This entry finishes the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.
In the previous entry we learned that Emilia is horny and wants romance with the least appropriate man in the world, that she can’t remember anything about her attempts at passing the trial, that Garfiel loves wasting people’s time, that blackmailers can be reasonable, and that Frederica should eat a dick.
This is one of the shortest entries in a long while, but also one of the thiccest. And we reached part fifty. I’ve done fifty entries of this shit. I must be bored out of my mind.
Your caravan goes through the gate at Roswaal’s mansion grounds shortly before sunset. The slanting rays of the setting sun are tinting the mansion in bronze, as well as elongating the shadows of the many statues and streetlights that line the path to the front doors. The carriages start parking around fifty meters away from the entrance, because you want to enter the mansion as soon as possible. You had internalized that you were trapped in Sanctuary along with Emilia, but of course you could come and go as you pleased as long as Garfiel wouldn’t grab you and hurl you back into their dingy village.
“Otto, please deal with making sure that every villager gets his belongings, and figure out if they have some urgent need that they would like to fill, so I can ask Frederica. We don’t want for them to return to their homes only to immediately start riling up those who stayed behind.”
“Understood, Mr. Natsuki. It’s good to be back, isn’t it? Too bad we haven’t gotten lady Emilia out of that village yet…”
“Well, we’ll get her out eventually.” You look around the vast yard, but you don’t see any sign of the servants. Although you want to see behind the windows, the rays of the setting sun have turned them all into mirrors. “It’s strange that Frederica hasn’t come out to greet us. She should have noticed a caravan entering the mansion’s grounds.”
Otto grabs one of the travel sacks from the back of his carriage.
“Maybe she’s busy dealing with some problem?”
“I wonder if she’s worried about us… After all, she must know that we will confront her regarding the magic crystal she gave us. I wonder what she will say when she realizes I would have gotten ripped apart at the witches’ tomb if the traps had worked on me.” You frown. “In any case, I’ll return with her in a while.”
You walk towards the front doors. You open them carefully, given they are built for much stronger people to handle. After you enter the large foyer and close the door behind you, you are first surprised by the lack of noise. You would have thought that either of the servants would have been moving around in this floor, but what shocks you the most is that every single door you can see is open. It’s as if someone opened one enough to check whether there was something inside that room, then left that door open and moved to the next one. Your body knows how wrong this is. Someone other than the rightful inhabitants of this mansion has been here, and if any of the servants had seen this unsettling chaos of opened doors, they would have corrected it.
You move further into the foyer.
“Frederica!? Are you there, lioness!? Petra, even! Do any of you hear me!?”
No one answers. The quietness feels creepy. Worse, it brings back memories from back when you didn’t know you would return to the past if you died for any reason. You recall entering this same foyer hoping to find your people, those who had welcomed you into their lives, only to find Ram’s beheaded corpse. You had frozen to death shortly after.
Rem. She’s as defenseless as any living being could be. Any stranger who wandered in here could murder your beloved demon servant just by cupping her nose and mouth with his or her hand. Your chest feels hollow as you run towards the room that Emilia chose for Rem. You no longer shout for the servants, because it’s clear they won’t come, if they remain in the mansion at all.
When you can already see the door to Rem’s room further into your current hallway, you see that there’s a woman standing on the carpet, and looking at you. In less than a second your body registers that she’s one of the sexiest women you have ever seen. She must be in her late twenties or early thirties. She has long, soot-colored hair that frames a mature, gorgeous face. She’s wearing a cape with a feathery hood, although she isn’t covering her head with it, and the cape barely conceals her black dress, which has a cleavage that exhibits her smooth skin down past her navel to slightly above where her pubic hair should be. The outer half of her big, firm breasts somehow remains hidden even though it would take the fabric slipping a few centimeters to reveal her nipples. Under the tail of her dress, her shapely legs are covered in blood-colored tights.
Everything about this woman screams sex and danger. You haven’t managed to move a muscle when she steps forward and wields a smile that while pretty in her face, makes you feel like a rat watching helplessly how a bird of prey descends towards it with the claws drawn.
“Hello, boy. You are lovelier than I had imagined.”
The woman’s voice sounded pleased and relaxed as if she had an orgasm mere minutes ago.
Your throat feels clogged with dryness, and your spine has gone cold.
“Holy shit. Who are you? What are you doing in our mansion?”
She lets out a chuckle that in different circumstances would have seemed seductive.
“Why, I’m not doing anything here, darling, except for my job.”
Her hips sway from left to right and back as she comes a bit closer. Your throat gets tighter.
“What job would that be?”, you ask with a thin voice.
The woman stops and holds her hands in front of her waist. She leans forward a bit, which displays more of her big, impossibly firm breasts that you are trying very hard not to stare at.
“If I tell you how they call me, you will have all you need”, she says with a low, sensual voice. “I’m known as the Bowel Hunter.”
The inside of your mouth has turned to papery mush.
“Never heard of you, and I don’t know who is this ‘they’ you refer to”, you say with a parched voice. “Kind of an unflattering nickname, though. I would have given you one related to those delicious-looking breasts of yours, but to be fair I can hardly think of anything else at the moment.”
She giggles, and you can smell a light scent of flowers coming from her. Her eyes shine playfully with mischief.
“I’m honored you think my twins are delicious, but if that doesn’t convince you who I am, how about I tell you my modus operandi?”
You swallow, then force yourself to look up at her purple eyes.
“Sorry, what did you say? Man, how do you keep those glorious mounds of flesh from popping out of your risky dress? Do you glue them to the fabric with some sort of fantasy world adhesive tape? Still, it must be some industrial grade stuff. And they are so firm, like carved in marble…”
The woman narrows her eyes and widens her smile as if humoring you. Her white teeth are on full display.
“You’ll just have to find out my strengths for yourself. How unfortunate for you, darling.”
She parts her lips, although a thread of saliva keeps them connected, and her eyes glisten as she stares at your clothed abdomen. You can feel the warmth building up in her body and emanating like an aura. She desires something of you, so intensely that it burns.
With a swift movement she crosses and uncrosses her arms in front of her waist, and now she’s holding two exotic looking gutting knives that glint in the setting sun.
You take a couple of steps back.
“Ah… You aren’t a nice one.”
“On the contrary, my lovely boy. Let’s see how beautiful you are.”
She lunges forward while wielding the knives. She moves so fast that you can only sense a blur as you try to jump out of her way, but you feel a burning slash across your abdomen. You stagger for a moment, and when you trembling legs decide to support your weight properly, you realize that the woman is standing calmly a few meters away from you, holding the knives at the sides of her legs. One of the blades is dripping blood.
Although you had intended to press the wound in your abdomen with your hands in order to stem the bleeding, it’s not so much a wound as wide open gash from one side of your torso to the other. The pink-colored, long, sausage-like flesh bulging out the gash are your intestines. More than that, you feel like you are about to evacuate all of your internal organs through that hole.
As if your legs couldn’t handle the shock of you getting disemboweled, they buckle and you fall on your back. The pain shooting through your body is new, and whitens your vision. Beads of sweat are rolling down your face. Your arms have moved instinctively to keep your intestines from spilling out further, but your abdomen is ripped open like a pocket. No way you can survive this. Wilhelm’s wound when Petelgeuse gutted him wasn’t so huge, and that old man is far tougher than you. Ferris isn’t here to save you.
As you lie there, struggling for breath with blood trickling down your mouth and pooling around you, Elsa calmly walks up to your side. Those big, firm mounds of flesh frame her beautiful, flushed face as she smiles down at you. A fire burns in her purple eyes while she licks her lips slowly with her red tongue.
“I knew as soon as I met you that your guts would have a lovely color. My beautiful boy…”
You wheeze and cough up blood, splattering it on your face. She bends over, her long, soot-colored hair falling forward onto your face, and offers you an affectionate smile.
“How does it feel to have your insides leaving your body like that? Tell me in your words, darling”, she says with a low, deeper voice.
You struggle to focus on the question. The initial pain has subsided somewhat, and all there is left is a lingering ache. Even that begins to fade as your life force dwindles away.
“Well… It’s a new type of pain, but it could be much worse. It isn’t mind-shattering, at least.”
The woman’s eyes narrow for a moment, taken aback by your answer, even though it doesn’t alter her smile.
“Is that so?”
She grabs your arms by your wrists and puts them at the side of your body. They are trembling and already weakened. And it’s not like defending yourself at this point would change anything. It probably wouldn’t have changed anything even before this woman gutted you. She clearly knows what she’s doing.
The woman tilts her head and parts her lips as she touches first and then kneads your mass of intestines. Under her loving attention, those nerves in your flesh send you confusing information that registers as noisy pain. You feel the shit the intestines contain getting squeezed through the tract.
The woman then shoves her hands deeper into the gash, widening it, which causes you to groan in pain and tears to jump from your eyes. The woman takes out of your body as much as she can of your intestinal tract, and possibly other nearby organs as well. Despite the blinding pain that trembles through your bones, a weird relief surprises you, as if holding your organs inside had been an effort all along.
Your intestines make soggy sounds while the woman plays gently with them. Her eyes are glossy and her lips wet, as if she will start drooling at any moment. She notices you staring at her, and she holds your gaze with affection.
“I’ll stay with you, boy, as you die. Slowly, slowly, slowly… I will watch the light go out in your eyes.”
Her alluring smell, that warm gaze, the loving smile, the way she’s stroking and kneading your organs, have made you uncomfortably hard. You are getting so weak, your vision is blurrying, you are getting colder. Yeah, there’s no surviving this one. You will pay a visit to that traitorous, looped witch soon.
“Ah… Tell me, so called Bowel Hunter,” you say with a trembling, thin voice, “what is your name?”
The woman is taken aback by your question, but then she smiles. Her saliva drips down onto your innards.
“You want to know… my name?”
“Yeah.”
“For your sake, you may call me whatever you wish.”
“But I want to know how to properly address such a lovely woman. I’m Natsuki Subaru.”
The woman’s smile widens.
“Well then, my lovely Natsuki, I am Elsa Granhiert. I’m very glad to meet you.”
“And I’m glad to meet you, too”, you say, making an effort to keep your voice from shaking. “Nobody had played with my insides like that before. Why are you here, Bowel Hunter? Just in the neighborhood?”
She laughs softly, closing her eyes, and then she rewards you with a glowing smile. Sweat is beading on her flushed face.
“I came for you, Natsuki.”
“You’re here for me?”
The woman touches her lips with her bloodied index finger in a coy gesture, leaving a print.
“Shh… It’s a secret.”
As if she couldn’t keep away from your guts, the hand she had pulled from them goes back to playing with your innards. She licks the blood on her lips in a way that makes your erection pulsate.
You swallow to be able to push your voice out.
“C’mon, Elsa. Surely you can reveal this secret to me, right?”
She chuckles.
“You truly didn’t know me at all. I’m the best contract killer in the kingdom, they say. In the whole world, I’d argue.”
Frederica, Petra, and most importantly Rem are dead. That sudden realization makes your heart, which was already having trouble pumping correctly, stop for a moment. You swallow some of the blood that is reaching your mouth from somewhere else in your body.
“Who hired you then?”
“Nu-huh”, she answers playfully.
“C’mon, Elsa. You know I’m going to die here. No way I could survive the best contract killer in the world, when she’s already playing with my intestines no less. Tell me, who paid so we could have such a lovely encounter?”
“Your insides have such a lovely color, boy, that I want to give you anything you wish for during these last precious moments you will spend with me. But you don’t get to where I am by breaking the rules. I never reveal information about the client, it’s a naughty thing to do. I wouldn’t tell even such a lovely boy.”
You try to reply but only a gargling sound comes out of your throat. Elsa looks at you as if wishing to please you.
“I will share, though, that the targets were a part beast servant, a very young trainee, and a shut-in spirit, as well as yourself, whenever you arrived. However, they did specify to kill everybody at the mansion, so I gutted a pretty, unknown girl as she slept. She never opened her eyes, the poor thing. She must have been seriously ill.”
You cough blood. Your vision already looks as if you are seeing the world through a thin layer of water. The waves of pain prevent you from focusing on facts that otherwise would have you crying. But you are about to die, and none of this matters.
Elsa’s hard nipples are bulging out of her fancy, black dress, as if she had rubbed them with ice cubes. Despite the whole you getting murdered thing, it does make you proud that fondling your intestines is satisfying her freaky fetish. You know just how she must be feeling.
You aren’t sure if you passed out for a brief moment, but you find yourself holding Elsa’s gaze as she looks down at you with some disappointment.
“You are so well behaved that you don’t scream nor plead for your life. Please, show some fear. It feels so much better when they struggle to survive even with their last ounce of strength.”
You spit blood in her face. She wipes it with her forearm and smiles with satisfaction.
“A half-assed attempt, but it feels better. Thank you.”
Your heart is pounding. You’ll end up having an orgasm if this keeps going. You feel the need to vomit, but your body has no such luck.
“Sorry, Elsa. It’s just that death hasn’t frightened me for a long time, and it’s going to go dark for me no doubt. Nobody will heal that mess in my abdomen.”
She stops playing with you for a moment as she observes you with the closest thing you’ve seen to confusion in her beautiful face.
“How did you get so calm with the way I’m enjoying your innards? You are an intriguing boy.”
You can’t help but laugh, but it makes her frown slightly and pout.
“Then I’ll make you feel a fear engraved in the bones of all of you. Please, lose your mind for me and scream.”
She attempts to pulls down your pants and underwear enough, and after she struggles for a bit longer than she had intended, your rock-hard penis pops out. Elsa gives a pleased sigh, as if you had complimented her.
“Ah, you are enjoying my touch so much. What a lovely boy… I will keep you for myself.”
She grabs one of her gutting knives from the ground. Her free hand holds the head of your dick with the index finger and thumb, which makes your back tremble warmly and almost causes you to cum, and it only takes a flick of the wrist of her other hand to reap your penis near the base. She holds it on her hand to show it to you. It begins to shrivel while leaking blood all over her palm, then dripping from her hand in tiny, viscuous courtains.
You would have expected it to not only hurt enormously, but also make your mind shatter, as a primal fear got triggered. Maybe you’ve gone too weak already, or that pain didn’t register in the tide that is already coursing through your body. In comparison with how you felt back when a huge ground dragon turned your genitals into mush, you now don’t have to handle the horror of fighting everyone in your life so you can die and wake up in Satella’s bath of vaginal juices again. It’s a huge whatever.
Elsa smiles briefly before bending down and giving the tip of your cut off dick a kiss. She puts it in some pocket of her cloak, but when the woman turns to focus on your expression, she gets stunned.
“You don’t even care…”
She sounded disappointed and annoyed as if she were about to cum to the best part of a porn video, only for that scene to end before she could stop herself. She continues to look at you with a questionable gaze, waiting for some sort of tears or anger, but she doesn’t get either.
“I can put on a sad face if you want”, you say with a threadbare voice, “Sorry, I lost my dick once before, and in worse circumstances. The shock wears out surprisingly quick.”
“You have lost it before…? You are the oddest boy in the world.”
That annoys you. You want to shout, but you are barely holding onto life.
“I’m odd? Does that fetish of yours run in your family or something? Couldn’t you get off to incest porn like a normal person?”
Elsa is bewildered into silence, with her hands shoved into the mass of your intestines.
You shake your head slightly. Your body doesn’t want to obey you much. The pain rises and falls as your breath shortens.
“I can’t believe you just went straight for my guts. No innuendo, no foreplay… Not even a bit of tongue play.”
Elsa smiles warmly, then nods.
“Ah, you are right. That would be lovely, and you have earned it.”
Elsa pulls out her hands from your guts. She crouches next to your shoulder, cups the back of your head with one hand and lifts it enough so she can cover your open mouth with hers. Her tongue licks yours, and her lips suck on your flesh, possessing you like you would never imagine you could feel. You moan in her mouth, and she chuckles softly. Your blood rushes to your crotch and spurts out of the hole where the rest of your dick ought to be. You will die from blood loss that much quicker.
Even though your consciousness comes and goes, you feel her holding your tongue with her teeth around the middle part. She then bites harder and harder and harder, gnawing at it, and suddenly retracting her head, she rips off the lower half of your tongue.
Elsa straightens her back. She’s shivering in a pleasured daze while blood runs down from her dyed mouth. She chews a bit and swallows.
You want to ask what kind of benefit she got from eating your tongue, but then again you don’t want to retain the memory of how it feels to say something when most of your tongue is gone. You are already choking on the blood pooled in your mouth. Blackness is encroaching your vision.
You concentrate what remains of your strength on lifting your arm closest to Elsa towards her breasts. You slide your trembling hand under the dress and cup that glorious mound of flesh. You feel the hard nipple between your index and middle finger. You rub it with your palm, you squeeze it. Elsa shivers. She caresses your trembling arm with her own hand. Shortly after she lifts her face up and moans as her body convulses.
A breast fit for a god. Priscilla Barielle, you have been outranked.
As the black bath of vaginal juices seeps into your very soul, the Witch of Envy embraces you with her elongated arms. Her hazy, purple eyes regard you as warmly as an automaton’s.
“I love you I love you I love yo-“
“It’s been a while, Satella. How are things going with you?”
“I love you I love you I love you I lov-“
“Ah, that’s wonderful. Well, let me tell you. I just met a lovely woman, very passionate. Kind of love at first sight.”
“I love you I lov-“
“She was so into me, she even bit off my tongue. But in the end it was worth it, because she got me hot enough that I just creamed all over her tits.”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Just kidding. I didn’t even have a dick at that moment.”
“I love you I love you I love you I love y-“
“You know, I gave Emilia shit for being retarded enough to allow that teenage thief to steal her medallion, but I’m one to talk, right? I keep losing my most important body part. How can I look at anyone in the face if I’m not even capable of keeping my dick intact?”
“I love you I love you I love you I love you I lov-“
“Sorry to disappoint you by getting sexually involved, somehow, with virtually every other woman I come across. That’s why I wanted to keep that Petra out of the mansion! Nobody listens to me.”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Not to disparage you or anything, Tella. Do you prefer that diminutive? I could also just keep saying your full name like a normal person. I guess it’s the old sloth in me.”
“I love you I lo-“
“It’s a reference to that Petelgeuse, the ancient ghost you swallowed. Remember that whole thing we did…?”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Anyway, it was good to talk again, you fucking traitor.”
Note from December of 2020:
Finally I can play with the lovely Elsa Granhiert. Anyone who has read the original novels or watched the anime adaptation knows that she appears as early as the first volume, or the first episode or the second. But I completely botched that arc in this strange, AI-fueled retelling that I’m doing. Whatever. Most people who went through the original story constantly wondered what the fuck happened with Elsa to have disappeared from the narrative. Now she’s back where she belongs.
The Domains of the Emperor Owl 