Chapter 2 - Harsh Memories

The void swirled around Zariana as she floated endlessly through it. Everything was pitch black and there was no light source to speak of, yet she could still see everything clearly. Not that there was anything to see. The void was just as empty as the name suggested.


She was naked, her skinny pale body on display for the nothingness. There was no need for clothes in death, she figured. She didn’t cover her neatly trimmed crotch or her small breasts with her hands. Who was there to look at her in this place? She merely floated along, her body bobbing as if riding the invisible current of a soft stream. Zariana was alone with her thoughts. Never a good thing.

Her mind wandered to recent events. The deal with the Eredar had backfired. That was obvious from her current predicament, and at least Nokjub had been freed from her control by Hestia’s power. As she thought back to the scene it appeared before her, a vision forming from the void. There she was held by two Fel Guards that should have been an easy challenge. She could see the Eredar smiling down at her wickedly. Another opponent she should have easily been able to take. That damn Fel Hunter though, that was hard to get past. She watched as the vision showed the creature’s enormous shaft thrusting hard into her. She could still feel it pulling out, the unnatural bumps rubbing against her walls and sending unbidden shivers down her body.

Zariana swiped an angry hand over the image and it parted like smoke, fading back into black. She was furious with the Eredar bitch that had put her here, and with herself. She had told herself nobody would ever take her like that. She had grown powerful to prevent the fate that befell…

Zariana saw her body floating towards another vision, rushing towards it to relive the memory she just conjured. She tried to stop herself, to wash the vision away, but she couldn’t help but rush into a memory she no longer wanted to remember, let alone experience again.

The void, it seemed, had over plans for her.

It was a small farm in Elwynn Forest, consisting of a small orchard of apple trees. Most days Zariana would find herself wandering the rows of trunks while reading some book her father had picked up while in town. Life was simpler then, before she knew the cruelty of the world.

It was sunny and bright, the perfect summer’s afternoon, as the naked warlock floated through her memory. It wasn’t the pooled vision like her recent one; this memory surrounded everything around her as if she were there once again. They were heading towards the house; her and the young memory version of herself walking beside her and humming softly. The girl was fourteen and had her raven hair pulled back into a practical bun. She didn’t have a care in the world. Her father was gone to the market and her mother… well her mother had passed on shortly after she was born, claimed by the first horde invasion. It was just her and her sister at the Orchard today.

The pair moved from the tree line and made their way over to her second favorite spot: a small reading nook she had made just under the kitchen window near the stove. She would sit here and read for hours as the wonderful smell of dinner wafted out of the open window. The older Zariana tried to wrest this memory away, thrashing at whatever force was holding her to this place, but she could not even find the strength of will to move.

When she arrived at the window, the usual smell of bread was absent. Instead she heard a soft whimper from her sister and a growl of a male voice she didn’t recognize, “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.”

Zariana (the memory version) crouched low to the ground and moved to the window. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she knew that Maria had a few gentlemen who called on her regularly, seeking her hand. She didn’t want to get caught listening in or peeking. Plus, something in the male voice unsettled her.

As Zariana got on a crate next to the window sill and poked her head up for a good view, she heard Maria say, “N-no one else is here. My family is gone s-sir.”

As the memory of her caught her first glimpse into the room, the real her was thrown into the small house to get a front row seat for what was coming next.

Two different emotions flowed through two different Zariana’s as she took in the sight inside the house. For the younger version it was horror at seeing her sister, who was a rather shapely woman with long braided hair, laying down but propped up on one arm while a man in brown clothes and a black bandana pulled his vest off, revealing a heavily scarred chest. She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp at the sight of the bruises already showing on Maria’s eye, wrist, and neck and the bloody lip she sported.

For the real Zariana, floating naked in front of the man but unseen by everyone, there was burning hatred. This man had cost her everything; A normal life, basic human emotion (though she rarely missed that) and, worst of all, her family. As he loosened the belt on his clothes and commanded in a gruff voice, “Best get out of your clothes, girl,” Zariana wished that she could see the man’s face.

Her body spun slowly in whatever force had her, turning her so she was forced to watch her own sister strip quickly out of her simple dress. Unlike Zariana, Maria was very full chested and had a pair of child bearing hips that no doubt had made her the fantasy woman of every boy in Elwynn at least once. Now here she was, large breasts and untrimmed bush on display for a man she was terrified of. One who reached through Zariana’s body and grabbed Maria by her braid, yanking her to her knees and jamming her throat full of his shaft without any semblance of ceremony.

The sensation of being passed through sent Zariana’s incorporeal form into a spasm and sent the memory onto a swirling vortex for a moment. Zariana was hopeful that the disruption would have destroyed the memory, but too soon it solidified again, this time with her a few feet away from the scene and stuck in place facing it. The gagging was the first thing she noticed. She remembered panicking that her sister was being choked to death in some cruel manner. She watched as strings of spit dripped off of Maria’s chin.

She knew it would only get worse from here.

Zariana and her memory self watched as the masked man used her sister’s mouth for his sick pleasure. Back in the day she had no indication that a mouth could be used in such a sexual way. Now she knew better. Maria gagged and choked each time the man’s large shaft forced its way down her throat. A small puddle of spit was starting to form on the ground and coat Maria’s chin and chest. Her eyes were wet with a mixture of tears from being degraded and the body’s natural response to having something hit her gag reflex.

A while later, much longer in her memory than she remembered when she was actually there, the man gripped her head hard and pushed his dick deep into her mouth. Maria struggled to keep herself breathing, her nostrils flaring as she tried not to make this man mad by interrupting his fun. Zariana heard him growl, “That’s it you fucking tease. Take my cum down your throat!” as what she could still see of his cock twitched and no doubt shot ropes of hot cum down Maria’s throat. The girl closed her eyes tightly, swallowing as best she could.

When he was finished, the masked man pulled himself out of her mouth, letting her double over to cough bits of spit onto the ground. While she choked and retched, he moved behind her and pushed her forward. Maria’s face pressed into the puddle of her own spit as he lined up behind her and gave her ass a hard smack that reverberated through the room. Zariana remembered watching his glistening cock as he held it, slapping her pussy a few times with it as he chuckled.

“Time to do what I came here for, tease. I’m going to be the first one to fuck your tight cunt.”

Maria could only whimper out a soft, “P-Please don’t.”

He ignored her, lining up his slick shaft with her entrance. Again Zariana tried to look away, not wanting to see this monster defile her sister yet again. But however she shifted her head, the scene before her seemed to move with her. This meant she had a prime view of the man as he shoved into Maria.

The cry of pain that Maria let out as she was penetrated without hesitation would have set Zariana’s blood to boiling, if she hadn’t already been at that point to begin with. The warlock knew that was her sister’s first time. She knew it would also be her last. She desperately hoped that this wouldn’t play through every agonizing moment of the event, plus everything that followed. Watching her sister fall into a deep depression after this rape, her friends treating her like a leper and the abundance of male suitors dwindling to nothing because she was “damaged goods.” This would lead Zariana to her last look at her sibling; seeing her dangling from a rope in the barn, smiling softly for the first time in months.

Maria sobbed as she was penetrated again and again, her body rocking as the bandit gripped her braid again to help pull her back. Each thrust brought with it a loud slapping sound and caused her sister's large tits to sway under her. Zariana felt the force holding her slacken, and she shot forward as quickly as she could. If she could just get one glimpse at the man who had ruined her life. One look at his face under the mask. She reached him and wrapped her fingers around it, pulling it down to get a view of him.

His face was blank from the nose down and there was no mouth or features. Then the scene warped around her noticeably. The sky outside grew darker and the masked man grew fiercer in his strokes into his sister. She didn’t remember him wrapping his fingers around her neck, nor did she remember his eyes glowing an eerie yellow. Then his limbs stretched and turned from pale human skin to long, purple tendrils that snaked around Maria’s body. The worst was the noise. A thousand voices whispered and murmured to her, all barely audible and unintelligible. Over that was the sound of Maria moaning, crying out to be fucked harder and how much she loved it. She certainly hadn’t done more than whimper at the rape before.

Zariana saw spiked tentacles burst from the ground, accompanied by a jumble of words in a language she didn’t understand but tore at her mind as if it had claws. The tentacles wrapped around the Warlock’s legs and arms, spreading her body wide and digging in with their sharp points. She panicked and thrashed against the tentacles, trying in vain to pull away from what had her.

Then she felt the familiar tug of something else. It was what she was waiting for all along. Her soulstone, the contingency she had put in place before her death, was finally activating to bring her back to life. She reached out with her magic and grabbed her lifeline, letting it pull her free from the tendrils and back towards life.

The last thing she experienced before the void faded was a single, giant eye watching her leave and the masked man’s evil laughter trailing after her.