Melanie lost count of how many times they did it that night. Lust was literally unstoppable. He seemed to be making up for all the times they were not together, and as he explored every part of her body again, she could only be grateful that he was all hers, or so she thought. Perhaps, if she had not been so overwhelmed by feelings of relief, desperation, pleasure and ecstasy, she would have heard him murmur his deceased soulmate’s name over and over again.
She woke up the next morning to an empty bed, but she did not feel so disheartened. The effects of the previous night had not cleared off, and she laid in bed, content. If she died at that time, it would be with a smile on her face. After so long, she felt like a woman again. She felt whole.
Even when Lascivus returned to see her still sprawled on the bed, with bodily fluids sticking to her skin like glue, she made no move to greet him.
He ignored her at first, disgusted by her shameless act. She did no
The quest to find his father, Lascivus Läwst, is not an easy one, but Brandon refuses to be deterred. Without completing this mission, he might as well not bother with his demonic heritage. How else will he survive?He has extracted the memories of every living person who was connected to his father in any way, yet he is nowhere close to finding out who his father is. There are several gaps that are yet to be filled, but he at least knows that there is a fat chance of his father being human. From his otherworldly physical features to his quirks and strange tendencies, a lot of things point back to the truth- his father is a demon, and a high-ranking one at that.His sojourn in all seven continents, from the ‘island continent’ of Australia to the icy regions of Antarctica, was instrumental in obtaining clues, but he still requires one final push. The search for his father required lots of time and resources, and what more does a demon who happens to be
Llearht’s voice halts him in his tracks. “I could answer all of your questions right now, but I have to be sure that the deal is still on.”“What deal?”“You’re not stupid, tuakana. Don’t tell me your brain is miniature too.”“Call me small one more time and I’ll gut you like a goddamn seabass.”“Wow. Are you sure you know your way around my body? You wouldn’t happen to be a surgeon, would you? Wait. What am I even saying? Even if you are a surgeon, you’ve only ever had to deal with human anatomy. How would you know whether my heart is in my chest or under the sole of my feet?”“Do you mean your heart is under the sole of your feet? Like the story of Achilles? How is that even possible? Were you born like that? Which of your feet holds your heart?” Brandon’s curiosity is piqued by what he thinks is an anomaly. As a child, he had always
Brandon returns to the cellar four days later. For the past four days, he thought about the demon’s request. Demons are naturally greedy, cunny, and twisted, so it is rather queer for this one to demand a single question as payment for answering all of his questions and clearing his doubts.After several considerations (and reconsiderations), he decides to give the demon the benefit of doubt. How harmful could a question be? Besides, I can always skirt around the truth- I am the Master of Twisted Words, after all. And if push comes to shove, I’ll just torture him till he rescinds his question or even opts for another deal.“What a fine morning. How has your stay been so far? Any complaints?”Llearht simply stares back at him. The demon does not look much different. His cheeks are a bit sunken and his brunet hair reminds Brandon of his mother’s signature look- wild and sinfully sexy. Brandon wonders if his hair is as s
“I never thought tuakanawas stupid.”Brandon halts in his tracks, unable to believe what he just heard. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Yes, it must be the sickening stench of death and decay clouding my mind.He continues moving when he hears the voice again. This time, it is much louder, and the half-demon clenches his fists so hard that his nails cut into his flesh. Turning around ever so slowly, he regards the half-demon with hooded eyes. What’s his plan now?The ever-dutiful Ultima reminds his absent-minded master of the dire situation of the subject and only then does the half-demon react.“Are you ready to talk to me?”“I w-was a-a-always ready…” Llearth erupts into a hacking fit. The sight is oddly reminiscent, and Brandon experiences a feeling of déjà vu. While it seems like there is no end to the lesser demon’s coughing bout, Brandon knows h
“What do you mean I changed? What are you talking about?” Brandon is once more stupefied by the lesser demon’s words. This had better not be another of his shenanigans.“As much as I would love to answer all of your questions, we, or should I say you, are yet to make your stand concerning the deal known. What say you?”“We’re not in the nineteenth century, man.”“I’m well aware of mortal age and time. I can speak in whatever tongue I please. Or is that prohibited too?”“That isn’t the point.”“Then what is? It sure as isn’t your Loubotinis though. You’ve been glancing at your feet since you came here, and I’m starting to think that they’re more important than what you need from me.” Noticing the skeptical glance the half-demon gives him, he snorts. “What? You think Hell is Backwater County, don’t you? I’
“What does tuakana mean? I tried searching for its meaning across several encyclopaedias, but got nothing tangible in return.”“First and foremost, it’s pronounced two-a-kana, and not that mortal slur emanating from that exotic piehole of yours. Secondly, what on Earth and everything mortal made you think of scouring human books for translations to demon lingua francas? You must be either too confident, or just plain stupid. And your recent actions prove to me that the latter is more probable.”Brandon tries to not let his irritation show. Quick breaths, Don. Quick breaths. When he has managed to put his erstwhile tendencies under control, he repeats the question, making sure to sound as unannoyed as possible.Ha! As if that could fool me. Your heritage may outclass mine by several tiers, but I’ve been a messenger far longer than you’ve been alive, boy. Llearth inwardly smirks at the half demon’s attempt to remain
He can’t go anywhere, not with how fortified this place is. Escaping from here is only a pipedream. With that conviction, Brandon pretends not to notice the lesser demon’s critical gaze. And so the barrage of questions continue, each one trying to outsmart the other, like a typical game of chess.“How can one go to Hell?”Llearth chokes on his non-existent saliva. “A-and why would you wanna go to Hell? Most humans want to go to Heaven!” he shutters and stares at the half demon like one would stare at an alien from outer space.“I think it’s been established that I’m not a normal human. As a matter of fact, I am anything but human.”“You’re not a demon either,” Llearth not so quietly murmurs. I don’t know what you are, but you’re certainly not just a demon.“What did you say?”“Nothing. I said nothing. What was your qu
For the past six months, Travis has struggled to do something he ordinarily would have no problems doing- opening a dilapidated, worm-infested gate which is about as heavy as his father’s quill. One might think the sight of a young demon sitting slightly above the ground, cross-legged with eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed in a thin line a normal occurrence, as it was common to see students lost in concentration. But that would be in a school, or within closed quarters. It will certainly not be in front of an atrophied, tatterdemalion structure that has surely seen better days, under the heat of the sweltering sun. That isn’t strange- it’s pure madness. Demons, being extremely strong supernatural beings, do not fall prey to mortal diseases like cancer. Their wounds are never infected, because they heal too fast to leave festering sores, and their immune system, or whatever demonic equivalent they have, is too powerful for the likes of sepsis or inflammation,
The slaughter formation is triggered, and it reaps the lives of the opposition without delay.As the formation drains the blood from the witches, screams of varying pitches and intensities rend the air. The High Witch makes sure to seal the entire room within a bubble that prevents sound from escaping to the surroundings. Even though the office of the High Witch is in a secluded place, it is better to take no chances with something like this.The screams are a queer melody to Estelle’s ears, as she revels in their suffering. Finally, she can be at ease, knowing that there is one less hidden knife capable of stabbing her in the back. The opposition has overstayed their welcome; they have become a parasite that needs to be flushed out as quickly as possible.The redhead witch dies with her eyes opened, full of hate and loathing. Such venomous eyes would scare most people, but it only adds to the beauty of the pictures formed in her mind, the mental images sh
One became the High Witch, and the other is widely known as the Jade Witch. Two sisters with the ancient bloodline running in their veins.”At this revelation, everyone is shocked, and the sight of their eyes bulging like they are about to be ejected from their sockets gives the High Witch a twisted sense of joy. Now you know how it feels to be ‘shocked senseless’. You haven’t heard anything yet. By the time I am done with you, you will have to pick up those eyeballs, along with your jaws, from the floor before I end you.“Now, tell me,” Estelle cocked her head to the side, like a doctor trying to explain something simple to a mentally challenged individual, “why I would fear the likes of you. If not for her intervention, would you still be alive to spout nonsense?”Estelle does not need to categorically mention the ‘her’ in this context. Everyone knows that the only witch who wields power over
Once upon a time, there lived a powerful witch, with magic as powerful as time itself and a beauty that was beyond this world. Unable to completely break free of the psychological shackles that had bound her as a witchling, she chose to dwell in a cave, isolated from the rest of her kind. Perhaps, it was a good decision, for everyone else feared her as much as she feared herself, or even more. As they say, out of sight is out of mind. And thus, she was gradually forgotten.She had a rather queer relationship with her sister, for they were not friends, but they could not be said to be enemies either. They were as different as lard and cheese, yet they could trust each other a pinch.The horns of war beckoned once more, and her sister, alongside many other powerful witches and wizards, joined in the battle for supremacy against the spawns of Hell. This time, however, she was left with the last child of her sister, a witchling that had barely lived up to half a century.
“Stop beating about the bush and tell us what you have discovered, Heidi.” One of the older witches berates her, and she apologises with a pout. Her sullen expression makes he look all the more adorable.Heidi. A beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman.Estelle Vane is not so self-absorbed to think that she is the only beautiful witch in the world. And she does not mince words when it comes to admiring something that is deservedly worthy of the label ‘beautiful’.This does not affect her stance though. Heidi and the rest of her acquaintances will be reduced to corpses today, and the High Witch will make sure of that. nothing can threaten the safety of her daughter. Not at this time.She can only blame herself for being with the wrong people.“Awakening is a matter of joy and a cause for celebration, because at last, the children are becoming adults. More importantly, the Awakening of the so-call
Were Sandara here, she would notice the tell-tale signs of nervousness- a ticked jaw, slightly narrowed eyes and the twitching of the left little finger- on the High Witch’s face. But, she isn’t, and the ones who are here are none the wiser.“I do not recall making a formal announcement of an Awakening, so I would like to know the basis of this declaration.”“So you admit it, then.”“Admit what?”“Admit that you neglected to announce your daughter’s Awakening.”“I admit to nothing. I have no knowledge of the matters you speak of.”Estelle chooses to play dumb, and everyone in this room knows it. Since she refuses to admit to anything, there is no evidence against her. All they have are just allegations. Mere words that do not hold water before the council or any other regulatory body they can report her to.It's annoying when you know the truth but cannot pr
Natalia’s failed awakening has far-reaching consequences than she can ever imagine.When a child fails, he or she does not fail alone.Failure spreads out to its surroundings, like the butterfly effect. Everyone around you is as affected by your failure as they are by your success.And when your identity is special, the pressure you face is tougher than you can imagine. There is a lot at stake. Perfection is required of you, and this slowly but inevitably becomes the norm. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, true. But for the scion of the crown-wearer, things are worse.You cannot fail.You dare not fail.Estelle Vane is one of the most powerful witches to ever walk the Earth, but even she is not exempt from this convention.One of the motives behind the witches’ acceptance of a hybrid as their supreme ruler is due to the potential she possesses. Who cares if her blood is diluted? The power inherent in it is already
Realizing that his nonchalant words may have upset and somehow irked a certain highly-ranked demon, Maestro Baghül rephrases his sentence in a less detached manner. We want to poke the dear, but let’s not overdo it.“Prior to completing his first task, he wasn’t my student. But that is beside the point. Your scion decided to enter with a bang, and my beloved gate has to face the consequences of his flamboyant actions. As if that was not enough, his guard vomited all over my rug. My rug!For Lucifer’s sake! That rug is…”“a rare, exotic gift from the mortal realm. I know. I doubt you will let me hear the end of it though.” Pride does not let his former colleague finish. But can these words be enough to stop a disgruntled ghoul from airing his grievances? Highly unlikely.There is a reason ghouls are unforgiving, grudge-keeping creatures.“I am not particularly concerned with what y
Travis hangs limply in the air, blood continuously streaming from his orifices like water from a tap.At this rate, he’d be dead.Oh no! what have I done!The panic worsens Klade’s condition, and he struggles to breathe. He begins to choke on his vomit, and the chief ghoul knows that he has to intervene before things get out of hand. Grumbling to himself about being cheated by Pride, he drops Travis on a mattress he conjured out of air in an unceremonious fashion.Upon reaching Klade, he realizes that the whites of the guard’s eyes have begun showing.This is bad. Just what did Pride do to him to trigger this?Hitting Klade’s chest does little to quell the rising panic reflected in the guard’s eyes. Were this situation not so dire, Maestro Bahgül would’ve tried to capture this on a canvas. The lack of technology like the digital camera necessitated the use of painting or drawi
A loud crash rouses Klade from the depths of a restless, worry-filled slumber.It is said that when a body at a state of rest or in uniform motion is interrupted by a moving force, dissonance and chaos, the not-so-distant siblings of confusion, ensue.Klade springs up like a provoked python rearing to unleash a fatal strike, but the restraints around him remind him of the reality of his situation. Most binds would’ve loosened by now, if he didn’t manage to shred them apart. But this is not ‘most binds’.This are binds set in place by a chief ghoul in his prime. And if he doesn’t want you to move, you have no other choice. You must stay as you are.With his senses strengthened by his ancestor’s blessing, Klade can sense that his sudden, violent movement placed a great strain on his restraints. But he also senses that they are nowhere close to snapping.He would have broken into a flurry of colourful swear words, h