Cogman stepped out of the mansion and into the night, his expression calm, almost serene. But behind his eyes, something dark and eager stirred.
He made his way to the outskirts of the city, where an abandoned warehouse sat isolated among industrial ruins. Inside, twenty-four Laurent hunters were gathered, believing themselves safe. They sat around a large metal table, sharing a meal, laughing, unaware that death had already arrived.
Cogman entered like he owned the place.
The hunters froze mid-bite. They recognized him instantly—the man Gerard told them killed three of their hunters a few nights ago, and the butler of the kid who probably killed Marcus and his hunter party two months ago.
Without a word, Cogman turned his back to them and raised his hand. His fingers shifted, reforming into a blazing plasma torch. A searing line of light cut through the air as he welded the door shut behind him. The metal glowed red, then cooled, sealing them all inside.
He turned back to face them, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Good evening, gentlemen."
At the head of the table, an older man with cold eyes and a cruel mouth rose slowly. He smiled back, though his was laced with arrogance. "We were going to come hunt you and your freak master tonight. But who knew you'd be stupid enough to deliver yourself to us?" He glanced around at his men. "Boys, make him feel the pain of killing our people. And don't kill him until he apologizes for the death of my son."
Cogman's smile widened. "You must be Henri Laurent—the head of the Laurent hunter family. The family that hunts anyone, supernatural or human, for money, with no regard for innocence." His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "And speaking of your son, Marcus… I was the one who killed him. He screamed like a little bitch while I had my fun with him. Too bad he was too weak. He died too quickly."
Henri's face contorted with rage. "Boys, light him up!"
The hunters grabbed their rifles from the table and opened fire.
Cogman raised one hand lazily. A translucent blue energy barrier shimmered into existence before him—the shield he'd gained after fusing with the Iron Man Armor: Mark 85. Bullets struck it and flattened, fragments scattering harmlessly to the floor. Not a single round penetrated.
Panic flickered across the hunters' faces.
Henri shouted, "Use grenades!"
One hunter pulled a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin. He drew his arm back to throw, but Cogman's finger twitched. A thin, precise laser shot from his fingertip, striking the grenade just as it left the hunter's hand.
The explosion ripped through the warehouse. The hunter who'd thrown it was killed instantly. The man beside him crumpled, shredded and bloody. Others dove for cover, shouting in chaos.
Cogman lowered his hand, his expression mockingly serene. "Now, now. Grenades are too dangerous. I don't want you gentlemen dying too soon." His arms shifted, the nanites reshaping into brutal melee weapons—his right hand became a spiked morningstar, his left a heavy war hammer. "I'm here to have fun. So I'm going to keep you alive as long as I can."
He attacked.
The hunters never stood a chance. Cogman was too fast, too precise, too relentless. He flowed between them like a shadow made of steel, his weapons rising and falling with sickening precision. He didn't kill—not yet. Screams filled the warehouse as he shattered arms and legs, leaving the hunters writhing on the ground, unable to fight back.
Then his real, twisted fun began.
Henri, now tied to a chair, watched in horror as Cogman methodically worked through his men. Arms were torn from sockets. Windpipes were crushed. Hearts were ripped from chests and tossed aside. Every bone that could be broken was broken. The warehouse became a slaughterhouse, painted in blood and echoing with desperate, agonized cries.
When the last hunter fell silent, Cogman stood among the carnage, his work complete. He surveyed the scene with a satisfied smile.
Then he began to clean.
He severed each hunter's head and stacked them carefully in the center of the warehouse, forming a gruesome pyramid. He carried the bodies to the incinerator room in the back and fed them to the flames one by one. When the fire had consumed them, he washed the blood from his nanite skin, returning to his immaculate appearance.
Finally, he turned to Henri.
Tied to a chair, his gun gone, and his dignity shattered, the old hunter stared at Cogman with wide, horror-filled eyes.
"Please," Henri begged, his voice cracking. "Let me go. I-I'll leave Beacon Hills... I'll never come back. Please."
Cogman smiled gently. "The moment you came here to hunt my master, you were already dead. Don't bother begging for mercy. You'll get none from me—just as you showed none to the countless innocent people you and your family hunted for years."
"I'll pay you!" Henri's voice rose desperately. "Seventy million dollars! I'll buy my life!"
Cogman snorted. "I said don't bother." He reached into Henri's coat and retrieved a bank card. "As for your money? I'll take every penny—not just seventy million."
Henri's last hope crumbled. His eyes burned with hatred. "I hope you and your master and your whole family die miserable deaths! Go on, kill me! I'm not afraid of death!"
"Don't worry," Cogman said softly. "I will kill you. But not yet. I saved you for last because I want to try something very fun with you." He leaned close, his smile turning predatory. "I promise you'll love it."
He punched Henri in the face. The old man's head snapped back, and he slumped, unconscious.
Cogman found a large bag in the warehouse, stuffed Henri inside, and slung it over his shoulder. He walked out into the night, leaving behind a blood-soaked warehouse with a pyramid of severed heads standing silent vigil in the middle.
---
Cogman returned to the mansion and slipped quietly into the backyard. He sent a quick text to Jacob: [Sir, can you meet me in the backyard?]
He waited. Nothing.
Then Henri woke up inside the bag and started screaming.
Cogman panicked. He dropped the bag and began kicking it furiously. "Shut up! Shut up, or I swear I'll torture you for days!"
The screaming continued.
Cogman mentally dialed Jacob's phone.
Finally, Jacob answered, sounding annoyed. "Cogman, I'm in the middle of a game. What do you want?"
"Can you meet me in the backyard, sir? I need to ask a favor—but please don't tell the ladies."
"What favor?"
"Meet me first, and I'll explain."
Jacob sighed. "Fine. Give me five minutes."
As Cogman waited nervously, Henri's muffled screams grew louder.
Inside the mansion, Allison and Malia heard the noise. They exchanged a glance and headed outside to investigate.
Cogman spotted them and froze. He quickly tried to hide the wriggling bag behind his back, forcing a polite smile. "Good evening, my ladies. Are you finished watching your show?"
Allison's eyes narrowed at the bag. "What's in the bag, Cogman?"
"Nothing to concern yourself with, my lady. You should go back inside—it's cold out here."
Henri screamed again.
Cogman kicked the bag, and dropped an elbow on it, then choked Henri until he went limp. He stood, straightened his suit, and turned back to Allison with an innocent expression. "Did you have dinner yet, my lady?"
Allison crossed her arms. "Don't change the subject. Who's in the bag?"
Cogman sighed in defeat. "It's the head of the Laurent family. Henri Laurent."
"And why did you bring him here?"
Cogman thought frantically. "Oh! Sir wants to read his memories! Yes. Yes, that's it."
Allison's eyes narrowed further. "I know you're lying. But whatever reason you brought him here, I don't want to hear his screams. Take him to the woods." She fixed him with a stern look. "And Cogman? This is the last time you bring someone home to have your twisted fun with."
Cogman nodded quickly, almost bowing. "Yes, my lady. I will never bring my prey back home again. I promise."
Allison turned and went inside.
Malia, however, lingered. She walked up to Cogman with a knowing smirk. "So. Now that Allison's gone… why did you really bring him here?"
Cogman glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then whispered, "I want to get inside of him."
Malia's eyes widened. She gave him a deeply weirded-out look. "Gross. I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff."
Cogman's face cycled through several expressions of horror. "No, no! That's not what I meant, my lady! Just wait until sir gets here!"
Just then, Jacob walked out from the mansion. "Cogman. What do you want?"
"Let's go to the woods first, sir."
Jacob put an arm around Malia, kissed her, then used his telekinesis to wrap Cogman and the bagged Henri together. He teleported them all deep into the woods.
Once they landed, Jacob said, "Alright. Spill. What's this about?"
Cogman's eyes gleamed with eager anticipation. "I want you to hit me with the shrink ray, sir."
Jacob blinked. "What for?"
"I want to go inside Henri's body. Play around in there for a while. Then, when the shrink ray's effect wears off, I'll grow larger inside him and… well." He smiled pleasantly. "He'll die."
Jacob stared at him for a long moment. Then he grimaced. "Alright, you psycho. But I don't want to see that."
Malia's eyes lit up. "That sounds interesting. I want to watch."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah!" She grinned. "Stay and watch with me. It'll be fun."
Jacob sighed. "Fine."
Cogman pulled Henri from the bag and laid him on the ground. Jacob retrieved the shrink ray from his pocket dimension and aimed it at Cogman. He held the trigger until Cogman had shrunk to barely two centimeters tall.
They watched as the tiny Cogman scurried toward Henri's open mouth and disappeared inside.
A moment later, Henri jolted awake with a sharp, agonized cry. He clutched his stomach, writhing on the forest floor. His eyes found Jacob and Malia, wild with pain and confusion.
"It's you—the master of that psychopathic butler!" Henri gasped between screams. "What did you do to me?"
Jacob shrugged. "I didn't do anything."
Henri doubled over, screaming as another wave of excruciating pain tore through him. "What—what is moving inside me?! Please! Make it stop! I'm begging you!"
Jacob watched him writhe for a moment, then turned to Malia. "Let's go. Cogman won't be back to normal size for another hour."
"Alright," Malia said. "But we have to come back before he does."
Jacob teleported them back to the mansion. He returned to his video games while Malia joined the others in the living room.
An hour later, Jacob went to fetch Malia. He found Stiles there too, cuddled up with Erica on the couch, watching TV with the girls.
Jacob smirked. He hugged Malia, then wrapped Stiles in his telekinesis and teleported all three of them back to the woods.
They found Henri still alive—just barely. His screams had weakened to hoarse, broken whimpers. His body convulsed sporadically as something moved beneath his skin.
Stiles, who moments ago had been blissfully cuddling his girlfriend, found himself on the cold forest ground. He looked at Jacob, then at Malia, then at the writhing, screaming old man nearby.
"Who's that?" Stiles asked, pointing. "And what's wrong with him?"
"That's Henri Laurent," Jacob said. "Head of the Laurent hunter family. And Cogman's the thing causing him pain."
Stiles looked around. "Where is Cogman?"
Malia smirked. "Inside the old man's body."
Stiles's face went through several stages of horror. "What? I don't even want to know how he did that. But why did you bring me here?"
Jacob grinned mischievously. "Cogman's doing something disgusting and creepy. Malia wanted to watch. And I can't suffer alone, buddy. So I brought you to suffer with me. You're welcome."
Stiles gave him a flat look. "Thanks. What a great friend you are." He watched Henri claw at his own stomach. "What's Cogman doing in there, anyway?"
Suddenly, Henri's stomach bulged outward.
Stiles stumbled back. "What's happening?!"
Jacob raised a hand, conjuring a telekinetic shield in front of them. Just in time.
Henri let out one final, bloodcurdling scream. Then his chest and stomach exploded in a gruesome spray of flesh and blood as Cogman's body expanded back to its normal size, bursting free from the remains.
Malia made a disgusted face. "Gross. I thought it would be interesting, but that was just… disturbing."
"I told you it would be disgusting," Jacob said. "But I'm not gonna lie—it was interesting to watch. Like a scene from Alien, except instead of a xenomorph bursting out of a human, it was our psychopathic butler."
Cogman stood up, brushing viscera from his suit with a grimace. "Well. That wasn't as fun as I thought it would be. I'm never doing that again." He noticed Stiles staring at him in shock and took a step forward toward him with a smirk.
Stiles immediately stepped back. "Stay away from me, you psychopath! And how did you even shrink in the first place? Should I be worried about you getting inside me?"
Cogman looked almost offended. "I just said I'd never do that again. It wasn't enjoyable."
"I don't trust you, you sick bastard. I don't think I'll ever sleep again."
Jacob incinerated Henri's remains with a wave of dragonfire. "Relax, Stiles. Cogman won't get inside you. Besides, I'm the one who shrunk him." He pulled the shrink ray from his pocket dimension. "With this."
Stiles's eyes went wide. "Wait—that's the shrink ray from Despicable Me!"
"Yes."
Stiles's horror transformed into pure, manic excitement. "Can I borrow it?!"
"No. But I'll do you a favor and help you live the dream of all men."
Stiles blinked. "What dream?"
Jacob gave him a knowing smirk. "Let's get back first." He shot Cogman a disgusted look. "You can walk home. Wash all that gore off." Then he teleported himself, Malia, and Stiles back to the mansion, leaving Cogman alone in the bloody woods.
---
They reappeared in the living room, where Melissa, Lydia, Erica, and Allison were watching TV.
Allison looked up. "Where did you guys go?"
"Trust me," Jacob said, "you don't want to know."
He raised the shrink ray and fired it at Stiles, shrinking him to the size of five centimeters. Then he hit himself with the ray and shrank to the same tiny size. He pocketed the ray and walked over to Stiles, whispering something that made Stiles's tiny face split into a perverted grin.
The girls watched as Tiny Stiles sprinted toward Erica.
Jacob teleported and reappeared on Lydia's chest. He promptly dove into her cleavage and burrowed deep, making her giggle.
Stiles followed suit, climbing into Erica's chest and disappearing with a delighted squeak from her.
Allison stared at Lydia's chest with undisguised annoyance. "Pervert."
Lydia smirked. "Jealous he didn't choose you? You can't blame him. Mine are bigger. And more comfortable."
Allison's eye twitched. "Bitch."
Lydia just laughed, then squirmed. "Jay, stop! You're tickling me!"
Jacob, thoroughly enjoying himself, sent a telepathic message to Allison, Melissa, and Malia: [Don't worry, girls. I haven't forgotten about you. I'll come play with your fun bags soon.]
Melissa panicked and said aloud, "Don't!"
Everyone looked at her.
She blushed furiously, stood up, and announced, "I'm going to rest. Good night, girls." She fled the room and teleported to Serendell.
Twenty minutes later, Jacob teleported to Allison's chest and played there for another twenty minutes before moving to Malia's. He was having the time of his life. 'Why didn't I think of this sooner?' he thought.
After an hour, Jacob and Stiles both felt the shrink ray's effect beginning to wear off. They climbed out just before returning to full size.
Stiles scooped Erica into his arms. "Good night, everyone!" He bolted out of the mansion and ran toward his house at supernatural speed, Erica giggling the whole way.
Jacob kissed Lydia and Malia. "Good night, girls." Then he hugged Allison and teleported them both to his room in Serendell.
He laid her gently on the bed, climbed on top of her, and kissed her deeply. Soon, the room filled with the sound of Allison's pleasure.
To be continued… 😊
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