Die by the Sword (Mild Version)
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.
"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 two needles, 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 needles 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." 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 turning you into a trophy."
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 fate for you," Alastair grabbed the two tubes from the top of the cylinder and stepped down the ladder, "I have something else planned for you." He gave the wolf a hungry and malicious look, "Something very, very special."
"Hfft ngnn!" the eagle could feel the wolf's helpless cries vibrate through the breathing tube. He covered the tube again, feeling the suction of his breath turn from hard inhales into short gasps before finally giving out. Then he released his hand, letting the wolf breathe again.
Decro's frantic breaths resonated down the tube and Alastair smirked. "Enjoy your last few breaths, you won't have them for very long."
"Hnff?" the wolf's panicked cries began emanating from the resin cylinder. Ignoring them, the eagle knelt down at an electrical pump and connected the breathing tube to it before flicking it on. There was a humming sound and it began pumping clear resin into his breathing tube.
Embedded in the solid resin, Decro felt his airflow cut off and his eyes darted around in fear. He was only aware of what was happening once the viscous resin entered his throat. He choked as the pressure shoved the liquid into him, filling his stomach. His body wanted to expand to accommodate the fluid within him but his resin encasement made that impossible. With nowhere else to go, the resin forced itself down into his intestines.
The wolf's body felt heavier and heavier as it was pumped full of polymer. A sense of permanence began to set in his mind.
He didn't want to end up like this.
His eyes explored the room desperately. Surely someone would burst through the doors and save him. Or by some miracle, Alastair would have a change of heart and set him free.
But with his body encased by resin on the outside as well as the inside, he was grasping to the last, frail strands of hope.
"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 the liquid into his lungs. If not for the solid resin holding his eyelids in place, his eyes would have widened in fear. Instead, his frenzied fear was masked by the serenity of his pose and expression. Only a thin, almost-invisible trickle of tears served to give away his emotion.
He was drowning. He was drowning in the same fluids that paralyzed him in his pose. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, bumping against his solidifying lungs. The insides of his chest were burning from the lack of air. His vision began to turn white as he tried to hang on to his consciousness.
But the inside of his body began to feel heavier and heavier, and so did his mind. Decro's eyes glazed over as he began to slip away. The white in his vision turned into black and soon the wolf was out cold.
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Decro slowly came to.
Was he dead? Was this heaven?
But the sight of the walls of the room through his resin prison only told him he was still cruelly stuck in his permanent pose. Large, industrial radiant heaters stood around his pillar, bathing him in heat.
He looked around the room to find Alastair back in his leather seat, watching him with a smug look on his face. There was an odd device beside the eagle that was about a metre tall. Dials and switches covered its front, and there was a cylinder on its side with a red liquid dripping into it. From the device led a red tube. Decro's eyes followed the tube along the ground, going up the side of the resin column, and up through its top.
He wanted to groan. To plead for help. But the resin in his throat had frozen his vocal cords. And even if he could use his voice, what would he ask for? The impossible release of his resin-bound body? Or should he give up and ask for death.
Decro let out a mental whimper.
"I see you're awake," Alastair declared, "You're alive because this machine is pumping oxygen and nutrients into your body. At the same time, it's going to drain out your blood into this tank here, replacing it with the clear, synthetic biofluid. Red is quite the unsightly colour against your white fur, don't you agree?"
The wolf did not.
"Now," the eagle continued, "The resin isn't fully hardened yet, so if I wanted to, I can still get you out of there."
Decro's eyes turned to the eagle pleadingly, begging for escape.
"But why would I want to undo all the marvellous things we have done today?" Alastair guffawed, "No, no. There's no sense in setting you free. I'll let you bake in this heat for a few more hours to let the resin set. Once that happens, there's no way to get you out of the resin without the possibility of decapitating you as the column fractures."
The eagle got off his chair and began walking around the resin-embedded wolf. "But don't worry, I have plans for you. My original plan was to kill you. Perhaps in another universe, I would've impaled you with my exquisite sword collection to make a wolf kebab.
"But death...death is too easy a way out for you," Alastair grinned, "As I mentioned earlier, your father has oh so many rivals. Rivals who would like to have their revenge by keeping you, the son of their sworn enemy, as their living trophy."
Decro whimpered fearfully. His eyes were glistening with tears of distraught as he took in his new reality.
"So what I'm going to do is to hold an auction," the eagle continued, stroking the smooth resin surface with a tender caress, "And I'm going to invite all the enemies your dad has made over the years to bid for you. I daresay you'll make me a lot of money."
A smirk crossed the eagle's face.
"Best case, your new owner cuts off your life support and you die."
"Worse case, he makes you live like this. Forever."
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The resin pillar of Decro was turned into a decorative column atop a marble plinth. On top of him was a matching marble cover that hid his life support. Its tubes leading into him was clear in the polymer. From the outside, it looked as if it were a lifeless wolf suspended in clear resin, much like a fly in amber. Only his darting eyes revealed that he was still alive. Painfully alive.
"Three hundred thousand, three hundred thousand for the resin wolf," the auctioneer announced.
"Eight hundred thousand!" someone else called out.
Decro was on a stage in a small auction hall. His pillar was angled so as to give the audience a view of his "best side", according to Alastair. Sixteen people were seated in front of the stage, each with a numbered auction paddle that they raised into the air as they increased their bids. Including the auctioneer at the front, two guards on either side of the door, and Alastair who was seated at the back and watching the room in glee, that made for twenty people in the room.
Twenty people who would see him sold off to one lucky bidder.
The bids rose.
A million. A million and a half. Three million.
Decro had never felt so helpless in his life. He was being auctioned off like a sculpture in an art auction house. His value as a person reduced to mere numbers in cold cash.
"Fifteen million!" another bidder shouted.
Just then, the double doors at the back of the hall were flung open and someone stormed in. "Where's my son?" the intruder shouted. The auction came to a halt as heads turned towards the doors.
"Dad?" Decro thought as his eyes fell on the newcomer, "Dad!"
"That's my son!" his father pointed at the resin column and marched for it. The two guards grabbed him and pulled him back. He resisted but the guards were too strong for him as they dragged him towards the door.
"Hey! What did you do to my son? Why is he like that?" he screamed. Fear was beginning to show in his voice.
Decro's heart was beating fast. If his dad got to him, there was hope for his escape. "Dad!" he yelled in his mind, wishing he had use of his voice, "Dad! Please, help!"
Alastair stepped in front of the wolf's father with a smug sneer.
"Alastair! How dare you! What is the meaning of this?"
"Ah," the eagle brushed his questions off nonchalantly, "You have quite the nerve to be here, after all the atrocities you've committed against the people in this room."
The wolf's father looked around the room and a look of recognition flashed across his face. "You," he snorted, "You scheming scum, all of you! Just to get back at me for your petty revenge, you do this to my son?" He struggled against the guards, wanting to give the eagle a punch but the guards had him in a vicelike grip.
"I won't deny that we feel a fair bit of...resentment for your actions," Alastair grinned, "But what will you do? Go to the police? I daresay, if the law was brought into the picture, I think they'll have a lot to say about the business practices you've done in the past."
"You—" Decro's father started but words failed him, "Gah! Business is business! This is my son we're talking about! We can discuss this later, but you let him go now!"
"Dad! Let me out! Please!" the wolf watched the scene from inside his resin prison.
"Too late, he's already dead," Alastair declared.
"As I said, he's dead," the eagle repeated, pointing towards Decro, "See for yourself."
"No...no..." his father collapsed to the ground. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. "Why..."
"You put a lot of our companies out of business with your unlawful deeds. Half of us witnessed our companies fall. The remaining ones had to downsize to keep up. Many people lost their livelihoods."
"Reflect on your actions," Alastair ignored his groans, "And don't ever come back here if you want to keep your illegal doings quiet."
"Let me see him! Let me see my son for the last time!"
"Dad! I'm still alive! Let me out!"
"You're not in a place to bargain," Alastair stood his ground. "Besides," the eagle bent down to the face the kneeling intruder as he slowly said, "Your. Son. Is. Dead."
Decro's father closed his eyes conceding and cried, but the eagle motioned to the guards and they began pulling him up. He complied, slowly following the guards out of the hall.
"Come back! Dad! I'm still here! Please!"
But his father never heard him as he was led away.
"No hard feelings," Alastair declared as the doors to the auction door closed after the guards, "No hard feelings."
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~ End ~