Die by the Sword
Written by TwistedSnakes
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An arctic wolf grunted in the darkness of the room. His body was aching as he got into a kneeling position. The business suit he was wearing was scuffed and torn, and his head throbbed as if he had been hit at the back of his skull.
Decro groaned as he unsteadily got to his feet. Under the dim moonlight coming through the glass-paned window, he could just make out the details of the room. The floor of the room was covered with a worn carpet from wall to wall and fleur-de-lis wallpaper plastered the walls.
Limping across the room as he tried to ignore the sharp pain in his left leg, he made his way to the sturdy oak door and turned on its handle. Locked. The metal grill installed over the windows also contributed to his confinement.
It was just as Decro suspected: he'd been kidnapped. He remembered leaving the office building of his father's company at the end of the day. Then he got into his sleek, black car. The chauffeur then drove off, following a route that wasn't the usual one home. He demanded to know what was going on, only to find that his usual chauffeur was replaced by a smirking shark. The doors were locked, refusing to open to Decro's efforts. The shark put on a gas mask and a sleeping gas filled the car.
Then he woke up here.
Decro rolled his eyes. This would be his third kidnapping now. Perhaps if his father didn't give in so readily to his kidnappers' demands, he wouldn't be facing so many abductions. Although with the level disposable income that they had, his father wouldn't mind letting go of some of his wealth in exchange for his son's safety. Decro grunted. Maybe that money would be better invested in more bodyguards. He would have to talk to his father about this.
Just then, there was the sound of the door unlocking and two furs stepped in. One of them was a tiger, the other a bear; both of them were dressed in a suit. Decro knew not to argue with them or fight back. After all, these weren't the people making the decisions. Resisting would only get him hurt.
His two captors pushed him out of the room, guiding him down poshly-furnished corridors and into a large bathroom. Its polished white tiles and large shower cubicle could almost compare to Decro's bathroom back at home.
"Why are we here?" the wolf asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Strip," the bear ordered, ignoring his question.
"What?"
"Strip," the bear repeated, "Now."
Without waiting for Decro to comply, the bear grabbed him by his shoulder and tore the wolf's shirt off his body.
"Hey! Hands off!" the wolf protested.
The bear let go and stood back. "Strip," he ordered again.
Decro begrudgingly obliged, taking off his shoes and socks, followed by his belt and pants until he was standing in the middle of the bathroom in his trunks, feeling somewhat vulnerable.
"Done," he declared annoyedly.
"All the way," the bear demanded.
Decro furrowed his brows but did not protest. He pulled off his trunks to reveal his naked body, sculpted from the workout routines that his personal fitness trainer had him do.
The bear and tiger pushed him into the shower cubicle. The bear grabbed the shower head and turned on the tap, spraying the wolf's fur with a jet of warm water. The tiger grabbed a brush and began scrubbing his fur with soap.
Decro was taken aback. Why would his kidnappers want to wash him up?
"Wh-what's this for?" he grumbled as he tried to ignore the tiger's washing of his intimates.
"He wants you clean before you meet him," the bear explained.
"'He'? Who's 'he'?"
"The one who brought you here."
That didn't answer the question but Decro gave up trying to get any form of useful information out of the stone wall of a bear. Once the two captors were satisfied he was sufficiently clean, the bear turned off the shower. Decro was pushed out of the shower cubicle and the tiger began to towel him dry. The bear flicked a switch and vents began blasting Decro with gusts of warm, dry air.
His fur was soon dry and the jets of air was turned off. The bear took up a brush and began brushing his fur down until it was silky smooth. Decro stood stiffly and let himself be brushed, watching the bear with suspicious eyes. The bear didn't seem to notice his expression, or if he did, he didn't show it.
A pair of tight, compression trunks were handed to him. "Wear," the bear demanded. Decro complied reluctantly. The material hugged his crotch, accentuating his privates in a generous bulge. His thighs were squeezed by the firm material and the back of the trunks cupped his round rump. A slit in the back allowed his tail to slip through.
"Follow," the bear instructed, leading Decro out of the bathroom with the tiger following behind.
The wolf's bulge shifted in front of him as he walked down the corridor. The cool air of the mansion made him feel particularly vulnerable. Decro allowed himself some deep breaths; he just had to face the person who had arranged the kidnapping and arrange a ransom, then he could go free.
He was brought to a large hall furnished with expensive furniture and crystal chandeliers. The room felt like a ballroom that had been converted into a workshop. In the middle of the room was an eagle sitting in a posh leather chair, dressed smartly in a business suit with one clawed hand cupped over the other. Behind him was a tall object hidden under brown canvas and a workshop crane stood beside it.
A chair was placed in front of the eagle and Decro was forced into it. The bear began tying the wolf's wrists behind his back.
"Careful," the eagle nonchalantly waved his hand, "I don't want to damage his soft skin."
Decro glared sternly at him. His arms were secured to the chair and his ankles were tied to its legs. After they were done, the bear and the tiger stood on either side behind him. Then there was silence in the room.
"So," the eagle broke the silence after a couple of seconds, "You must be wondering why I brought you here."
"Ransom money," Decro replied curtly, "If I were to hazard a guess."
"Ransom money?" the eagle guffawed. "Boy," he spread his arms to either side of him as if to draw the wolf's attention to the mansion, "Money is the last thing I need."
"Then what did you bring me here for?" Decro demanded, trying to stifle the growl in his throat.
"Decro Castor," the eagle's voice dripped with malice, "Do you know who I am?"
"No," the wolf replied bluntly.
"Well, you should," the eagle smirked, "I'm Alastair Redwood. See, just like your father, I own a tech company. Many of us did. But we were here first. Your father only entered the market seven years back. 'Diversification', I think he called it."
"Get straight to the point," Decro demanded.
"Patience, young man. You have a temper just like your dad," Alastair brushed him off before continuing, "Anyway, back to your father. He didn't see fit to earn his place in the market like everyone else. Instead, he bought over existing tech companies, some of which were owned by friends of mine. They were the lucky ones.
"He ripped those companies apart, gutting them of their technological know-how to make his products while he demolished what was left. And as if that weren't enough, he undercut our prices and presented our clients with special offers if they were to break off their deals with us.
"He ruined the industry for us. Me. My fellow CEOs in the technological industry. Your dad is a monster," the eagle seethed, getting worked up over his exposition.
"My father is a businessman. It's how the economy works," Decro answered coldly before smugly adding, "No hard feelings."
"Oh? No hard feelings?" Alastair got off his seat angrily. Then he stopped himself and smirked. "Sure, no hard feelings." He walked around to where Decro was tied up, sliding his claws through the wolf's soft white and grey fur as he walked around the back of the chair.
"There are a lot of people angry at your father. I'm the only one who's acting on everyone's collective anger. And I'm going to do it through you," Alastair sneered as he enunciated the last word.
"What do you want from me?" Decro indignantly shook off the eagle's hand from his shoulder.
"Ah, I thought you'd never ask," the eagle grinned. He nodded towards the bear who untied the ropes, grabbing the wolf with a vice-like grip on his upper arms and pushing him forward. The eagle strode over to the tall object under the canvas and pulled the sheet down. Beneath the cover was a cylindrical tank, just slightly wider than a person's shoulder width.
Alastair opened the front half of the glass cylinder and the bear shoved Decro into it. Two clear tubes were dangling from the roof of the tank. One of them was tipped with a needle, and the bear grabbed it, piercing it into a vein on his left upper arm.
"A-ah, fuck!" the wolf yelped at the sharp pain. The other tube was shoved into his mouth and a plastic frame lodged it behind his teeth. The tank was closed, trapping him in the clear prison. Decro wanted to rip the tube out of his mouth and get the needle out of his skin but the look in the eagle's eyes warned against that.
"Good," Alastair nodded, "Keep them in if you want to live." A smile spread across the eagle's face, "Well, live a little longer, that is." Without warning, a warm liquid began filling from the bottom of the tank. It was clear and viscous, sticking to the fur of his feet.
"Gah!" Decro protested, "What's this?"
"Resin," the eagle smirked.
"What the—" the wolf yelled, "Let me out!" He banged on the glass, demanding his release. Suddenly, there was a cold feeling spreading through his arm as a mild anaesthetic was pumped through his body, dulling his senses. The wolf slumped back against the wall of the cylinder and his knees buckled, resting them against the opposite glass wall. His arms dangled limply against the glass wall that he was leaning against.
"Gnng..." Decro groaned lethargically as the liquid rose up around him. Decro's mind felt cloudy. He wanted to fight back, to try and escape but the anaesthetic in his veins was overriding his movements. The polymer began soaking the fur around his knees, keeping its soft texture within the thick fluid.
Then the warm resin began touching the sides of his hips and the tips of his fingers. His hand twitched as he tried to move. It was almost as if he was trying to navigate the controls to his body through a dense fog, only to miss each time he tried.
The wolf's eyes darted around lethargically, a feeble reflection of the terror he felt inside. His abs were coated next, then his chest. The dense resin began lifting his body up the tube, suspending him in the clear polymer. The resin left his body in his relaxed pose, leaning gracefully backwards with his arms hanging limply behind his back.
The resin around his feet slowly began to harden, anchoring him in place as the liquid rose over his head, forcing him to resort to breathing through the tube to survive. He wanted to panic but he was fighting an uphill battle against the anaesthetic. He wanted to struggle but the resin only held him back where the sedative could not.
Within minutes, the tank was completely full. Then he was left to set. Slowly but surely, the resin began to harden around him.
"Mff..." Decro groaned sleepily. The drug was slowly wearing off but it was too late to try to struggle; his body was already encased in hard resin. It hadn't fully solidified, but it was firm enough to keep him immobilized. Decro's eyes were stuck half-open, giving him a dreamy expression despite the desperation he felt inside. The bear opened the tank, lifting its top off to allow the workshop crane, manned by the tiger, to raise the block of resin.
Decro was moved to the middle of a white tarp on the ground and the crane lowered him there. Then the tiger moved the crane out of the way, leaving the resin-embedded wolf to stand in the middle of the room. The tubes were invisible in the clear resin, providing him with his only source of air.
"You can leave now," he waved the bear and tiger out of the room before turning back to Decro.
"Ah," the eagle admired the shapely form of the wolf, visually caressing his muscular curves, ample bulge, and round butt. "There's a reason I had you cleaned up for this. Preserved for permanent perfection," he grinned in satisfaction.
"Hfft!" Decro tried to speak through his jaws that were locked in place. He tried to move his muscles but the resin didn't give.
Alastair picked up a ladder and placed it beside Decro. "So I'll get straight to the point," he explained, "I'm going to kill you."
"Mfft?"
The eagle climbed the ladder until he was at the top of the cylinder. "And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," he continued.
Inside the resin, Decro was frantically pleading for his life. He wanted to struggle. He wanted to scream. But all he could do was to yelp helplessly through his breathing tube that was literally his lifeline. The eagle grabbed the other end of the breathing tube and placed his palm over its opening, letting the wolf's distraught breaths create a suction against his hand.
Decro's lungs started to burn and he started to feel giddy. The resin felt constricting against the frantic rise and fall of his chest and it wasn't long before unconsciousness came for him. Suddenly, the airflow returned, flooding his lungs with cool oxygen.
"Asphyxiation would be too merciful a death for you," Alastair stepped down the ladder, "I have something else planned for you." He dragged a rack of swords over to the resin column and picked one up. "Something very, very special."
He aimed the tip of the sword at the wolf's thigh and testing it against the resin surface. The tip pierced the firm resin and he guided it deeper until it pressed against the wolf's right thigh. Decro's eyes darted over to the eagle, hoping against hope that he wouldn't do what the wolf guessed he would do.
Then there was a sharp pain as the blade pierced the skin and dug into his flesh. It tore the tissue, sending burning agony up the wolf's body. It cut through him like a knife through butter. Soft, fleshy butter.
"Ugnn..." Decro groaned. The blade was pushed deeper, sliding against the side of his femur before exiting the other side of his leg until the sword was hilted in the resin. He twitched his muscles, feeling the foreign sensation of metal within his flesh.
A warm liquid was seeping out through the wound. He was bleeding. The blood dripped down the resin column, staining the tarp red. Out of the corner of his eyes, Decro could see his blood spread out around him.
"That's just one," Alastair smirked.
"Hfft!" the wolf pleaded but the eagle only picked up a second sword. Alastair pushed it into the resin faster this time, only slowing down as it pierced the wolf's flesh only to savour his agony.
It went into his left arm, sliding between his ulna and radial bones before exiting the other side. It then dug into his right arm, similarly scraping against his bones as it tore through his skin on the other side. The cold metal seemed to drain his body heat and sapped his physical strength. The wound was flooding his body with another wave of pain, clouding his vision with red.
Decro whimpered into his breathing tube. He didn't want to die here. Another sword was pushed in from the front, pressing in until it touched the bridge of his left foot and hit his bone.
"Mnng..." the wolf sobbed. There was a pressure followed by the sound of cracking bone as it smashed his bone and exited through the sole of his foot. Blood stained the swords that pierced his body, dripping out the entrance points of the blades.
The eagle climbed up the ladder with a sword in his hand. His eyes caught the frantic gaze of the wolf and he smirked back. The sword was pointed at his chest and Decro whimpered. Was he going to die now?
The sword went into the resin but wasn't aimed for his heart. Instead, it pierced the fleshy concavity in his right shoulder. It would've exited out his back if not for his shoulder blade. The eagle, however, wasn't to be swayed. He raised his hand in the air and crossed his palms. With a swift strike, he slammed his palms onto the handle of the blade, shattering Decro's shoulder blade and sending the length of the sword through his body.
Picking up one more sword, Alastair went around the back. Decro could feel the vibrations of the sword entering the resin. Then the blade vertically pierced his lower back, narrowly missing his spine. It dug upwards into him, piercing his intestines.
Alastair revelled in the agony and cruelty he was inflicting on the son of his worst enemy. Every sword, every impalement was an outward expression of the anger he had held in for years.
Decro cried weakly from the pain in his abdomen. His insides felt like they were being stretched and torn apart as the sword exited his body just below his sternum. He could make out the blood-stained blade from the corner of his eye. The eagle viciously twisted the handle slightly, digging into the wolf's flesh and making him yelp. Decro tensed his muscles as if trying to hold his body together.
He had to hold on.
He had to survive.
He didn't want to die at the hands of a worthless competitor.
Another sword was pushed into the resin from his right side, aimed directly at his face. It went into his right cheek, between his jawbone, and out his left cheek. His pain showed in his eyes. Pain that he unsuccessfully tried to drown out.
His heart was beating furiously in his chest and his breaths were shallow. He was fearful. Very fearful. It was the terrifying helplessness of watching one's impending doom, with no way to resist. No way to escape. His mind was screaming for help where his body could not. Screaming for relief. For respite. For release.
The eagle was down to his last two swords. He picked one up and circled the resin-encased wolf, looking for his next entry point. Then he pressed it into the resin, piercing the wolf's left obliques. It dug into his intestines until the blade of the previous sword blocked its path with a clink.
"Hnft!" Decro winced in pain. Alastair smirked as he grabbed the handle of the sword tightly, angling it up until its tip was above the blade of the previous sword before plunging it deeper. It exited between the gaps in the wolf's ribs and out his right side.
Alastair picked up the final sword and climbed up the ladder. The sword was vertically aimed at the space between the wolf's eyes and pushed into the resin. A shiver ran up Decro's spine. This was it.
The tip of the last sword dug into the thin layer of flesh between his skin and skull. The eagle applied a bit more pressure, creating a cracking sound as it pierced the frontal bone of his skull.
"Yip!" Decro yelped in pain. White flashed across his eyes and searing agony flooded his body. The torment of eight blades in his body was too much for him to bear and more tears flowed from the corner of his eyes.
He didn't want to die. Not here. Not now.
The eagle stopped. He didn't want to kill the wolf. Not yet, anyway. Grabbing the two tubes from the top of the cylindrical pillar, he got off the ladder and connected them to an electrical pump on the ground.
"Now to preserve you forever," Alastair grinned as he flicked the switch on the pump. There was a humming sound and it began pumping clear resin into the tubes. Embedded in the solid resin, Decro felt his airflow cut off as the liquid was pumped straight into his throat. He choked as it began filling his stomach and lungs.
Then another sensation in his arm caused him to panic even more. Warm liquid resin began to flow up his arm and towards his heart. His heart began to fill up with the polymer as it tried to pump the viscous liquid to the rest of his body.
"Hnnn..." he pleaded feebly as he felt the insides of his body clog up with the solidifying resin. His survival instincts forced him to take a much-needed breath, only to suck more resin into his lungs.
Not even a miracle could save him now.
"The resin will set properly over the next hour or so. You'll make a marvellous trophy," the eagle explained before turning evilly towards the dying wolf, "I'll auction you off. And I'm sure a lot of your father's competitors would be more than willing to bid for you."
Decro's eyelids were still stuck open by the resin, revealing his glazed eyes beneath. It was getting harder to hold on; he was gradually fading away.
"Who knows, perhaps your father would be among those bidding for you. So he can put your body to rest," the eagle slowly climbed up the ladder with a smug grin on his face, "Either way, you'll fetch me a high price on the market."
The wolf could feel the last fragments of his life force fade out. A blanket of coldness washed over his body and his burning lungs felt soothed. His body was accepting his inevitable death but his mind wasn't willing to let go. He let out a soft, feeble growl as his consciousness slipped away.
"Goodbye, Decro Castor," Alastair bid farewell as he grabbed the handle of the final sword. With a swift motion, he plunged it into the resin. It went right through the front of the wolf's forehead and out the back of the skull, impaling his head.
"Goodbye."
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~ End ~
