Cave of Horror
by Paco Andante

On the floor of the chamber stood a forge, the open maw of which spilled forth a red glow, lighting the nearer part of the scene. The cavern extended a long distance beyond, dimly illuminated by smoking torches set in sconces on the cavern wall. A passageway led out of the chamber in the far wall. Before the forge stood a smith, an enormous, ugly creature, with huge arms and a belly to match. His forearms were nearly black with old burn scars. He was naked but for a leather apron, his skin was a light green, his face bore a strong resemblance to that of a pig and his hairy legs terminated in hooves rather than feet.

He bent to peer into the caged inferno. Nearby, an assistant or apprentice, a smaller version of the hideous smith, worked the bellows from which came wheezing sounds. The smith drew a glowing object from the fire. It was a large sword blade, heated to bright red. He carried it toward the anvil standing a few feet from the forge and examined it closely. He beat it briefly with a heavy hammer, evidently smoothing some imperfection. After a few clanging blows, he carried it back and placed it back in the fire.

He shouted angry words to the assistant, "Pump, you worm. Dammit, this is to be a special sword for the King!"

The smaller monster pumped the bellows with renewed vigor.

A group of guards, all monsters like the smith but clad in leather armor, entered the cavern. Two armed horrors flanked a naked human man. Young, with large muscles, he half walked and was half dragged by his guards behind the leader. There were bleeding welts of whip lashes on his body. He appeared to be semi-conscious, perhaps drugged.

The smith lit two torches in a dark corner near the forge, revealing a wooden "X", formed from heavy timbers and stained with nameless fluids, leaning against the cavern wall. The guards chained the hapless captive face down on this cross, as the smith drew the sword blade from the glowing coals. It now glowed a bright yellowish red in its heat.

Satisfied that the captive was securely fastened, his arms and legs spread dreadfully wide, the guards saluted the smith and exited from the cavern. For a moment, all that was heard was the wheezing of the bellows as the assistant furiously pumped, the fluttering of the torch-flames and the low moans of the captive chained to the almost-horizontal cross, his head lolling toward his chest.

The smith, returning the blade to the heat, made a thorough examination of the captive's bonds, assuring himself that they were secure. He made an unintelligible remark to the assistant, who guffawed evilly, still pumping the bulging bellows.

He moved to stand between the splayed legs of the crucified captive and laughed softly, expressing evil mirth as his fingers explored the wounds on the man's back. The smith hawked and spit between the captive's buttocks.

Deliberately, the smith untied his apron and dropped it to the floor. In so doing, he revealed an erect member the size of a man's forearm. He once more spit, anointing the tip of the enormous thing. His big hands spread the cheeks of the captive and, amidst the screams of the latter, plunged his huge instrument into the orifice so revealed. Slowly at first, but then with increasing vigor, the smith plundered the captive, amidst his screams of torment. Over and over the greenish rod slammed into the helpless captive, whose painful screaming and thrashing shook the thick timbers of the cross.

For ten minutes, each of which must have seemed like hours to the wretched captive, the smith took his twisted pleasure, until at last he shook and groaned in release. When he was done, he withdrew his withered and shrunken rod. In a moment, he picked up the apron and donned it slowly, then doused the captive's hind quarters with buckets of water, sluicing away the blood, shit and semen.

"D'you allus bugger 'em?" the assistant grunted.

"Shame to waste 'em."

The sounds of a large number of feet approaching from the direction of the passageway were suddenly heard.

A horde of creatures as monstrous in appearsnce as the smith issued forth from the passageway below at a run. There were carriers of drums and whips, and leather clad warriors armed to the teeth, but the horde entered quietly, spilling out onto the floor of the chamber below like a living tide of horror, until at least two hundred of them had entered.

At last, there was a pause in the tide, and after a moment, a black-robed procession entered. At its head walked a large monster, dressed like the other three, but wearing an elaborate headdress. The warriors bowed low as they entered.

The smith drew the blade from the coals. It now had attained a white heat, and its light brightened the cavern walls. He carried it in tongs held in gloved hands to the procession's leader and knelt, speaking a brief speech in their strange tongue. The leader replied, gestured over the glowing blade, and turned to face the crowd. He raised his arms in the air, and the horde fell to their knees.

The smith rose and, still carrying the glowing weapon, approached the captive. He jerked the captive's head back by the hair with his left hand. A cry and moan of terror was heard. The smith dropped the captive's head and examined the sword again. Apparently satisfied, he stepped beside the wooden frame, and with a quick sweep of his hand, plunged the weapon sideways through the captive's buttocks. The man's screams echoed through the cavern as the monstrous audience nodded and grinned. Steam and smoke rose from the scene along with the odor of cooking flesh. There was little blood, for the heated weapon cauterized the wounds as it went.

Three times more the smith pierced fleshy parts of the man's body as he writhed and screamed. The blade had been cooled by its passages, and was now a dull cherry red. The smith spoke one word, stepped around to place himself between the legs of the captive, aimed its point between the buttocks, and with one great shove buried the blade to the hilt in the orifice he had so recently violated. The man's scream choked off with a gurgling sound, and steaming blood gushed from his mouth and nose. The monster horde sprang to its feet, cheering and beating their drums thunderously. The sound was deafening as it echoed in the cavern.

As steam and blood flowed from both ends of the captive's writhing and twitching body, the monsterous strode from the cavern. Then the smith's assistant followed the armed horde, then the smith himself, and the robed ones were last to leave.

A hush fell over the chamber. For a long while nothing changed, and the twitching of the body slowly ceased.

Then several small, furry creatures entered from a tiny opening in a dark corner. They scurried about the floor of the cavern, twittering to one another in squeaky voices. Then one discovered the crucified man and shrieked. In a flurry of fur, the creatures congregated around him. One of the creatures stood on hind legs beneath the captive's dangling penis and testicles and chirruped excitedly at the others. Several creatures joined him and all chattered in excitement while toying with the hanging things they had found.

One of the creatures produced a small knife and deftly cut the dangling objects down. They took them along as they scampered away back to their tunnels.

The cavern grew silent once more.