Wanderers of the Wasteland

Asphyxious and the Jabberwocky rolled across the ancient shrine in a snap of claws, teeth, and the lash of their tails while they tumbled and cracked marble and stone which exploded into clouds of dust around them. The mythic monster's multiple maws drooled and bit at the transformed dragon's natural scaled armor. Around them, Asphy's allies were forced to divide or else be crushed under their massive, muscled bulk. More columns were crashed into, and toppled with heavy thuds.

Danse Macabre cried over the noise, “Can it be destroyed? We may have to seal it!”

“Easier said than done,” admitted Shadow Scythe between clenched teeth. “The Necronomicon's out of control!” The hellbound book continued to rattle its tattered pages while it glowed and the stitched-together, twisted and mummified faces on its cover moaned and writhed in agony. It worked to summon more reinforcements, as it whisked around the shrine out of their reach.
Asphy started to internally count down the seconds he could maintain this form.

“Thirty...twenty-nine...twenty-eight...” Not much time. Savagely, his maw closed around one of the Jabberwocky's heads, even when its claws tore into his breast, and ripped the head clean off, letting out jets of flame to melt it skin! Black ooze gushed from the wound as it howled. Bellatrix's hellfire blazed to seal the open wound, which hissed and steamed when she sealed it. Around her, the succubi, reapers, and witches poured on mystic attacks of their own, which battered at the Jabberwocky's scaled defenses, stripped piece-by-piece. Asphy used the opportunity to strain his claws and wrench another head clean off.

“Three...two...one...” In a blink, the drake's transmutation reverted in a blaze of blue flames. The Jabberwocky's claws sank into his gut. Not that there was any time to tend to him, as the Jabberwocky continued to lash out wildly as more mystic flames sealed the neck of another lost head. The gutted swordsman fell.

“Damn,” hissed Bella. “Man down! Sisters, protect him!” Sanguine, Xanadu, Nymphette, and Kismet rushed to flock around the wounded swordsman, and peppered the Jabberwocky with more magic, some which sizzled uselessly off his scales, while others managed to strip off more shiny scales.

“Let me help,” called Cerise, who raised another crystalline pillar around the ankles of the Jabberwocky, and momentarily pinned it in place while it thrashed even harder and roared.

Trixie bent over to look at their fallen ally. “Is he dead...?”

A smirk crossed Asphy's face when he opened his eyes, his executioner's sword now in hand. He suddenly remembered something old, almost forgotten with time, for he'd not needed to use it. After all, this wasn't his sword, yet it held a few tricks. Back on his feet, he voiced the words that came to mind. “Biting fang and rendering claw, fear of death are at the door. Face the beast that hunts for thee, for tonight all things feast, tonight we feast of blood and rotten meat. First blood of a mortal man, last blood of a monster's hand. Your soul is forfeit and so are your lands. Off with its head.... Snicker snack...” The executioner's sword reacted to his will, with the help of his benefactor, like a makeshift Vorpal Sword when he struck home.

All its remaining heads were cleaved off at once and rolled at his boots. With an opportunity at hand, every caster present poured on more flames while Cerise strained to keep the beast pinned.

“Got...cha...” Asphy crumpled into a pool of his own hot blood while his sword clanked by him. “My bastard...boss...” Somewhere, he figured Grayscale Carnifex laughed at his fate. Asphy really hated him.

"Grab that book,” shouted Shadow Scythe, as the tome darted away from her grasp.

“I...I'm trying! Telekinesis can't hold it!” Danse tried like her to seize it in his aura, but even combined they were no match for the Necronomicon's power while it attempted to summon more monstrosities. With the time it took to work its spell, they feared it would unleash a creature far worse than even the mythic Jabberwocky. In desperation, Beatrix tried to blast it out of the air.

The beams she and Trixie struck it with bounced off harmlessly. “No use,” lamented Bea.

Bellatrix flew up and intercepted the tome, which she crushed to her breast despite the dangers. She growled and strained to try and close the cover while the grimoire radiated darkness around it. What she realized, to her horror, was the it hoped to corrupt and control her with its darkness.

The Necronomicon sensed she would be a worthy host. Powerful, intelligent, capable of above-average dark magic, plus demons would flock to the succubus mistress and serve her cause!

“Bellatrix,” yelled Shadow Scythe. “Break away!”

“I...I can't...!” The necronomicon compelled her, pitted its considerable will against her own, and attempted to invade and possess her. “You already made me a prisoner once! No more!”

With a painful hiss, she hurled the accursed book from her. Shadow Scythe rushed to meet it with Danse Macabre, and their scythes connected with the book, able to strip away its own magical barrier with their enchanted weapons. The aura around it dulled, and its cover slammed shut.

"It's done,” announced Shadow Scythe. She admitted, “You did well, Danse.”

“Thank you.” He smiled shyly, unused to praise from her. “What about Asphyxious? Is he-?”

“Dead? Not yet unfortunately. I could use a powerful zombie minion,” mused Shadow.

“No zombies,” snapped Beatrix. “He helped save our cute butts!”

Cerise looked mournfully at the bloodied swordsman. “Can he be saved?” She tried to remember the medical skill's her country's handmaiden and priestess used to tend to her wounds when she knelt beside him. “Oh, it's no use! I wish I'd paid more attention and practiced harder!”

“Allow me,” offered Shadow. “No undead, I promise.”

She and Danse Macabre applied what they knew from extensive study in the Order of Reapers. A sense of quiet and solitude once more settled over the shrine. They cleaned and stiched Asphy's wounds, the reapers able to naturally regenerate after they were awakened, and the pair of them had extensive knowledge of anatomy. Beatrix, Trixie, and Cerise fetched what supplies were on hand.

“He's stable,” noted Shadow. “Give him a few hours to rest.”

"Maybe some more sex would help,” offered Kismet, who sipped her way over. Asphy only growled, not fully away but he must be aware enough to hear them.

“I don't think that's wise in his state,” said Danse with a small blush.

“Oh, poo.” Kismet thrust her hands on her hips. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Nymphette added hopefully, “Break more shit?” She kicked the Jabberwocky's corpse.

“Careful,” warned Xanuda, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Don't want to reawaken it.”

“Don't be so superstitious,” said Sanguine, who licked her chops at the dragon-like beast. “Wonder what it tastes like? I don't know about the rest of you bitches, but I'm completely starved!”

Bellatrix landed near them and declared, “I doubt it's safe to eat. Better not to chance it. You do raise a point, however. What are we meant to do now? Explore aimlessly to save this planet?”

“Our only guide's out of it,” noted Beatrix. “And we don't have many leads."

“Allow me to shed some light on the situation,” came the booming voice of another reaper clad in hooded gray robes to house his muscular, scaled bulk. Weapons were drawn at Grayscale Carnifex, who curled his snout in a smile. “Now, now, no need for that! Allow me to introduce myself!”
He told them his name, his role as the founder of the Order of Reapers, and how he'd drawn in Asphyxious here and become his benefactor.

Asphy weakly twitched an ear while he listened to his exposition. “...I've done my best to preserve the memories of everyone here. For once you're forgotten, it would be almost impossible to rebuild you. The vast multiverse collapses. Chaos and evil reigns. I attempt to keep the balance, but since my very presence can alter reality, I use agents like Asphyxious here to do my 'dirty work'. Beatrix has been used for a similar purpose!”

“Gee..thanks,” muttered Bea, a hand on a thrust out hip.

“Cut to the chase,” demanded Shadow Scythe. “How do we save ourselves?”

“I must second that notion,” said Bellatrix with a dark nod and swish of her spaded tail. “My patience is at its limit, too. None of us here wish to serve as your pawns.”

“Understandable. Yet I had little alternative in order to preserve you,” said Carnifex. “In truth, this adventure is more of a 'fetch quest' to preserve everyone here, as I needed you all to better remember who you are and help will yourselves and each other back into existence! Most of the multiverse out there is a void now. You must survive until it settles! Also...”

Bella demanded, “Also what?”

“I wanted to seek possible candidates to replenish the Order of Reapers,” he explained with a nod at Asphyxious. “He seems a promising candidate, although a tad denser than my usual picks. But I can't be too choosy in such a dire situation! High intelligence, temperament, the ability to detach when needed...you were an ideal reaper, Shadow Scythe, were it not for your villainous turn!”

"Fuck... You..." Asphyxious growled out breathlessly. Seemly only half-awake now, however slowly recovering.

“I...can't recall that well,” confessed Shadow Scythe, but sensed his words were true, and her heart ached. “I had a lover-”

“Safely in another sector of the multiverse for now,” premused Carnifex. “Like a number of Beatrix's old allies!” He plucked up the 'Necronomicon', really more a phantom memory of the destroyed tome. “Unfortunately, this planet still is doomed, whatever we do to try and preserve it!”

Beatrix asked, “Can you whisk us away?”

“Of course! Unfortunately, since your continued existence once we leave this world will depend on one's will, unless you maintain a strong sense of who you are, you'll fade into oblivion the moment we leave. The succubi in particular haven't had much room to establish themselves...”

“Quite a dilemma,” noted Bellatrix with a melancholy look at her sisters.

Cerise asked, “We have how much time left? A couple weeks?”

“More or less if we're lucky,” said Carnifex. “Even I don't know for certain! The wastelands out there will continue to shrink inward, until the planet's core collapses completely, all at once!”

Trixie strolled forward and demanded, “Can't you help us out more, Carny?”

“It's...more than I admitted,” he confessed. “I received a terrible wound which never healed. Each movement I made causes me to bleed out a little more. I can literally feel the years drain away! Granted, a dragon can live for thousands upon thousands of years, but I'm already ancient! So, to preserve the multiverse and mortals like you that inhabit it, I endeavor to preserve myself!”

“So we leave Asphy here or stay until he wakes up,” mused Trixie.

“The succubus inspired an idea,” noted Carnifex. “Xanadu, you can drain the life force of others to heal yourself, not unlike a power Bellatrix used to have in her seraphic form? And like Bella's power, it can be reversed! So, maybe if you take dear Asphy here for a ride to perk him back up...”

“I'd be happy to try,” said Xanadu, who allowed what scant clothes she wore to pool at her feet. Mindful of his wounds, she unceremoniously mounted Asphy, all but tore his pants open, and started to rub her wet cunt on his three cocks, which slowly started to rise in response. “The flesh is certainly willing.” She clasped his hands, and raised them to her ample titties which he squeezed.

“So hot~,” said Kismet, who started to openly rub her own wet snatch.

“It's always sex with you fools,” noted Shadow Scythe with a roll of her eyes, yet she couldn't deny she missed her own seraphic lover, and struggled to picture him in her mind. Meanwhile, the horned succubus started to take Asphy for a ride, until Xanadu bounced with a slap of her pale flesh.

Over-and-over, his cocks drove up into her, two buried in her pussy, the last one in her asshole. She jiggled all over with each bounce atop him, cast back her horned head and arched her breast with a moan, while a stream of her energies funneled from her holes into his flesh. His hands moved on instinct with a low snarl, while he rolled her tits in circles and teased her wide, erect nipples.

Finally, with a growl he came inside her. She gushed over him, felt his warmth fill her, while she sapped her own strength to help heal the wounded swordsman. Finally, she slumped over him, spent. He rose and murmured, “Thanks.” Gently, he passed her half-conscious body to Bella. Then, he petted Xanadu on the head.

Kismet asked, “Is she okay...? She's not dead, is she...?”

Xanadua offered a limp wave. “Just...a little under the weather. I'll recover.”

Shadow Scythe demanded, “Does this mean we can move out soon? There's little more to see here. I've thoroughly searched the ruins with Danse, but we haven't discovered much of note.”

Asphyxious stumbled to his feet and zipped up his pants. “Yeah. I'm ready.” He flexed his arms to see they still worked okay, and noted his wounds had mostly healed, albeit he was still weak. Plus he couldn't pull his transformation stunt anytime soon. He spat, “Where to next, Gray? And next time I demand the use of my cutlass.” The half dragon growled.

“Hmm...seems you've found most of Beatrix's closest allies that aren't currently in different sections of the multiverse. Still, there's one last place you should check, to be sure. A shame Xanadu can't heal wounds this deep, or I'd come too. Finish this and I'll consider you a worthy candidate to become one of my reapers,” mused the founder himself with a deep chuckle.

With a solitary nod, Asphyxious received directions across the wastelands, to a place nestled somewhere at the very heart of the vast emptiness which made up a planet which continued to shrink and crumble by the day. Grayscale Carnifex waved a scaly, clawed hand to open a window into the far distance, where a haunted manor started to manifest on the misty moors.

Beatrix, Bellatrix, Shadow Scythe, and Cerise widened their eyes, as a shared memory unlocked between them. The mansion was alive, an eldritch entity which had taken a physical shape to lure its prey in. Shadow Scythe had warred with them there...until, upon Shadow's defeat, Bellatrix made a deal with the entity, and in return for nourishment formed a symbiotic bond with the beast.

"Cool haunted house, let's collect some lost souls." Asphy said more to himself. This got a few looks from the others, wondering what he was talking about.

Thus, it had become Beatrix's home, for a time. Before irritation at Bellatrix, who exploited it to help Beatrix and her friends to win a desperate war and left the eldritch beast wounded, caused the creature to betray and abandon them. Even from this vision, it clearly brimmed with life.

Cerise balked and shivered. “We have to step back into the monster's maw...?” She remembered Shadow's scythe at her throat, ready to behead the innocent damsel-in-distress.

“You beat it once,” reminded Shadow Scythe with ambivalence. “It can be done again!” She'd made her own deal with the manor, to increase her power, reminded of the villain she'd once been.

“Maybe I can convince it to make a deal,” offered Bellatrix dubiously. “Like last time.” She'd tried to befriend the ravenous beast, to teach it morality, despite her own amoral nature.

Beatrix took her mother's hand, suddenly fearful that she'd lose Trixie forever, and asked, “Why are we headed there anyway? Do we have to preserve that monster mansion, too?”

“Exactly,” said Carnifex. “Although it may not go quietly? Save the eldritch entity, if you can. It could be your only escape route, should I fall.” He rubbed the armored scale he used as a patch over his muscled bulk to staunch the constant bleeding from when he'd been struck by a dimensional knife, which assured the years would constantly drain from the ancient drake until he expired. "And Asphyxious, I'll let you know if you can use…. That weapon. You'll know when you can."

He was doomed to perish. Each movement he made drained more of his limited lifespan. Asphy only growled and rolled his eyes.

“I'll knock some sense into it,” spat Asphyxious, who rolled his muscled arm with a pop. Surely it couldn't be much worse than the Jabberwocky and the Necronomicon. And if it was, he'd be up for the challenge! Sword in hand dragging it behind him, the moment they were ready he set off in a march, surrounded by his fellow adventurers that also risked their lives for the sake of their continued survival.

Asphyxious had only one thought. They were screwed.