A/N: Alright I call this story "Evil Story of Evil" for a reason. It's M, like super M, and it will only get worse with time cause... I'm practicing evil stuff and oh my goodness did I write this? I'm warning you this story is the darkest most evilest, most M thing I've ever made, and it'll be full of things that make me hide under things and hope no one sends me bombs or other dangerous things in the mail. Last warning. This story is Evil. Alright, here we go!

Chapter one: A Simple Misunderstanding

Sire Brant Perillech, second son to Sire Arren Perillench and a family member of the ancient and powerful house of Perillech, future Barren to his lands, was a man of certain tastes. He drank from the finest wines vineyards, ate from the finest quality meats and cheese culled in ancient techniques, and his tables were always only full of the highest and important people. He kept his friends near to him and court and knew people in every kingdom; and he was proud to look down and over his village.

Him drinking at a tavern, some commoners watering hole, was beneath him.

But it was also bad manners to ignore the saviors of britannia.

Brant took a long swig of his ale, the room was packed with people of his town, but his eyes only followed her. This one woman as she moved around the tables, smiling and laughing and working around such riff raff. Her perfectly soft and toned thighs, her small waist, her pouty and full lips- he was entranced. What type of woman was she, that she just existed working around the lowly common people? Living with heroes of legend and traveling around the world?

She was exquisite.

When he heard that The Seven Deadly Sins and their associates had decided to make a stop in his town, he thought they would want to stay in better lodgings, not in here. But he would do what he must to maintain the status quo.

And it wasn't all that terrible.

His eyes zeroed in on a hand that rested on her hip easily, before a shorter boy with blond hair grabbing a rouge handful of her rear, without hesitation, and Brant felt a thrill go up his spine as her cheeks flushed.

She didn't make a fuss.

This was good. She was trained well. A tavern wench needed early and thorough work to break in, and she clearly knew what to do when a man came to her. And as he finished a drink, another woman with pink hair and glasses, in the same outfit, brought another round to the table. As the people around him cheered and laughed into the night, his hands twitched in anticipation as she finally left the room, waving her friends off as she went out into the back.

And he quietly left the room, after her.

Elizabeth slipped off her shoes with a sigh, rubbing her aching feet. Tonight had been great for business! They had all worked so hard, and she had even been able serve to not drop as many trays as normal. Wonderful! She laughed softly as her arms ached, and she put away the trays in the small broom closet in the back with care. She was exhausted and sure that the moment her head hit her pillow, she'd be out like a light.

Sir Meliodas had seen how her arms had started to shake as he stood behind the bar, under the last orders or so, and no matter how much she tried to hide it he always saw right through her. She wanted to work all night through next to everyone, but this was Sir meliodas and, with shout of the last call, he'd asked her to put away the trays. The hidden meaning to head upstairs to get ready for bed not lost as he gave her breast a well meaning last squeeze.

She shook her head as she hummed, the last tray being stacked away with a smile on her lips. Oh, Sir Meliodas would always be like that, no matter what happens. He probably didn't know how to stop. And as she went to put her shoes back on to head upstairs there was a sound behind her, causing her to turn and jump.

A shadow stood in her way to get out. The figure looming over her.

"Oh!" she blinked. It was… a customer? "Are- is everything alright-"

"It is." he cut her off with a smile, his dark brown eyes staring down at her in the dim light, and she could smell how heavily intoxicated he was. Elizabeth kept smiling nervously, creepy slightly around him until the door clicked shut, the sound somehow louder than it seemed. "I- I don't think customers are allowed in here." The room was quickly plunged into darkness as she took a step back, the heel of her foot clattering against a shelf as she couldn't see anymore, before she was roughly grabbed.

Before she could process it Elizabeth had been thrown over a barrel, a pained yelp breaking through her lips as her back hit the side of the wood, her hands shooting outwards as a large weight settles over her hips.

He was-! He was-! "MMm-MM!" Elizabeth's eyes frantically look around as a hand clamped over her mouth, and she immediately tugs hard at the man's shirt, his shoulder, even clawing at skin as she tried to kick him, but his hot and ale filled breath only puffed against her cheek, seemingly unaffected by her struggle.

He smelt her hair, grinding his bony hips into hers. "Come one!" he laughed as she wiggles, even more frantically, "I won't (hic) I won't be much larger than the boy. You can take it!"

A shiver shook her entire body. W-what?

He huffs as his hand lands on her unclothed stomach, rubbing circles into her quivering belly button, and she kept trying to talk under his hand. Which was cute, she wanted to talk to him. Brant leans over more, smiling as he forces her leg to go around his waist so she'll stop that silly kicking, and hiked her small skirt up, "Fuck, you're warm." he moaned as he felt her center through his pants, rubbing deliciously against her. Up and down, up and down. He ground his hardened member over her and it was then that Elizabeth felt his hand go up her thigh, his fingers dragging circles against her skin as he moaned.

She felt nauseous. Waves of sudden terror going down her back as her stomach dropped, and bile started welling in her throat as he kissed the side of her throat. No. No no no no it was wrong. She tried to twist away even as he kept her legs locked around him, shaking her head under his hand. This felt wrong! It was nothing like any touch she had ever felt, nothing like- like Sir Meliodas', nothing she wanted or ever would want and this man needed to let her go!

She tried screaming, but his hand that was over her face was so tight, that it would surely leave a bruise. Leaning the rest of his bodyweight on her so she could barely move at all, her hands scratching uselessly as his clothes and any skin she could, but it wasn't until his hand slowly moved up her body, dragging his nails to touch every dip and curve, that he reached her breast, going under the shirt to grab a painful hold of her. He moaned in her ear, taking her earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it as she whimpered, and he finally became distracted enough to loosen his hold.

She bit him. Hard.

As hard as she could, her teeth sinking into the flesh of his hand as sir Brent wailed, trying to yank his hand free as she pushed again, and he finally stumbled back with bloody indentions of her teeth.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream, sucking in as much air as possible to call for help. "SIR-!"

Her head whipped to the side as he slapped her, and she saw stars. The room spun as the back of her head hit the barrel with a crack, the sound echoing through the room as he finally used a knee to spread her legs, "I told you to do something!" he snarled. "Do your job!" he hissed in her ear and he ripped open her shirt, drinking in the sight of her creamy skin, her round nippels just calling for him to bite and suck as he brought his head down to do just that.

Grabbing the neck tie off the now ruined shirt he grabbed her hands, tying them to a shelf as a dribble of blood ran down her nose and cracked skin. Her nose and eye were already turning a darker red and blue in the dark- well, she wouldn't have had to wear her mistakes, if she had just followed the natural progression of things. So he had to keep a tight hold of her throat, he didn't want to hurt her, she was so very beautiful without injuries, it would be a shame tomorrow to see her walking around with them, but it looked like she was going to be difficult tonight.

He licked a long line from her stomach to her neck as she tried to twist away with a small cry, taking a large handfuls of her needy skin as he squeezed his hand tighter- a choked cough passing through her opened mouth. He groaned at the feeling, twisting the pink hued flesh between his fingers as she finally went somewhat still in his hands. Good! It looked like she needed a lot more training then she was getting now. And he would be glad to help.

Elizabeth shook. What- what was happening? Surely, surely he wouldn't… he would't. She looked down in terrifyingly disbelief, a sob caught between his fingers as her face turned an unhealthy red. She couldn't breath and the pressure in her throat, it was agony. She couldn't breath. Her eyes followed as his hand let go of her breast to dip under her panties, and as he roughly ground his palm against her a long fat, thick finger entering her, painfully. It hurt, but her body still responded against her will.

She whimpered as he started a painfully fast rhythm, her legs twitching as he ground against her hip, curling the finger upwards as she twitched for him. She sobbed, closing her eyes as he kept going and going, wishing she could close her legs and she could feel the muscles inside her respond, quivering. No no no no nonono NO NO NO-

And then the room exploded.

Sir Brent was ripped away so quickly he was there, then not.

The man flew through the air as the room literally ripped apart around them, splinters and planks of wood, floor boards and the door flying off the hinges and into the air with him as his large body went clean through another wall. The shattering explosion boomed and shook the Tavern as Elizabeth's restraints were ripped, and she took a desperate gasp of air as her body dropped to the floor. The barrel suddenly gone.

With a crash his body landed in the other room, and Brent groaned and cried as he laid in a pile of wood, back at the front of the tavern. A room full of people who were just drinking and having a good night, now stood staring in shock around the pile, some shouting and laying in the wreckage now on the floor, standing still at the sudden destruction.

"The hell?" Ban's head popped out of the kitchen as the rest of the sins froze, in the middle of Last Round.

"My lord… is that Sir Perillech?"

Brent tried to stand up, going to push himself up with his right hand when he yelled in agony. And looked down.

Where his hand and wrist once was, there was only a bloody spewing stump. "AAAAGGHHH!" he frantically brought his other hand up to cover the wound, desperate to stop the pain, that only then did his mind process that both of his hands were missing.

"AAAAHHH! AHHH! AAAAAHHH!"

His hands! His hands! Brent screamed, his arms held close to his face as he curled around the bloody stumps. More blood spewed and stained the wood around him as people yelled and pointed, and he squealed in agony, his eyes bulging out. The skin was torn and ripped, in no way a clean break as sharp jagged bones stuck out of chunky flesh. And Brent kicked away with his feet, tumbling back over the scraped wood and slipping on his own blood as he moved towards the people closest to him. But they just backed up as he slid across on the floor, trying to get away from the blinding pain shooting up his arms.

Meliodas stood still in the newly made entrance to the room. His hair covering his eyes and his chin held downwards, a shadow over his form as the others noticed him.

One of the man's hands was still in his clenched fist, the side of his pants covered in Brent's blood. Another hand lay on the ground near him.

His eyes black.

"Oh fuck." Ban hissed, ripping off his apron, "EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!" he roared as he leaped over the counter, Hawk dashing forward with a squeal. And the tavern erupted into yelling as people tripped over themselves to flee out the front door.

Meliodas flinched. His shoulders twitching at a soft sound behind him, and he turned to look at the source as the rest of the room panicked.

Elizabeth sobbed, so incredibly softly that maybe Meliodas only understood her by reading her lips. "Meli-odas," She held out her arms. Wanting comfort. "Si- Mel- I- I-" Elizabeth coughed again, unable to keep talking as her face twisted up in pain, and she curled up on herself, her knees to her chin, coughing uncontrollably. She looked up at Meliodas as she tried to catch her breath, with large dazed blue eyes. Quiet sobs and shaking, she couldn't make a sound if she wanted to, the deep purple marks around her throat making sure of it.

Like Sire Brent wanted it.

It took only one more silent sob to pass from her blue tinted lips before Meliodas finally moved.

Crunch

The future Barren screamed, Meliodas appearing where he was trying to crawl away and his foot snapped the man's leg in two. Right under the knee with enough force to go straight through the floor, and half the man's leg flew up at an impossible angle.

Meliodas grabbed the man by the back of his head, fingers digging into scalp until his nails passed through the skin and clung to the bone, and pulled. Brent's neck and back bent backwards as the man squealed, screaming as his bones and muscles creaked and pulled dangerously with every inch, and he bent like a twig, one of his bloody stumps coming up to futilely try to grab onto Meliodas' hand.

And Meliodas lifted his foot up again, and brought it down on his other knee. Snapping it just the same.

"EEEEAAAAHHHH!"

Diane threw a blanket over Elizabeth, all but picking her off the ground and up the stairs they went, and Meliodas dragged the man towards the front door by his head, his body wiggling in agony. "W-what HAPPENED HERE!" Hawk squawked as he put his body in the way of the hole, shaking. But Meliodas didn't even look in their direction as they passed through the doors- dragging the man behind him like he weighed nothing, a calm look and black eyes as he left a long trail of blood in Brent's wake, and Ban followed somewhat behind.

King just kept still, not having moved from his spot floating above the bar, as he looked at the dismembered hands. Something passed across his eyes, a some sort of understanding, before King grimaced. Looking away in the corner.

The outside walls of the tavern do nothing to dampen the sounds of the man's screaming as Meliodas dragged him down the steps, uncaring of each wail he lets out as his limbs bounced down each, before dragging him through the dirt. Meliodas walked, until he couldn't go any further, a ways a way from his bar. And then he turns slowly, peering down at the little human with something so similar to a bored expression. But the power and pitch black darkness...

Ban stopped by the tavern.

"YOU-!" Brent opened his mouth, finally as his head was let go, ready to yell to swear to beg, to barter, as he twisted around in the dirt, but there was another jolt, and his body was silenced. His eyes went wide. His form freezing as his mind tried to process why he could no longer speak any further.

His jaw was gone. His tongue flapping uselessly in the air.

"MMMMM-MMMMMM GGGG!" Now the meaningless wailing began, the man grasping at nothing with hands not there, blood and dribble spraying the ground and his clothes, and the blood vessels in his eyes burst at the agony he felt. His skin went clammy and white as he quickly lost more blood.

Gowther tilted his head to the side behind the window, peering out from inside the bar with a book and pencil in hand as Meliodas stood unmoving above the man's plight, and he pushed his glasses up his nose.

And on and on it went.

Elizabeth curled up tighter in more blankets than she can count, a cocoon of linens around her body and above her head, her head peeking out a small hole. She was in the middle of her bed in the brightly lit room and, having already taken a shower- where she had laid under the hot spray of water until the hazy form of Diane reappeared by her side, Elizabeth losing track of time as she sat in the bath tub- and her friend had helped her out of the water and into her bedclothes, again picking her up to place her into bed where she now sat.

She hadn't said a word. Not that she could have, her throat was still so painful, but when Hawk had wanted to get on the bed with her, she… she didn't want Hawk. Not that she didn't like him anymore or was angry with him she just- just… she was happy Diane was there to tell him to come after noticing, pulling her pig friend by an ear out the room as she looked at the door, fiddling with her hands nervously.

She had tried to heal the wounds- she had. But be it nerves or something else the power she had finally come to have some knowledge of wouldn't come forth- and her hands had shook terribly until she had just shoved them under the covers.

She was nervous, yes. Yes she was, and in pain. And her heartbeat was fluttering nauseatingly in her throat, but at the same time it felt like her heart was in her stomach. And she waited. Curling her arms around her legs so tightly, thankful at least that the throbbing between her legs had stopped almost immediately after the man had been grabbed.

The door creaks open and she peers up over her knees, jerking up fully when she makes out Sir Meliodas' blonde hair.

"Elizabeth." his voice is normal, steady, and she isn't sure if he is asking for her or simply saying her name as he walks towards their bed. But her arms are out of the covers and outstretched towards him before she can think further on it- and she doesn't know that her heart is beating painfully fast again until suddenly he is there and she's pulling him towards her to cling to him.

He hesitates, for what feels like centuries and only seconds, before his unmoving hands by his sides curl around her, and she presses herself snugly to him. She lays her uninjured cheeks to his chest with a shudder and an almost inaudible whimper as Meliodas moves, the clatter of him slipping off his boots to crawl into bed the only other sound as he carefully maneuveres the Elizabeth-shaped lump to sit somewhat in his lap, and uses an arm to hold her securely. Her fingers cling to his clothes as he swings her blanket covered legs over, pressing his forehead to the top of her head, and his eyes are hidden as she finally figures out the emotion racing through her gut.

She is flushed in disgust, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"Elizabeth…" he blows out a long breath, his voice still normal even as he holds her so, in complete contrast to their embrace as she stares off, curling in on herself. What she was thinking, were these normals thought to have? She wasn't sure. To have after..

She was… no longer pure wasn't she? Would he ever want to- to… She knew Meliodas barely held affection for her in comparison to others in his past, and for him to now know that she was… she was used.

This is what happens to women that lay with men outside of wedlock. They were thrown away. Unattractive and father and Margaret had said...

"So-orry…" she pressed her forehead harder into his shoulder as her eyes burn, tears overflowing over her flushed cheeks to stain his shirt and she sniffles. Her entire body shaking.

For a moment his embrace is too tight, before it relaxes, and as a hiccup brakes through her swollen throat- and oh gods does it hurt to make noise- Meliodas is titling her head back with his chin, making her look up "Hey. Nope, none of that." she can barely see him through her sobbing, her eyes barely open through the torrent of tears, her pulse beating away in her eardrums, but she can still see him smiling so kindly towards her.

"Tomorrow let's take the day off… Okay?" she nods with another sob, unable to see him any longer as he lets out an airless laugh. And she is… is so very thankful he would still treat her so normally.

Her body sags against him in relief, her sobs splitting open her lip again, and not once does he move.