Eight
Dommic Di Nunzio
“Neither love nor evil conquers all, but evil cheats more.”Laurell K. Hamilton
Game in progress, 2017, test two- the cleaning chamber
to the sanctum, I switched on the industrial sprinklers in the cleaning chamber along with the giant fan at the back of the room. The fluorescent lights had nearly blinded Amelia compared to the darkness that I’d kept her in, and a sadistic glee filled me as I watched her shrink back against the light.
Light, after all, would do her no good here. This was a house of horrors, yes, but it was, most of all, a house of darkness. Shadow and malice coated the walls as thoroughly as any paint or paper, inscribed in the very foundation as profane ruins of destruction put there by my own two claws.
Home sweet demonic home.
Returning my attention to the monitors, I watched the near-freezing water pour from the ceiling as the spinning blades created localized gale-force winds. It wouldn’t take long for Amelia to freeze, trapped in the confines of my evidence disposal system.
“Tick-tock, little doll. You better get a move on.” I switched the fan to max. “You have about fifteen minutes before you freeze to death. You’ll keep better that way, but I do enjoy my meals warm. And kicking.”
Soaked to the skin, hair dripping into her face, Amelia glared up at the obvious camera in this room, shivering and teeth chattering. But there was no shock in her expression. So, you’ve pieced that together, have you. And you still want to find me? Hmm.
The white fabric that covered Amelia’s delectable breasts clung to her skin, turning transparent as it soaked up icy water. I couldn’t decide if this version was better than seeing her naked in the shower. There was something about seeing parts of a body that you shouldn’t, like the dip of a loose blouse when someone bent over or a breezy day that lifted a person’s skirt, that was especially intriguing.
Naked, of course, was best when the skin was covered in blood, dripping from head to toe, and I didn’t particularly care who it belonged to.
My erection throbbed as Amelia scurried through the cleaning chamber, attempting to find a way out. There was only one, obviously, and she wasn’t going to like how she had to get to it. But I would.
Tracking the roster I'd pulled up from when Amelia had attended San Domingo, I'd noticed some particularly interesting. It looked like I'd met someone from the university.
“god fucking dammit!”
Amelia cursed as she slipped once more on the tile floor, landing on her ass with a loud smack. Her cheeks would be red and bruised at this rate, and imagining the markings covering her flesh, a little taste of the ‘branding’ I liked to give my brides, made my veins hum with electricity. I wanted to carve my name into her flesh and make her wear it for the rest of her life so that everyone knew who she belonged to.
As she blinked away the falling droplets, Amelia finally noticed the bodies in the room with her. One was tucked away safe in a bodybag on the morgue table, while another had been pinned to the wall with steel rods. It was an excellent way to drain any remaining liquid that I needed for the paint.
She stifled her reaction, but I could tell the gruesome sight had been burned into the back of her mind. Ah, lovely. Nothing like a little shock value to up the intrigue.
Amelia sank to her knees then, searching around the floor for a lever or switch. The tattered fabric of her black skirt rode up her legs, and that glistening pussy between them was just visible on the screen. Yes, secret glances were particularly arousing. I gripped my cock through my pants, a partial shift into my true form already taking over. I’d need to strip to keep them intact.
Pulling the button-down shirt over my head, I allow my wings to flex into being, stretching them wide in the dark room and nearly swooning at the relief. Staying locked up in human form was so draining. The slacks were next, shed in a flash so my tail and lower legs could tear free.
Whipping the tense muscle through the air, I reached for the control panel with the end of my tail, the heart-like shape gripping the knob for the sprinklers and turning them up to full.
Last, of course, were the horns. They pinched a bit as they tore through the skin on my forehead before it shimmered and adjusted, becoming a smooth gray surface that covered me from head to toe. Early on, in the days before electricity and media, one of my brides had screamed that I was a cursed gargoyle pulled from the rafters of Notre Dame to wreak havoc on the innocent.
If only.
That would be far easier. Innocence was everywhere. Finding the truly depraved, the evil, blackened souls, and the similarly cursed progeny was much more challenging. She believed herself to be a good person, a woman doing the work of the church. But the scars of abuse left across her female parishioners for merely existing as beautiful beings said differently.
“Ahh.”
It felt good to take my true shape, the one I’d used when I’d first arrived in the shadows of the world centuries ago, and as I watched Amelia shake, her lips turning blue, my real cock twitched, leaking abyss as it hungered for her.
“Better get a move on, little doll.”
Her glare reached the camera again, and as the deep brown of her eyes burned fire into the monitors, I stroked my shaft. It ached, acid burning through my veins as it demanded her virgin cunt. Occasionally, when I’d been in human form for too long, I’d forget how much my body, my essence, craved a soul to claim. To destroy.
Now, as Amelia’s breasts fluttered against the shakes raking her body, my hellish erection strained, practically reaching for the screen as she trembled. The thick base, a ring of glowing hot flesh, pounded in time with my pulse, and the coiling shaft rattled like a snake.
“Ugh.” I rolled my thumb across the tip, smearing the sticky shadow across the head. Survive. Survive, little doll, so I can fuck you into the blackest depths and make you mine.
I pumped as Amelia inspected the body bag closer. She unzipped the thick black covering, revealing a preserved kill still wearing her wedding gown. As she grimaced slightly, I squeezed the knot of flesh that glowed molten red. It ached, pain zigging up my nerves to make my head spin ever so slightly.
“Sorry about this.” Her quiet voice drifted up to the speakers.
Amelia pulled the body from the bag, stripping the gown off and tucking it back in the bag without sealing it. Hmm…
Her blue lips rumbled around chattering teeth as she pulled off the wet clothes that were now just a weapon being used against her. She stuffed them under the morgue table, cramming them in the few inches of space between the metal and the ground. Moving the body away from her, Amelia shoved herself into the small space available on the table’s small shelf.
The droplets of ice water stopped hitting her flesh, and after doing her best to shake most of it off, she pulled out the white gown from the body bag and pulled it over her head. The previous wife was not as curvaceous as Amelia, and the swell of her breasts was barely contained by the ridiculously lacey fabric.
With the dry clothes on and a place out of the sprinklers achieved, she curled up into a ball beneath the topmost slab of the morgue table. Lastly, she pulled the body bag over herself, sealing in a bit more warmth.
Clever.
It was a new trick that I’d yet to see used before, but one that bought Amelia more time. Stranger and strangest yet, the display evoked something within me, and as I squeezed down around my shaft as it vibrated with need, I used my tail on the knobs once again, this time turning the sprinklers and the fan off. Amelia had displayed some quick thinking and a ruthless desire to survive. I decided to reward it.
“Well done, little doll. You still need to find a way out of that room, of course.”
Amelia flicked her stare to the camera, and even through the fuzzy screen, I could see the exhaustion dragging her eyelids closed. Oh, feel free to get some sleep, wife. I’d love to visit your dreams.
She tried to fight it, but after only a few moments, unconsciousness became too strong for her to fight, and Amelia pulled the body bag closer, allowing sleep to claim her.
Perfect.
I stopped my teasing, holding my release off while I whisked myself through the shadows to the cleaning room and right next to Amelia. I remained shifted, and as the ungodly fatigue held my tasty bride in dreamland, I crept myself through the darkness around her to give Amelia a hint at what was yet to come.