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Sanctify the Dark

The knights of a faraway land had come not for battle, but for slaughter. Penelope was lucky to have found a hiding place in time. Even for ten years old, she was exceptionally small and frail. Not exactly fast on her feet, her only hope was to squeeze into someplace small and hidden and wait out the raid.

The fair-haired child watched it all from beneath an overturned cart. Feet rushed passed her narrow peek hole. Shrieks and howls of pain and death, gallons upon gallons of hot blood soaking into the packed dirt streets, and already corpses littered the ground like so many discarded dolls.
The stench of death was overpowering. Penelope caught a whiff and retched loudly. She cursed the reflex as one of the knights stopped carving up a corpse and glanced her way. He flourished his blade and approached her hiding place with a predator’s swagger.

His boot broke her line of sight for a moment before it’s owner peeked under the cart. The man’s eyes were shrouded by his great helm, but his intentions were unmistakable. He reached under the cart and dragged Penelope out by the hair.

Penelope yelped girlishly and tried to crawl away, but a heavy foot kicked the little girl onto her back and pinned her down. She squirmed and clawed at the knight’s leg, but to no avail.

Without warning his sword came down and punctured her neck. The blade was long and thick, and her killer stuffed it through to the hilt. He lifted his sword and the thrashing child along with it.

Penelope screamed, or at least she tried. The only noise she could make was a sort of rasping gurgle. Blood burbled out of her ruined throat, slopping onto her chest in gory mix of blood and phlegm.

The little girl panicked. She started groping mindlessly, first at the blade, then at her neck. Her legs kicked and kicked but they met only air. Eyes rolling back, her mouth opened and closed in a mute expression of agony.

For a moment or so longer Penelope’s neck choked, gargled, and spurted in a very undignified way. However, her body was beginning to run out of blood and air. Soon her thrashing slowed to pathetic twitching, and then to deathly stillness.

The knight regarded the child’s corpse with the same expression one might give roadkill. He tipped his sword toward the ground, allowing Penelople’s tiny corpse to slide off with a sickeningly drawn-out SSSHHHLRK.

Before long her body arched it’s back and flailed in one final death throe. A sudden and violent spray of piss shot out of her immature pussy while Penelope’s corpse humped at the sky. The stream of hot urine went some three feet because the girl’s jerking hips, but eventually her bladder was empty and her body finally settled.

Seeing that the show was over, the knight took his leave. His nose wrinkled as he stalked away, sensing an odor on the wind. He heard the repulsive noise of the small girl’s bowels aggressively expelling their contents. The little blonde was well and thoroughly dead.