Barbarian Box Set: Barbarians of Zandipor Books One, Two and Three

We stop for the night once there is only one sun left in the sky and even that one is lowering into the distance, lighting the sky up in brilliant hues of pink, purple and red.

Creepe finds us a cave just as the last slivers of sun are disappearing behind the horizon. I’m warming up by the fire that he made, thankful that I have him here. I still get a cold shiver whenever I think of the Cock Monster chasing after me with his long dick swinging around. Creepe would never do that.

He’s a good one.

“What are you making?” I ask as I tilt my chin up, trying to see what he’s doing. He has a hollowed out shell and he’s mixing in leafs, herbs, and thin roots, grinding them up into a disgusting looking paste. I just hope that’s not our dinner.

Cock Monster was a total pervert but at least he cooked me up some velociraptor steaks before trying to sexually assault me.

“It’s your dinner,” he says gruffly. He aggressively thrusts the shell into my hands and stands over me, glaring down with his hands on his hips.

It smells like a used hockey bag that a fifteen-year-old dog had been sleeping in. Maybe with some rotten eggs stuffed into the pockets.

I curl my nose up as I look up at him. He doesn’t look happy.

“Is there anything else on the menu?” I ask as I glance around the dark cave. I’d rather eat the bugs on the walls than put this anywhere near my mouth.

He doesn’t look amused. “Eat it,” he snaps.

He’s standing there watching me but he hasn’t made himself a bowl. Warning lights start going off in my head. “Where is yours? I’ll wait for you.”

Creepe grinds his teeth together as his blue nostrils flare. “Eat it,” he hisses, his voice sounding even more aggressive this time.

“No,” I say placing the hollowed out shell on the ground between us. Adrenaline starts pumping into my veins when I see the anger on his face. I clench my hands into fists, getting ready for anything.

“No?” he asks with his lips pulled back, baring his teeth.

I slowly rise to my feet, careful to keep some distance between us. I know fighting and I can tell by the way his muscles and veins are straining over his skin that things are about to get ugly.

He’s got a stone ax strapped to his back and a bone knife sticking out of his leather boot.

I have nothing but a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“You ugly Sandroka whore,” he says, spitting on the ground between us. “Eat it or the mighty Creepe will snap your masculine neck and shove it down your disobeying throat.”

My pulse races as I raise my chin, getting ready to make him eat his words. He’s messing with the wrong fucking Sandroka.

“Come on then,” I say as I roll my shoulders forward. “Come and try.”

He grins as I plant my feet and raise my fists. I step back, circling to the right as he grabs the bowl of sticky disgustingness and stands back up in one swift fluid motion.

“You’re worse than that whore Saku,” he hisses as he moves forward.

I plant my forward foot and quickly let out a left jab that lands on his lips. He jerks his head back in shock, but I’m not done. I twist my whole body, rapidly following it up with a right hook that lands right on the button.

That punch would have knocked out every single man and woman in my weight class, but Creepe is not in my weight class. They don’t have weight classes for men his size back home.

He just shakes it off and turns to me with a heated glare. I gulp as I take a step back, circling to the left.

Just twenty or thirty more shots like that and he’ll be unconscious. If my hand doesn’t break before that, or if he doesn’t get a shot in first.

I’m tough as they come but even I won’t be able to stay awake after a hit from those massive fists.

“I’m leaving,” I say as I circle towards the exit of the cave. “You keep your disgusting sludge and leave me alone.”

I should never have left the safety of my cave. The grass is never greener on the other side of this planet. Pink, yes, but green, no.

Creepe lunges forward in a blur when I get to the exit. He wraps his rock hard arms around me and easily pulls me back in. I punch, kick, elbow, knee, bite, and scream but his arms are locked around me like iron shackles.

He throws me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me, and is on me at once. He slams his knee into my chest and pins me to the hard ground as I struggle to breathe.

“Weak foolish whore,” he mutters as he grabs the bowl of paste and turns back to me.

I’m trying to push off his heavy knee that’s crushing my lungs and preventing any air from entering them. I open my mouth but no air comes in.

“You want something in your mouth?” he asks with a grin as he scoops out a glob of paste onto his two fingers. “Eat this and then the virile Creepe will have something to put in your mouth.”

I’m suffocating but the taste of the paste is so bad as he thrusts his two fingers in my mouth that I freak out. I kick my legs and jerk my head from side to side but he doesn’t let me move. Spots start to dot my vision as the lack of oxygen is starting to take effect.

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