You put the key in your pocket and turn to face the blonde, "You might not want to watch this." then you take a step toward the captive witch. Her eyes widen and she falls back against the wall.
Natahly Beach, formerly Anna Crossford, age 18. She was the youngest daughter of the wealthy Crossford family, and the most spoiled. At 12 she became a wild child, going out late at night, vandalzing, smoking things, and later, at 15, she fell in with a group of young druids who practiced earth magic. One thing lead to another and, after sacrificing the lives of three of her friends and making off with a vast piece of the family fortune, she gave herself over to the devil and to black magic. She must have thought she was a hot piece of shit, but now look at her; naked, scared and about to die in a prison somewhere in the woods.
You do feel bad for her, as you watch her literally shit on the floor, her bowls disobeying her and yielding to fear, but then again there's no forgiving what she tried to make you do, no matter how pathetic she is murder is still murder.
You walk over to her and she hyperventalates through her nose.
You decide cutting or strangling would be too good for her, so you take off you gauntlets and pound her one in the cheek, suddenly, hard and fast. She mews and shuts her eyes and lets the tears fall.
Next you sweep her shaking legs out from under her and let her fall on her ass, in her own pee and scat.
"I want to know where Mary is." you say, grabbing her throat in your pincer grip, then you knee her hard between the legs. She falls and rolls around and moans.
You stand her up against the wall again. Her knees are shaking and she can barely stand. You cup your left hand into a claw and grab her right breast, without thinking. You feel the erect nipple against your palm and you squeeze. She blushes.
You find yourself kneeling over and grabbing at her bruised pussy, warm and wet. You grasp one of her vaginal hairs between your two fingers, then you pluck. She squeals.
She squeals for a while and seems like she's trying to talk, so, after thinking about it, you pull off her gag.
"The sacrifice chamber in the souther hall!" she spouts, spitting, "They took a kidnapped woman there, I think she might be your woman!"
You take mental note of this information and give her a moment to breath.
"I gave you everything you wanted and I can't hurt anyone . . . please . . . "
You think about slicing her head off with your sword here, but that would be too good for her. You already decided that she deserves to be beaten to death.
You throw her against the bars of the prison then charge in, aiming your fists at her breasts. They are soft and bouncy and your fists sink in like you're punching foam, stopping against her bones. You pummle them until they are bruised and bloody and she's gasping and drooling, then you deliver three sucessive knees to her vag, drawing squirts of blood. You slam her head against the bars, then sock her in the pretty face, blackineing her eye and bloodying her lip. She can't seem to speak anymore. She's in a daze.
The next volley goes to her belly, mostly , white and untouched, but you punch hard, sinking into her white canvas and battering her as she squirms and writhes like a snake.
You ran your hands across your handywork, up her thighs, across her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and to her face. You feel yourself becoming aroused, so you know you need to finish this.
Another ten punches to her ribs, breaking them, and she spits up a mouthful of blood.
"Please . . ."
Then you give her another in the woman parts, for having the nerve to sexually excite you. She doubles over and looks up at you, with her one good eye, gasping for air, her nose broken and her mouth dripping blood. Time for the finisher.
You pull back as far as you can, then pound her, full strength, right in the nose. Teeth fly out and she drops hard to the ground. She convulses, arking her back and thrusting her stomach in the air, then she squeals and goes still.
You check her breathing. It has stopped.
Natahly Beach is dead. You take a moment to drink in the sight of her naked corpse before moving on.
"Thank you for saving me," says the blonde once you set her free.
"You aren't safe yet." you say casually, scoping out the hallway once you get out, "Not until we get you out of here."
There doesn't appear to be anyone out in the hall. You walk long enough to reach a crossroads, and now you have a choice to make; will you A, rush to save Mary before it's too late or B, get this other girl to safety first?
