'The Story That Lasted Thirty-One Days'

Hurry, this broth is way too sweet we need more seasoning shouted the cook, we need more bitterness, but not much, you need another young one, questioned the bloated High Priestess.

To confirm she sucked the fatty intestine like meat, from a broiled babies thigh bone, it slipped down her gullet like defecation down a sewer. With a wave of her six-fingered hand, six sycophantic Azuki-Pierogi dropped from their perches and lurched with rolling shoulders into the herd of slave labour. It didn't take them long to spot the young and still plump boy, sat on the floor near Halloween.

It seemed no one contested the will Azuki-Pierogi, that was certain death. Oh my god thought Halloween, there's no way this is going to stay on plan, they'd intended to slay the Priestess or a Princess or two, but not save the life of some cocky boy. However, the look of resignation in his eyes said it all, even though he'd shown no fear or asked for mercy, the level of horror, etched on his face was intolerable.

With a sleight of hand, she slipped the Weir Wolf's claw from the necklet and fixed it into the open jaws on the butt of a shining crystal blade that she'd drawn from a hidden scabbard. With the speed and agility of a black panther, she lept over the boy and gutted the first of the Azuki-Pierogi with the blade before it knew she was there, she spun around and with arm outstretched, with her long sharp ebony fingernails she'd ripped out the second's throat , it never made a sound as it stood there rocking like some demented toy.

The third only had enough time to emit a tiny squeak, before his head was rolling across the floor. The fourth and fifth hit the ground at the same time, Almanac had parted their matted hair with one swift stroke of his twin-bladed Niobium Carbide axe, the sixth turned to run but was split in two, from the top its head to its groin by the Weir Wolf's Claw and not a sound had they muttered, just a bump on the ground.

Dark sinister shadows appeared at the doors, their way was blocked by a hoard of the monstrous hornySchnozzles, their tensile proboscis had sensed the spilling of fowl blood and they filled with excitement at joining the sport. Halloween and Almanac looked at each other with a gleam in their eye, what have we got loose, let's make hay while the sun shines, ripping off their tattered slave clothing, they were now dressed for war, and shared a passionate kiss before racing headlong into the throng of Schnozzles and their protruding proboscis.

https://youtu.be/4-i_swBM0B4