He Hunts With Laughter
A Horde Side Story — The Forests of Eternia
The order was simple: bring back something alive. For most, it would be a mission. For Sting-Or, it’s entertainment. Beneath the dying leaves of Eternia’s forest, the Horde’s assassin waits—watching, listening, and smiling behind the rock. This is He Hunts With Laughter, a tale of venom, patience, and fear disguised as amusement.
The Forest Listens
The forest of Eternia whispered in layers—rustle, click, hum.
The kind of symphony only an insect could love.
And Sting-Or listened to it all.
Hidden behind a jagged stone, his eyes glowed faintly green through the shade—twin lanterns of venomous intent. Every breeze carried news to him: sap, fur, iron, fear. The forest spoke, and he understood its language better than most. For He Hunts With Laughter, and laughter is patient.
The Hive had taught him patience.
The Horde had taught him treachery.
And somewhere between the two, he had learned amusement.
“A new experiment,” Hordak had said, voice sharp as broken glass.
“Bring me something alive. I wish to run tests on something expendable.”
Sting-Or had bowed, as all did before the Master of the Fright Zone.
But even then, he’d smiled behind the mask.
Every command was an opportunity. Every mission, a proving ground. Hordak thought him loyal—let the fool think it. A patient scorpion always strikes when the moment is ripe. Overthrowing Hordak and taking command of his army take patience.
But today wasn’t that day.
The Perfect Fool
Now, beneath the dying gold of autumn leaves, he’d found the perfect fool.
Through the grass, a massive orange shape stumbled into view. Beast Man—snarling, scratching, mumbling to himself about “territory” and “respect.” His whip dragged behind him like a forgotten thought. He paused, nose lifted, testing the air. For a moment those animal instincts flared—something wasn’t right. But the moment passed, dismissed with a grunt.
Sting-Or’s mandibles clicked in disgust.
“Of all of Skeletor’s minions, they send him to patrol? A sack of fur and failure,” he hissed softly. “Skeletor’s taste in subordinates rots faster than my venom glands.”
He grinned. “He’s perfect.”
He pressed his back against the stone, tail twitching with restrained laughter. The ground vibrated faintly as unseen insects scurried at his command—his spies, his soldiers. The Scorpion Hive watched with him, silent and eager.
A thought flickered.
Why end it quickly?
The Hive Stirs
He reached into the soil with his will, calling forth a small detachment of crimson-backed scorpions. They emerged like a living tide, tails arched, clicking as one.
“Go,” he whispered. “Test the meat.”
Dance of Fear
The swarm scattered into the tall grass, disappearing beneath leaves and roots. Moments later, Beast Man jerked upright with a guttural growl. He slapped at his leg, then his arm, confusion twisting into rage. Another sting. Then another.
“GRRRAAAHHH! What—what’s biting me!?” he roared, stumbling backward into a tree.
Sting-Or’s grin widened.
He could almost taste the venom seeping through that thick orange hide.
“Dance for me, Beast Man,” he murmured. “Let the Hive taste your clumsy fear.”
The forest echoed with howls and snapping branches as Beast Man thrashed about, swinging his whip wildly at unseen foes.
The Assassin Waits
Sting-Or remained still. Watching. Relishing.
Each strike, each panicked growl, was a symphony.
His symphony.
The Horde had called him their assassin, but even they didn’t grasp the pleasure he took in the hunt. Orders or not, every kill was personal.
The wind shifted again. The scent was ripe now—sweat, toxin, confusion.
He leaned forward, every muscle drawn tight with venomous delight. The forest would remember this night, and whisper of the one who never struck in haste—because He Hunts With Laughter.
“Yes,” he whispered. “The game begins.”
And from behind the stone, the Master of the Scorpion Hive waited—motionless, patient, savoring the final tremor before the strike.
– Copyright © 2025
About These Toy Figures
This short story was inspired by a toy photography scene featuring:
- Sting-Or — Portraying the Evil Horde’s Scorpion Commander from Mattel Creations, this figure stands as Master of the Scorpion Hive and Commander of vast insect legions. In this story, he is depicted waiting in the shadows, calculating his next move, and dreaming of the day he’ll overthrow Hordak to claim control for himself.
