[BL] The Epic of Aerax 18+

The heavy stone door closed behind Aerax, leaving an eerie silence.The thud echoed down the corridor like a final sentence. The sound faded, swallowed by the ancient crypt.

The air was heavy, oppressive—thicker than outside, as if time had congealed inside this place.It smelled of mold, rot, and the faint metallic tang of ancient, dried blood.He could feel it on his tongue. Taste the centuries.Underfoot, the stone was hidden beneath a blanket of fine gray dust. No footprints. No signs of life.This place had been sealed for a long, long time.

Aerax clenched his fists. His hooves pressed down into the dust, crunching it beneath him.His naked body was caked in sweat and grime, the fine powder of the crypt clinging to his skin.Even his mane was damp, hanging in tangled locks over his shoulders.The reliefs behind him depicted warriors—battle-hardened figures in armor, locked in poses of brutal triumph and agony.Their stone-carved eyes seemed to watch him pass, frozen mid-warcry or mid-death.

He stepped forward.

Each footfall echoed. The corridor narrowed, the ceiling lowering, pressing down like a weight. The path ahead twisted slightly, vanishing into darkness.

Then, without warning, fire exploded to life.Blue flames ignited in the wall sconces, leaping from torch to torch with unnatural speed, casting flickering light.The flames were cold. They gave no heat, only a pale illumination that made the stone glisten like bone.

Aerax narrowed his eyes.His breath had grown louder, more rapid—he wasn't sure why. Fear? Anticipation?He tried to steady himself.But something about this place made the hair along his spine rise.

On either side of the corridor, the walls were lined with holes.Deep. Dark. Circular.Carved with unsettling precision, like tunnels bored through flesh.He didn't like that.Not one bit.

Then it came.

The sound.A faint, wet slithering.Almost like flesh dragging across stone… or perhaps something worse.

He froze.

From the holes, the creatures emerged—Long, snakelike bodies glistening with mucus.They had no eyes, no faces.Their heads were bulbous masses of flesh, opening like flowers in bloom, revealing clusters of soft, questing tentacles.

They didn't hiss.They didn't roar.They simply reached—blind, patient, and silent.

Aerax stood perfectly still.He could feel his heart hammering.He tried to calm it. To still his breath.

But it was no use.

The smell of his sweat, the heat of his body, the energy coursing through him—they would sense it.He was alive. Too alive.

A single tentacle brushed his leg.It was cold. Wet.Almost gentle.Then came another, wrapping around his thigh, stroking upward.

"This is bad," he muttered, stepping back.He reached for something—anything. Rubble. Debris. Even a shard of stone.

But before he could strike, another tentacle had found him.It slid between his legs.His body betrayed him. The monstrous touch triggered a primal, unwanted response.His equine shaft stiffened involuntarily.

One of the creatures bloomed its flower-like head wider.From within, a red, pulsing core opened—like a second mouth.It latched onto him.And began to suck.

Aerax cried out—a raw, guttural roar of pain and pleasure.His muscles locked, back arching.It was as if the creature wasn't just drawing from his body… but his soul.

Vital energy surged from him—drained into the thing's maw.He felt it pulling not just semen, but strength. Essence.The others smelled it.They surged from their holes, slithering faster now, hungrily.

He staggered backward, knees buckling.More tentacles brushed his chest, shoulders, face.They weren't just touching—they were tasting. Reading him.

One began to crawl up his spine.Another coiled around his tail.

No more.He couldn't let it go on.

With a roar, Aerax grabbed a broken stone and hurled it at the nearest creature.The blow struck true—the beast hit the wall with a wet thud, its flower-head crushed.

Another leapt at him.He caught it midair and slammed it to the floor, grinding it beneath his hoof.

The others shrieked at last—high-pitched, chittering wails that pierced the crypt's silence.They attacked in a frenzy, all at once.

Aerax fought back with raw instinct.He grabbed, smashed, slammed.Rocks turned red with blood and black with slime.He tore one creature in half, its body splitting with a sickening squelch.Another he crushed with both hands, feeling bones—or something like bones—crack beneath his grip.

His body burned.Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the blood.His muscles screamed with fatigue.But he didn't stop.

Not until the last one twitched on the floor.Not until the corridor fell silent again.

Breathing heavily, Aerax staggered back.The holes in the walls were quiet.No more creatures came.

He dropped to his knees.His hands trembled.The adrenaline was gone, and in its place came exhaustion—deep and bone-heavy.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, sliding down until he sat in the dust.His body throbbed from bruises, scratches, and… other violations.The scent of sex, blood, and death clung to the air.

He closed his eyes.

"At least… I'm alive…" he whispered.

Then sleep took him.Unwilling.Heavy.

Aerax's body slumped to one side, breath slowing.The crypt fell still.Only the blue fire remained, flickering on walls now stained with gore.

And deep within the stone… something stirred.