Goddess Intervention

Many years ago there were two very, very foolish armies of men. I suppose I can forgive them their ignorance seeing as this was a so long ago, before the world truly came to know and worship me. It was very early in my crusade and only the men of a few smaller nations had fallen victim to me. The tales that worked their way across the land of a beautiful and terrible goddess fighting and butchering whole armies by herself were laughed off by men. They all learned the truth for themselves eventually.

It was in one of these lands of skeptics that I suffered mankind's greatest affront to me. For all the attempts that had been made to kill or claim me, men were still dutifully offering up their lives for my enjoyment. No, what insulted me to my very core was coming upon a battlefield which I was not the focal point of, dying by hands that were not mine. To make matters worse, both sides were splendid examples of masculinity.

On one side there were wonderful knights, their armor glittering in the sun even as they fought. Good, upstanding and civilized men. Very desirable food for my blade.

The other horde were barbarians, towering slabs of meat who happily exposed their remarkable physiques. Absolutely perfect fodder.

Each second that passed, more delicious specimens perished. The waste of so many lives pained me to my core and I sprang in to action, the greatsword I had taken from a murdered king in my hands. I ran as fast as I could, my heart racing with excitement as I drew closer to the fighting. When I finally reached the men and my sword carved in to the chiseled bodies of a half dozen men in a single broad swing, I let out a yell of pure joy that was followed by a moan as the blade sank deeper into their bodies. The chunks that remained of those first men had scarcely hit the ground before I was hewing through the soldiers.

My attack caught them all totally by surprise. Bare flesh and armor were both equally useless against me and I gleefully slaughtered both sides in equal measure. A great eruption of blood splashed my face as my sword bit deep in to the bare chest of a massive warrior. His howl of agony sent a chill up and down my spine. Freeing my blade, I slashed wildly around me and wiped out dozens of men rushing at me from nearly all sides. The screaming man wavered but remained upright despite his wound which was now gushing blood.

He was hardy, courageous and one of the biggest men I've ever faced. Of course I had no choice but to enjoy him. Another swing of the blade relieved him of legs just below the knees. Landing with a very satisfying thud, he immediately began thrashing about, swinging about frantically in my direction. Two more strokes deprived him of his arms. Now completely helpless, he remained defiant, shouting obscenities and curses at me. I put one boot on that barrel chest of his, delightfully coated with his own blood. I leaned in close to him and smiled. His expression became one of confusion for a brief moment before it ceased to be. Laughing gleefully, I brought my boot down again and again, turning his face in to an unrecognizable mass of gore. He tried to cry out, but nothing escaped his mouth but blood and broken teeth.

As much as I'd have loved to watch him suffer, there was a great deal left to do. A final, judicious stomp splattered his head like a ripe fruit.

By now the men were aware of what was happening and the leaders of the armies had ceased fighting one another to join forces against me. A mighty barbarian chieftain and a gallant crown prince, untied in common cause to stop some horrible devil woman! How wonderfully fantastic. The piles of bodies I made were quite a sight to behold, mutilated flesh all tangled up with bloodied, twisted suits of armor. I could go back and forth from one type of man to another depending on what I wanted to do. Would I rather drive a blade through a the vision slit of knight's helmet and feel the dying boy thrash about or eviscerate some hulking brute, watching him try to stuff his innards back in to his split belly, blood leaking between his fingers? Did I want to pick up some knightly warhammer to cave in some stupid bastard's breastplate to crush his chest or would I prefer to bury a man's own ax in his rippling abdomen? It was an easy decision, of course. I did it all and plenty more besides that. To be among so many fine young men was like being a child in the proverbial candy store and I ate my fill until only the two leaders and a handful of their troops remained.

What happened to the prince and chieftain is...something private. Suffice to say that when I had my fill, I decapitated them. To ensure their people never again squandered the lives of their men fighting one another, I sent their leaders a message. From each side I took a hundred prisoners. So enamored and terrified were they with me, they raised not a single objection as I gouged their eyes out. I didn't need an audience while I enjoyed their leader's company, after all. They did, however, make quite a bit of noise when I castrated them.

 When I was finished, I gave one man from each group his commander's head and told them all exactly what I had done to them, sparing no detail. They could live out their days, blinded and emasculated so long as they related the story to their rulers back home. I pointed them in the right directions and turned them loose, amused by how few of them made it beyond the horizon.

They must have had some sturdy and gifted storytellers in their number, because in due time I would be seeing a great deal more of their countrymen.