Stand Your Ground - Part 7 (Final!) (Patreon)

(.gif by Yilx) The final portion is here! I'll pull this together and give it a solid edit at some point, but enjoy the seventh and final part of "Stand Your Ground." I've attached the entire story in .pdf at the end.

I’d become complacent. Over the years and years that I’d existed here, I’d lost my motivation and creativity in this dull environment. I seduced, drained and destroyed one mortal being after another to the point where it grew to be routine. I existed. I fed, and I survived.

But this--this girl reminded me of the things I was capable of. That there was more delicious suffering than just terror and pain. She reminded me of the delicious thrill and tremendous power of betrayal and utter despair.

The runes and emblems joyfully drawn in her own blood pulsed with a growing power. Every inch of me trembled and buzzed, blazing as I still felt the last embers of the fading life smeared beneath my boot. My pet caressed the curve of my calf, her hungry lips dancing along the black leather while we both stared down her trapped, sobbing mother at my feet.

“Crush her like a bug.” Even after imprisoning and humiliating her, seeing her daughter crawl before me as my slave. After watching her suffer, forced to lick my boot even while I twisted and smeared her husband beneath it--and she immediately craved more.

The words provoked an instant response, and the spectacular result of the girl’s cruelty hit like hot lightning. The agony explosion deep in the woman’s being rippled through me, and I gasped as the arcane circle seethed.

I shrunk the woman with the slightest gesture. Her daughter stretched out on her back, giggling softly to see her tiny mother sobbing at my feet. “Goddess,” she silently mouthed while her fingers slipped between her thighs.

She was panting for me before my toes had even lifted from the ground. There was little to take from this stupid woman anymore but her life, but even that might be enough to push me over the edge.

“Squish her,” the girl moaned between short, sharp breaths. She was useful, almost fun in a way, which was unlike anyone else I’d encountered during my exile. For a split second I let her future sadden me, but just like their ephemeral little lives, it passed quickly.

“Oh my god, please, please squish her!” She moaned shamelessly while watching me lower my toes, and I understood her passion. The first crunches and snaps sent me into my own ecstasy. There was power in this suffering and this perverse, sadistic lust. I groaned myself as her body crumpled and crushed under my sole.

The circle flared to life with a burst and a flash, and I surged with sudden, unstoppable energy. My fragile, fleshy form melted away, and for the first time in this world, I felt the comfort of scale and horn and hoof.

Wood and masonry crumbled around me. The warm night breeze and bright moonlight greeted my face. The house I’d foolishly hidden in lay in ruin around my knees. I’d given up on ever regaining my form, or returning to my true home, but now I had what I wanted. Now those who’d stood against me would pay.

Humanity also deserved to suffer. I could wreak such havoc at my natural size, tearing through their city faster than inferno. I looked over the homes along the beach, seeing them as smoking rubble.

This moment wouldn’t last, though, and I had my priorities. I bent my knee and kicked through the standing walls of my house, stomping and smashing the bits that remained, pulverizing them to flattened powder. No need to leave a history behind, or that desperate twisted little female.

When I was satisfied, I found the circle and focused. I felt myself slipping through, and with a burst of brimstone, Miami was gone.

*****

My parents were gone. So were my legs. I’d lost everything I’d ever known but I didn’t let myself regret anything I’d done along the way. I’d never know how I survived being smashed and buried under that house, but it didn’t matter.

I lifted my pen from my tablet and looked over the latest coloring layer. Deep red scales, charcoal horns, and ebon black boots. I penciled in some tiny figures at her feet, crawling and bowing and licking her heels..

It didn’t matter that nobody would ever know. It didn’t matter that I’d never walk again.

My goddess was real. I’d seen her and I’d known her, and I’ll never give up praying for her return.