I am a soldier. I have faced the horrors of the Rapine Storm, kicked it in the face, and come back to tell the tale.

I have embraced the teachings of the Eldritch Society, and been bonded with a Tager.

I have become what my enemies fear, and I live to deliver it.

Yet, in a moment, I am reduced to shitting myself at the mercy of a Dhohanoid. Humility is a position I am not comfortable with.

We were escorting two Winters out of The Last Supper Club, at least one a fake, maybe both. I had identified 3 Dhohanoids in the crowd, easily matching Mesta, Sorena and I. It was time to get outside and find some room to move.

Mesta made it out the front door, with the apparantly genuine Winter. The Winter I was escorting out by the elbow stabbed me in the back. Literally. The shame of mistakenly not having her in front of me, as security protocol dictates, is quickly overwhelmed by the panic that slams down when I realize I can't shift.

This is bad.

I'm suddenly wrapped in blackness, tightly bound, and fighting hard to make the slightest movement. Shifting is impossible. I can't reach my Stinger. I am being dragged.

I struggle repeatedly to break free, and repeatedly fail. Finally, I can reach my Stinger, and fire a shot blindly. Something screams, I see a foot-wide hole to the light, with ochre flowing freely, and shove my arm and head through.

Something hideous has me wrapped in a sheath, with freakish head-parts and tentacles pulling it towards the back door of the club. I fire two shots at the mass of body parts, taking a tentacle clean off. The shrieks are horrendous, and what comes next is far worse.

It squeezes me. A rib breaks. Then another. My arm dislocates. Something grinds in my chest in a way I've never felt in a dozen gunshots and concussion injuries. I am in a trash compactor.

My stinger falls away. I fight to remain concious. I can feel the monster dragging me out of the door. Into something, a vehicle, and I feel it begin to accelerate.

I can't fight. I can't resist. I am bleeding out. So I do what I can, and piss my pants.

Humiliation and resistance, in one perfectly useless moment.