DsGSilver

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DsGSilver last won the day on March 1 2017

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About DsGSilver

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  1. DsGSilver

    Riley and Lev: Dystopia 7

    Oooh, this was even better than I thought it'd be. Well done!
  2. DsGSilver

    Journey to Arnwick

    I usually have a general idea of where the overall story arc is headed, but otherwise it's mostly just written on the fly. Usually, I know when a character will be introduced and what big event will happen, but the rest I just improvise. Also, thanks! That means a lot.
  3. DsGSilver

    Wet in the Wastelands II

    A
  4. DsGSilver

    Journey to Arnwick

    Sorry it's a little bit late. Happy birthday! I think this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, and it might have a little less omo content, but it's leading into a big chapter. Given the support it received last time, there is a bit of male omo (wetting and messing), but it's still mostly female. And, in case anyone was wondering, the male character featured here likely will not become a permanent member of the cast. Tabitha will, though. Hope you all enjoy! --------------------------------------------------------------------- Through her eyes, it watched. Through her ears, it listened. Through her hands, it felt. She had seen it. Laid her eyes upon it, and not perished. She, sword held high, challenged and vanquished the great beast it had set upon her. She had seen it, and yet, the madness did not take root immediately. Her heart did not burst, as so many others had. But the demon could sense it, the festering seed had been planted inside of her mind, and soon its walls would collapse, and the demon could feed on her insanity. It was perfectly content to feast slowly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tabitha jolted awake, panting heavily. Sweat covered her body, despite the chill of the room. Her rest had been plagued with nightmares that shook her to her core. Nightmares were common among the more junior practitioners of witch hunting, but she had not been so unfortunate as to suffer from them for many years, now. And even so, this one was… different. Nondescript. That was the only she could think to describe it. Voices just at the edge of hearing, and flickers of movement just at the ends of her vision. The harder she listened and stared, the less comprehensible the things around her became. It was… nothing. There were no terrifying monsters; no accusatory shouts; no bad memories. Just… things too far away to be seen or heard. So why did it fill her with so much anxiety and terror? Her heart beat both fast and erratic, feeling as though, at any moment, it could beat so rapidly as to burst through her ribs, or to simply stop beating entirely. She steadied her breathing, rubbed her temples, closed her eyes and took as deep a breath as she could, until her body had settled down. Once her senses had fully returned, she wondered to herself just how much she had pissed the bed during the nightmare. After the events of the previous night, she had finally decided to trade her clothes out and have hers be washed. The townspeople were more than happy to supply her with a (mostly) clean ensemble in the meantime, although it turned out to be a struggle to find clean trousers amongst the townspeople. Doubly so for panties. Tabitha threw the blanket aside, preparing for the worst. While her bladder had, indeed, emptied its contents into her white underwear, she was pleasantly surprised to see that her wetting during the battle had left her with very little urine to stain her new panties. Well, as “pleasantly surprised” as one can be to recall such a thing. The fabric around her groin was wet, but the stain did not spread much further. As relieved as she was not to have a total accident on her hands, she cringed, knowing that she would stuck in these panties for the rest of the day. Deciding that the best course of action was to ignore the dampened state of her underwear, she rose from her bed, and got dressed. She had elected to only borrow panties and trousers from the villagers, not wishing to take too much of their already dwindling supplies. Her hat, coat, and doublet all remained the same, but now black pants adorned her legs. She remembered a lecture her old mentor had given her, half-joking and half-serious, about how witch hunters always wore black trousers to hide their accidents. Once she was dressed and had her equipment, she left the inn, in which the owner was allowing her to stay, free of charge; as thanks for her efforts in defending them. Every step was courteous enough to remind her of the wetness between her legs, but she had long since learned not to let such discomfort show. The villagers were rebuilding and preparing for the next onslaught as best they could, but resources, morale, and, most importantly, time were all on short supply. Even with her there, they could only withstand one or two more of these attacks. None, if that strange demon reappeared. A spike of panic shot through her as she recalled the winged demon. The sudden fear, the way it caused her body to falter, Tabitha was certain it was unnatural. Perhaps some manner of cognitohazard, a curse that harms or kills simply by observing, or even remembering the thing carrying it. But only a monstrously powerful demon would be able to create such a curse. And demons were not her prey. Tabitha’s vocation had always been witch hunting. Always would be. In all her life, the only type of cognitohazard she’d ever seen was a witch’s amulet that paralyzed any who looked upon the wearer. But it was a weak curse, and of all her peers, Tabitha was easily the most skilled at repelling curses, hexes, and spells. With a quick dispel, the amulet’s effect was nullified on her, and she was able to slay the witch. Conversely, James and Madeleine, her partners, were struck by the curse, and both completely motionless for a full day. By the time they were free, both of them had been unable to keep their hold on their bladder or bowels, and both needed a change of pants. They received no small amount of teasing from Tabitha about it. Indeed, she was well and truly out of her depth, here. She would need someone versed in demon killing to stand a chance. “Emily!” Came a familiar, worried voice. Emily’s mother was again searching for her lost daughter. Though now, Tabitha shared in the mother’s worry. Had Emily still not returned? That was bad. The village only had one tracker, the bowman who was pounced by a crawler, and Tabitha had already sent him to look for the girl. If she truly was still in the wilderness during the attack… God help her. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hazel, Alma, and Eliza were all visibly on edge as they approached the village. A broken sign on the outskirts bore the name “Hadens-” the rest of the name was visible on a piece of the sign that had been broken off, “-brook”. The village itself was, to put it generously, in shambles. Several buildings were heavily damaged, some were even completely destroyed. The group walked further in, fully entering the town, and its sorry state was made clear for them. Near to half the town was in absolute ruins. Those ruins were utterly saturated in old, drying blood, and tatters of clothes, discarded weapons, and other detritus littered the area. Each of them tensed when the first person came into view. None of them had forgotten the last “friendly face” they met. Hazel felt an odd sort of assurance from this place. It was making no attempt to hide its disrepair and ruin. There was no attempt to deceive them. As odd as it was to be happy that half of the village you were visiting had been reduced to rubble, Hazel couldn’t help but breathe a bit easier. “Pardon me...” Came a woman’s voice, catching each of them off guard. They each whirled around to see a woman, dressed much like Alma, in the garb of a hunter, approaching them. Though she wasn’t showing any hostility, the stranger very clearly had her hand resting on her sheathed sword, clearly as anxious about this meeting as they were. “My name is Tabitha. I’ve been protecting this place.” She ran her eyes over them, carefully studying each of them. She stopped when she reached Eliza, and glared at her sharply. “May I ask, are you the ones responsible for killing the shapeshifter that had been haunting the road?” “We are,” Alma answered, “This one, specifically,” she pointed to Eliza. She took a moment to consider this, before replying “Well done,” Tabitha continued to glare at Eliza, and Hazel could tell that Eliza was shrinking away under her gaze. “So...” Hazel began, “we were told that your village was being attacked?” “What gave it away?” Tabitha said with a chuckle, motioning to the ruins around her. “Yes. Hadensbrook has been besieged by the undead every night for some time, now.” “Well, Tabitha, we’re here to help however we can,” Alma said. Tabitha looked sadly at Alma’s broken arm, clearly upset that her reinforcements were not as formidable as she’d hoped. She closed her eyes and nodded, “Thank you. Please follow me, we have a few things to go over.” She led them towards what appeared to be a town hall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “An incredibly powerful demon is behind the attacks, you say?” Alma intoned. Hazel noticed that at almost every mention of the winged demon, Tabitha seemed to shudder slightly. “Y-yes. Whatever it was, it was the the most powerful creature I’ve ever seen...” Another shudder. “Alma,” Hazel looked to her friend, and could see in her eyes that Alma was having the same thought as her, “Do you think it could be the same one that’s destroyed Arnwick?” This suggestion caught Tabitha’s attention. Alma simply nodded, “I do, Hazy. Or, if not, it’s almost certainly connected.” “You three slew the shapeshifter,” Tabitha said with some admiration, “I was hoping you’d be able to slay this demon, too. I will assist you, of course.” The three of them were quiet for a long moment, until Alma spoke, “By no means will this be simple or easy...” “It never was,” Tabitha replied. Once again the room fell into silence as everyone considered the situation. Tabitha was looking at them with waning hope. Alma was deep in concentration. Curiously, Eliza seemed especially reserved. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and she was looking towards the floor. Hazel could swear she saw a few drops of sweat on her forehead. Hazel could hardly fault them for the somber mood in the room. They were expecting a powerful enemy, but not one that could materialize a legion of the dead with a flick of its wrist. Certainly not one that stopped your heart if you so much as looked at it. Apprehension was only natural. “Alma,” Hazel’s voice was as encouraging as she could make it, “We finally know what caused all of this. We’re not going to just...” “Give up?” Alma finished, “No, Hazy. We’re not. But this might be more than we can handle. Evacuating the village may be the only solution.” Tabitha sadly shook her head, “I’d considered that, but we’d just be attacked by the undead in the woods. The buildings make for good fortifications and safehouses. If we just walk all these people into the monster’s domain… It would be a slaughter,” “M-might be a way...” Eliza’s quiet, shaky voice was barely audible. “What did you say Eliza?” Hazel asked. “T-there might be something I can do...” Eliza was shrinking further and further under Tabitha’s gaze. “What can you do?” Tabitha asked, just a bit too harshly. “I’d need to s-see it… the winged demon,” Her answer caused Tabitha’s eyes to widen at the thought of facing it again. “Was my description of my own heart stopping inadequate?” “Y-yes...” Hazel felt sorry for the poor girl. Whatever animosity existed between Eliza and Tabitha, it clearly had Eliza about to wet herself. “I need to see it… experience it. Then I think I can counteract it.” “We’d never get close, otherwise,” Alma concluded. “We’ll need some sort of plan, then,” Tabitha said. She seemed a bit more lively, now. Perhaps even such a vague assurance of the possibility of victory was enough to galvanize her. The four of them began to discuss the plan of attack. As much as it pained them, they had to admit that Alma was going to be nearly useless in the conflict, with her shattered arm. She proposed that she stay behind, and help train the villagers to defend themselves. Very few of them were at all able to fight, and they would need every able-bodied adult to assist in the next attack. Hazel and Eliza would go with Tabitha to search for the winged demon, despite how uncomfortable it made Eliza and Tabitha to be in each other’s company. With any luck, the bowman would return before they departed, and could help them track the demon down. Their plan was simple, but it was something. Once it was set, everyone set about preparing for the eventful night. Hazel was quickly pulled aside by Tabitha, though. “Your companion, Eliza, is her name, yes?” “Yes, what about her?” Hazel was quite curious to know why the two seemed to dislike each other. “Are you aware that Eliza is a dangerous witch?” Oh. Oh dear. “Hardly dangerous. Not to us, at least.” “No such thing as a witch that isn’t dangerous, Hazel. And I am not happy about the fact that she will be joining us. The first chance she has, I promise you that she’ll slip a knife into your neck.” Hazel was offended at Tabitha’s words, and rushed to defend her friend, “She’s had a number of chances already, Tabitha. And every time, she came to our rescue. She’s saved both of our lives several times, and she’s pledged to help us kill the demon.” Tabitha’s dissatisfaction was etched into her face, “I will trust you, Hazel. But if she betrays us, I will put her down.” Hazel was suddenly questioning her decision to assist the town. Through gritted teeth, she said, “We really should finish preparing.” “Of course. Be ready in a couple of hours,” Tabitha turned about, and walked away. “T-thanks...” Eliza said, quietly, surprising Hazel. Eliza was very good at keeping out of sight. Hazel felt herself blush knowing that Eliza had heard what was said, though as she faced her friend, she could see that Eliza was blushing far more intensely. “Oh! Eliza! I didn’t know-” “She’s a witch hunter,” she interjected, “And a good one, at that.” “How could you tell?” “When she greeted us, I could feel that I was being suppressed. She was using some trick to keep my charms from working. Only skilled witch hunters can do something like that.” Hazel silently regarded her friend for a bit, until Eliza spoke again, “I… I won’t betray you… You know that, yes?” Eliza actually briefly looked Hazel in the eyes, a rarity from the shy girl. Hazel could sense the honesty in her words. “I know, Eliza. I trust you,” The young witch smiled, “Thank you, H-hazy,” She stumbled a bit as she called her by her nickname for the first time. Before Hazel could respond, Eliza quickly added, “I-I need to go prepare some potions and charms,” before hurrying off. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How does Alma carry this contraption around all the time?! Hazel wondered, feeling the pain in her arms from carrying around the heavy crossbow. She couldn’t put the weapon away, because the undead could attack at any moment, now that they were in the forest once again. Walking right beside her, Eliza seemed to be growing tired, as well. Matthew, the bowman Tabitha mentioned, had actually returned from some sort of hunt, though apparently empty-handed, much to Tabitha’s dismay. He was a fairly young man, roughly the same age as Hazel, with short black hair. She couldn’t help but notice that, despite his obvious skill at traversing the wilds, he and Tabitha both were extremely anxious. Whatever things they had seen, they clearly were not eager to see them again. But, in all honesty, this stretch of forest felt just like the rest to Hazel: foreboding, haunted, and deadly. Matthew came to a sudden stop, and signaled for them to do the same. He was listening for something. Hazel looked around herself, unsure of what she was supposed to be hearing. In a flurry of motion, Matthew spun around, bow and arrow ready, before pulling the string and loosing the shot into the brush. A wet thwack was heard, and Hazel approached it very slowly. Parting the plants, she saw a thin, heavily rotted corpse with an arrow now jutting from its skull. Hazel had never seen, nor smelled an undead before, and she stumbled backwards, gagging heavily. Eliza caught her before she fell down. “Lightweight,” Matthew teased. “Isn’t that the same kind of creature that made you soil your trousers to the brim, last night?” Tabitha teased right back. “... Fair enough” He conceded. Eliza helped steady Hazel as she walked for a moment, as she still felt sick from seeing the thing. If that was what she could expect to be facing, she felt certain there was no way she was getting through this without throwing her guts up. The group continued on their path, having to stop every so often while Matthew attempted to ascertain where to go next. As skilled a hunter as he was, Hazel suspected that hunting a greater demon was something he was rather unaccustomed to. Tabitha gave a short gasp, catching Hazel’s attention, “What’s wrong?” “We are close,” Tabitha replied, “I can sense them.” “How?” “My sword, it… tells me, so to speak.” “I see,” Hazel did not see. “There are enemies ahead. Several of them. Ready your arms, everyone.” Hazel ensured the crossbow was loaded, and that her spare bolts were within reach. She had a knife on her belt, as well. Eliza was carrying a wide variety of potions and other vials, and similarly had a knife. Matthew’s bow was already raised and ready. Tabitha’s strange sword almost seemed to heat up the air around it as she drew it from its sheath. It was an impressive weapon, to be sure. They came upon a cliff face that rose a good ways into air above them. Tabitha had taken the lead of the group, apparently being guided by her sword’s “senses”. She lead them to a large cave opening. A fetid odor issued from inside, making Hazel suppress the urge to retch. It was the stench of death. Tabitha took a deep breath, clutched her sword tightly, and entered the cave. With no small amount of hesitation, the others followed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It watched with glee as she led them into the forest- into its home. It took interest in the young witch. A lost little sheep, being led by an unwitting shepherd. It would have her, or it would end her. Not much further… They just needed a little push. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The inside of the cave was a horrific display that Hazel would remember as long as she lived. Bodies, some looking only days old, some decayed down to skeletons with only ragged clumps of flesh, hung from the walls, or sat in heaps and piles around the cave. Cages and twisted tools of torture littered the area alongside them. Ungodly sigils and glyphs were etched into the walls, the tools, and even some of the bodies. Hazel insides felt like they were spinning as she began gagging once more. Eliza had managed to keep from getting sick, but she was clearly unsettled, and had gone pale. Despite their earlier posturing, even Tabitha and Matthew had been disturbed by their surroundings. “Stay close. Do not stray far,” Tabitha ordered. No one else felt like speaking, if they even could. The pain in Hazel’s arms and legs had been replaced by near numbness. She’d been afraid before. She’d been in danger before. Yet, try as she might, she could not recall a single time or place that screamed “You will die here” louder than this Godforsaken cave. Once again, the crossbow’s rattling betrayed her fear. She took several steps closer to Eliza, who only gave her a sidelong glance. Normally, she wouldn’t allow anyone to get so close to her. Ahead of them, Matthew crouched to inspect an old skeleton with an unholy symbol carved into its skull. As he reached his hand towards it, before even touching it, the skull popped off and clattered loudly to the ground. The mark on its forehead lit up with a fierce orange glow, and Hazel heard rattling around them. From a nearby corpse pile, a skeletal hand burst forth, and pulled its owner from the depths of the pile. It was heavily decayed, only bone left in some places. All around them, similar ghouls were waking from the dead. Most of them had weapons, swords and bows, mostly. The partial numbness Hazel had felt was replaced by total numbness. She shook with fear, and felt tears forming in her eyes. A sensation broke through the numbness: a warm feeling on her legs. Her bladder failed completely, and was violently soaking her legs and pants in her own piss. The stream was fast, and the fabric between her legs was quickly saturated. She could barely even feel her accident, as her attention was still seized by the danger she was in; to her, she could just feel a warm sensation covering the inside of her legs. Tabitha quickly dispatched a few ghouls with her blade, and turned to look at Hazel. She must have seen that Hazel was paralyzed and wet with fear, for she ran towards her and decapitated a ghoul who was primed to strike the frightened girl. Continuing to defend her, Tabitha circled around and fought an enemy behind her. Hazel’s eyes wandered around the battle before her. Matthew was dodging left and right, firing arrow after arrow as he did. Tabitha was fighting ghouls behind her. Eliza… Eliza!! Eliza was slinging one of vials, spewing its contents onto a small group of ghouls. It burned them, and seemed to kill them as they crumbled to the ground. She struggled to grab another, and more and more ghouls were approaching the young witch. “I know that you’re very brave, even if you don’t,” Alma’s words echoed in her mind, breaking through the terrified fog that otherwise filled it. Hazel swallowed, and took a deep, deep breath. Trying to match the stance Alma had shown her, Hazel lifted up the crossbow, and took aim into the cluster forming around Eliza. She fired, and smiled broadly as the silver bolt passed clean through the first ghoul and into a second, killing both. Some of the cluster turned to face her, exactly as she’d hoped. Except… She didn’t know what to do from there. She struggled with reloading the crossbow, especially under pressure, so the first shot was very likely to be the last. She had a silver knife, but… Looking into the swinging claws and gaping mouths of the ghouls, she felt a familiar warmth around her groin as her bladder leaked whatever urine was left in her. She was much too afraid to do something like that. But, much like the first group to attack Eliza, this one suddenly howled and groaned in pain, then collapsed. Dead. Eliza stood there, clutching an empty vial. Hazel had bought her enough time, it seemed. With the two of them secure, the fight largely evolved into Tabitha and Matthew slaying the bulk of the undead while Hazel and Eliza provided support and picked off stragglers. After several agonizing minutes that felt more like hours to Hazel, it was over, and no more of the dead stirred. Everyone was panting heavily, there was no other noise, until Tabitha spoke, “Everyone… All right?” “I’m good,” Matthew said. “Not hurt,” Hazel said, her hands resting over her soaked crotch. She knew it wouldn’t divert attention away from it, but she couldn’t help but try to cover her accident. “F-fine,” Eliza choked out quickly. “Good,” Tabitha continued, picking up her sword, “We still have work to do. The presence I felt is still here.” Hazel was almost hoping Tabitha would order a retreat so they could return with reinforcements, but she knew they couldn’t leave until their task was finished. Once everyone had caught their breath, they continued, deeper into the nightmarish cave. As they walked, Eliza was quietly observing the many symbols covering the walls. After some time, she leaned in to whisper to Hazel, making sure that Tabitha could not hear, “I know these symbols. They’re all necromantic in origin.” “Necromantic?” “I think this is where they’ve been making all the ghouls, the winged demon may not be the one creating them.” “We should tell Tabitha,” Hazel quicked her pace for a split second before Eliza gripped her shoulder. “I don’t want to...” Eliza said, looking at the ground. “Why not?” “She’s a fool. She’ll just use it as evidence that I’m with the people doing this.” “Eliza, I won’t let her hurt you, you know.” “... I know.” “So let’s tell her; this is important. I can do it, if you want,” Hazel gave the witch a caring look. “... Please do.” Hazel quicked her step once more, catching up with Tabitha, who turned to look at her. “Er, Ms. Tabitha?” “Yes?” The witch hunter had an oddly patient tone to her voice. “Eliza was analyzing the… symbols present in this cave, and...” She trailed off for a moment as she noticed Tabitha’s expression souring at the mention of the witch, “... And she believes this may be the place where the ghouls attacking your village are being made. The winged demon might not be the one doing it.” “I saw the winged demon do it,” Almost immediately, her patience had worn thin. This creature must have truly, truly traumatized her. “You s-saw it raise a single, colossal ghoul...” Eliza cut in, and she gasped sharply as Tabitha’s eyes jumped to her. “Would it not be reasonable to assume it can raise others, as well?” “W-well, yes, it may be able to, but...” “Then your theory is just a potential complication we can do without.” Eliza just exhaled in exasperation, and looked downwards. Hazel slowed down and regrouped with her friend. Only a short couple of minutes later, they came upon a large, sealed door. It was made of black stone, and stood taller than a man. Four circular indentations were present on its surface. Matthew and Tabitha set about trying to push and pry it open, but it would not budge. Hazel looked around the cave, but she could find no other paths to take. Eliza seemed lost in thought. Tabitha and Matthew began to search for hidden mechanisms to open the door, and Eliza stepped closer to study it. She drew her knife suddenly, and stabbed it into her finger. Hazel walked up to her to see if she was okay, but the young witch quickly set to work using her bloody finger to draw some sort of shape into one of the indentations. Finishing that one, she moved on to the next, filling it with a different symbol. She did the same for the next two, wincing a bit from the pain in her finger. A loud clicking and even louder THUNK resounded from within the door, and a seam formed vertically, down the center. It was unlocked. “What did you do?” Hazel asked, impressed. “The door required a kind of password. It was a simple disavowal of everything holy and fervent praise for the kings of the dead,” she said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Things I’m not surprised you’re familiar with,” Tabitha said as she approached the opened door. Eliza ignored the remark. Tabitha gave the doors a solid push, and they opened inwards. Hazel’s nose was again assaulted, though this time with the smell of chemicals. A heavy odor of sulfur filled the room. The room itself was, in a way, more terrible than the rest of the cave. Black stone columns reach to the ceiling, lit torches resting in sconces around them. The fires burned more red than Hazel thought they should. Strange alchemical laboratories and large, unpleasant apparatuses lined the walls. These were not the tools of simple butchers, but of very skilled, very evil people. Each of them readied their weapons as they explored the large chamber. A strange mist filled the room, leaving one unable to see from one end to the other. They arrived at the center of the chamber, a massive pentagram emblazoned onto the floor. “How fortuitous...” Came a rasping man’s voice, seemingly from all around them. “Ordinarily, the ghouls are only able to bring back the scraps of talented individuals,” The speaker emerged from the mist. A tall man in a dark purple robe. It obscured every part of his actual flesh. Chains levitated around him as he glided forward. “How I look forward to dissecting them...” Came a rasping woman’s voice. Much like the other, the speaker was completely covered in a purple robe, and chains seemed to orbit her. Hazel and Eliza exchanged glances as the demonic woman appeared behind them. Hazel quickly swung the crossbow towards her, and fired. There was a flash of sparks as the chains whipper out, catching the bolt in the air. “Still have some fight in you…? I can’t wait to extract it,” The woman raised her hand, and a bolt of fire emerged, flying straight towards Hazel. She jumped out of the way, and watched with horror as the ground she was standing on was obliterated by hellfire. Once again, what little urine her body hadn’t already lost dribbled out of her. She rose, and ran behind one of the pillars, using the cover for safety while she reloaded. She glanced at Eliza, and saw that she was throwing one of her vials at the woman. Like the crossbow bolt, the chains whipped out at extremely high speeds, though found that a glass vial was substantially weaker than a bolt. The vial shattered instantly, then ignited into a brilliant holy fire that momentarily illuminated the entire chamber. The demonic woman screamed in pain, then screamed out assurances of their painful deaths. Crossbow reloaded, Hazel circled about the other side of the pillar. The woman flung a ball of hellfire at Eliza, who screamed and ran out of the way. The explosion still caught her, and flung her to the ground. While she was distracted, Hazel aimed and fired the crossbow, and the bolt embedded itself into the woman’s side. She screamed in pain once again, and spun to face Hazel. One of the chains, its tip broken and sharp, launched forward, Hazel sidestepped as fast as she was able, but it still cut her cheek deeply, drawing quite a bit of blood. The chain shot out once more, stabbing into her left shoulder, then again into her right leg. Each cut was deep and painful enough to be debilitating, but none of them lethal. She fell onto her backside, scurrying backwards as the chain continually propelled forward, sometimes missing and sometimes hitting. In her fear, she failed to keep her grasp on her crossbow. Tears once again welled in her eyes, and she whimpered quietly as she continued her pitiful attempts to escape. Her vision filled with spots as her head hit on something behind her. She had been backed up to the far wall of the chamber. Her legs shook and quivered. Her arms wouldn’t move. Tears streamed down her face. She looked up at the faceless demonic woman. She opened her mouth to plead for mercy, but nothing came out. The sharp end of the chain drifted down to her neck, the knife-like edge pressing into her flesh, drawing a drop of blood. With a quiet crackle, her pants tented out suddenly. The shit was hard and pushed the seat of her panties and trousers out far. Softer mess followed it, filling up the newly created gap in her underwear. The smell of shit drifted up to her nostrils, furthering her shame. The woman chuckled, “Yes… Release yourself… Give in to fear. It’s so much easier...” The chain wrapped itself around her neck, and began to squeeze tightly. Her eyes began to close, certain that this was it. A bright light, like the sun, caught her attention. The demon woman was engulfed in a white fire that completely covered her. She screamed in agony, but only for a second. When the luminescent fire dissipated, most of her body was gone, and she dropped to the floor, dead. Eliza stood behind her, now with one less vial than she entered with. The witch ran to help Hazel, and she managed to remove the chain from her neck. Through choked sobs, Hazel said “Thank you… Thank you so much, Eliza,” as she pulled the witch into a tight hug. The chamber was eerily quiet, and she wondered if the fight was over. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One of the chains floating around the robed man whipped forward, catching Tabitha off guard and striking her in the belly. It sliced through her doublet and cut into her skin. He was unable to strike again as the chains were suddenly occupied blocking several arrows, courtesy of Matthew. Seizing upon the opening, Tabitha charged at the demon, who raised his hand and summoned a torrent of fire. Tabitha rolled to her right as fast as possible, but the demon man kept up with her, continuing to launch the hellish fire. She ran, and as she passed by Matthew, he ran with her. The two of them hid behind a pillar. The massive stream of hellfire impacted the stone column, splitting it and causing it to pass by, uncomfortably close, but safely by the two hiding people. The air around them was heating up to extraordinary temperatures, and breathing became difficult. Tabitha took the moment to inspect herself for damage. Her midsection had received a nasty cut, but it was manageable. She was lightly singed all over, but not burned anywhere. Looking at her legs, her eyes drifted over to Matthew’s, and she noticed the wetness seeping into his pants. A very large stain surrounded his groin, and the streams were just reaching his knees and beginning to reach further down. “Are you all right?” She asked. She almost had to shout to be heard over the roar of the fires. “Wet,” He replied, “But it’s better than being on fire” “We need a plan! Let’s try and-” All at once, the fires ended, and her speech was cut off as a chain wrapped around the column, encircling their necks as well. It pulled them hard against the stone. The shock made Tabitha lose a little bit of her own urine, as she felt her panties grow warm around her privates. The chain tightened, and her bladder released even more. The area around her crotch and inner thighs turned hot with piss. A stain, roughly the diameter of an orange had formed between her legs. Tighter and tighter they pulled. The stain on her pants grew as she pissed more. A few small streams race down her legs, ahead of the rest of the flood. The chain pulled ever tighter, and she swore she could feel something in her break. Her bladder completely abandoned its hold, and she sprayed piss down her legs as she thrashed about. The dark stain traveled erratically down her legs, until, at last, her legs stopped kicking as she ran out of energy, and the urine spilled over her boots, making a puddle around her. Tabitha noticed a heavy weight in her abdomen, and she knew her bowels were preparing to void themselves into her underwear. She clamped down. She knew how absurd it was to try and preserve her dignity in a situation like this, but if she was about to die, she wanted that to happen after she was gone. She looked around for a solution, but it seemed there was none to be found. The chain loosened its grip on the two for just a second, and she wondered if it was over, only for the chain to recoil from the pillar and solely encircle the pair’s necks. They were lifted into the air, and brought to face the demon man. Tabitha could could hear a faint braaaaap, followed by a loud, wet crackling sound. She wondered briefly if she had just shit herself in terror, but a quick glance at the expanding seat of Matthew’s trousers confirmed otherwise. They tented and filled out sharply and quickly as he lost control of his bowels. “Fear… So delicious...” The demon man said. “You will serve us well,” He raised his hand, and made a fist. The chains tightened immeasurably. Both of them pried at the chain desperately, but it was hopeless. That is, until the demon man groaned in pain, and the chain released them. They fell to the ground, hard. Matthew was sprawled on his back, gasping for breath, and as eager as Tabitha was to follow this example, she gripped her sword as tightly as her numb body would, and lunged forward, burying the blade into the demon’s chest. The last of her energy spent, she collapsed, and after a short second, the demon man did as well, holy sword jutting from his chest. She was lying on her stomach on the ground, and that weight in her abdomen made itself known once more. She could hardly have avoided shitting herself if she wanted to, so she gave a quick push, and felt the mess slide out of her easily, and come to a rest in her panties. Her body needed no instruction after the first log, and continued to pour soft mess into her pants, which now had a slowly but steadily growing bulge on the seat. Before fading into unconsciousness, she looked up and saw the witch girl pointing a recently-fired crossbow at them. Her last thought was that it was just her luck that the witch of all people would’ve saved her.
  5. DsGSilver

    The curse of the eastern isle

    >Head over to Lucina Very fun dream sequence.
  6. Absolutely, I'm just really slow. Truth be told, I've had about 25% of the next chapter done for quite some time. I've been writing a lot of non-omo things, and it's kinda taken me away from most of my omo fiction, but I have no intention of giving up this story. I can't say for sure when the next chapter will be posted, only that it is coming.
  7. DsGSilver

    Journey to Arnwick

    This is not exactly what I expected the discussion would look like, but it made me laugh. Anyway, it looks like you guys don't mind male scenes too much, so there will likely be some more of them. The story will still primarily center on female characters and their accidents, of course, so don't worry if male scenes just aren't your thing. Thanks for the feedback! I want to get the content train up and rolling again, so I'm happy to say that work has already begun on the next chapter.
  8. DsGSilver

    Wet in the Wastelands II

    Really enjoyed this chapter. B and 3.
  9. DsGSilver

    Journey to Arnwick

    Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present the first chapter of Journey to Arnwick to be released in 2018... Nearly five months in. Sorry about the slowness. But this chapter was a lot of fun to write, and I hope its a fun read, as well. A new major character gets a lengthy introduction. And, fair warning, there's a few very brief male wetting/messing scenes. I'm kind of testing the waters to see if people will be too upset by it, or not mind that much. Feel free to voice your opinion on whether or not you'd mind there being male scenes in future chapters. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A harsh sound, almost like the cracking of a whip, accompanied the crossbow bolt as it soared away from the weapon that bore it. Through the cool, night air it flew, before it sailed passed a hastily-constructed target, and buried itself into the bark of a tree. “Damn...” Hazel muttered dejectedly under her breath. “Imagine where the bolt is going to fly, not where you want it to fly,” Alma instructed. The monster hunter’s right arm rested in a makeshift sling after their encounter with the demon in the tavern. That had been a few days ago, and it was going to take many more until Alma could actually wield her favorite weapon again. In the interim, Alma had been teaching Hazel how to use it, in the almost inevitable event that they are attacked once again. Her training had begun yesterday, and continued in the early morning and late night, whenever the group was camped. And she was bad at shooting. Very bad. Alma was doing her best to tutor her, and insisted that she would come to learn how to use the crossbow with some practice. But she wasn’t learning it. She missed most of her shots. Her arms were sore from holding the heavy weapon, and her hands ached terribly from constantly having to reload it and pull the tight string back. Hazel turned to Alma, intent on saying as much, but didn’t get a word out before Alma’s encouraging smile and a hint of pride in her eyes made her keep her thoughts to herself. Alma thinks I can… She thought, And Alma wouldn’t be wrong about something like that. I will make her proud. Ignoring the cramps in her fingers, she tugged the string back, and fitted a bolt inside the weapon. She took aim at the target. She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled as Alma had advised her to. Another harsh sound shattered the silence, and the bolt was let loose. Flying through the air, it pierced into the target, landing roughly halfway between the center and the outer edge. Hazel felt a smile creep onto her face. She couldn’t help but feel happy on the rare occasions when she actually landed the shot. A rough-but-friendly pat on the back from Alma indicated she felt the same. “There you go, Hazy!” Alma was almost beaming. “Thanks, but...” Hazel began, but trailed off. “‘But...’?” “Well, I know this training is for emergencies, but I can’t help but feel that...” She paused for a moment, “Well, that if there is an emergency, I’m just going to wet myself and be too frightened to use it...” Alma seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “Let me tell you a story,” she gestured towards their campfire, and the two sat down near it, basking in its warmth. “On one of my first hunts with Donny,” she began, gazing into the flames as she spoke, “we took up a contract to exterminate some ghouls that had overrun a lumber mill and some neighboring cottages. Very basic stuff, childsplay, honestly,” it still impressed Hazel that Alma honestly considered slaying ghouls to be easy work, “so we set out, and before long, it became pretty clear that there was, indeed, a ghoul infestation. The wildlife had all fled the area, the plants were suffering, and the air reeked. Now, this was one of Donny’s first hunts ever, and most certainly his first encounter with undead ever. Long before we even saw any of them, he was pale and shivering a bit. I tried to ease his nerves, told him how easy prey that ghouls were, and that worked a little,” she chuckled lightly as she reminisced, “Well, he got scared again very soon. The moment the fighting started, and he actually got face-to-face with one, all the color and life just drained out of him… and down his legs,” “He wet himself?” Hazel asked, beginning to see the point of Alma’s story. “To say he ‘wet himself’ is pretty forgiving. The poor boy sent half a lake’s worth of piss down his legs. And it goes without saying what he did to the seat of his trousers,” Alma chuckled again, and Hazel joined her. “But, do you know what happened?” Alma asked, and Hazel shook her head, “Once we’d cleared out the undead, we did a quick search of the area before deciding that we had killed all of them. We had not. As I sheathed my daggers and slung my crossbow over my shoulder, a crawler ghoul-” Alma noted Hazel’s look of confusion, “- a very fast and agile type of ghoul that likes to crawl on all fours- snuck up behind me. It jumped from a rooftop, and slammed into me as my back was turned, bringing me to the ground. It started howling and clawing into my back while I was trying to shake it off. I was struggling as much as I could, but it was hardly any use. And then, with no hesitation whatsoever, Donny sprints over- piss still dripping off his legs- and shoots the thing in the chest. While it’s screaming in pain, he keeps coming, and starts bashing it with the bluntest parts of his crossbow, until it stops moving. I pick myself up off the ground, and help him finish it.” She mimicked the act of stabbing with her good arm. “Now…” She continued, “I had neglected to tell Donny one reason I was so relieved that the day’s hunt would be easy and quick,” She put on a slightly embarassed smile, “I needed to empty my bowels, somewhat urgently, and was hoping to do so after the hunt had ended. Once the crawler was dead, I quickly noticed how little I needed the privy anymore, and how heavy my trousers had suddenly become.” “I think I see what you’re trying to tell me, but, well, I’ve already seen it, Alma.” Hazel averted her eyes as she explained, “you’ve already both wet and soiled yourself in front of me. I understand that it happens to everyone, but-” “That’s not the point of my story at all,” Alma interrupted. “It isn’t?” “No, Hazy. My point was that Donny, so scared he pissed and shit in his own pants, put his fear aside and charged into battle with the courage of a hundred men the moment he knew that he needed to. He and I have seen each other in dire need of a change of pants or underwear hundreds of times, but we always came to the other’s rescue, no matter how terrified we are. We did this because we knew it was the right thing to do. Being brave isn’t acting without fear, Hazy. It’s acting in spite of it,” Alma reached her hand out and patted Hazel on the back once again, “and I know that you’re very brave, even if you don’t,”. Hazel looked up at her, unsure of what to say. “And that’s why the crossbow training isn’t going to stop until you’re a master. Whenever you do turn brave, I won’t have you dying just because I didn’t teach you to use the damn thing,”. “Okay, Alma,” Was all she could think to say, but, in all honesty, it was all that needed to be said, as she looked into her friend’s eyes with gratitude. They stood back up, Hazel with crossbow in hand, and resumed training. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A young girl crouched in the bushes, quietly observing the two women. One of them appeared to have a broken arm, and the other could barely lift her crossbow. These two hardly looked like the “great warriors” she was meant to be looking for. She looked a bit more closely at the two, and even through the taller woman’s thick jacket, it was immediately evident that her physicality was impressive. As the tall woman seemed to be coaching the smaller one in the use of a crossbow, she guessed that the tall woman’s broken arm meant she had to relegate the duty of protection to someone. One of them glanced in her direction, and she felt her heart skip a beat as she feared she may have been spotted. She quickly assessed herself, to see if there was any part of her that would be immediately visible. Her brown skirt covered her legs down to her ankles, and fit in well with the environment around them. Her white blouse certainly wasn’t blending in, but she was obscured enough by the foliage that it shouldn’t have mattered. It helped that she was not exactly a large person. She was in her mid-teens, and even then, short for age. Even so, anxiety began to get the better of her, and she realized that her light skin and blonde, fluffy hair were not exactly conducive to stealth. A million sentiments of worry played through her mind as she wondered what they might do to her if they caught her. She knew nothing about these people, and worried that they could be dangerous. Whether or not one of them may have suspected her presence, they both resumed their training, and seemed to forget about whatever it was that caught their attention. The girl breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and felt her body gradually stop shivering. She hadn’t even realized she was shaking. Very slowly, very quietly, she retreated further into the bush, preparing to head back. Whether or not they’re the ones we’re looking for, I should still tell- Her thoughts were interrupted as she turned around and came face to face with a young woman in orange dress, almost bumping into her. The woman in orange looked down on her with tired, inquisitive eyes. The girl couldn’t help but scream in shock, no matter how fervently she tried to suppress the sound. She stumbled backwards, until she tripped and fell, landing on her rear. At the sudden commotion the other women had stopped their training, and were now walking towards them. The woman in orange stepped closer, then spoke, “Who are you, and why are you watching us?” As the other two women closed the distance between them, the girl noticed with dismay that they moved to encircle her. She was surrounded. She shook her head slightly, then forced herself to rise to her feet, determined to stand tall in the face of danger. Staring the woman in orange in the eyes, she answered “M-m-my name is E-emily...” Hearing the fear in her own voice caused her confidence to weaken. Emily peered at the other two women from the corners of her eyes. The one with a broken arm had drawn a silvery dagger in her still-functioning left hand. The other was loading the crossbow, which was pointed at Emily. The one in the orange dress took another step forward, then spoke “And why were you watching us? What are you doing here?” Beyond being merely inquisitorial, the woman’s voice was cold, suspicious, and mean. The questions were also almost perfectly synchronized with the rattling of a crossbow that had just been loaded and armed. The gravity of her situation was already crushing her; it was difficult to breathe normally; her heart felt ready to erupt out of her chest; and the harsh sound of the weapon being readied became the straw that broke the camel’s back. Between Emily’s legs, her gray panties began to darken as bodily control faltered, and her bladder began to release. The hot stain grew from her womanhood, slowly spreading to encompass her entire groin, before she could feel the shameful heat beginning to spread to her backside. Emily blushed fiercely, knowing that she had begun pissing herself. Try as she might, she was unable to stop her release, only slow it. Two thin trails of hot urine trickled down her thighs, past her knees, and arrived at her feet, where they began pooling into the dirt. Having slowed her urination, it was subtle enough that the women surrounding her might not even realize that she was wetting herself. Nonetheless, she was all too aware of what she’d done under her skirt, and she burned with shame about it. Though it felt like an eternity must have passed since she started to wet herself, it had only been a few seconds, and, after mentally collecting herself, she answered the woman’s questions, “I was w-watching you, because...” She paused to ponder just how much she should divulge to them, “M-my town is being attacked, and a witch hunter who’s protecting us said that some ‘great warriors’ should arrive soon. I was hoping to find them...” She was proud of herself for maintaining her composure while speaking, even though she could still feel the last of her piss trailing down her thighs. The three women stopped to consider her words, until finally, the one with a broken arm said “Emily, is your village close by?” “Y-yes,” Emily replied, “Just a few hours to the north,” “And Emily?” The broken-armed woman continued. “May I see your hand, please?” Confused, but not wishing to antagonize any of them, Emily complied, and slowly lifted her arm up, facing the palm to the woman. She stepped closer, then, with incredible speed, pricked Emily’s hand with her dagger. Emily shrieked in surprise and pain, and withdrew her hand, clutching it in pain. After a few seconds, she looked at the wound, and was relieved to see that it was little more than a deep scratch. It stung, but that was about all it would do. “Sorry, Emily. The last ‘friendly’ person we met turned out to be a demon in human skin. I didn’t want a repeat of that encounter,” Seemingly satisfied with Emily’s reaction, or perhaps, lack thereof, she put her blade away, and signaled for the others to do the same with their weapons. “You can go, child. And tell this witch hunter of yours that we’ll be along shortly,”. “Y-yes ma’am,” The words came to her almost unbidden. Even with her arm in a sling, the tall, muscular woman commanded an aura of respect. Heeding her instructions, Emily turned and began to walk to the north, back to her home. Her face burned red with shame once more as she felt her shoes squishing with each step. She didn’t want to look behind her, but she was sure she had left a large puddle on the ground. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alma, Eliza, and Hazel watched Emily walk away. Hazel had noticed very quickly that they had frightened the poor child into urinating in her clothes. It took all the willpower she had not to drop the crossbow and hug the child when she noticed the little pools gathering around her feet. Though, like Alma said, their last “friendly” encounter had likely instilled each of them with some long-lasting trust issues. “So, what do you think?” Alma asked, breaking the silence. She glanced back and forth, between Hazel and Eliza. “Her village is on the path we have to travel, though I wonder if it would be safer and faster just to travel around it,” Eliza intoned. “But she said it was being attacked” Hazel rebutted, “They might need our help,”. “Hazy, we aren’t in fighting shape,” Alma said, with a grim expression on her face. Hazel hoped dearly that her friend wasn’t about to suggest they leave these people to their fate. “B-but what about that witch hunter? Something about ‘great warriors’? Surely we should see what that’s about,” Hazel was desperately trying to find something that would convince the others to not ignore the village. “We haven’t been very subtle. We killed a greater demon just a few nights ago. In all likelihood, this witch hunter was just hoping that whomever was responsible for that would happen upon the village,” Eliza said. “Well, what luck!” Hazel half-shouted, growing exasperated, “We were responsible for it, and we have happened upon the village!” “Hazy,” Alma said sternly, “I cannot fight in this state, and the two of you can hardly fight at all, we would be no help to them,”. “S-sure we would!” Hazel was on the brink of tears, “Eliza could make them potions, and you and I could...” Hazel stopped when she saw Alma’s face. She had a miserable expression, and it quickly became clear to Hazel that this decision was not an easy one for Alma. “D-didn’t you just tell Emily that we’d ‘be along shortly’?”. “Yes. To make her leave, while we weighed our options,” “It was foolish of them to make their homes in this place,” Eliza interjected, “If they are wise, they’ll abandon their village. Even if we saved them from this crisis, a new one would arise the moment we departed,”. “B-but the witch hunter!” Hazel’s eyes lit up with an idea, “Someone like that would be ideal for fighting the monster in Arnwick! A-and you said it yourself, Alma, we’re in no fighting shape. We need their help,”. “Hazy...” “Alma just… please...” the last word emerged as a choked sob. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving people that needed their help. Over the last several days, she had learned well what it meant to feel helpless, powerless. To come so close to death time and again. It was something Hazel wouldn’t wish on anyone. Alma opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, as she looked sadly at Hazel. After a long moment, she sighed and said “All right, Hazel… We’ll go,”. Hazel’s eyes widened, and she felt tears run down her cheeks. A smile came to her face, and she rushed forward to hug her friend, muttering “Thank you,” repeatedly. “We’ll go to look, Hazel. We’ll decide what to do from there,” Alma’s tone made Hazel think that she had already made up her mind, and that she had decided to help out the village. Eliza groaned in anger, “Your goodwill is going to get us all killed,”. Their destination set, the group decided to turn in for the night. While the trip may be short, they were not likely to be in for an easy day if the goal was to save a village from destruction. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Glug Glug Glug Tabitha let out harsh exhalation as she pulled the wine bottle from her lips. A grateful innkeeper had gifted it to her as thanks for the protection she’d offered the village. It was good. Certainly of a much higher quality than one would have expected out of such a meager village. But, in truth, Tabitha was most grateful for its potency. The intoxication was a welcome thing. For four days, this village had been under siege from the living dead. For four days, Tabitha had stood at the forefront, vanquishing the fiends and protecting the innocents. And on each of those four days, as she stood, alone save for the few villagers bold enough to take up a scythe or pitchfork, she had shivered and shaken in fear. Swirling the red liquid around in its bottle, she chuckled lightly, recalling how a young girl had remarked how incredibly brave she must be, to fight such monsters, when, in reality, Tabitha had actually shit herself in terror. Even as the girl was speaking of her bravery, The seat of Tabitha’s trousers were bulging and browned. She was quite grateful that her coat hung well passed her rear, hiding her shame. Similarly, she was grateful that the undead had such a powerful odor about them, as her own odor was completely masked by it. At long last, she was given something alcoholic. Something she prayed would grant her enough courage to face the undead without her body going numb. She was undecided if she felt it was comforting or not that she was far from the only one to lose control of themselves in these skirmishes. Every night, the dead attacked, and every night, most every man and woman who was courageous enough to stand by her side became paralyzed with fear at the sight of undead horde. The ones who survived almost always went home in wet and soiled clothing. “Soiled clothing...” She thought, You would be hard pressed to find trousers more heavily soiled than the ones I’m wearing. Numerous accidents had left her dark green pants mildly discolored down the inner thighs. Though her long, brown leather coat hid her rear from sight, she knew the seat of her pants had turned brown. At least her boots had been spared most of the damage. A dark green doublet covered her ample chest, though with all the cuts, rips, and tears it had sustained in the fighting, Tabitha figured it wouldn’t be terribly long until the garment disintegrated off of her. She was caucasian, though much tanner than most from her time in the sun. Bright, reddish-orange hair hung perfectly straight from her head, down to her shoulders. As was tradition amongst monster, witch, and demon hunters, a wide-brimmed hat sat upon her head like a crown. She looked up to the sky. It was dark. Very dark. They’d be here soon. The thought filled her with dread. She lifted the bottle up to her lips once more. Her drinking was interrupted by shouting. Setting the bottle down, Tabitha quickly patted herself down, ensuring she had all of her equipment, then sprinted towards the source of the noise. “Emily!” The voice of a worried woman split the night. “Emily!” Tabitha could see her, now. A simply dressed woman was running around the village, calling for her daughter. Her face was a mask of unparalleled worry. Upon spotting Tabitha, the woman rushed towards her. She clasped her hands together, and, despite being out of breath, spoke quickly and clearly, “Madame Tabitha, please, have you seen Emily?!” “Calm down,” Tabitha began. “Please, just please tell me if you’ve seen her, I can’t find her anywhe-” “Calm down,” She repeated, “Breathe,”. “Of course, of course, I’m sorry...” The mother took a few deep breaths. “But… it’s almost time...” “Emily’s a clever girl,” Tabitha remembered Emily. The young girl had kept her company during her days here. “I’m sure she’s safe, wherever she is,”. “I know that, but… Can’t you please help me search for her?” Tabitha suppressed a groan of annoyance. Since she arrived, she’d had to play mother for everyone here. While it filled her with a sense of pride and accomplishment, she was growing very tired, and with the attack about to commence, there was no way she could spare the time to help search for someone. Not wanting to upset the woman even further, Tabitha spoke softly, “I’m sorry, miss, but-” “THEY’RE HERE,” Someone screamed. Tabitha felt her body go rigid. Time was up. Emily’s mother had gone very pale. The two of them turned towards the largely ruined eastern end of the village. Sure enough, several villagers were fleeing for their lives, a nightmarish undead horde advancing behind them. Tabitha heard a splattering sound, and worried briefly that her bladder had already failed her. She pat her crotch lightly, and was satisfied to feel no wetness. Turning towards Emily’s mother, Tabitha saw that she had not been so lucky. The front of her blue skirt hosted a large, uneven wet patch that was steadily growing, while large drops and streams of urine fell from between her legs, splashing heavily on the ground. A foul smell in the air indicated she had lost control of her bowels, as well. She was petrified with fear of the oncoming horde. Tabitha grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her viciously. “Get to the town hall! Do you hear me?!” Tabitha’s shouting had no effect. The witch hunter raised her hand, and delivered a powerful smack to her cheek. That seemed to wake her up. “Get to the town hall, barricade the doors, and grab whatever you can use as a weapon!” The woman only nodded, so Tabitha gave her a little shove, “Go!”. So far, the town hall had served as a small fortress during these attacks. Anyone not taking part in the defense gathered in there for protection. Tabitha hoped it could hold for another night. Looking back to the battle, Tabitha swore as she saw it had begun without to head the defense. Precious few villagers, surely no more than twelve of them, armed with weaponized farming tools or kitchen utensils were already engaged with the undead at the head of the pack. Tabitha drew her weapon- a masterfully made saber, forged with silver and heavily consecrated. It was a weapon made to slay the unholy by the thousands. She took a deep, deep breath, then charged into battle, sword held high. Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the battle. She had a talent for doing so. She quickly counted that four of the villagers were in dire need of help. Almost immediately, she decided upon the order to aid each of them, before she charged into the bulk of the undead to draw their attention. This was the way the fighting had gone every night. Firstly, a young man, barely an adult, and his wife had been driven back by a number of undead. Their backs were against the wall fo a ruined building, now. Tabitha sprinted towards them, as fast as she was able. A cluster of ghouls was surrounding them, and they had only pitchforks to defend themselves. A sheath of wetness was running down the man’s left leg, and a little down the right. As Tabitha arrived, she delivered a mighty horizontal slash into the group of ghouls. Like a hot knife through butter, her saber flew through them, casting ash and cinder into the air as the holy blade vaporized them where it touched them. She had slain at least six of them with a single strike. With a series of expert stabs and slashes, Tabitha dispatched the remaining ghouls as the young couple used their pitchforks to slay newly arriving ghouls. “T-thank you, Tabitha!” The man said, real gratitude in his voice. She gave a curt nod in reply. With the undead that were advancing upon the couple now after her, she ran for the next target. A middle-aged man wielding a woodcutter’s axe was felling ghoul after ghoul, while three children huddled behind him. He was slowly being surrounded, though, and it would not be long until he was overwhelmed. Much like she did with the couple, Tabitha ran up and cleaved several undead apart at once. She could see a wicked smile break upon the old man’s face as he and Tabitha began slicing the ghouls apart side-by-side. Once they were clear, she shouted to him, “Get the kids to the town hall!” “I was trying to! Thanks for the save!” He gave the kids a shove to get them moving as he ushered them to the safehouse. Unsurprisingly, each of the kids needed a change of clothes. Third on the list, the town had a skilled hunter who was very adept with a bow. He was standing atop the roof a ruined building, trying to shoot the more dangerous of the undead before they reached the other defenders. But it seemed the undead had caught on to this strategy, as now crawler ghouls were scaling the wall of the building, and would soon be upon him. Sheathing her sword, Tabitha stood in front of the wall of the building. She coiled her legs, then jumped as high as she could, her fingertips just barely able to catch the edge of the roof. Straining her muscles horribly, she pulled and pulled, until she finally was able to climb onto the rooftop. And just in time, as a crawler lunged onto the hunter, pinning him to the ground. It howled as it beat him furiously, and Tabitha could hear him screaming. She prayed she wasn’t too slow. She drove her blade into the crawler’s side, the holy blade killing it instantly. Kicking off the rooftop, she offered a hand to the hunter, who rose shakily to his feet, his face bruised. He was battered, but not severely injured. His courage was beginning to fail, if the large, lumpy mound in his pants was any indication, and Tabitha worried that he might retreat if he became too terrified. They needed his support. She patted him on the back, “Good work so far. Are you all right?” “Y-yeah, I think so...” He was clearly very dazed. “Just keep shooting, we’ve almost fought them off,” Without another word, she leapt from the rooftop, into the middle of the horde. With a spinning slash, she chopped every ghoul around her into two, before advancing forward while continuing to cut down every ghoul before her. Once she cut her way out of the horde, she spotted the final person who needed assistance. A woman, wearing trousers and wielding a shortsword (both apparently oddities in this village, though they were in no position to complain) was dueling with a powerful undead man. Unlike the ghouls, he was not slow and cumbersome, and he wielded a longsword. Tabitha knew she would be in trouble if she were forced to parry his attacks with her own sword. As powerful as her blade was, it was meant for laying the dead back to rest, not for sword-to-sword combat. Evidently, neither was the woman’s shortsword, as she was being driven back by his merciless onslaught. Tabitha took a roundabout path to them, hoping to stab the undead man from behind. Just before she could strike, the man whirled about, as though told of her attack, and swung his sword at her. She jumped away at the last second. Behind him, the woman with shortsword took the opportunity to begin stabbing and cutting him as much as possible. Once again, he whirled around, swinging his sword at her neck. With a scream of fear, the woman ducked, narrowly dodging the huge attack. Even over the cacophonous sounds of combat, Tabitha could hear a loud PLBRTPLBRTPLBRT as the woman’s fear caused her to empty her bowels into her trousers, the seat of which rapidly darkened and tented outwards. Though this attack nearly cost the woman her life, it was an amazing stroke of luck for Tabitha, as the undead man had lodged his blade within a wall, and now struggled to pull it free. Wasting no time, Tabitha swung her saber, and severed the undead man’s head. The body fell to the ground. Tabitha helped the woman to her feet, and she struggled to catch her breath. After a few seconds, she reached a hand to her backside, and silently swore when she felt the large release resting there. “It’s almost over, just keep fighting!” Tabitha said, the woman, still out of breath, nodded enthusiastically in reply. Tabitha’s words of encouragement were not false, either. The horde was mostly destroyed, now. Tabitha ran into the bulk of the undead once more, slicing through them as they were mere weeds. As each of the defenders were galvanized by her display, they pushed the horde back, until they stood beside her, and routed the rest of the fiends. As the young couple from earlier cooperatively drove a pitchfork into the last ghoul, the defenders began to cheer and celebrate, for they had survived another night. Tabitha, though more exhausted than she had ever been, found it difficult not to get swept up in the mood; after all, she had ended the battle without pissing or shitting her pants. The impromptu militia gathered around Tabitha, cheering for her. She would humbly suggested that it was a collective effort, and that she didn’t deserve all the praise, but there was no air left in her lungs to do so. So, she settled for just smiling while she panted furiously. Curiously, she noticed that her breaths were creating thick clouds of steam in the air. Seconds later, a terrible chill struck her, freezing her to the bones. Looking around, she was not the only one- the celebration ended before it could begin, as the militia now looked around in barely-contained panic. Looking into the forest, Tabitha saw it: A huge, twisted creature was peering at them from deep into the woods. It was shaped somewhat like a human, though its very large, feathery wings and oddly bent legs were evidence enough that it was not one. Just looking at it, Tabitha could feel her heart stop. And not start again. Panic seized her, and she averted her eyes from the creature, and pounded on her own chest. Her relief when she felt her heart begin pumping once more was immense. The creature raised a hand, and from the ground in front of it, a monstrous hand burst forth. Pulling itself further above ground, an absolutely grotesque monstrosity, seemingly an amalgamation of dozens of ghouls now stood before them. The winged creature that summoned it vanished into the shadows of the trees, and the colossal ghoul then lumbered towards the village. It was monstrous in its proportions. It’s body was muscled to almost comical proportions, and its arms were so long that it dragged them along the ground. “What do we do?” Someone behind Tabitha asked. “What do we do?!” Psssssssss… Tabitha could feel the liquid courage she drank earlier draining out of her, now. Her groin had turned hot and wet, and the front of her pants now bore a sizeable wet stain. She pressed her thighs together, clamping down as hard as possible. As the monstrosity drew closer, Tabitha felt as though the earth were shaking with every step it took. Pssssssssss… She unwillingly released more of her urine into her own pants. With her legs pressed so tightly together, the urine travelled across the front of her legs, staining the green fabric a darker green as little trails wound every which-way down her toned thighs. Once again, she forced herself to clamp down, and stopped further leaking. “Tabitha, what do we-” The man’s desperate question was interrupted when the colossal ghoul let loose an ear-rending roar, causing everyone to cover their ears in pain. Knowing any hope for at least semi-dry pants was gone, Tabitha stopped holding on, and fully emptied her bladder into her panties and trousers. The green fabric was flooded immediately as her water poured into them, the streams falling into a puddle below her. The insides and front of her pants were completely soaked through with piss. The monster, through great effort, raised its arm into the air, preparing to slam it down onto Tabitha. The milities scattered, but Tabitha could not move. As she saw the arm descend, bringing certain death, she was suddenly pulled away. Coming to her senses, she saw the shortsword woman had pulled her out of the way at the last second. “Come on! It’s almost over, Tabitha!” She said, lifting the witch hunter to her feet. Tabitha looked at her saviour. The woman’s pants also had huge dark streaks down her legs. It looked as though Tabitha wasn’t the only one to wet themselves at the sight of the creature. Inspired by the woman’s actions, Tabitha nodded, then readied her sword. The monster swiped its gigantic hand across the ground, and the two women barely jumped out of the way. As they struggled to rise to their feet, the monster came close, preparing to crush them both. It raised its goliath fists, then stumbled backwards suddenly, roaring in rage as an arrow pierced its eye. Tabitha looked in disbelief as the hunter still stood on the rooftop, furiously firing arrow after arrow into the beast. He had bought her quite a window of opportunity. She ran forward, ignoring the drops of piss slinging everywhere as she did so, swung her blade into the monster’s leg. Much like the ghouls, it flew through it, as though there was no resistance. It continued its agonized roaring, and Tabitha continued slicing, until she had fully severed the beasts leg. It fell forward, resting on its belly and holding itself up with its arms. If this thing was at all like other undead, then destroying its head should finish it off. This in mind, Tabitha ran around it, attempting to reach the monster’s front. The hunter continued to distract it, and the colossal ghoul was trying, in vain, to swat him. Arriving at the beast’s front, Tabitha began to carve out a hole in its gargantuan chest. Its head was too high up for her to reach, and she decided that any damage was better than waiting for the head to come into range. Remarkably quickly, the monster’s attention shifted from the hunter to her, and moved its massive hand to grab her. Tabitha noticed all too late, and was lifted into the air as though she were weightless. The beast squeezed her tightly, and the strain caused her to drop her sword, which fell to the ground below her. The ghoul opened its mouth, and prepared to devour her. She struggled hard against its grip, but it was pointless. She closed her eyes and turned away in fright. As she did so, her bowels voided with a noisy BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAP. The release was warm and wet, and she could feel it smearing across her rear and collecting in the space between her legs. The semi-solid mush escaped the cuffs of her panties, and numerous brown trails slid down the back of her legs, staining her pants. A foul squishing sound continually emanated from the witch hunter as she continued to soil herself. And then, she was falling. She landed on the ground with a rough thud, and looked at the beast. The woman with the shortsword had taken up Tabitha’s saber, and cut off the arms it was holding her with. In pain, the beast fell to the ground, unable to support itself with only one arm. The woman threw Tabitha her sword, and in one fluid motion, Tabitha plunged the sword into the colossal ghoul’s head. It’s roaring was silenced quickly as the unholy life drained from it. All was quiet for a time, as everyone caught their breath and awaited for further surprises. But there were none. The quiet was eventually shattered when a woman shouted “She’s killed it! She’s killed the monster!!” “The monster’s dead!” “Tabitha killed the bastard!” All around, the townspeople had emerged from the town hall, and they and the militia were cheering and celebrating as though there were no tomorrow. Tabitha was much too exhausted to even try and disguise her accidents, but the people hardly even seemed to notice. Truth be told, after the strange creature had summoned the giant ghoul, it looked as though half the people hiding in the town hall soiled themselves, as well. While the people were celebrating, Tabitha approached the woman who had saved her. The two talked for a time, both of them insisting that their own heroics were nothing, and that the other was the true hero. After a time, both of them shook hands and departed to wash themselves, and then sleep. Every part of Tabitha’s body ached. Every part of her lower body needed to be washed. She couldn’t remember ever being so completely mentally and physically exhausted. She left the people to their festivities. After all, if the undead were going to continue bringing in stronger and stronger creatures, they might not have too much time left to celebrate. She said a long prayer before she went to sleep, begging and pleading for the ones who slew the shapeshifting demon to find this village. They were dead men and women if help didn't arrive soon.
  10. So I'm a little late to the party, but I've been marathoning the sweet, everloving crap out of Persona 5 these last couple weeks, and finally beat it last night. Absolutely fantastic game.

    I'm terrible at estimating when I'll complete anything, so I can't say when I'll be able to post it; but I've started working on a Persona 5 fic featuring Ann, Makoto, Futaba (best girl), and Haru (second-best girl).

    A new chapter of Journey to Arnwick may come first. I also have another project that I might release relatively soon. Sorry about the content drought, I've just been lacking motivation really badly these last several weeks, and I'm hoping that forcing myself to write some more will get me back into the swing of things.

  11. DsGSilver

    Mana Pools

    3
  12. DsGSilver

    Repconn's art

    Ayy, omo of her best skin. If you're taking suggestions, how about Futaba from Persona 5? She seems like the type who would hold it for too long because she's too into whatever game she's playing.
  13. DsGSilver

    Mana Pools

    A Let the accidents begin.
  14. DsGSilver

    Regina of the Renegade Isles.

    > Relieve yourself overboard. Also, an occasional male scene sounds like fun, since there's always been a shortage of male omo.
  15. DsGSilver

    Wet in the Wastelands II

    D