Drip

Drip

Drip
Nocent quietly soaked in the dilapidated antique bathtub.......the tub's waterline was near even with her chin. This chamber far beneath the IronHelm Flats was quite dim. Two thick candles resting by the tub, illuminated the baneful warrior's head which was reclining backwards. It was eerily silent save for the regimented "dripping" sound that persisted in its monotonous song.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Nocent shifted in the water. Her long muscular body was barely contained by the tub's porcelain boundaries. Her strong hand descended beneath the surface and stroked the several chunks of raw limestone which she had placed at the tub's bottom. The inner rage was unspoken now.......Giminicka was in deep thought.

The Anti-Scathachian truly loved to read.........she always had.
Here in a more advanced city like RhyDin, the fools went so far as to print a "newsletter", entitled The Oracle, to inform its miserable citizens about the goings on in the wild urban setting around them. Giminicka's artful masterpieces had been posted in this Oracle several times. It amused her to read their writings......to see profoundly into their panic......and to marvel at their outrageously false explanations.

But today......while lounging in this old, once-grand tub, she did not read about herself.......no. Nocent had taken this copy of The Oracle from a pitiable homeless man last night. Her heavy boot-heel caved his skull in effortlessly. That crisp sound of broken bones coupled with that slick feeling of brain matter being ground against one's person were indescribable.

Killing destitute people was so sorrowfully easy in a putrid city like this. Who truly cared? Besides the Scathachian whores and their asinine little friends playing "the patrol game"..........who really cared?

The new governor, Lady Kitty Helston, promised to be more in touch with the underprivileged and the meek.......laughable. That false pledge will last all of five minutes after she settles into power. Fact was......a city like this loved to forget about its mistakes......its failures. Nocent was doing them all a favor.....though it was not done for them at all.

Drip Drip Drip
Drip
Drip Drip

The melody changed its rhythm a bit.

Inside of this month's paper was a curious little message. Yes, it was in fact a message. As her emerald eyes carefully read over the inane stories and results of a meaningless gubernatorial election, Giminicka stopped to focus on only two small sections.

The first, of course, was the comical obituary of Jewell's fallen lover, Skyler Chamberland......she knew that the little whore must be so overwhelmed with grief......tears lulling her to sleep each night. Ironic....the poor cheerless Ravenlock and her children would be crying so much harder before she was finally through with them.

It had been some time since they engaged in that small confrontation in the shadowy alleyway on that fateful evening.......yet still nothing. The other Scathachains, nevertheless, were completely clueless as to who Rae was speaking to in the dead of night........or who possibly could be behind the recent attack on their reputation and their city.

The Drowess had not shared Giminicka's return with them. Interesting. Perhaps that old seed within Umrae'diira, planted there by the very nature of her wicked race, was beginning to at long last show itself.........that innate drive for malice and darkness. She longed to touch Rae?s ebony flesh again....to taste it........to orgasm with her as one intertwined mesh of sweat-soaked legs, breasts, arms, lips.......

It was both Giminicka and the Beast who longed to have Umrae'diira once more. She was the most enigmatic of the Sisters.........the one most likely to shed her Scathachian title and come back to the embrace of the Void. The priestess of Bhaal grew aroused within the tub.

Giminicka was going to follow through with her intentions. She would soon unveil herself to the Sisters....but not as one might expect. Would she war with them openly? Perhaps wait for them at their Sanctuary and then slaughter them one at a time?

No.

The prodigal daughter of Scathach would return.........a "lost Sister".....spared from the smoldering flames for a greater purpose......to redeem herself in the eyes of heaven and with her fellow Scathachians.
She was unfit to enter the holy ground of the blessed Sanctuary.......until she had regained her station of Judge.

Many innocents had died on the night of her arrogant transgression.....and now Giminicka must make everything right once again. That lie would cover nearly everything......even down to providing a viable explanation to the bitch Trixie on why her scent was a bit tinged......she had, after all, greatly sinned those long six years ago.....and true penance takes time. Time before she could walk upon the consecrated ground and call herself Eris one more. Giminicka inhumanly grinned as she ran her right hand over her bare, succulent breasts and then traced the powerfully destructive muscles in her left arm.

She would rejoin those self-sanctified whores on one final mission which would culminate in their own destruction. The brutal murders would of course continue after she rejoined their ilk........not all by her hand necessarily, but they would rage on due to the new guest she was preparing to invite here.

Indeed, a new guest was being called forth......in addition to her pristine admirer who seemed to be dwelling within the blackness of The RhyDin Cemetery. Yes, a new visitor to help deal with the likes of Lucien Mallorek?s supernatural lover, Alysia Skye.....and any other little maggot who wished to lend their so-called magical talents to the fray. At least they would be counted amongst the valiant as their torn bodies were feasted upon.

So here it all was......Giminicka would come back to her ?family?. Then she, the Scathachian Nation, and the Sisters? loyal allies would solve this atrocious mystery together ...........and then......when the revelation was revealed in all its ghastly truth........all of those haughty little sluts and their precious friends and lovers would die agonizing deaths.
Perhaps, with proper care, she might even be able to sway Rae to the insidious nature of her subterranean race........and once more they could find a common ground on which to celebrate their instinctive hunger for killing and for carnal lust. Perhaps not. Either way......it was agreed.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Giminicka?s predatory eyes slowly glanced upwards to the two mutilated bodies which were suspended by their feet with barbed wire above the old tub. Both were larger men, neither of which still retained their eyes, their hearts, or their genitals. The mundane dripping sound continued as the blood from their widely torn throats and wrists continued to supply the tub?s confines with just enough ?water? in which to bathe the goddess-like physique of Bhaal?s unholy emissary. Limestone is so wonderfully adept at keeping copious amounts of blood from coagulating........helps preserve the fun for as long as possible.

The gory rain continued to trickle down onto her head, and then splashed into the grisly tub. As she gazed deeply into their empty orbital sockets......her nipples grew firm beneath the blood-spattered water in which she was soaking her muscular body.
Nocent couldn?t help but think that one celestial evening, in the near future, she would be amorously staring up at the slaughtered corpses of dear Isuelt.....Trixie......Jenai......Eddie......Reeni.....Mirage.......Janet.......Lamia...........and even her beloved Umrae'diira.
And as they say.........sometimes the mere thought is almost as sweet as the prize itself.