The Dungeon of Depraved Beasts (An Erotic Horror Novel)

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The Dungeon of Depraved Beasts (An Erotic Horror Novel) Page 1

by Bellucci, Bree




  THE DUNGEON OF DEPRAVED BEASTS:

  An Erotic Horror Novel

  By

  Bree Bellucci

  Kindle Edition

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Red Garnet Media LLC on Amazon KDP

  The Dungeon Of Depraved Beasts: An Erotic Horror Novel

  Copyright © 2013 by Bree Bellucci

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Adult Reading Material

  The material in this document contains explicit sexual content that is intended for mature audiences only and is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age.

  * * * * *

  THE DUNGEON OF DEPRAVED BEASTS:

  An Erotic Horror Novel

  * * * * *

  Chapter 1

  * * * * *

  Olivia slipped her ear buds into her ears and adjusted the bag that was slung over her shoulder. It was near six in the evening, and she had to be across campus in thirty minutes for the department awards dinner. It was one of the first warm evenings in early May, and she couldn’t bear not being outside, let alone away from her beloved campus that she was set to leave in two weeks time.

  Instead of driving, Olivia opted to walk across campus, cutting through the serene little park aptly named Peaceful Plot. Often, Olivia would see families and the like playing on the small, quaint playground, or local yuppie alumni, sprawled out on picnic blankets.

  Knowing a short cut through a thick grove of trees that were especially fragrant now, Olivia moved towards them, glad she had packed her sneakers today. Her ballet flats were stowed away in her bag for the dinner. Olivia had made quite a name for herself, becoming one of the shining stars early on in the Fine Arts Department. She painted pseudo-impressionist pieces reminiscent of an era that was simpler and uncomplicated. Olivia was honored to be receiving the most prestigious award tonight, Best Emerging Artist. The award had only been given out six times in the ninety-four years of the college’s history. And three of those recipients went on to have amazing careers.

  Olivia smiled as Taylor Swift crooned in her ear about the month of December, and she thought of how she not only was receiving an award, but also presenting one to a freshman who showed promising work. Olivia inhaled the fragrant blooms, but picked up her pace, not wanting to be late.

  Just as Olivia reached the thickest part of the trees, she thought she heard a noise over her music. She slipped one bud out of her ear and froze. She strained to listen and then she heard it; a low moaning sound. Tearing the other bud out of her ear, she moved off the path, trying to locate the source of the sound. Again she heard a soft moan, and she worried that someone was hurt.

  She pushed her way through a thick bush filled with bright yellow buds, a smell that was familiar and reminded her of childhood.

  “Hello?” she asked tentatively, not wanting to scare someone, but also not sure if she had heard an animal or a human. She heard a rustling and the sound again. She decided that the sound was not a human sound but that of an animal. She pushed a low tree branch out of her face and saw the cause of the noise. A small golden-hued puppy was curled up in the grass, whimpering softly. Olivia could see there was something attached to one of its back paws and she hurried to the puppy, murmuring words of comfort.

  “It’s okay, little one,” she soothed, gently approaching and kneeling next to the puppy. It looked up at her with wide chocolate eyes and Olivia wondered what negligent owner had let this puppy escape and subsequently get hurt.

  Olivia noticed it was some type of trap that was around the puppy’s leg, and she wondered if it was a rodent trap. She worked quickly regardless, knowing she would be late for her dinner if she didn’t hurry and bring the puppy along.

  The puppy whimpered as she pulled the trap off, and Olivia silently cursed the idiot who let this happen.

  “It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you,” she crooned, scooping the puppy up. At that precise moment, everything went black. Instinctively, Olivia reached for her eyes, fearing something had happened to her vision. She dropped the puppy, which began yipping at her feet. She felt wildly at her eyes, trying to see if something had happened to them. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, but she somehow knew that her eyesight was just fine and that something bigger was happening.

  Her mind raced to apocalyptic presumptions and other frightening theories such as the sun burning out. Strangely enough, she heard no other sounds around her. No people crying out or shouting.

  “Hello?” Olivia screamed, her panic rising. It was subtle at first, but Olivia began to feel the ground shake under her feet. She tried to run, but it seemed that that ground only shook harder. She could see nothing, and she reached out knowing she would hit trees or brush, but she felt nothing. How could that be? She was in the middle of the park.

  Olivia cried out in surprise as she began to feel the ground open beneath her.

  “Help!” she screamed, realizing she no longer heard the puppy.

  “Help!” she shouted again. She felt a foot slip into the nothingness beneath her, and she lost her balance. She fell hard, and she clawed at the earth. There was a terrible rumbling noise and she felt the hole widen further beneath her. Both feet were dangling and she was grasping at the ground, trying to pull herself upright.

  “Someone! Help!” she screamed again, praying someone would hear her. What was happening? She felt her fingernails dig into the cool dirt, but it almost seemed as if the earth was tipping, forcing her into the abyss below. Crying out with frustration and fear, she tried to find anything to grasp so she could pull herself up.

  She felt the earth tilt again and she lost her grip, falling into the emptiness. She screamed, waiting for death. What was beneath the ground? Water? Fire? Instead she felt as if she was sliding down a chute. The ground beneath her was firm and smooth and the temperature wasn’t becoming warmer as she imagined. She continued to fall quickly and then she hit the bottom of something. The entire ground vibrated and the air hummed before everything was still. Was she dead?

  “Hello?” Olivia asked cautiously.

  Carefully, she stood, expecting anything to happen at any minute. When nothing happened, she took two steps into the darkness.

  “Hello?” she whispered. There seemed to be a solid wall, and feeling her way carefully, she moved along what she assumed was a tunnel.

  Suddenly, she heard heavy footsteps in the distance. The steps were hard and fast. She had the instinct not to call for help this time.

  “She should be right around here,” a gruff voice said.

  “We haven’t been this way in a while,” replied another hard voice.

  Olivia shrank against the wall; something about the men’s voices frightened her and she was so confused and disoriented from what had just happened. She hoped the men weren’t referring to her when they said “she”.

  She heard the footsteps getting closer, and she crept backwards along the wall, hoping that she would find a hole or discover some way of escape. Instead, she hit a solid barrier, letting her know she could go no farther. Panicked, she crouched down, feeling along the walls and floor for any place in which she could hide.

  “Where is she?” the first man asked, clearly annoyed.

  “She’s definitely here. Just feel around for her,” the other one snapped back. She could feel them moving closer and she tried to creep around them, able to make out their slight shapes in the darkness. They see
med to be grasping at the air, trying to touch her. She stifled a scream as she saw a hand come near her face.

  “I can smell her,” one of the men growled. Olivia panicked, racing in the opposite direction.

  “Ha!” cried one of the men. Olivia yelped as he grabbed her by the hair.

  “Let me go!”

  “Shut up! Samuel, give me a hand! This bitch is thrashing all over the place.”

  Olivia fought desperately, until the other man, Samuel, came up and twisted her hands hard behind her back. Her knees buckled from the pain and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

  “Let’s go,” Samuel grunted, yanking her along.

  Olivia stumbled down the hallway, as tears of pain and fear leaked from her eyes.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked shrilly.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” the man who wasn’t Samuel said.

  “Aww, Michael, don’t tease her,” Samuel laughed. “She better worry her pretty little head. In fact, she’s only here because she’s so damn pretty. I, for one, can’t wait to get a good look at her in the light.”

  Michael laughed a hard laugh. “He hasn’t let you fuck one of his girls in months.”

  Olivia didn’t like the way this conversation was heading, and she didn’t know whom the men were referring to; was there a third man?

  “Shut up!” Samuel retorted.

  Olivia could see a dim light up ahead and as they approached, the room grew slightly brighter.

  Olivia shuddered when she realized they had walked into a dungeon.

  The walls were made of dark stone, and the ground was hard-packed dirt. Crude torches were lit against the wall and Olivia could make out a number of cells.

  “Let’s get a good look at you,” Samuel said, shoving her towards one of the torches.

  Michael let out a low-whistle. “You sure are pretty.”

  Olivia turned away, not wanting the men to look at her.

  “He’s going to love you,” Samuel crooned happily. He grabbed Olivia by the elbow and roughly pushed her forward. Olivia couldn’t help looking sideways at the cells as they passed. She saw large, grotesque shapes hovering in some of the corners, while strangled moans slowly filled the hall. Olivia shook her head, figuring her eyes were playing tricks on her. No person could look that disfigured.

  To her horror, she also saw women in some of the cells. Some were dirty and unkempt, while others rocked back and forth, crying quietly. Olivia turned away; it was too much.

  “Up you go,” Michael growled, and Olivia saw that she was facing a staircase.

  “Where am I?” she asked suddenly, turning to look at Michael for the first time. If his eyes hadn’t been so hard, and his face hadn’t been twisted in such hate, he would have been handsome. He had wavy brown hair that hung to his shoulders and dark brown eyes. He looked older than Olivia; maybe thirty. He was tall and broad and dressed in nondescript black pants and black shirt.

  Michael snickered. “Hell.”

  Olivia searched his face for some type of teasing or taunting, but found nothing. She turned away and began to move slowly up the stairs. Her legs were shaking, and she tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. She couldn’t think of the two men following behind her, and she certainly couldn’t think about what she would find at the top of the steps.

  Olivia wasn’t sure how many steps she had climbed. Fifty? One hundred? Two hundred? Her mind was frighteningly blank; a coping mechanism, she knew.

  When they finally reached the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a large, deserted room. There were no windows, only gray walls, but the lights in the room gave the strange impression of filtered sunlight, an unsettling effect. Olivia noticed that one side of the room was lined with numbered doors.

  Samuel pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and studied it. He was dressed in the same black uniform as Michael. He had short blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He looked around thirty also, and Olivia thought that he looked somewhat friendlier than Michael. But that wasn’t saying much.

  “Room number eight.”

  Michael nodded curtly and pushed Olivia towards door number eight.

  “Where am I going?” she asked, panicked.

  “We’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready,” Michael said.

  “And there’s no way to escape from in there, so don’t waste your time,” Samuel said, his voice now bored as he moved towards one of the three wooden chairs in another corner of the room.

  Olivia gulped. Where did door number eight lead?

  “Well, go on!” Michael ordered.

  Taking a deep, shaky breath, Olivia stepped forward and turned the knob.

  She paused, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for something to happen. For someone to jump out, or hurt her. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and looked around her. She was surprised to see what looked like a dressing room in a fancy boutique. Slowly, she closed the door behind her and looked around.

  The room was lit with intimate low lighting and the walls were a relaxing taupe shade. Intricate crown molding rested flush against the ceiling and plush white sofas were clustered in one corner. There was a finely crafted vanity against another wall, and the third wall had a three-angle mirror. Olivia’s eyes caught a stunning red dress that was laid out over one of the sofas.

  “What in the world?” she whispered, moving towards a small door in the back of the room. She tried it, but it was locked. She then moved towards another small door next to the vanity. She turned the knob and it opened into a white marble bathroom with bright lights, a claw-footed tub, an enormous shower and large mirrors.

  This had to be some type of bizarre dream.

  Olivia noticed that that fancy toiletries lined the bathroom vanity and she fingered the expensive French bottles, realizing she had only read about those items in magazines. Olivia had not seen much of the world, and already this strange place was more exotic than anywhere she had ever been.

  But Michael said she was in Hell. Olivia shuddered. She brought her hand to her head, feeling for some type of injury. Perhaps she had gotten hurt on her way to the awards dinner. Maybe she was in some strange limbo world while a dozen surgeons were fixing her body.

  She moved back into the larger room and looked more closely. There was the posh red dress, which was so far from Olivia’s relaxed and girlish style, as well as a pair of high silver heels. Olivia went to the vanity and wasn’t surprised to see all top of the line makeup. It was then that she saw a handwritten note resting next to a bright red lipstick.

  “Take a shower and wash your hair,” it read, “Then press the red button by the mirror.”

  Confused, Olivia looked around the vanity mirror; there was no button. She then remembered the three-angled mirror and jumped up. Sure enough, next to the mirror was a large red button. Olivia figured she had nothing to lose, and eager to stay away from Samuel and Michael, she quickly pulled off her clothes and jumped in the shower.

  As she washed her hair with expensive rose and lavender infused shampoo, she glanced at her heap of clothes through the clear shower door. Her simple gray skirt was stained with dirt and her plain white blouse was torn and dirtied as well. Somewhere outside she had dropped her bag containing her wallet, phone and ballet flats for the dinner.

  Olivia felt herself on the verge of hysterics, yet also felt frighteningly calm. She knew she was somehow in imminent danger.

  Once the water ran cold, she got out, toweling off in a ridiculously thick white towel. She found a comb and brushed her long hair out, and then wrapped the towel around her body. Slowly, she made her way to the button, and without giving it a second thought, she pushed it.

  She waited, not really expecting something to happen. But moments later the locked door on the far wall clicked multiple times and finally opened. Two small women came waltzing in.

  At least, Olivia thought they were women. On closer examination, she had to surmise that they wer
en’t exactly human. They were exceedingly tiny; one woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, the other woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles. Their skin almost seemed translucent and their features were tiny. The most striking feature, were their long pointy ears.

  “Come on, come on,” the blonde woman said quickly, her voice melodious as she motioned for Olivia to sit at the vanity. Olivia was transfixed, and she sat without question. The blonde began pawing at her hair, drying it and twisting it as the brunette came over and began touching her face, pulling at her cheeks.

  “We can work with this,” the brunette murmured.

  “Ex-excuse me,” Olivia stuttered, “But who are you, and where am I?”

  The women exchanged a knowing glance.

  “Well, we can tell you who we are, but we can’t necessarily tell you where we are. We’re not quite sure ourselves.” The blonde fixed Olivia with a piercing gaze. Olivia nodded and remained silent, hoping she would continue.

  “I’m Calista, and this is Daphne,” she said, gesturing to the brunette. “We are nymphs that work for the master. Like you, we’ve been captured.”

  Olivia shook her head, trying to absorb the small but overwhelming amount of knowledge.

  “So, I have been captured? I’m not imagining this?”

  Daphne shook her head sadly.

  “And there’s a master? And you are nymphs? Like elves?”

  Daphne made a small sound of disgust and walked away.

  “She doesn’t understand” Calista gently chided Daphne. She turned back to Olivia. “Elves don’t have magic and are not as beautiful as we are. We also like to think of them as being,” she paused trying to think of the right word, “crude.”

  “They are complete assholes,” Daphne snipped, clearly forgiving Olivia’s faux pas as she perused the makeup again.

 

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