Ogre Day (Female Ogre Transformation Story)

[Mytransformations]

Ogre Day by My Transformations. Summary: A young woman is transformed as a ritualistic punishment. Enjoy!

Day One:

The light of the dawn pierced my thin drapes like daggers, rousing me from my restless slumber. I could smell cinnamon wafting down the hall; the intoxicating aroma made my mouth water.

Gingerly, I pulled myself out of my narrow bed. I felt light headed and my skin crawled, but I knew that I could not hide away from the day by burying my head under the covers. The thought wasn’t tempting in the least - I’d just worry away in there.

I changed out of my nearly translucent white nightgown into a billowy, silk pastel colored dress that floated over my bony, slender frame. Today was the day and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

With a determined, measured sense of calm, I walked downstairs to face my aunt and uncle. They had raised me ever since my parents had been killed in the Monster War during my childhood.

My uncle couldn’t bear to look at me directly. He simply stared down at his feet from his chair, as if avoiding the sight of me would cause me to dematerialize. I was greeted by my aunt bearing my favorite treat, cinnamon muffins. Despite the delicious smell, I worried that my nervous stomach couldn’t bear a single one, and I politely refused.

“It is your favorite, I insist,” my aunt said in her characteristically warbled voice. I bowed to her wishes and took a seat at the table. I took a delicate utensil and judiciously carved off a single slice from the smallest muffin in the bunch, making sure to eat it with the proper side of the tined utensil facing up.

While my aunt and uncle consumed the rest of my breakfast, they engaged in idle small talk. The weather was mentioned on more than one occasion. The new curtains on the neighbor's house were held in disdain. And several other topics of no great importance were discussed at length, all while I sighed and nervously chewed on my lower lip.

Was this done to keep their mind off of what was to happen to me today? Or was it a futile effort to help distract me from it? I didn’t know, and I did not care. All that mattered to me was that when I was sentenced, nobody spoke up. No friends, no family. Certainly not them - not my aunt and uncle. They sat in silence, as though speaking up might risk their own hides. Which it could have - I’ll readily concede that.

Eventually, the ornately carved wooden wall clock struck the time. A small blue bird emerged from it, crowing out the hour of my demise. I didn’t try to fight or delay it. I simply hung my head low and walked to the door, taking small, graceful steps. My aunt, uncle and I grimly walked on the cobblestone path to the center of the village, where what appeared to be the entire population was awaiting in a large circle. I stepped into the center of it, my head bowed deeply and my honey blonde tresses partially obscuring my face.

“Selena, daughter of Roland. For your crime of disrespect to an Elder, you have been sentenced to suffer Ruination,” the judge called out in a taciturn, resolute voice.

In our society, the most important quality a woman can possess is her beauty. My punishment was to have that beauty taken from me, in a ritual called ‘the Ruining.’ It was a relatively rare punishment. I had never seen it performed, so I knew not what to expect. I did know there was a homeless woman who lived at the edge of town who had experienced it when I was just a baby. She had wrapped herself in rags and never spoke to anyone after it happened, and ate by scavenging for food from garbage. As children, we called her “The Hag,” and she had a prominent role in all the scary stories children told each other.

Two strong men wearing black hoods clapped chains to my wrists and stretched the chains towards large stone pillars at the edges of the circle, effectively tying me to the center. My shoulders ached as my arms were yanked nearly out of their sockets.

Dead ahead of me was the judge - the tallest man in the village. Impossibly tall and thin, with a long, protruding nose, he was a spectral figure. The judge pulled a curved, wicked looking ceremonial dagger from his ropes and deliberately made a flick on my forehead.

“Selena,” the judge began again. “You have come to this gathering in the spirit of humility and obedience. I take this into consideration in my sentence,” he said, as he produced a glowing green vial from his pocket. The revealing of this key item in the ritual elicited a wave of murmurs from the surrounding villagers. Normally stored in a secured vault, the vial was only to be brought out on days like today. “Three drops,” he said in what I assumed was an ominous tone. He uncorked the vial, instantly unleashing an overwhelming odor. My eyes stung and I could hear several onlookers start to wretch.

He held the vial above my forehead and judiciously allowed three drops to fall directly onto the gash he had cut into me. The drops stung terribly, and I howled with pain. What surprised me more than anything was the sound of my cries of anguish. They were deeper, louder, and far more animalistic than I had come to expect from my own voice.

I could hear the skin around my forehead start to sizzle and blister, and I could feel the pain coursing throughout my body, but I was aware of little else. The villagers, meanwhile, were going wild. They were hooting and gasping and screaming. One young girl even fainted.

“What’s happening to me?” I finally asked the crowd in desperation as my body began to tingle. The judge had turned his back and was walking away from me. The two men who had chained me in place were removing the chains, and as soon as I was free I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to the river at the edge of town.

The river was a rushing, churning beast – as it always was this time of year. Too fast for children to play in, it was obviously not an ideal spot to find a reflection. But it did the job. As I stared into it, I could see my reflection staring back at me in choppy, short bursts.

What I saw caused me to let out another howl, this one far mournful than the last. The raw, sizzling, bleeding wound on my forehead was not the end of my ‘Ruination,’ not by a long shot. My brows were heavier, my eyes darker with larger pupils, my skin a faint shade of green and very tough looking. My teeth were so large they were poking out of my lips, and they were quite sharp. My nostrils were larger, my jaw longer - everything was different. As I looked down, I saw that my frame overall was wider - my billowy dress was fit more snugly against a larger and fatter body. My boyish breasts had filled out into heavy teardrops, and my formerly flat tummy bulged against my silk.

“Ogre blood,” my aunt explained. “That’s what gave you.” She was the only one who had followed me to the river. The rest of the villagers had fled at the fight of me.

“You knew this was to be my fate the entire time,” I snarled at her “and you said nothing at the trial? Nothing this morning when I was sentenced?”

“It was not my place,” she said defensively. “It is your job to live what you’ve done and who you are.”

“Who I am?” I asked incredulously.

“That monster you see in the river,” my aunt began, “that is who you shall be, for the rest of your natural life.”

With an angry roar, I punched the spot of the river containing my reflection. Water sprayed everywhere, but after a few moments, the current settled again and the image of me as a monster returned. All I was now was a reflection of the monsters who had invaded our homeland.

I started crying, but when my tears hit the river, they had as much efficacy upon my image as my fists. Everything about my future lay in ruins. Any chance I had for love was forever destroyed. Any chance of even friendships was dead. People would stare at me in horror and flee before me.

After what seemed like hours, I rose. My aunt was still there, bearing a white robe. I wrapped myself in it and followed her back to her house, which was empty.

Along with way, we passed a small gathering of townsfolk. It was nothing out of the ordinary – a thief was getting his hand cut off. As soon as they saw me approaching, though, the gatherers screamed and ran. The thief, who had managed to stay conscious while his right hand was amputated, fainted at the sight of me.

When I arrived, I ran to my room and fell on my bed, hearing a horrifying creaking sound as I landed upon it. It didn’t take long for me to cry myself to sleep.

Day Two:

Once again, the sharp rays of dawn roused me from sleep. Once again, I could smell cinnamon in the air. As I rolled out of bed, I saw my hand - my perfectly normal looking hand. I looked down at my body and it was as it always had been. I pulled on my dress and ran to my aunt and uncle, laughing with joy.

Both my aunt and uncle gazed upon me with concern etched into their faces.

“Glad you’re taking it well,” my aunt said diplomatically.

“Taking what well? I’m all better,” I shouted with glee. “I can’t believe it. It’s over. It’s like it never happened.”

“Like what never happened?” My aunt asked, looking more frightened by the minute.

“My Ruination. Look! I’m all better now,” I said, trying to get them to understand.

“Of course it’s like it didn’t happen, it’s happening today. In just a short time,” my aunt said.

“No, I did it yesterday,” I said in a sing song voice. “And I’ve been healed!”

“You must have been having a dream about it,” my aunt said softly. “It is today.”

“No...” I said, my voice trailing off. “No, it can’t be. It was so vivid!”

“That’s what to expect when your mind is obsessed with something,” came the dismissive reply. “Now, I made you some cinnamon muffins for breakfast. Your favorite - eat up.”

I was shaking with fear and anger now. I knew it wasn’t a dream. A dream fades - this was as clear as any memory in my head.

“I already did it,” I repeated frantically. “It happened yesterday. I just know it!”

My aunt and uncle shook their heads and I screamed. Unlike yesterday, my screams were that of an angry girl, not the full throated shouts of a beast. I kicked and thrashed against the walls and threw the muffins on the floor.

“It’s time,” my aunt said solemnly after the bird emerged from out clock on the wall.

“Good,” I said. “We will go out there and they’ll remember what happened.” I strode out the front door defiantly, but when I reached the town center, I saw the same villagers awaiting me in the same circle.

“No, no, no!” I screamed. “I did this yesterday!”

“Bind her,” the judge instructed. The two men wearing black hoods bound me in chains again.

“Selena, daughter of Roland. For your crime of disrespect to an Elder, you have been sentenced to suffer Ruination,” he said.

“No,” I cried out. “I already did it! I’ve already suffered.” He did not reply, and I shook my chains desperately, trying to get free.

The judge drew his dagger and flicked my forehead. I moved my head as he did so, causing the blade to slide into my eyebrow. I could see a few errant hairs on the edge when he pulled the dagger away.

“Selena, you have come in the spirit of rebellion and defiance. You have clearly refused to learn your lesson of humility in advance. Therefore I feel it is my duty to ensure you learn it through your punishment. Four drops,” he said as he produced the vial of green Ogre blood.

“No!” I screamed, tears running down my cheeks. Now that I knew the horror to come, it was that much more terrible. Last time, though, I had been sentenced to only three drops, not four. This time, the changes would go even farther.

The four drops came as the audience gasped. The pain was intense, but this time I just gritted my teeth rather than yell. The sizzling sound was louder, like the sound of meat against an open flame.

When the chains were undone, once again I ran for the river. This time, though, I dove in and kept swimming until I reached the opposite side of the embankment. It was something I’d never done before - the river was strong enough that it had drowned children in the past - but I did it without any great exertion. Apparently, underneath the new flab of my body was a coating of musculature.

When I pulled myself out of the water, I saw my aunt in the distance on the opposite side of the river. She had followed me, just as she did the day before. But she did not follow me across the river. She didn’t remember, obviously, but I did.

Yesterday, I had been depressed beyond words. Today I was angry.

What was the difference between being morose and being furious? Anger helps you devise a plan. And for the first time in a day and a half, I finally had one.

I knew that on this side of the river there was a ramshackle tent, and inside lived a woman who was always wrapped in rags. I knew that one person might understand me: the one woman I knew of who had experienced Ruination. I was going to see The Hag. She was the one person I had feared more than anything as a child, yet as I approached, I felt only hope that she might help me.

When I made my way over to the tent, I saw her intently watching the bank of the river. With a swift motion, she reached her arm in as I approached, snagging a wriggling fish in her paws. A sickening crunch ensued when she brought it to her jaws and started noshing on it. In spite of myself, my pouchy stomach growled.

“I figured you’d come,” she said through a mouthful of raw fish, without looking up at me. Her voice was deep and throaty, but lacked the scratchy, cackling quality I’d always imagined as a child.

“What is your name?” I asked her, neglecting to tell her that her prediction had been wrong the day before.

“The monster by the lake? The crazy homeless woman? The witch? I don’t know, what do you call me these days?” she replied.

“The Hag,” I answered, feeling ashamed.

“Then that is my name,” she replied, nibbling a little on the fish’s bones.

“What is your real name,” I said, unwilling to refer to her by a childhood taunt.

“What does it matter? I’m not that person anymore. I’m just a hag now,” she said. “I don’t need anybody to pretend otherwise.” As my eyes lazily drifted, I could see my reflection in the choppy water. I was even more grotesque than yesterday. My skin was a slightly darker, more leathery shade of green. My bones seemed to have expanded a bit more, and every feature of my face was more pinched and protruding than it had been. My clothing was stretched to the limit, clinging to my bloated body.

“I have so many questions,” I began, feeling flummoxed as I sat down on the muddy embankment. Sitting caused my enlarged breasts and belly to strain against the garment even more, and I heard the faint sound of wet fabric tearing.

“Well, ask away,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“How many drops did they give you?” I asked. I couldn’t tell what she looked like under the rags that were swaddled all over her body.

“Does it matter?” she asked. “It could have been one, or a hundred. I would still be a monster in their eyes.”

I hadn’t thought about it like that, but I supposed she was right.

“How many days did you have to go through it?” I asked, finally arriving at what I had come to ask.

“Every day, for the rest of our lives,” she said. “This transformation is permanent.”

“Not that,” I said. “I meant, what were you doing yesterday? Were there townspeople at the circle?”

“I was at the village yesterday. There was no gathering,” she said matter of factly.

“I’m not saying it was yesterday. I’m saying I’ve lived today twice,” I tried to explain. “When I awoke I was human again, and had to go through it all another time. I can’t imagine having to keep enduring this humiliation, this torture, over and over again...”

“I’m sure that won’t last forever,” she demurred.

“You’re sure? So it happened to you, too?” I asked excitedly.

“My life is not yours. Do not look to me for answers,” she replied. “All I can say is to find a way through this.”

I clenched my fist in anger, accidentally causing my sharper nails to draw blood from my palm in the process. “I’ll never accept it,” I said defiantly, and dove back into the water. When I crawled onto the opposite bank, I found a small stone and took it with me. It was time for a test.

Day Three:

As the rays of the sun woke me, I fished my hand furiously under my pillow. The stone from the river was gone, and my suspicions were confirmed – I was indeed living the same day again and again.

I was aware, though, that my test was useless to anybody but me. The Hag would not remember our conversation, if the pattern held up. And I was not about to allow the pattern to continue. I slipped on my dress and bounded downstairs. I ran right past my aunt and her bowl of cinnamon muffins, charging straight out the door with a clear purpose in mind.

I headed straight for the home of Justice Taney. I knew there were guards crawling about and would spot me in the process, but I only needed a few moments of his time.

I didn’t have the stone beneath my pillow, but that wasn’t the only stone in town. I grabbed the first large sized one I found on the path to his house and smashed his window with it. As I stepped inside, I tore the bottom of my dress on some of the remaining shards of glass still in the frame.

The judge was taciturnly eating a bowl of oatmeal alone at his table when he spotted me climbing my way into his home.

“What on Earth are you doing here?” he demanded. “I ought to call for the guards.”

“I’m sure they’re already coming,” I said, “but I just need a moment. I’m sorry I disrespected you, I am. You have the power to let this go,” I said. “Please, pardon me.”

“Why should I do that?” he asked, turning away from me to his oatmeal.

“I’ll do anything,” I begged. “Please. I’ll work for you, steal for you...”

“Who do you think I am?” he said, his voice rising slightly.

“I’ll give you what you wanted,” I finally relented, hearing footsteps approach from outside and feeling desperate. I was willing to sacrifice anything to break the pattern and avoid Ruination a third time. With a trembling hand, I started to pull back the straps of my dress. I had never before allowed a man to see me naked. It pained me to have it be him, but I had no choice.

Just as my small breasts were about to be exposed, I heard a knock at the door, followed by shouting.

“Justice Taney, we believe Selena may have tried to enter your premises. May we enter and conduct a search?” the voice barked out. I stared back at in with quivering lips, far less afraid of a lecherous old man than of the hand of the law.

“I have her here,” he said calmly, and my heart started to sink. “There is no reason to enter. I’ll take custody of her and take her to the ceremony,” he finished, and my eyes lit up.

“Now,” he began, after the footsteps trotted away. “Where were we?”

He did not touch me, but he stared intently at me after I disrobed. I thought his eyes might leap from his sockets. After an awkward, humiliating eternity, he finally spoke.

“Get your clothes back on, they are expecting us soon,” I did as he asked, and followed him from his house to the center of town, where everyone, including my aunt, were awaiting our arrival.

The two men in black hoods did not immediately chain me up, as if awaiting instruction from the judge.

“Selena, daughter of Roland, you are guilty of the crime of disrespecting an Elder. In addition, this morning, you trespassed into my home, and attempted to beg clemency. While I was patiently explaining to you that this was impossible, you threw yourself at me, attempting to use sin to bargain yourself out of your rightful punishment. As such, I see fit to increase it. Six drops,” he said, as the two men chained my arms in place.

I said nothing. I felt only waves of futility and shame wash over me as the chains forced my arms apart.

When the judge approached me, dagger in hand, he winked at me. The corners of my mouth curled, but again I said nothing. I could see my aunt crying out of the corner of my eye.

Each drop landed with a wave of pain, and the sound of my skin sizzling grew to a frothy roar. I tried to grit my teeth, but this became increasingly difficult as they grew inside my mouth. I ended up biting the inside of my cheeks several times, and I started spitting blood.

My body grew along with my teeth, and I heard the horrifying sound of the fabric being rent asunder by my expanding girth. With my increasingly beefy arms pulled towards my sides by the chains, I couldn’t even try to cover myself. Instead, my state of near nakedness was exposed to the entire crowd. I felt the shame burn all over again. The only difference was this time was worse - more people, and something far more hideous to look at.

When I was finally released, I took the white robe from my aunt. I noticed it covered less of me than it had before; today’s transformation left me far wider and rounder. My entire body shape had changed. I was no longer a lithe rail, now I was a fat blob, whose body shook and jiggled with every movement. I tried my best to walk home, but my bulky body moved in hulky steps. The best I could manage was shambling ahead, rather than my usual graceful method of movement. My aunt did not follow, and I fully expected my uncle would not be home. Nobody would dare be near me now.

Up ahead, I saw a throng of young boys chasing a smaller boy, complaining that his hair was too long. When they caught up to him, they started beating him. They dispersed when I approached, shrieking in horror as I made my way past.

The little boy with the long hair was the only one that did not flee or scream. He merely gazed up at me with penetratingly blue eyes, his lips quivering. I turned away from his gaze after a few agonizing moments, my eyes landing on a window that reflected my hideous face, with very heavy brows and every trace of femininity erased from my formerly delicate cheekbones. I tried to walk faster and avert my gaze, but everywhere I looked there seemed to be a window.

I wanted nothing but to forget this terrible day ever happened. I wanted to smash my ugly face against the glass windows that reflected my fearsome and gruesome visage. I resisted and made my way home without any further incident.

As I entered the door, I noticed I had to bow my head slightly, indicating I had grown taller in addition to being larger. My newly enlarged nostrils twitched involuntarily, as I picked up on the scent of food like a hungry animal. Of course - the muffins.

I was determined not to let myself become a savage, so I resisted the temptation to stuff them into my face as soon as I found the bowl of muffins. I tried took a seat in one of the chairs by the table, but as I eased myself into it I heard it squeak and bend with stress. Thinking I might break it, I sat cross legged on the floor. I tried to use the little knife to cut a slice, but the blade was too tiny to effectively wield with my large, stubby fingers. I resorted to using a fork, but with my first bite I heard a sickening crunch. Soon I discovered my monstrous teeth had crushed the poor utensil into a twisted, useless shape.

I finally just shoved the muffin into my mouth, but with each bite I could see a few crumbs fly through the air. I realized what I must look like: sitting on the floor, eating food out of a bowl, making mess.

Feeling horrified at myself, I made my way up the stairs in loud, thunderous stomps that shook the banister. I flopped on my bed, only to have it give way from under me. It - and I - landed on the floor with a dull thud. I tried to pull the sheets over my head, but the sharp ends of my fingers caught on the fabric, tearing it slightly. Feeling overcome with frustration, I let out a roar. The window was open, and in response to my frightening noise I heard the sound of a children screaming come through it.

I banged my massive forehead against the wall, denting and cracking it. I repeated the motion until I lost consciousness.

Day Four:

I awoke with a singular purpose in my mind. Today would involve no denials, no pleading, and no bargaining. Today I was going to make a run for it.

I changed into my dress and slipped as quietly as I could out the back window, effectively bypassing my aunt and uncle and their food completely. I headed for the stables, trying my best to move silently.

My family didn’t own any horses, but that this point I wasn’t going to allow the label of “horse thief” to scare me away from a chance for freedom. I saddled and climbed the one horse I’d had experience with - Big Brown. As I bolted out of the stables, though, I could hear voices shouting. I knew I’d been seen. I headed to the woods on the north edge of the village, already hearing the gallop of other horses behind me. The chase was on.

Children were warned to stay away from the northern woods, but it was the only terrain adjoining the town with any cover. I remember how frightened I once was just stepping my toe inside as a little girl, before I fled home in terror. Now I was galloping in at full speed, far more afraid of what lay behind me than ahead.

I ducked low to avoid catching an errant branch in the face, and tried to kick my spurs as hard as my legs would let me. This level of force turned out to be a good deal more than I had in the past, for my horse responded with frightened whinnying and a markedly increased pace.

The horses of the village were not well trained for racing - they mainly existed as plow horses and beasts of burden for travelling merchants. It wasn’t long before mine tired, and I disembarked.

At the edge of the woods stood the reason why children had been forbidden to enter the woods - the great monster caves. Etched into hills and the sides of a sloping mountain, they were the home of our enemy. Nobody had seen one since the end of the last war, so it was assumed that they had abandoned the place. But the dark, foreboding structures were still frightening enough to scare off all but the bravest. Nobody I knew had ever dared venture inside.

I heard my pursuers closing in, and without another thought I made for the nearest cave. It was dark, and as I ran in blindly, I tripped and fell face first. I landed on something soft and furry.

A man with a torch had seen me run into the cave and as he followed me in, I got a glimpse of what the cave contained within.

The rock on the walls had been ornately carved with exquisite attention to detail, and painted to illustrate some grand battle scene. Through the flickering torch, I saw bits a town burning, with a large, rotund Ogre standing at the edge, fist raised high. I also noticed were that I had fallen on a rug made from the fur of some animal, and near it were patchwork looking chairs made from sticks and animal bones. Next to them were high tables and bowls the size of wagon wheels.

“Come on, Selena, you’ve had your fun,” he man said as he pulled me by the collar. I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. In desperation, I bit down on his hand and then jerked my elbow into his face. He cried out and fell backwards, and I used my free moment to grasp one of the chairs. I smashed it against his face as he turned around, and he fell backwards onto the stone wall.

The torch he was holding lazily rolled onto the floor, causing the rug to catch fire. Two more men entered the mouth of the cave, these carrying swords. I frantically looked around for a weapon of my own, and found an immensely massive halberd adoring the wall. I removed it from the tongs on which it lay, but the weight of the instrument was so ponderous that it immediately fell from my hands. I frantically tried to lift it as the two men approached. They laughed at my futile efforts, and sheathed their swords. One hoisted me over his shoulders and carried me out of the cave, kicking and screaming.

As I leaned over, I could almost reach the man’s scabbard. I pushed as hard as I could with my legs succeeded in gaining a couple of more crucial inches. With a single, smooth motion, I pulled the sword from the sheath and hit the man walking alongside us.

His head made a jerky motion and he fell backwards, landing on the fur carpet with a soft thud. The man carrying me threw me forwards, but I managed to land on my feet, and still carrying his blade. I swung wildly, hitting his head with the flat of the blade, and causing him to collapse.

As I ran out of the cave, I saw only four brown horses and believed for a brief moment that I had defeated my pursuers. Just then, a large, black stallion burst onto the scene, carrying the Black Knight.

He was the strongest warrior in the land. Last year he cleared out a nest of what he called dishonest merchants. Earlier, he had led our forces in the Monster War, and before that, he had stopped a plot to assassinate a distant monarch and tore the conspirators limb from limb.

Of course, it wasn’t the same man. The Black Knight was simply a title given to the warrior who deserved it most. This ensured that the Black Knight could never be vanquished and he could never grow old and frail. When one Black Knight could not serve, another worthy soul would be appointed to take his place.

What poor luck that he happened to be in my village on a day like today.

I had never before laid eyes on him, but there was no question in my mind who he was. His full plate, dark armor was rife with ornate spikes and spires, and his boots were pointed, stained with dried blood.

With surprising swiftness, he dismounted his horse and headed straight in my direction. He didn’t bother swinging his weapon, only raising his mailed fist against me. When he hit me, I blacked out, and soon I was back on a horse, passing through the woods in the other direction.

“Selena, daughter of Roland,” the judge intoned after I was brought back to the town and dumped in front of him, “you have not borne your punishment with the grace of a lady. You have compounded your crime by attempting to evade punishment, stealing a horse and assaulting members of the village watch who tried to apprehend you.” I sat motionless as he spoke. “Ten drops,” he commanded, as the crowd gasped in shock. “And then you’ll be placed in a cell, so nobody else is at risk of losing their horse.”

I waited until he tried to gouge my forehead, and as he approached, I spat directly into his eye. He paused to wipe himself clean and spoke without any emotion in his voice.

“Eleven,” he said, amending my punishment. I stood defiant. The Hag was right about the number of drops - what did it matter? I’d just have to go through this again tomorrow.

He cut me, and then counted the eleven drops. The first few were agonizing, but after it got to around five, it started to hurt less. Perhaps my toughening skin was resisting the effect? Or the wound was cauterizing? I wasn’t sure. Either way, the dull roar of my skin sizzling sounded like a wave crashing on the rocks. The only sound I could hear over it was the sounds of shrieks from the villagers and the scampering of their feet. I could feel my breasts expanding, straining, and then popping out of my clothes. My widening hips caused my panties to stretch, fray, and fall to my side. I don’t know how obscene a display this was - my huge breasts and newly bulging belly obscured my line of sight. All I could see was a sea of dark green, increasingly leathery looking skin. I could feel my teeth growing, and this time I didn’t bother trying to hide them inside my mouth. They poked out from my lips prominently.

This time I was not unchained. Probably wise, as judging from bulk of my newly enlarged arms, I was likely quite strong. Instead, I was merely unlinked from the pillars, and marched to the dungeon fully bound in my metallic restraints.

That is, what passed for a dungeon in our small village. It was merely a row of dank cells on the southern edge of town. They were usually filled with drunks, vagabonds, blasphemers, curfew breakers, and the like, but today one sat empty.

A full procession of guards marched with me, but this time I offered little resistance. My next try for freedom would be tomorrow morning.

Eventually, I was unchained, then shoved unceremoniously into a cell. A dull click pronounced my locked in, and that was that.

One of the guards did stay behind, intently staring at me like some curiosity. I felt overcome with the urge to scare him away, and accomplished this by baring and gnashing my teeth in his direction.

I thought my aunt might show up, but this was too much even for her. As the night drew close on the town, I thought intently on how I would make my escape next time around. Would I hide in a house, or travel on foot? Would I take the road used by the merchants and try to reach a nearby town instead of heading for the forest? I thought of nothing but strategy as I paced my cell. When my thick, powerful legs grew tired, I grasped the bars and shook them furiously, howling as I did so.

When the sun had set, I finally did receive a visitor. The shuffling figure of The Hag crept by my cell.

“I heard about what you did this morning,” she cooed. “Very brave of you.”

“But all for naught,” I lamented, aware how deep my voice sounded and the slight scraping sound that happened whenever I opened my mouth. I shook the bars, but even as they quaked in my palms, I knew escape was pointless. “Such strength,” I said through a growl, “only available to me when I have no need of it,” I said as I flopped on my side in resignation. “I have to figure out a better plan for next time. I have to learn how to vanquish them.”

“Next time?” she said with a low chuckle. “I doubt they’ll have the horses under such scant guard next time.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I said, knowing that tomorrow I’d be the only person aware of any of this.

“You had three guardsmen chasing you,” she said. “And the misfortune of the Black Knight coming into town this morning. You were brave, but you had no chance, no matter which way you went. I’m sure they posted one close to your home. You couldn’t have snuck out and expect to be undetected.”

“Then how to I avoid it?” I asked.

“Avoid what? It’s done with, isn’t it?” she asked.

“No, it’s not,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t understand. “Let’s just say, hypothetically, I had today to do all over again, how would I escape my Ruination?”

“Selena,” The Hag began, “I don’t think you could have. This village is extremely committed to this punishment.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why do I have to suffer?”

She shrugged in reply, causing the rags on her back to ripple. “It is their way.”

“And why Ogre blood? What point does this serve, other than to make us ugly?” I asked.

“We fought the Ogres in the war,” she said. “They have turned us into their mortal enemies.”

“It can’t be that simple,” I growled. “There must be more to it.”

“It has a role. People like to know there are monsters bigger than they are. It absolves them of guilt, you see,” The Hag mused.

“Well then, I’m just doomed,” I said, feeling frustrated. “If I can’t run away and I can’t stop it, and these people won’t be reasoned with, there is no hope.”

“There is always hope,” The Hag began, “You will find your way.”

“As you have?” I asked. A long, pregnant pause ensued.

“Yes, eventually I accepted my fate,” she intoned. “Only you know if it is time for you to do the same.”

Day Five:

I closed my eyes in the cell, and woke up in my bed, same as it always had been. This time, though, I did not bother to move. Why bother rising to my feet if escape was impossible?

After a few moments, I heard a knock on the door, indicating it was time for me to awaken. I did not respond. My aunt tried several times to get my attention, and I pretended I did not hear her. She tried to offer me her muffins, but didn’t react. Eventually, I heard the sound of guards at the front door, letting my family know I was expected. In short order, they broke down my door.

I flinched at the explosion of wood and splinters but I did not move. I heard just two words “Take her,” and then I was swaddled in a white robe and carried out of my room by men with iron grips. Soon I was marched into the town and tied in place.

“Selena, daughter of Roland...” he began.

“Get on with it,” I snapped.

“Selena, your conduct this morning has been disrespectful and uncooperative, clearly indicating a lack of understanding and respect for our ways. Five drops,” he said as he approached. I closed my eyes as he nicked my forehead and poured the green fluid onto me. My skin burned, my body grew, but I felt as though my mind was growing numb. Was it the fact that today was the first day my punishment had not been worse than the last? Or, had repeated exposure to horror reduced its effect? For whatever reason, I felt only agony, not fear or hysteria.

The crowd gasped and stared, but as I was unchained and I crumpled to the ground, they slowly dispersed. My aunt stayed until the last, but as she approached I called out “leave me,” and she withdrew.

I thought of seeking out The Hag, but what would she have to say to me that had not been said on the second day of my Ruination? And yet as I looked down at myself, I realized things were not exactly as they had been that day. That day I had bothered to dress myself, instead of being dragged from bed. I looked at the white robe covering my body and wondered if this is what the rags that covered The Hag once resembled. Was that my destiny? To abandon the village, to leave town a pariah, never to rejoin my kin? Were they even my kin now that I had monster blood in my veins?

I looked in the direction of the river. Perhaps if I simply put my own tent up next to hers, the daily torment would end. My life would go on. With this thought taking possession of my mind, I made my way to the river bank. Just as I was about to dive in, I stopped.

My life would not go on, I realized. The Hag lived as an outcast, as a pariah, day in and day out. Nothing in her life ever changed. The days passed, but life did not. That could not possibly be my destiny for escape from this endless cycle.

I had tried to fight something I didn’t understand. Something I could not understand. My battle would never be won unless that changed.

If there was information to be found, it was to be found only in one place: the library, and it was towards that building that I directed my awkward, trudging steps. I kept my head down in what I assumed was a futile effort to avoid any more attention.

To get to the library I had to pass by farmer’s harvest market. I dreaded walking past, but there was no other way to get to the end of the street. A mother was picking up some spinach from a basket, while her daughter complained that she hated vegetables.

“You better eat up, or the monster Selena will come and eat you in your sleep,” she warned. Neither the mother nor the daughter was facing my direction and so they did not see me pass. An old man begged for coins near the entrance, but was rebuffed by everyone who passed him. A guard walked up to him and kicked him away from his spot on the street, earning the laughter of all who watched. It drew their eyes away from me, and I was nearly through the crowd without a soul seeing me.

“You raised the price of beets again,” one man complained at another stand. “Instead of buying this week, I’ll go home and pray insects crawl into your skull,” he said with a sneer.

“How much for those tomatoes?” asked a woman with a large crooked nose and an obvious overbite.

“I wouldn’t sell my food to someone as ugly as you for your nose’s weight in gold,” he said as he protectively covered his product with his arms.

Two men selling carrots were standing right beside one another. The man with crop of smaller looking vegetables looked enviously at his competitor for a few moments, and then spoke with a sharp bite to his voice.

“How’d you do it, Soldir? Did you fertilize your carrots with your daughter’s virtue?” he said. Soldir didn’t hesitate in throwing a punch, which drew more applause from the audience. The man with the smaller carrots rose to his feet and pulled a small club from his belt.

“Fight, fight, fight!” the guard cheered as he pumped his first. It was a typical day at the market. Each remark was exactly what I’d expect, but today I could feel it boiling my blood. Each line seemed to enrage me further, until I realized all the commotion had rewarded me with the impossible: I had made my way through the market without arousing suspicion.

I could imagine slinking away and enjoying the moment of peace in my hectic life. But with each step I took towards the door of the library, I felt the temptation to disrupt the proceedings grow stronger. When I was nearly there, I turned around at the squabbling, bleating mass and let out a roar. It was loud and fearsome enough to silence the jeering mob, which turned in unison to look at me in fear. I quickly ducked into the library.

As soon as I pushed open the creaky door, I noticed he was at the front desk. Simon’s tall, willowy frame was bent over a book, his dark hair hanging a little low on his brow, partially obscuring his face. He brushed it away with a casual flick of his long, bony fingers before he looked up to see who had walked through the door.

I counted it a blessing that he was one of the few that did not attend my Ruination. Now, of course, he’d see me in all my glory. I’d have to see a startled, frightened, and terrified first look from him each time I walked in this door. Whatever emotions Simon may have had when he gazed upon me, he did not show them. He stared at me with a stony, taciturn expression.

“Can I help you with anything, Selena?” he asked, his voice devoid of any emotional inflection, as always.

“No,” I began, trying to control my tone and sound as normal as possible. “Just looking around,” I added, and quickly ducked behind some musty old shelves.

“Be careful not to tear the pages,” he warned, but it was too late. A casual flick of my clawed finger had already torn one book nearly in two. But what did it matter to me? The book would be restored to full health by morning.

As I wandered through several sections, I realized I didn’t know what I was seeking with any degree of specificity. Not only was I clueless as to which section I needed, I wasn’t even sure what question I should be trying to answer. Should I start with the unique circumstances of my days repeating? Should I try to understand the Ruination? Should I learn more about the Monster War?

For a small, insular, stratified community, the library was fairly well stocked. On the other hand, I had all the time in the world to read, for tomorrow never came.

Day Nine:

There was no reference of any kind to the unique temporal situation that I found myself in. The ritual of the Ruination was referenced briefly, but only to make note of it, not to explain how it worked or why.

The Monster War, on the other hand, was too well covered. While our village was on the front line, many other towns and cities had joined in the battle with the great Ogres from the forest. A single Ogre was powerful and cunning enough to stand toe to toe with at least a dozen good fighting men, or so I was told. Those who voiced opposition to the war were publicly flogged, and men who refused to fight were beheaded in the town square. Nothing unexpected there. Those who lived to tell the tale told similar accounts. We humans had driven them off of their homeland - though according to a few accounts, they did promise to return one day.

For four days, I read nonstop. I learned to be careful with the books, learned to use my clumsy sharp new fingers and prevent the pages from tearing. Nobody said a word. Nobody even tried to make me leave after the library officially closed. It was sad that the best I could hope from my fellow humans – if I could indeed still call myself that – was being ignored by people like Simon.

I continued my work by candlelight when the sun went down. On my last day of reading, just as the dawn was about to break, I could feel my frustration become irresistible. I deliberately threw my candle upon the shelves, causing them to light ablaze. A few moments later, I found myself waking in my bed, as I always did during dawn. A quick glance out my window revealed that the library was fine, of course.

I realized I was out of ideas. I had read every book of any conceivable relevance and found nothing of value. No town was within a day’s riding distance, so I couldn’t try to find information elsewhere. And whenever any villagers saw me, they recoiled in horror.

An hour and three drops of Ogre blood later, Once again, I was faced with the prospect of bowing to the advice of The Hag: to simply accept my destiny.

With heavy steps, I made my way towards the river.

“I figured you’d come,” The Hag said with through a mouthful of fish.

“Why?” I asked. “So you’d have a friend?”

“Because you want to understand.” she replied.

“I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried,” I said. “I can’t understand it. I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s done is done,” she said. “I had to learn that long ago. They are incapable of empathy for the likes of us.”

“If only we hadn’t won the war and driven the Ogres away,” I lamented. “I’d like to see them raze this place to the ground.”

“Driven them away?” The Hag replied with a cackle. “They’re all dead.”

“What?” I asked in shock. “But I just read...”

“Do you honestly think they’d put the truth in books? That they’d allow young people to grow up knowing that their fathers murdered an entire community of living beings? That they put even the children to the sword?” she said with a shout.

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“My fiancée told me what he’d done. He said we humans started the Monster War, and we ended it. He said his unit had been ordered to kill all the Ogre children, and he did it,” she replied. “And I made the mistake of asking an Elder if it was true. For daring to expose this truth, I had to be punished. You know the rest.”

“And your fiancée?” I asked, my face fallen.

“What do you think? Do you think he’d love a monster?” she said. “He never spoke to me again after I became a living reminder of his guilt. And later, as a reward for his ‘heroism,’ he was dubbed the Black Knight.”

“I can’t accept this,” I said, feeling my rage start to burn once again. “I just can’t believe our neighbors are butchers, that just for asking questions they make us exiles, and nobody wants to help us,” I continued, grinding my teeth as I spoke. “And we are powerless to fight back? Just passive victims in all this?”

“There were three of us by the river once,” The Hag began, “but two of them slit their wrists with their fangs after a few days. They couldn’t stand seeing their reflection in the water. When I look, I see the conscience of sick society, a murderous place. That’s all the reckoning I’ll ever get.”

“The Ogres, then, they weren’t really monsters? They were just like us?” I asked.

“Who is and is not a monster is in the eye of the beholder, as I’m sure you now know. But to answer your question, yes, they were just like us, except bigger and stronger,” she added.

I lingered on her final words for a few moments. An idea started to gestate in my mind, springing from the dark place that begged me to bare my teeth when the guards came and set fire to books when they didn’t edify me.

“What would you say if I could promise you a real reckoning?” I asked.

“Elaborate,” she said after a pregnant pause.

Day Ten:

The piercing light of the dawn woke me, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the sun filled me with hope instead of trepidation. I dressed myself and walked downstairs with a lighter feeling in my shoulders. The worry over my impending Ruination had abated. The stress of trying to play out schemes for avoiding it or trying to understand it was no more.

When Aunt offered me muffins, I started to mouth a refusal, but stopped myself. Today there was no reason for me to resist that intoxicating aroma of cinnamon. “I’d love some,” I said. “In fact, do we have any jam and butter?”

We had both. In no time I was smearing them onto my breakfast and stuffing my face with both hands. I felt no sense of shame at neglecting to cut them into delicate, ladylike small bites. I emptied the jar of jam, even hitting the bottom of the jar with my palm to try to shake out every last bit of the stuff.

I couldn’t remember the last time anything tasted so good, or the last time I had let myself indulge. Or the last time I was happy. It felt good, and left me with a warm, safe feeling in my gut. When I was finished, I rose to my feet and left the house of my own accord. I marched right past the guards, heading for the circle of villagers.

“Selena,” Justice Taney intoned, “You’re a few minutes early.”

“Justice Taney, the moment of my fitting, sweet punishment cannot come swiftly enough,” I began as I sank to my feet. “Nothing could make me happier than to submit to the law. I prostrate myself before your beneficent and righteous rule. I will never again fail to live up to the expectations of this fair and honorable society.” I concluding, enjoying hamming it up. For the first time, I stood before the man without a drop of fear in my body.

“Selena, daughter of Roland, I am most impressed by your humility. Clearly you have learned your lesson. I hereby grant you a full pardon. You are free to go,” he said.

“What?” I asked. The sound of applause from the crowd drifted towards me. The dull roar of hands clapping seemed like a hollow echo of the sound of my wound had always sounded as it sizzled.

“My child,” my Aunt said as she approached me. She dropped the white robes she always brought with her on the ground and gave me a warm embrace. “Let’s go home,” my aunt began, “and be glad that this day will never come again.” It suddenly occurred to me that the cycle may indeed have just been broken. I might go to sleep and wake up tomorrow, at long last.

I basked in the warmth of social acceptance for a few moments, hoping that the shock would wear off and be replaced with a happy glow. It did not. The more I drank in the smiling faces of my fellow human beings, the more I saw them taunting me. These faces - the same ones that recoiled in horror at me when I was punished - now wanted to accept me. Why?

Because they were given permission to by an authority figure, and authority figure who could never be questioned and whose edicts had to be obeyed. Because my feigned submission to this rule earned me a free pass, I was no longer a threat to anyone. Meanwhile, The Hag would continue to be an outcast, along with whoever the finger of suspicion pointed at next.

Could I just go to sleep and wake up pretending none of this ever happened? Could I allow myself to slip back into my old life, with nobody the wiser?

I promised The Hag - and myself - a reckoning. Of course, I knew that she would not remember I had made that promise. But I knew that I would remember, and for the rest of my life.

I saw Justice Taney start to turn around and head back to his house. I knew there were only a few moments left for me to make my decision.

“Come on, let’s go,” my Aunt said, tugging at my sleeve as I stood frozen in the center of the courtyard. “And wipe that jam off your lip,” she added.

“I’ll have jam on my lip anytime I please,” I shot back, surprising a few villagers.

“Don’t spoil things after you caught such a lucky break, not if you want to be a lady living in civilized society,” she scolded.

I didn’t need to think twice. There was more civilization in an a row of empty caves than in this village.

I rushed towards Justice Taney just as he was unlocking his front door. I reached my fingers into his front pockets, and quickly found what I was looking for.

“Selena? What...” he sputtered as he tried to push me away. But it was too late: I had the vial in my hand.

With a single, swift motion, I undid the cap and turned the vial upside down over my mouth. The thick, viscous liquid moved through the flask at an agonizingly glacial pace.

I wasn’t really sure what I was thinking trying to ingest it rather than pour it over an open wound, as I had done before. Perhaps I just didn’t want to cut myself, or maybe I just didn’t want a single drop to be wasted outside my body.

I could feel hands jostling me as I held the vial above my head, waiting for the first drop to fall. All the shaking - the attempts to take it away from me - only made the gooey stuff fall faster, of course.

When the green liquid finally hit my tongue, I was surprised. Given the intensely pungent smell, I expected the substance to be terrible to taste. The bitter initial taste was there, but underneath it I was treated with a syrupy sweet aftertaste. It was so sweet in fact I could feel my mouth and lips pucker, like that time I had consumed a handful of pure sugar as a child.

The moment that first large drop touched my tongue, I could feel the prying hands release me. I could feel a dull tingle making its way throughout my body, and I knew the change was upon me. It felt distinctly different than it had before. With no open wound to cauterize, I could feel so many other sensations other than pain. I could feel my body growing and changing in a thousand subtle ways. My broadening back started to strain against my silk clothing, and just as I heard the distinct ripping sound of my wide shoulders tearing it, I heard my aunt start to shriek.

“What have you done?” she cried out. I turned around to see her and I could hear other villagers start to scream as they saw my face. Was I really so more horrifying than I had been before? Or was it just more terrifying because I had chosen this?

A third possibility entered my mind as I saw several city guards start to tighten their grips on the hilts of their swords. This was the first time anyone had seen someone transformed and unchained.

“Somebody, stop her!” I heard Justice Taney cry out, followed by some commotion in the crowd.

As the guards approached me, I slowly paced backwards, towards the center of the main courtyard. The three guards who had followed me from the street were joined by two others and soon I was surrounded.

I picked up one of chains that they had brought out this morning, the chains that had been intended to bind me and force me to experience this change against my will. Now I twirled and whipped it around me as a weapon against those trying to get close to me, those trying to stop me from changing.

My arm started to tire after a few swings, and I could see the spark of initiative start to form as the rapid swishes of the chain grew slower and weaker. My other arm was held up to my mouth, trying to coax another drop of Ogre blood out of the glowing green vial.

I didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the liquid entered my mouth, I could feel my arm get a surge of energy. I started whipping and spinning the chain faster than I had before, as I could see my beefier and stronger upper arm break free of my clothing. With each spin of the chain I could see the muscle definition strain and bulge against my skin and my growing corpulence. One of the guards took a step closer, and I instinctively landed the chain on his foot. He fell backwards, moaning in pain and clutching his hobnail boot.

I shook the vial and another large drop fell into my waiting maw. The rough, bitter taste that was the initial flavor seemed to have vanished, as though my taste buds were numbed to it by now - or transformed, like the rest of me. Now I only tasted the rich, almost decadent sweetness. My tongue ached with the intense flavor as I gulped it down. My world shrunk a little as I gained a few inches in height, and my clothing gave way to my larger frame.

It was obvious from their body language that the village guards were increasingly losing confidence. Their eyes grew wide, backed away from me, and in a couple of cases even dropped their weapons. I let out a low growl as I started to inch forward.

I felt fairly confident I had enough power to succeed. But why stop now? Why let even a single drop of this precious substance go to waste? I looked into the vial. It was mostly empty, but I turned it upside down and shook it vigorously over my mouth. After several jerking pumps by my newly strengthened arm, the fluid finally was expelled from its container, flying towards my face. Most of it landed in my waiting maw, but a few errant drops landed on my lips and cheeks. I moved my longer, more pointed tongue carefully around my long, sharpened teeth to try to lick up those last few bits of blood. The sweetness was blended with the taste of the last dollop of jam on my cheek. As sweet as that was, it was sour in comparison to the cloying, overwhelming taste of Ogre blood.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my hair growing darker and coarser. I was able to see the roofs of buildings now, which meant my body had grown so large I knew I would no longer fit in most doors. My belly had expanded into two large orbs, an upper belly and a lower gut, which hung nearly to my knees and sported a happy trail of hair up to my sunken belly button. My impossibly large breasts now fell and sagged on either side of it.

As I inched closer to the judge, I could see them flopping back and forth with every step. Even the nipples looked different - darker, larger, longer, and with a few dozen curly hairs poking of the sides.

“Selena, please,” I heard Justice Taney beg, “let’s work this out peacefully.”

I leaned down to the judge, reveling in the expression of fear upon his face as I grew closer to him.

“If I had begged you for mercy, would you have granted it?” I asked in a low, guttural voice.

“I did grant you mercy,” he replied as he started to tremble.

“But not when I begged for it,” I said as I lifted him into the air with my clawed hand. “Only when I groveled and said I deserved to be punished. Why?”

“We...we strive for order. We must instill respect for authority, Selena,” he said. “It is our way.”

“Why make us monsters?” I asked him, lifting him higher. His legs wiggled pathetically in the air as I did so.

“As a warning to others who might be tempted to follow in your footsteps,” he said. “Please...put me down.”

“Who is the monster?” I asked as he tried to squirm out of my grasp. He twisted his head away from me as I pulled him closer. “Look at me,” I growled and grinded my mouthful of long, sharp fangs. My protruding lower jaw, which melted right into the slug like series of chins that had consumed my neck, slowly moved towards his whimpering face.

“Now!” he shouted. In my intense focus on interrogating the man who had been responsible for my torment, I had neglected to notice anything around me. I heard a chorus of battle cries, and out of the corner of my eye I could see glimmering steel. The guards had regrouped, and were coming for me.

With little effort, I heaved Justice Taney into the skyline. He screamed as he fell somewhere unseen. I quickly turned around to face my assailants. Bearing swords and spears, a dozen men were running at me from all sides. The bouquet of steel shone in the sun, and on the edges of the polished blades I could almost make out my reflection.

For a brief moment, I could feel a twinge of fear. I was outnumbered, naked, and unarmed. Worse, I might not get a chance to fight this battle again tomorrow if I faltered.

The feeling vanished as the first spear pierced my enormous, wobbly thigh. My blood popped and hissed loudly as it hit the streets. I roared with pain, and the rest of my attackers paused for a moment, studying what I would do. I took advantage of their hesitation and shambled forwards down a narrow avenue. The heavy steps of my hairy feet sounded like I was shattering the cobblestones, and I could see the frail frames of the houses on the street quake with every ponderous movement of my massive, bloated, quivering blob of a body.

The lane was a dead end, cut off by a row of massive logs that served as our city’s walls. I tensed my shoulder and sped up my heavy legs as much as I could. A satisfying crunch ensued when I body slammed the wall, and the logs that I hit started to fall. My leathery, tough skin seemed resistant to any damage from the impact, though my thigh still stung from the stabbing before. I tried to lean down and check on it, but my massive bust and stomach prevented me from obtaining a clear line of sight.

I saw the column of guards headed my way, including two men wearing black hoods: the men whose job it had been to keep me in chains. I grabbed one of the logs and heaved it at the advancing soldiers, knocking several down like toy soldiers. The log smashed into the side of one of the houses, causing it to collapse. Hot coals from the home’s furnace fell to the ground, igniting the bits of thatch roof that had fallen. I raised my first and roared at the sky. Soon, though, I could see more men coming. I turned around and lumbered towards the forest.

I barely felt the whips of the tree branches as I waded into the ocean of green. Looking down, I could see that the deep colors of the leaves matched my skin. When I looked back at the village, I could see the embers from the fallen furnace had erupted into a blaze.

I couldn’t remember my exact path, but as I closed my eyes, I felt as though I could guide myself there on instinct alone.

As I lumbered towards the caves, my juicy and flabby thighs rubbing together with every step, I hear the sound of horses. I knew they’d catch up to me in moments.

I made my way towards the cave I had entered days before, my purpose clear. Groping around in the darkness, I found the halberd on the wall. It was now the perfect size and weight for me.

When I returned to the mouth of the cave, I found about a dozen men dismounting and headed in my direction. My massive, blubbery arms didn’t quite seem up to the task of swinging a weapon with much dexterity, so I let my weight fall forward a bit before I arrested my momentum by taking a giant step forward. I let the swinging axis of my wide torso do all the work, and the blade cut a wide swath in front of me. Several of the men went flying through the air, and one landed in a tree with a high pitched yelp.

The other guards finally started to get the message and retreat. As they did, I let out a throaty roar, loud enough to cause every bird within sight to take flight. When the explosion of flapping and feathers subsided, the guards had all retreated and one man had taken their place.

The Black Knight. And to think I had almost forgotten about him. I knew he probably wasn’t the same man that had been betrothed to the Hag, but it didn’t matter. Vengeance was mine.

“Prepare to die, monster,” he said as he dismounted his horse. “I’ve killed a hundred Ogres,” he boasted. “You will be no different.” I squinted and snarled at him in reply.

As he unsheathed his sword, I knew I possessed only two possible fates - either my head would be his trophy, or his head would be mine.

The Black Knight twirled his sword in front of him as he slowly approached. I committed all my weight towards him for another heavy swipe. It was a rookie’s mistake. As fast as his armor would let him, he shuffled to the side, and gashed my big belly with his blade. I swung far too late at what was now an empty space. Still reeling and off balance, he lunged forwards and stabbed me again. A ribbon of my blood issued forth, and where it landed bushes doubled in size and trees grew visibly taller.

By the time I managed to turn to face him, he had already retreated, taking cover in one of the newly enlarged bushes. I used my halberd as a trowel, clearing away the foliage like they were weeds. Just as I found where he crouched, I saw him pull something small from his belt. I felt a stabbing pain in my belly, and looked down to find three arrows biting my flesh. He was apparently peppering me with a miniature crossbow.

For a brief moment, I considered collapsing on top of him, hoping my weight would be sufficient to crush or at least pin him. But what if I fell on his sword?

Each bolt that hit my gut caused a small spray of blood, which in turn re-grew the brush I had managed to clear. With each spray, the plant grew back stronger looking, with more thorns and more gnarled vines.

“The Black Knight, the bravest warrior in the land?” I said, hoping to taunt him into coming out of hiding. “You fight like a coward,” I added, my voice low and fearsome.

“Better to fight like a coward than die like a dog,” he shot back. “While I watch you bleed death, I’ll refill several vials with your blood for the next Ruinations. You’ll help keep people in line for generations.”

In desperation, I threw my halberd into the brush, eager to launch my own long range attack. It didn’t land anywhere near him. Why couldn’t I have re-lived this fight for ten days, so I’d know what I had to do?

I shambled to a nearby tree, and heaved with all my might to try to push it down on top of my foe. The arrows stopped, and I could see the Black Knight frantically trying to pull himself free of the overgrown hedge and its thorny embrace. In the last possible moment, he rolled aside, and the felled tree missed him.

While he was down, I smashed at him with my talon-augmented hand. I felt only the harsh clang of armor against my skin as a result, and with it a feeling of dread. I frantically searched for my weapon, but saw that it was hopelessly buried under a mountain of vines and plants.

I couldn’t defeat his armor without a weapon. And I didn’t have time to retrieve the only weapon that would fit my massive hands. I could try running into one of the other caves, but what if I ran into a dead end? I had no idea what was in them, except for the first one in the row...

“Accept your fate,” the Black Knight said as he shakily rose to his feet, hoping to intimidate me into surrender. Instead, it sparked within my mind a desperate, final ploy.

“Never,” I growled, and attempted to retreat to first cave. I had to hobble, because I had already lost so much blood that my limbs felt weak.

When I reached the mouth of the cave, the Black Knight stopped, as I had hoped he would. His fighting style was decidedly cautious. Weakened as I was, he wasn’t about to face me in the dark. That would bring an element of unpredictability to a situation in which he already had the advantage. Why take a risk when you’re winning? I blindly sought the table, realizing that I was as good as dead if things didn’t go exactly as I suspected.

Two sounds made my heart leap for joy: the faint purr of a spark lighting a torch and the dull, metallic whine of him tiling up his visor to improve his visibility. I knew I had a fighting chance when I found the giant bowl, and heaved my arrow pincushion belly into it. With a great deal of pain, I leaned as far as I could into it. I even used my talons to knead at my ponderously fat midsection, and each flick of my fingers caused me a shiver of pain. I didn’t hesitate to let out a squeal of suffering. All the better for me if he thought I was in death’s throes.

As he slowly made his way in, I pulled myself to a standing position and yanked the bowl from the table, lying it on the carpet.

“Time to finish you off,” he spat, and charged towards me with his sword drawn. I pushed the six foot wide tureen in front of me, colliding with him in the middle of the room.

As I hoped, his forward momentum, combined with the impact of the bowl straight in the legs, caused him to fall face first into the dish. This, of course, was now coated with a fairly thick layer of my blood.

I pressed his exposed eyes into the bloody mess, gouging his forehead with my fingers in the process. He let out a high pitch, feminine scream, which grew progressively deeper and more throaty as the long seconds wore on.

“No, Black Knight, I think it’s time you embraced your destiny,” I said as I pinned his head down and rubbed it like a rag across to surface of the bowl, eager for him to sop up the fluid of change. His hair darkened, his face puffed out, and I could see little sharp teeth start to emerge from his lips. As I had hoped, his expanding body proved to be too much for his armor. Leather clasps and straps burst as his newly green form grew larger and fatter.

“Do you accept your fate, as I was told to accept mine?” I asked him.

“Never,” he said as the armor popped away from his neck. “I’d rather die.”

“As you wish,” I said, and I leaned down towards his exposed neck. My powerful jaws and razor sharp teeth empowered me to take a generous hunk out of his flesh. He didn’t even cry out.

As I licked my lips I could feel the drops of his blood changing me even more. My big belly expanded larger still, and began to heal its wounds. My leathery skin grew tougher and stronger, and the cuts sustained during my fight mended.

With a contented and exhausted sigh, I stood up from the corpse of the knight and flopped down on the carpet. The soft fur cushioned my blow, and comfortably put my hands behind my head, exposing my impossibly hairy underarms. I wiggled my furry, clawed toes into the fur rug, and let out a bellow of a laugh as it tickled my feet. My chuckling caused my soft body to jiggle and sway for a long time, as though my body were dancing with itself. As I gazed contentedly around the beautiful cave, I knew I had found my home.

“Well, well,” I heard a familiar voice as footsteps approached. “I never thought...I never dared hope…”

“Hello?” I asked, not bothering to rise to my feet or even look around. I was rewarded by the masked face of The Hag peering over my body.

“Selena, I believe you know me more than I know you,” she began. “I’m guessing I probably wasn’t much help to you over your ordeal.”

“Turns out I didn’t need any help, he’s dead,” I said. “The Black Knight met his match.”

“You sure didn’t need help there, but he’s not what I meant. I meant with your punishment,” she said. “I don’t even know how many days you’ve had to repeat before you found this glorious climax.”

“Wait – it happened with you too?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fought it for seven long months, and only after covering myself in rags and sleeping by the edge of the river did I manage to move on. I didn’t want to give you my path, lest you take it. I was hoping you’d find a way other than mine. And it seems as though you have.”

“I promised you a reckoning,” I said. “And I’ve done it.”

“I know,” she said. “The village is in flames, the Black Knight is dead. Who could ask for more?”

“I can. We’re reclaiming the homeland of the Ogres,” I added. “Our kind is not extinct, not yet.”

“We?” she said.

“Yes, we. You and I are going to live here. Take off your rags,” I said. “We live in fear no longer.”

With shaking hands, she painstakingly removed her rags. I was surprised to see a middle aged woman who was almost entirely human. Her skin was greenish, her teeth and fingers were a little sharp and her eyes had an inhuman look to them, but that was all.

“One drop, that was my mercy,” she said with tears. “But they still recoiled in horror when they gazed upon me.”

“Never again will you feel shame,” I promised.

“There are many caves for just the two of us, eh?” The Hag asked after a long silence.

“Well, you never know what the future could bring in the way of more,” I said. “If another tribe of Ogres exist, they might eventually find their way to us. Or another ‘Ruined’ villager might find meander our way. Anything’s possible,” I said. “But what’s important is that we have found our time and place.”

Tomorrow:

The rays of the dawn burst through the window like knives, and I woke up screaming. It was perhaps the worst nightmare I had ever experienced. So real, so vivid. I had become a monster, an Ogre.

The hunter had become the hunted, and perished in the woods. The thought was enough to send chills down my spine.

I resolved to put the dream out my head and get on with my day as though nothing had happened. After all, I’m far too brave to tremble with fear at a vision. I’m bravest person in the Kingdom.

I am the Black Knight.

[DrMoreau]

Really enjoyed this one.