Fear the Fury of a Woman Scorned

The red stone desert was sweltering, and the heat radiating from the abnormal black sun was overwhelming. Hector approached the slave camp, being led by the same bulbous fiend who had brought him to Vikktor. He had learned the disgusting creature's name to be Borug, which Hector found fitting.

"How did you convince da Queen to spare you?" Borug hissed, not bothering to hide his displeasure.

Hector turned his gaze down onto the little fiend. His crimson eyes may not have had the snakelike pupils they had once possessed, but the inhuman color still gave him an intimidating stare.

Hector did not bother hiding his animosity and was no longer required to show his friends respect. "Who gave you permission to speak?" He demanded, disgust clear in his voice.

Boring met his gaze for a moment before turning his head down. "Well, excuse me, ma lord," he muttered bitterly.

'Disgusting fuckwit.' Hector thought in his mind, turning away from the creature. If there were one thing he hated about his new position, he would have to deal with these putrid things.

In the short time he had been in the First Infernal Trial, he had already developed a strong distaste for the creatures. The fiends seemed utterly incapable of controlling their nasty desires, doing as they pleased to the human slaves.

During his castle tour, Hector was shown a room where the fiends took the humans who could no longer work. The sight made Hector puke.

He could still faintly smell the scent of blood, forced reproduction, and rotting bodies. Having seen that scene, Hector had been renewed in his desire to kill the demons that ruled this land. Even Vikktor would die for ignoring these atrocities.

Hector had once been a vampire, but now he understood why these vampires were called demons. The evils that they allowed, even encouraged, were beyond terrible. Despite all her external beauty, Queen Hella was nothing more than a rotten fruit that needed to be disposed of.

Arriving at the quarry, Hector gazed over the ledge and into the mining site, which had been dug into the ground. By quick estimate, he guessed that nearly four hundred human slaves were being driven and controlled by just under two hundred fiends.

The smell of blood and sweat wafted into the air, the cracking of slave whips and screams of human misery dancing on the wind. 'I see why it's called Hell.' Hector thought to himself.

Gazing down at the workers, he waved for Gorug to speak. The little sack of scales and blubber grumbled to himself before addressing the quarry.

"Halt!" He shouted, his hoarse, squeaky voice echoing throughout the quarry, ending the sound of mining and the cracking of whips.

Humans and Demons alike raised their heads, gazing into the sun's unpleasant black rays, attempting to give Borug their attention.

Hector spotted another trainee, who he hadn't seen before, gaping at him. A quick search of the enslaved people revealed that the original group was no longer working. He assumed that they were likely sleeping in the burrows, temporarily resting to prevent the workforce from completely collapsing.

Seeing the workplace quiet, Borug coughed, clearing his voice before speaking. "Queen Hella has decreed! Human Hector Dracula Voss shall henceforth take command of the workforce, filling the formerly empty Slaver Captain position…"

The brief pause was all Hector needed to sense the fiends' hateful glares and the slaves' curious gazes. The trainee seemed completely stunned. Hector smirked, amused by the different reactions.

The moment of silence lasted only a moment. "Get back to work!" Hector shouted, his deep voice booming over the group. A harsh glint in his eyes scared the slaves and dashed their small hopes. It seemed that this human was truly a vampiric servant.

Walking over to a large temporary tent that had been used as a command tent, Hector opened the flap. The inside of the tent was surprisingly lavish. The ground was covered in soft rugs, and the furniture was organized in a pleasant manner. Despite the pleasantness of the tent, Hector snarled, anger flashing. Two fairly attractive human women were kneeling at the foot of the desk's large dark wood chair. Their wrists were chained, and their bodies were bruised, their chests bare and exposed. Covered in wounds inflicted by both hands and teeth, the poor women gazed up at him, their eyes somehow still holding the tiniest of hopes.

"Hey! That's my tent!" Barked Borug, whose fat body hurried to catch up to Hector.

Hector ignored the man's words, the familiar scene of human women chained and naked, sensing flashbacks shooting through his mind.

He was a boy. Stumbling upon the countless women in his father's dungeon had confused him. They were hurt, and he tried to help.

Images of his father catching him as he tried to give the women clothes flashed through his mind. Then, there was only pain. So much pain.

In the past, Hector had been a small boy, too weak and afraid to help the countless humans who had suffered under his father's rule. Now, he had power. Only a little, but it was better than nothing. He knew the moment he saw them that he would NOT leave them to suffer. Not again.

Before the complaining Borag could react, Hector's fist bashed the small fiend in the face, sending the horrid thing crashing into the ground.

He yelped and tried to scramble away, but Hector stopped him. He stepped forward, allowing his blood to boil and willing it to flow faster through him. He could feel the supernatural strength surge through him.

The fiend scrambled away, screaming words Hector could not hear. Hector moved, stomping down on Borug's leg, snapping the bone in a single strike. The crunch was sickening, the painful wails music to his ears.

Now desperate, Borag unsheathed his dagger and lunged at Hector. Unfortunately, already wounded and disoriented, the fiend was far too slow. Drawing his blade, Hector slashed out, the steel of his sword cutting through the thin bones and weak scales of the fat Borug, severing his hands from his arms.

Deep black blood poured out onto the rugs. Unable to struggle any longer, Borug began to plead in between painful wails.

The women sat stunned at the sight. Watching as their tormentor was brutally thrashed in a matter of seconds.

Hector stared down at the disgusting creature, watching as its face contorted in pain and fear, wailing desperately. Then, he turned to the two women. "Do you wish for me to kill him? Or would you rather do it yourselves?" He asked, his voice calm as he tried his best to hold back the flood of rage surging through him.

The two women blinked for a moment. The first girl then turned her green eyes up to Hector, meeting his gaze for the first time. Her short, raven-black hair framed her small, angular face, and her pale skin was covered in dust and grime.

"I want to do it." She hissed, her tone filled with pure venom as she stared at the whining slug of a creature.

Hector nodded, silently walking over to her and using a key that had been lying on the desk, out of the woman's reach, to unlock her manacles. The raven-haired woman stared at him warily but then turned and seized the knife on the ground.

Her eyes light up, fury boiling up from the darkest corners of her heart. "Die, you filth!" She shrieked before lunging forward and burying the weapon into the screaming creature's flesh.