The Shadow of the Accursed Executioner

Chapter 15: The Chosen

The wall from Jonsel's sector now gaped with spews of rubble over the cobblestone street, with the world beyond now peering down at the realm from eventual stretches of barren lands, hills and grand trees, the section of the collapsed wall, to now reveal the destruction of its slate and lime creation. As a peasant-cottage continues to burn through the night in flames from across a pale fountain, the public square of Jonsel's sector, which the fountain be surrounded by patches of luscious, green culms of grass and marigold flowers.
For yet no more were a patch of lively flowers but to be crushed by the knees of a woman, with her silk dress scattered over a patch of marigolds, her clothes torn from her body like to see beneath a doll.
For the man's face were inked of the many black sigils of the Pillagers which had looked to depict of stalks, roots, and along many other odd and complex shapes to simple markings across his strong, white face, then across his neck and over his stomach then down his broad thighs. As he had stripped till nothing, naked, and smiling with eyes possessed as he continues to wildly pound the woman's bottom like it was his final day in this world, the woman crying in silent agony with black tears streaming down her face and her hair pulled back by the pillager's hand, as he released a long and pleasured groan from his throat, then resuming to ravage her again with his endless endeavours for pleasure. As he too had held a curved dagger to her throat, to keep the violated woman in her place amongst the marigolds too.
For Jonsel sat upon his calves on the cobblestone, before the porch of his noble home, with his hands bound and along beside him be his son, a younger man, yet bound too. And along beside his son were a maid and a cobbler, and both bound too. As the pitted eyes of a large, black man with unique markings across his face and inked to his stomach, continues to cross his bound victims, with the pillager wearing leather sandals which wrapped his large calves in tight straps with a pair of grey hide, a sturdy undergarment wrapped around his waist and along over a warm quilt of armoured padding. For yet too between the bounded and the pillager had sat watch from the eyes of a tall, black hound, watching into their downed faces with stoic obedience.
The pillager loomed, pacing his steps across the cobblestone and back the other way, as he rests a large axe over his shoulder and strapped with black hatchets to the sides of his waist. But now the pillager loomed before Jonsel in his place, as the hound continues to gaze into the eyes of the cobbler.
The pillager raised his left hand with a beckon for Jonsel to stand.
"Up." He said, etching a subtle command.
For the Pillager's voice were deep and foreign of the traveller men from south of the world beyond the realm, but raised through the Pillagers' way by the unruly men and women of the east.
As Jonsel rose, obeying the pillager's command. But Jonsel's face were stoic and unpleased yet beneath truly, to agonise within a thought of terror toward the pillager as he continues to stare into his eyes with a deathly stare.
"Today..." He began, "will be the day that the home of your inside world shall collapse." He said.
Yet, for a man looming like a brute of terror, a pillager of ink, rape and plunder, had spoke well and sounded even wise.
"We will kill your past." He continued, menacing, the hound holding its gaze toward the frightened cobbler. "We will kill your future." He added, eyeing down at Jonsel's son for a moment. "And we will fill the wombs of your women...to take back the countless people that you have slaughtered among us. Garsh'ii!" He called. "...Only one!"
"...!"
For the hound then approaches up to the face of the cobbler, as it brought its long nose to his eyes and now beginning to sniff his face.
"N-No..." He begged. "No, PLEASE-!"
The hound shot its jaws into the throat of the cobbler. For now the maiden began to scream with a piercing shrill, as the hound continues to ravage his gullet, the cobbler screaming-madly in agony along the earth of the cobblestone until he had went silent from the maul.
Now the maiden shattered into tears as layers of meat and skin continue to rip away from the cobbler's spurting throat, now red across her fangs.
Then eventually the hound had eaten the whole neck of the cobbler, his neck now showing only of bone along his peaceful eyes below the scarred maiden.
"Please! Mercy!" Cried Jonsel's son, tilting his head with a gradual drop into the face of the cobblestone, whining and cowering within fear for his own life. "I'm sorry! -Sorry for whatever were the things we did! Just please... please don't kill me! I'm ever sorry for it all! ... ... Ugh! Ughh...! ...Uuughh-haaaagh haaaaaagh..." He went on, weeping beside his father, his forehead now as low as to touch the cobblestones for plea.
As now the hound begins to eat into the sockets of the cobbler's eyes.
"I'm not." Jonsel admitted, with a low voice, yet pride brimming, fearless to attune. "I will not weep nor beg before these raiding barbarians-"
"Father, please!-"
"Quiet boy!" Jonsel continued, scolding his son, his voice slurring for his father to bear silence. "My family pledged to follow King Aragenn and his sons and daughters then their sons and daughters and theirs after. To follow his vision of the old rule. Away from the rest of you savage pillocks!" He said, his son weeping and murmuring beside his father's bitterness.
But the pillager said nothing, but to remain as a loom of fear. Yet now to approach his begging son, the pillager now grabbing him by the root of his brown hair then stared into his gay eyes.
"Torturous devils, is what you are. Nothing else." Expressed Jonsel, adding to his tongue.
But then the pillager had struck his son across the cheek with a hard blow. Dazed from a single strike, his son fell into a whirl of still.
Then the pillager had struck again, and again.
"NO!!!" Screamed Jonsel, then too to quickly beg for his son's life as the pillager continues to clobber him against the cobblestone, his face now dumb and bloodied to the brim.
But now Jonsel's son lays lifeless with his eyes peered off toward a sight beyond. As the pillager had eventually ceased his strikes.
"No..." Jonsel wobbled, "cowards..." He agonised, mourning in horror for his son. "You fucking cowards!!" He cursed. "...Devils... Vile cunts...!" He added, sobbing for the loss of his own son, as the pillager turns back to face Jonsel.
"Your son is weak." He said, the pillager then shot his hand into Jonsel's throat, as he began to squeeze his gullet. "Land is whom be among all men and women of this world." He declared. "But the inside world has weakened you, and has betrayed the lands of this world from becoming the man you were meant to be. That is why your son lays dead."
The pillager spoke, glaring into his face. Yet for Jonsel's mouth had begun to bloat.
Bloat and to stare back only with hate as he continues to fill his mouth.
Then, to spit a slag of saliva, it, as much as a gush of thick and foul-smelling water into the pillager's face.
The pillager looked away with a flinch, turning away with Jonsel's slags as they continue to drip along his face. Then he wiped his face of the stink with his right arm yet, as Jonsel shot another gush of spit into the side of his face, with speckles of saliva across his ear and more to wet and stink his skin.
Then the pillager balled his right hand in swift reply then, then to strike him between the eyes in a fume of hidden anger. As then the pillager had stepped away and along so to appear of another pillager, a tall, broad woman with a red bow, had replaced his task to subdue Jonsel in his place as he had went to the fountain and to cleanse his face.
The woman pressed her left sandal into Jonsel's throat, with her leather sandals rising with tight strips to her knees with rouse, as she continues to hold the draw of an arrow between Jonsel's eyes. For the woman glowed of a fair tone, bearing only a thick skirt of armoured paddings to her lower thighs and a filled quiver around her waist. As her dark hair were heavy of braids with firm breasts for a sight to stare longly at her top-naked body, with a lean stomach of inked spirals and of various shapes and sigils to her left face.
But now the pillager had return from his cleanse by the fountain, the woman now releasing the pressure of her foot against Jonsel's throat, the large, black pillager now dropping onto Jonsel's stomach, locking him in place on the ground as he strikes him between the eyes once more and along with the back of his skull to hit against the cobblestones too, as his face turned dumb and to be dazed like his son. As the pillager's body were a tower of muscle, his large thighs as hard as stones pressed against the cage of his ribs. He then unbounded Jonsel's arms then raised the head of his axe before his eyes, but now to switch the head of his axe, to no longer aim with the blade but of its blunt, steel head, protruding like a hammer.
"No...! NOOO!!!! AAAAAARGGHHH!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAARRGHH!!!!"
The pillager hammered into each of Jonsel's fingers, crushing each one then his thumb as he screamed possessed-and squirming madly as his face rattles in agony. For the pillager did not feel joy from his crunched bones as he hammered into his wrist then his arm, but to bear the sight of disappointment in his stern eyes and along Jonsel's shrills as his throat begins to ripple in agony.
Jonsel, a disappointment, he thought, from the weakening of a screaming man from within the walls of the realm.
The inside world.
Preventing the men and women of the realm to become one amongst the truth of themselves, they thought.
They believed.
As now the woman with firm, peak tits and a red bow, had aimed directly toward the maiden, whom continues to gasp in horror with tears streaming down her face from Jonsel's screams and beside the cobbler's face, which was now the face of a red skull.
For the violating pillager had left the raped woman in the marigolds with her wrists bound against her ankles with a spread, then approaching toward the maiden with the loom of his cock and a grotesque smirk, as he brought his dagger to the skin of the maiden's neck.
"You will stand." He spoke, a smug tone within his voice, his eyes yourning to see. "Get up." He ordered, desiring, an eager want for her body, as the maiden now obeys. "Now place your feet together." He asked, yet with threat to his voice. "Because beneath, this one...is beautiful." He said, honouring her.
For he tucked his blade into the silk of the maiden's black dress, latching against the top, the rim of her dress with the curve of his dagger. Then now to tear through the layers of her dress. As now a white glow of wide hips and thick breasts had unveil before his pleased eyes.
"Wait." The woman said, the pillager now approaching beside the maiden to feel her stomach.
Now to caress against her stomach, examining her naked body like she were a doll, an object, then circling around to stand behind her as she peels down her dress from her broad shoulders and which to bear nothing but tatters to her ankles.
As the pillager woman had appeared back beside her, to then raise her hand from the touches of her stomach, as she continues to stare along her body.
"This woman." She examined, her face etched of certainty, staring down between her thighs then up at the teats of her breasts. "This woman bears a child." She said, a deep certainty etched her voice.
Yet the raping pillager did not speak, but to turn away. To instead turn back to the fountain and to conceal his waist and to examine his weapons. As the pillager woman did not glance, with not even a sight into the eyes of the deprived maiden, as now she raised her bow with an arrow to aim between her eyes.
"Lay down." She demanded.
And the maiden obeyed, afraid, quivering-shivering weak. Gasping within such horror that she had begun to sound as if she were having a moanful joy.
To obey. To lay beside Jonsel. Now dead along the cobblestone with his son and the face-eaten cobbler.
For the black pillager then loomed over the maiden's body which had brought the black hound into a snap of sudden aggression.
"Garsh'ii..." He called to her. His voice had touched the heart of his hound and her eyes as she responds with a whine.
For the pillager woman placed her left sandal against the maiden's back, to keep her in place, as she continues to hold the draw of an arrow to her head. For which the naked maiden continued to weep on her stomach over the cobblestones amongst the looming pillagers.
Looming.
Then now to hear the noise of a sharp clang against the ground from the blade of his axe.
As now the maiden shot her eyes to see to her severed hand in horror as blood gushed from her wrist over the cobblestones, as she stares into the innards of her wrist with a scream. Then along with the pillager woman, she, had then fired into her opposing arm.
Then the black pillager sliced through the wrist of her opposing arm too.
Blood spurted from her wrists, she screamed in agony and in the nude, too weak to raise a single arm and one pierced by an arrow as her blood continues to paint the cobblestone.
"Your blood pours." He said. "Your blood...draining away from the creation of an untrue child, from the rest of the untrue mothers of the inside world." He expressed. "For we will return our children from the silver killers, the ones which have slaughtered the true men and women of this world..."
"The lands of this world..." Said the pillager woman. "Land is whom be among all men and women of this world." She declared.
As now the maiden had died, with her skin turned pale, silent, and laid across the cobblestone like a blood-soaked angel bearing two plucked hands, as then the black pillager begins to slice through the sides of the maiden's stomach with his axe and the others watching sternly.
As eventually he had marked the maiden's whole stomach of deep cuts, with now the deep cuts to etch of a display like an inscription of a gushing, red ring, as the pillager begins to carve out all the guts beneath the breasts. And so to search for the womb, to search through the innards of the slaughter, the mutilation, the dead, to search for the finding, for an untrue child.
For yet as once more, the screeches of a growl, had now quaked through the earth of the realm from a distant rumble, through a trail of crushed homes from Jonsel's sector, as the trail left by the beast had continued onward toward the northern sectors of the realm by the sieged east wall.