Master of Lust

"What the fuck..." the mercenary gasped, his rifle lowering.

Rick swung the severed arm exactly like a baseball bat. The meaty, bloody, severed shoulder end smashed directly into the side of the second mercenary’s Kevlar helmet.

CLANG!

The impact was so brutal and forceful it heavily dented the Kevlar helmet and instantly snapped the man’s neck with a sharp crack. He crumpled to the floor, completely dead before his knees even hit the tiles.

Rick carelessly tossed the useless, bloody arm aside. It slapped wetly against the corridor wall and slid down to the floor, leaving a thick red smear.

There was only one elite mercenary left. He was backing away rapidly, his hands shaking so violently he couldn’t even aim his rifle properly. He fired wild, desperate shots into the ceiling, terrified out of his mind.

Rick lunged forward. He closed the distance and kicked the man’s knee violently backward.

SNAP.

The mercenary screamed in pain, dropping his gun and falling hard onto his back. He scrambled backward like a panicked crab, trying to get away, leaving a thick trail of blood on the pristine white hospital floor.

"Stay back! Stay the fuck back, you psycho!" the man cried, kicking his good leg out.

Rick stood towering over him. He was drenched in gore from head to toe. His unzipped slacks were sticking uncomfortably to his legs.

Rick let out a loud, highly frustrated groan. He shook his head in absolute annoyance.

"Do you have any fucking idea how uncomfortable this is right now?" Rick yelled aggressively at the terrified, bleeding man. "I was right in the middle of a phenomenal, mind-blowing fuck! Now my premium tailored slacks are completely full of dried sweat and my own cum! This cheap fabric is aggressively chafing my dick with every step I take! It is incredibly annoying, and it’s all your fault!"

The mercenary just sobbed hysterically on the floor, holding his hands up over his face in a pathetic attempt to protect himself from the madman.

"Shut up," Rick barked, his patience entirely gone.

Rick raised his heavy, blood-soaked boot high into the air. He brought it down with crushing, ruthless, unapologetic force directly onto the mercenary’s face.

CRUNCH.

He stomped again, harder.

SQUELCH.

He stomped a third time, putting his full body weight into it, grinding his heel down.

The mercenary’s skull popped open like a dropped, overripe melon. Blood, sharp bone fragments, and thick grey brain matter squirted out across the linoleum tiles in a grotesque halo. The man’s body twitched violently once, and then went totally, permanently still.

Rick calmly wiped the bottom of his bloody boot on the dead man’s black tactical vest. He let out a long, heavy breath, rolling the tension out of his shoulders.

The hallway was dead silent. It looked exactly like a slaughterhouse. Fresh, bright red blood painted the walls, the ceiling, and the floors. Severed limbs, melted torsos, and shattered weapons were scattered everywhere.

Rick stood entirely alone in the middle of the carnage.

[Ding!]

[Elite Assault Squad Eliminated.]

[Reward: 50,000 XP]

[Reward: $10,000,000 added to account.]

[New Item Unlocked: ’Overkill Token’ added to inventory.]

Rick smirked slightly. The system payout was always worth the mess.

He turned around and walked slowly, confidently back down the hallway. His boots left sticky, bloody footprints on the white tiles with every step.

He stopped outside the open door of the supply closet. Agent X was still securely pinned to the wall by the broken mop handle, his dead, sightless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Rick stepped back inside the tiny, cramped room.

The strong, eye-watering smell of industrial bleach heavily mixed with the sharp, metallic stench of fresh blood and guts.

Rachel and Victoria were exactly where he left them, huddled together in the dark. Rachel had pulled her ripped emerald dress down slightly over her ass, but her black lace panties were still torn and hanging uselessly off one leg. Victoria was staring at Rick, her mouth slightly open, panting softly.

Rick was a genuinely terrifying sight. His face, his hair, his bare chest, and his shirt were completely saturated in dark red blood and small bits of human gore. He smelled like pure death and violence.

He reached up with a bloody hand and casually wiped a small, grey chunk of brain matter off his cheek. He flicked it onto the floor.

Rachel was shivering violently. Her strict, professional doctor persona was completely, utterly gone. She had just sat naked in the dark while she listened to men being literally ripped apart right outside the door.

[Ding!]

[Target Information: Victoria Warner]

[Carnal Calibrator: 100/100 (Primal Lust / Absolute Submission)]

[Feelings: She has never seen such brutal, unapologetic dominance. The raw violence turns her on more than anything else in the entire world. She wants to drop to her knees and worship you.]

[Target Information: Rachel Williams]

[Carnal Calibrator: 98/100 (Terrified / Desperate Lust)]

[Feelings: She is horrified by the gore, but her body cannot resist your protective, lethal, alpha nature. She feels safe only when she is entirely submitting to you.]

Rick reached down and finally zipped up his bloody slacks. He buckled his belt, adjusting himself uncomfortably as the fabric rubbed against his sensitive, chafed skin.

"Alright, ladies," Rick said casually, his voice completely relaxed, as if he had just taken out the recycling instead of slaughtering a heavily armed hit squad. "The VIP tour is moving out."

Victoria swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the hallway. "Are they... are they all dead?"

"Every single one of them," Rick smirked, stepping closer and grabbing Victoria’s chin, smearing a bit of blood on her cheek. "It got a little messy out there. You might want to watch your step."

He grabbed Rachel by her bare arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. He grabbed Victoria’s hand.

"Put your clothes back together as best as you can," Rick ordered crudely, looking at Rachel’s exposed cleavage and bare thighs. "We need to get off this floor before Oversight sends another cleanup crew. And my patience for shooting idiots is running very low."

Rachel nodded frantically. She quickly ripped off the remaining pieces of her torn black panties and adjusted her ruined emerald dress, her hands shaking.

Rick pushed the heavy metal closet door wide open, fully revealing the absolute, horrific bloodbath in the hallway to the two women.

"Stay close behind me," Rick said, stepping over a severed arm. "And don’t slip on the brains."

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