Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Beneath A Moonless Sky	By : LadyProudwhore Category: +S through Z > Warcraft III Views: 13409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Warcraft in any of its forms or any of the characters Also I'm not profitting from this

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
EXTRA SUBCATEGORY WARNING: This chapter will probably involve implied character death, I apparently can’t change the tags on the story, I hope this isn’t a problem, sorry; this idea just came to me after I’d already planned out and posted a lot of the story. Also, the torture in this chapter is more gory than sexual. Then again, I think deep down most people hate Garrosh enough to enjoy this…

As Garrosh walked away from Jaina’s bedroom, smirking and savoring the recent memory, he felt a slight stinging pain in his back. Next thing he knew he was toppling forward until he lay face down on the floor. A pair of black leather boots standing before him in a feminine yet authorative position were the last thing he saw before he blacked out.

      “Wake up, pig.” A stern, cold voice demanded as something hard, stinging and leather cracked Garrosh across his face. “I said wake up, you miserable sack of horse shit.”
      “What the…Where am I!? Who are you!?” Garrosh demanded, his vision still hazy as he struggled against the freezing cold chains which bound him.
       “I’ll give you a hint. You hate my guts, my very presence in The Horde enrages you and I’ll bet it burns you up that I’m a female leader. However, unlike Lady Proudmoore, I enjoy resorting to violence. It’s a little vice of mine, but I guess that comes with having your soul torn from your still living body as you scream what you wish to The Light had been your last….” Sylvanas snarled, leaning down directly in Garrosh’s face with an intensely hateful glare on her beautifully stern and cold face.
     “Bah! Pathetic, weak bitch! I’ll rip you apart!” Garrosh roared, struggling against his bindings.
     “You know? I don’t think you will. The fact is, those chains have an enchantment upon them…also, they are reinforced saronite. I used a nice metal when Jaina and I played because she was a polite and obedient sub. You, however, are willful, uppity and just in general a mockery of the subtle art of domination in general.” Sylvanas turned to pace in the opposite direction, her heavy boots echoing forebodingly on the stone floor. “Therefore I really don’t give a damn what happens to you when I’m done. In fact, I may leave you there. Perhaps one of my apothecaries is in need of parts for our city’s new line of guards. You may be a dull witted beast, but our guards needn’t be smart, only strong and durable…” Sylvanas turned around sharply, pointing the riding crop she’d woken Garrosh up with right at his face. “And those, dear Garrosh, are traits you most assuredly possess.”
     “I’d like to see you try! I will rip you apart!” Garrosh roared, flexing and straining against the chains in his frantic escape attempts. “Why do you care anyway? Some sort of depraved lesbian attraction to the human slut?” Garrosh spat mockingly as he paused in his struggling to catch his breath.
        “Of course.” Sylvanas’ lips curved up into a coy and dangerously beautiful smirk. “Besides, I don’t like sharing my toys. The only reason Thrall is an exception is because he had her first.”
       “Well do your worst bitch; she loved it when I fucked her filthy human cunt.” Garrosh sneered.
       “You know, I don’t like that word very much. I think it’s high time you learned to watch your mouth, scum.” Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed as she cracked Garrosh across the face with the riding crop. “And don’t even bother continuing to struggle, you bastard, those chains aren’t going anywhere.” Sylvanas straddled Garrosh’ lap, knowing there was nothing he could do to her as she had him bound.
       “What are you going to do? Fuck me?” Garrosh snorted. “Are all you females nothing but whores?”
      “Oh no, that wouldn’t be a punishment. What I’m going to do to you, you can’t even begin to imagine.” Sylvanas reached into her boot and pulled out a sharp, small knife. “You see, making one of my city’s guards is a very complex process…you have to separate everything so that you have parts when you need them instead of worrying about having to disassemble a body every time you need one. You may have noticed the chains you are wrapped in are cold. What you may NOT have noticed is that so is the rest of this room. We are no longer in Dalaran, nor, indeed, are we in Northrend; you are about half a mile below Undercity in a cold storage unit. My mages keep this room frigid and we store abomination parts in here. So much better than one of Arthas’ clumsy floating citadels or makeshift slaughter houses left over in Stratholme.” Sylvanas smiled almost fondly as she thought of her people’s ingenuity and skill. “So as you may just now be realizing, you’re not leaving this room alive.”
      Garrosh seemed stunned for a moment, speechless at the audacity of the Banshee Queen to assume that he would simply give in without a fight. His eyes darted around noticing now the various torsos and limbs hanging from the hooks on the ceiling, the packages of flesh and organs stacked neatly by the walls, the grate in the center of the floor, small and likely meant to filter any blood that started to make a mess. Though he had no doubt he could defeat Sylvanas, panic was starting to set in and he tried yet again to struggle against his bindings.
       “Oh, also that arrow I shot you with back in Dalaran? Nasty little guy, isn’t it? First it knocks you out, and afterwards you are weakened for hours. If I allowed you to live a full day, then the sickness would come, nausea, dizziness, vomiting, fainting spells…and if I allowed you to live for two days? Well that would be pointless because at the end of the second day, you would drop dead and be raised as a ghoul, loyal only to me. Ingenious, yes?” Sylvanas chuckled darkly. “So as you can see, Garrosh, I have all my bases covered. The best you can hope for is that you’ll bleed to death while I harvest your parts for scrap.”
     Garrosh couldn’t help it; he was a cocky warrior in battle, but bound and helpless all that bravado amounted to nothing. He cried out, a strangled roar of terror as Sylvanas descended upon him with the sharp blade, slicing into his flesh, not stabbing him, but rather carefully making an incision around his shoulders, a circular incision. She then made one down his spine and one down his chest. Then the incision around his waist began. She hummed cheerily to herself as she worked, a twisted smile gracing that lovely face. Garrosh roared with pain the entire time, helpless to do anything.
       “Oh, come now, don’t be such a baby, Garrosh. I haven’t even started peeling yet, however will you survive that if you’re in agony over a few simple incisions?” Sylvanas clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
       “Y…You’re insane! I will have you killed for this!” Garrosh snarled between sharp gasps of pain.
       “How? No one knows what is happening here. You disappeared battling the Scourge, like many a Horde hero, isn’t that what you want, Garrosh? To be a hero of the Horde?” Sylvanas taunted. “And you’re probably right, I may very well be insane, but years of wallowing in hatred and being persecuted tends to have that effect on a person.” Sylvanas slowly began to work the chest skin free, oh so careful not to rip it, trying to get a clean chunk as she leaned down to lick the blood from the skin still present around the neck and shoulders. “Mmm…For all your foulness and bile, your blood is delicious…perhaps I should have been reborn one of that council of blood suckers Arthas employs instead of a banshee.” Sylvanas chuckled as she continued to lap deeply at the blood as she pulled the first long wide strip of flesh free.
     Garrosh was fighting to avoid going into shock from the agonizing pain and blood loss he was suffering. Now one half of his chest was devoid of flesh, his finely sculpted gargantuan muscles exposed to the cold. His angry works and sounds came no longer, though his eyes focused hazily yet hateful on Sylvanas as she began to work on the next piece, still licking at the neck line. “Mmm…. You know, Garrosh, I don’t think you’re going to make it to the ghoul stage of the toxin…What a pity, I had thought you would last longer, but if you’re already beginning to go into shock, well then, I can’t see you surviving the rest of the skinning. Well, it’s a good thing your internal organs are unneeded, they’ll be dying within an hour at most since as you know I have no intention at all of stemming the blood flow.” Sylvanas gave a horrifyingly calm and good natured smile, one that had not been seen on her face since long before her death. “In fact, I think I may just make it worse.” She smirked wickedly, lifting the knife. “It’ll be easier to harvest the rest of your skin when you’re dead anyway.” Her eyes flashed a moment.

       And in that moment, she leapt onto Garrosh’s lap, her feet placed on his thighs and she seemed about to plunge the knife into his throat. “No…Wait….That would make this too easy for you. You’ve put me through trouble since you were brought here from your home world and I’m sure you were not merciful towards Jaina when she was in your clutches…No…You should suffer…Besides, you have good eyes. I may have use of them.” And with that, Sylvanas expertly slid that knife back into her boot and pulled out a much smaller and thinner one. “Yes, here we go.” She held Garrosh’s left eye open with her thumb and forefinger and carefully slid the knife in alongside, working carefully to sever the nerve just right to it could be reconnected by the finest scientists her people had to offer. Once it was severed, she very carefully eased it out of the socket and got down from his lap, placing it gingerly in a container with many other pairs of eyes.

      She sauntered back over, now straddling Garrosh’s lap as she went to take out the other one. She couldn’t tell if he’d died or passed out from shock but along with no more noise, he also wasn’t struggling anymore. Thinking nothing of it, she removed the second eye without incident and smirked at the bleeding, unmoving form. “Well, I have what I need; I think I’ll leave you here until you’ve passed entirely. Give you your last potential moments of life to think about what you’ve done, monster. Or…worse yet, I could stay. You can no longer see, but the last thing you will ever hear is my voice.” Sylvanas thought. “They say your hearing is the last function to go when you die, though to be fair, I took your sight, so you have well be listening for quite a while. Let’s make sure you can’t make any smart retorts. I mean, I doubt you can now, but why take a chance?” Sylvanas pried open Garrosh’s mouth, grabbed his tongue with one hand and her longer more brutal knife in the other, slicing it out. “Now…what to do with this? If I put it in a guard, I am sure to have a mouthy servant. I can’t stand that! However, I do hear that tongue is delicious; did you know in her corporeal form a banshee can also practice cannibalism? Though you’re more beast than humanoid, so it may not count.” Sylvanas mused as she opened her mouth, taking a bite out of the severed tongue. “Hmm…Not as tasty as your blood….” Sylvanas grimaced, spitting out some and tossing it aside. “Quite foul, in fact. Oh well maybe the dark hounds that wander Tirisfal Glades will find it more palatable. Farewell, oaf.” Sylvanas waved nonchalantly to the now extremely dead Garrosh Hellscream, leaving the room to go find someone to teleport her back to Dalaran. She had business to attend to.
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Beneath A Moonless Sky