, rational part of his brain was telling him it was the only way, but the rest didn't believe it. He looked around for rope or anything he could use to restrain her. Nothing was obvious, and he wasn't convinced it would hold her anyway. He thought about possibly snapping her legs or her wings to somehow delay her ability to come after him, but he had no idea how quickly she'd heal, especially with this "Adversary" putting his finger on the scale. Every solution he could think of turned to ash, especially when he considered the problem of hauling an angry and uncooperative monster through a house that was, apparently, designed to kill him. And yet the broom handle wouldn't swing.

"Manica, I can't..."

A sudden convulsion tore through Manica's body. The bones of her vertebrae shifted, their spinous process elongating until it tore through her flesh with the sound of dry branches tearing through soaked canvas; a brittle snap followed by the wet tear of surrender. She looked up at him, pleading, her dark eyes leaking tears.

"Jev. There's no escaping this. Even if you kill me, I will come back, and I will be changed, and I will try to kill you. Don't make me do it now. Please. If you care for me even a little, save me from this."

Her obsidian black eyes flared with red flame. Blood dripped down her face as new feathers tore through her skin. He could see that gleam, that spark of the beautiful, intelligent harpy woman that he knew, fade.

"WORTHLESS FUCK! CAN'T EVEN SATISFY A WOMAN WITH A BROOMSTICK!"

He flinched. Manica, his friend, the second person to help him when he got to Valsa was all but gone. What little bit of her that was left was holding the monster that she had become in place, trusting that he would fulfil her request. He gripped the broom handle tight, raising it over his head. The world dissolved into a blur from the tears filling his eyes as he tried to build his resolve. Manica's voice, barely more than a whisper, reached his ears.

"Thank you, Jev. Look for her. She can help you."

She screamed, flexing her wings, and Jev brought the broomstick down. It found its target. With a sickening crack, the broomstick snapped over Manica's neck. Immediately, her body dropped immobile, like a marionette with its strings cut. Jev realised he was screaming. He dropped the broomstick and recoiled from it, as though somehow it was responsible for what he had done. Stumbling backwards, nerveless and weak, he fell to the floor. Bracing himself between a bookshelf and a stub wall, he took a slow, shuddering breath, and let the world dissolve into tears.

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