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"Wakey, wakey, pup."
Sandra groaned, the back of her head felt ablaze, and whoever's voice just called her pup was not familiar to her. She tried to sit up, only to be met with resistance before gaining so much as a centimeter. The ropes binding her to a wooden table had been very carefully placed, giving no room to use her claws to get free. With another squirm, all she got was the ropes digging into her well-padded figure and a manic chuckle out of the unknown voice. The thought occurred to her that the last thing she remembered was heading home with Jonathan, another long night on patrol with no sign of illicit activity to halt come and gone.
A more masculine groan, not unlike hers otherwise, drew her attention to a second table, with her lover tied down atop it. The person who had taken them had obviously gone after her first, her own clothes perfectly intact while most of Jonathan's shirt, vest and pants were shredded or incinerated from the ensuing struggle. Under other circumstances, she wouldn't have minded the view, or the fact he was tied down. But at the moment, it had her well and truly scared.
"Oh good, both patients are awake!" Both of them immediately strained to see who was speaking, a truly bizarre sight stepping out from the shadows. The thing looked like poorly sewn together burlap and black cloth, fashioned abysmally into a crude outfit and then tossed on an unhealthily thin figure. His stride was with confidence as he made his way between the two tables, a cart following in his wake, carrying an assortment of tools not unlike what could be found in a surgical theatre. "Now then, what could a couple such as yourselves have been doing, skulking about in the dark of the night, hm?"
"Not much." Jonathan's tone already told Sandra that whatever he was going to say was in utter sarcasm, "Just looking to be abducted by living ragdolls. Seems to have worked completely in our favor."
"Young man, I'd advise a little tact." One of the abductor's hands gripped the fox-boy's jaw, bony fingers pressing in painfully while the other hand moved a tray of implements next to his head. "Just bear in mind that I'm not adverse to cutting out tongues. And sedatives are always optional."
"Patrol."
"Come again?" Patchwork let go of Jonathan's jaw as Sandra spoke up, turning his attention to her. She shuddered a bit, unable to read his expression behind his disturbing mask.
"We were on patrol as our way of repaying Bulk." A sudden invasion of Sandra's spaced made her recoil slightly, a subdued scent of blood hitting her as the strange man put himself almost within biting distance. She could hear distinct sniffing noises while he cocked his head at her.
"Ah, genetic modding. Fun stuff. Never tried it before myself. Really should one of these days." The man dressed in rags distanced from her with that, disappearing back into the shadows. His re-emergence brought the cloying, coppery scent back several times stronger. A hand covered Sandra's mouth before she could scream at the sight. Their captor had removed his mask, exposing what little was left that could be called a face. Icy blue eyes stood in stark contrast to the skinless visage, a few loose strands of light hair left despite all else being missing. The ghoulish man dug his fingers into Sandra's soft cheeks, forcing her to look up. Jonathan thrashed in his bindings as he heard her whimpering, unable to see just what the madman was doing.
"Hm. Distinctly different from human. Sweeter, too. Obvious reasons aside, I may have to dabble to see if there are any other factors."
"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER, YOU FREAK!" Despite his outburst, Jonathan was still firmly stuck on the table, drawing a chuckle from a leering grin.
"If it makes you feel any better, you smell absolutely repulsive, boy." Little could be done on Jonathan's part to escape as the mutilated face drew close and took a small bite from his arm, grimacing as he did. "Taste that way, too. Although if it's any consolation, since I can smell that you aren't a genetic experiment, I'd still dissect you to see just what you are. The tender steak over there, though? No promises. Annnd that reminds me that I forgot my preservatives. BRB, my morsels."
"Jonathan? Are you okay?" Sandra worked up the courage to speak only after their insane keeper had left, doors shutting behind him.
"He fucking bit me!" Fire raced up Jonathan's body, searing the ropes away and scorching the table into smoldering ash. Two swipes down the length of Sandra's table had her freed and hugging her lover tightly, care taken to avoid the bitten arm. "I don't know who this guy is, but we need to deal with him. Now. See if you can call Bulk. We'll need a heavier hitter than what either of us can manage."
---
"Ready, Sandra?"
"We're testing a crazy idea that we've never done before to try and beat a psycho who kicked our asses."
Their call for assistance had been made, but they couldn't leave yet. Sandra was now back on the table, laying on her front, still trying to wrap her head around how insane the idea was. The fiery aura that so frequently engulfed Jonathan's hands now consumed his face. He lowered himself, and stretched his jaws impossibly wide. The fire wrapped itself around Sandra's feet, while spreading lower through Jonathan to make room. Progress was slow, the stretching circle of his mouth taking its time trying to encircle Sandra's plush frame. At the very crest of her burgeoning stomach, however, it became evident that they needed to move faster.
Loudspeakers installed into the factory blared to life, emitting a distorted mess that could only be described as "Tiptoe through the Tulips" taken to Hell and back. As Jonathan reached his lovers' shoulders, Patchwork's approach could be heard by his demented whistling along to the tune. Finally, the entirety of Jonathan's form was dispersed into a flame-like aura around Sandra, just as the whistling upgraded to outright singing.
"And if I kiss you, in the garden, in the moonlight, will you follow me, and tiptoe, through the tulips with me~?" In the silhouette of the door stood Patchwork, a merry little jig in his step until he saw Sandra standing, a faint orange aura about her. There was a loud cracking noise as he cracked his neck sharply, before speaking up. "Oh, aren't you being a naughty girl. How about you and your boyfriend get back on your tables, hm?"
Her eyes seemed to light up in a piercing glower, and she charged with all her pent-up fury ready to end the evil thing before her. She aimed a backhanded swipe at his torso, but just before contact, he evaded it by backpedaling, tossing the supplies he'd gotten off to the side. Sandra followed her failed attack up with a leap, bringing her right arm down with fiery claws out, extending beyond herself. Once more, the nightmarish man dodged, leaning back from the knees while one arm bent farther than should've been natural to catch on the loose debris of the old building. Her left claw was about to be brought down now that he had virtually no option to further elude her strikes. But rather than dodge, he struck faster, his placed arm twisting back to a normal position while the opposite leg swung around in a mighty kick to Sandra's side.
A resounding crack and biting pain told the wolf-girl that he'd broken some of her ribs at the very least, while she went tumbling towards an old piece of machinery. A clothed hand lifted her by the neck, slamming her on to a conveyor belt before the other joined to begin choking the life from her. The grip was quickly released as the smell of burning fabric and flesh filled her nose, Patchwork backing away as he extinguished his ruined gloves.
"Shame that won't do the cooking itself. It would do wonders for saving me supplies." A flick of the wrists brought a pair of knives to his charred hands, both raising overhead to be flung at the recovering couple.
A shadow dropped from above before they reached their intended target, caught and discarded as the new arrival revealed itself. A ragged half-cape only barely concealed dark body armor covering a figure just shy of Sandra's own. Her, for the ample padding certainly lent itself to the female form, face was hidden under something reminiscent of a gas mask, expression just as unreadable as the adversaries.
Without further ceremony, the shady figure charged Patchwork, his strategy of eluding with improbable dodging working only briefly before the fight escalated to a speed that Sandra couldn't even follow. Jonathan took the moment to disengage himself from her, wisps moving away to reform as himself as he was when Sandra woke up. A crash from their left drew their attention, the ragdoll of a man thrown into the workings of one particularly large machine while the couple's rescuer kept him pinned there.
"Turn it on!" The single instruction was followed without hesitation, a lever thrown, the gear grinding into motion while taking the cannibal with them. The moment he was well and truly stuck, the machine was shut down.
"Both of you are well?" The black-clad heroine asked, keeping a close eye on the imprisoned.
"Physically. Highly disturbed, though." Jonathan gripped his arm, a phantom of the pain from the bite lingering. "Please tell me this guy is not the normal fare around here, miss..."
"Phantom." The reply was curt, and her tone suggested that she didn't care for them to stick around. "And certainly not. Most villains around here seem to have more interest in fattening their victims, not eating them."
"Oh, that's lovely."
Hope you enjoyed, everyone. Just a story I wrote up after I made the picture.
Jonathan, Sandra and Patchwork are mine.
Phat Phantom belongs to Aerial-Rave over on DA
Sandra groaned, the back of her head felt ablaze, and whoever's voice just called her pup was not familiar to her. She tried to sit up, only to be met with resistance before gaining so much as a centimeter. The ropes binding her to a wooden table had been very carefully placed, giving no room to use her claws to get free. With another squirm, all she got was the ropes digging into her well-padded figure and a manic chuckle out of the unknown voice. The thought occurred to her that the last thing she remembered was heading home with Jonathan, another long night on patrol with no sign of illicit activity to halt come and gone.
A more masculine groan, not unlike hers otherwise, drew her attention to a second table, with her lover tied down atop it. The person who had taken them had obviously gone after her first, her own clothes perfectly intact while most of Jonathan's shirt, vest and pants were shredded or incinerated from the ensuing struggle. Under other circumstances, she wouldn't have minded the view, or the fact he was tied down. But at the moment, it had her well and truly scared.
"Oh good, both patients are awake!" Both of them immediately strained to see who was speaking, a truly bizarre sight stepping out from the shadows. The thing looked like poorly sewn together burlap and black cloth, fashioned abysmally into a crude outfit and then tossed on an unhealthily thin figure. His stride was with confidence as he made his way between the two tables, a cart following in his wake, carrying an assortment of tools not unlike what could be found in a surgical theatre. "Now then, what could a couple such as yourselves have been doing, skulking about in the dark of the night, hm?"
"Not much." Jonathan's tone already told Sandra that whatever he was going to say was in utter sarcasm, "Just looking to be abducted by living ragdolls. Seems to have worked completely in our favor."
"Young man, I'd advise a little tact." One of the abductor's hands gripped the fox-boy's jaw, bony fingers pressing in painfully while the other hand moved a tray of implements next to his head. "Just bear in mind that I'm not adverse to cutting out tongues. And sedatives are always optional."
"Patrol."
"Come again?" Patchwork let go of Jonathan's jaw as Sandra spoke up, turning his attention to her. She shuddered a bit, unable to read his expression behind his disturbing mask.
"We were on patrol as our way of repaying Bulk." A sudden invasion of Sandra's spaced made her recoil slightly, a subdued scent of blood hitting her as the strange man put himself almost within biting distance. She could hear distinct sniffing noises while he cocked his head at her.
"Ah, genetic modding. Fun stuff. Never tried it before myself. Really should one of these days." The man dressed in rags distanced from her with that, disappearing back into the shadows. His re-emergence brought the cloying, coppery scent back several times stronger. A hand covered Sandra's mouth before she could scream at the sight. Their captor had removed his mask, exposing what little was left that could be called a face. Icy blue eyes stood in stark contrast to the skinless visage, a few loose strands of light hair left despite all else being missing. The ghoulish man dug his fingers into Sandra's soft cheeks, forcing her to look up. Jonathan thrashed in his bindings as he heard her whimpering, unable to see just what the madman was doing.
"Hm. Distinctly different from human. Sweeter, too. Obvious reasons aside, I may have to dabble to see if there are any other factors."
"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER, YOU FREAK!" Despite his outburst, Jonathan was still firmly stuck on the table, drawing a chuckle from a leering grin.
"If it makes you feel any better, you smell absolutely repulsive, boy." Little could be done on Jonathan's part to escape as the mutilated face drew close and took a small bite from his arm, grimacing as he did. "Taste that way, too. Although if it's any consolation, since I can smell that you aren't a genetic experiment, I'd still dissect you to see just what you are. The tender steak over there, though? No promises. Annnd that reminds me that I forgot my preservatives. BRB, my morsels."
"Jonathan? Are you okay?" Sandra worked up the courage to speak only after their insane keeper had left, doors shutting behind him.
"He fucking bit me!" Fire raced up Jonathan's body, searing the ropes away and scorching the table into smoldering ash. Two swipes down the length of Sandra's table had her freed and hugging her lover tightly, care taken to avoid the bitten arm. "I don't know who this guy is, but we need to deal with him. Now. See if you can call Bulk. We'll need a heavier hitter than what either of us can manage."
---
"Ready, Sandra?"
"We're testing a crazy idea that we've never done before to try and beat a psycho who kicked our asses."
Their call for assistance had been made, but they couldn't leave yet. Sandra was now back on the table, laying on her front, still trying to wrap her head around how insane the idea was. The fiery aura that so frequently engulfed Jonathan's hands now consumed his face. He lowered himself, and stretched his jaws impossibly wide. The fire wrapped itself around Sandra's feet, while spreading lower through Jonathan to make room. Progress was slow, the stretching circle of his mouth taking its time trying to encircle Sandra's plush frame. At the very crest of her burgeoning stomach, however, it became evident that they needed to move faster.
Loudspeakers installed into the factory blared to life, emitting a distorted mess that could only be described as "Tiptoe through the Tulips" taken to Hell and back. As Jonathan reached his lovers' shoulders, Patchwork's approach could be heard by his demented whistling along to the tune. Finally, the entirety of Jonathan's form was dispersed into a flame-like aura around Sandra, just as the whistling upgraded to outright singing.
"And if I kiss you, in the garden, in the moonlight, will you follow me, and tiptoe, through the tulips with me~?" In the silhouette of the door stood Patchwork, a merry little jig in his step until he saw Sandra standing, a faint orange aura about her. There was a loud cracking noise as he cracked his neck sharply, before speaking up. "Oh, aren't you being a naughty girl. How about you and your boyfriend get back on your tables, hm?"
Her eyes seemed to light up in a piercing glower, and she charged with all her pent-up fury ready to end the evil thing before her. She aimed a backhanded swipe at his torso, but just before contact, he evaded it by backpedaling, tossing the supplies he'd gotten off to the side. Sandra followed her failed attack up with a leap, bringing her right arm down with fiery claws out, extending beyond herself. Once more, the nightmarish man dodged, leaning back from the knees while one arm bent farther than should've been natural to catch on the loose debris of the old building. Her left claw was about to be brought down now that he had virtually no option to further elude her strikes. But rather than dodge, he struck faster, his placed arm twisting back to a normal position while the opposite leg swung around in a mighty kick to Sandra's side.
A resounding crack and biting pain told the wolf-girl that he'd broken some of her ribs at the very least, while she went tumbling towards an old piece of machinery. A clothed hand lifted her by the neck, slamming her on to a conveyor belt before the other joined to begin choking the life from her. The grip was quickly released as the smell of burning fabric and flesh filled her nose, Patchwork backing away as he extinguished his ruined gloves.
"Shame that won't do the cooking itself. It would do wonders for saving me supplies." A flick of the wrists brought a pair of knives to his charred hands, both raising overhead to be flung at the recovering couple.
A shadow dropped from above before they reached their intended target, caught and discarded as the new arrival revealed itself. A ragged half-cape only barely concealed dark body armor covering a figure just shy of Sandra's own. Her, for the ample padding certainly lent itself to the female form, face was hidden under something reminiscent of a gas mask, expression just as unreadable as the adversaries.
Without further ceremony, the shady figure charged Patchwork, his strategy of eluding with improbable dodging working only briefly before the fight escalated to a speed that Sandra couldn't even follow. Jonathan took the moment to disengage himself from her, wisps moving away to reform as himself as he was when Sandra woke up. A crash from their left drew their attention, the ragdoll of a man thrown into the workings of one particularly large machine while the couple's rescuer kept him pinned there.
"Turn it on!" The single instruction was followed without hesitation, a lever thrown, the gear grinding into motion while taking the cannibal with them. The moment he was well and truly stuck, the machine was shut down.
"Both of you are well?" The black-clad heroine asked, keeping a close eye on the imprisoned.
"Physically. Highly disturbed, though." Jonathan gripped his arm, a phantom of the pain from the bite lingering. "Please tell me this guy is not the normal fare around here, miss..."
"Phantom." The reply was curt, and her tone suggested that she didn't care for them to stick around. "And certainly not. Most villains around here seem to have more interest in fattening their victims, not eating them."
"Oh, that's lovely."
Hope you enjoyed, everyone. Just a story I wrote up after I made the picture.
Jonathan, Sandra and Patchwork are mine.
Phat Phantom belongs to Aerial-Rave over on DA
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1024 x 1024px
File Size 533.5 kB
Comments