1 comments/ 16112 views/ 7 favorites The Girl with the Hematite Eyes By: temptanddestroy (Informative note. My name is Connor Murphy. I'm sitting here in this huge library and I don't know where to start. I can't believe that I'm here. Me, sitting at the dusty heart of Vatican City! They're treating me well but with a very watchful eye, let me tell you! It's been two years since I was in Sixville last and I've only just begun to rebuild my life. I have a great job back home and a partner that I love and more importantly, loves me back. I should tell you that I was reluctant to come here. I wanted to leave it behind but when Justine called... I just couldn't say no. She called me here to finish the story that she has begun...the events of that night are just too painful for her to put into words. I think they may even be too much for me.... Justine has just popped in (she's looking good!) to check on my progress, so I guess that I'd better start. I'm following her advice to not write it in the first person. It makes sense, as I was not personally witness to all that transpired when the shit hit the fan. She also informed me that this document will never see the light of day and that reassures me no end...) The Girl With The Hematite Eyes. Father Noah Brooks ran his hands through salt-but mostly-pepper hair and entered the bar by the Interstate. A temporary haven before he headed to Sixville. Inside he was praying for the strength to succeed in his task. Why had they sent him? He was not a special man. He was nursing his third beer when he realised that a young man was staring at him very intently from the other side of the bar. "Can I help you, my son?" Brooks asked as softly as he could. He'd not had much experience with the public. The Holy Church had seen to deploy his skills in other ways than in front of any congregation. The young man shrugged. "Just ain't that fond of priests, I guess." He explained pointedly and Brooks detected a trace of Irish accent. Wounds from the Troubles or something else? Brooks was wary. "Don't blame you. Right bunch of bastards." Brooks said, nodding. "Ha!" The man snorted as Brooks slid onto a stool near him. "I'm Father Noah Brooks." "Connor Murphy. Officer Murphy." The man introduced himself, having decided that maybe he could be civil for at least a little while. "So you heading into town or out?" He asked. "Into Sixville actually. A bit church business." Brooks answered, concealing the frown that was keen to appear on his face. Trust in God, he thought to himself. "You?" He inquired as he signalled to the barman to supply them with two more drinks. "Not sure yet. I was going to see an old friend but I doubt I'd be welcome anymore." Brooks said nothing and waited. "My old partner, Sean. He used to be a great guy...he's not any more." "People can make mistakes. No one's perfect..." Brooks offered nonchalantly as he supped his beer. Connor shook his head sorrowfully. "Last time I came up from the city I caught him in an alley with a whore. Cheating on Shannon...that's his wife...he just looked at me as if it was no big deal...." "Sometimes we don't know people as well as we think we do..." "I...I...I knew Sean." Connor growled as he placed his glass down heavy-handedly. "It's that place. Sixville. I had these terrible dreams when I stayed there, Father...." He looked at the priest to see if he was judging him as a nutter. Well, what the fuck? "I've looked into Sixville. It doesn't make sense. Divorce rate is high, pregnancy rate is high, sexual crimes are below average for a town that size." He began to tick off his points on his hand. "Ah, church attendance is practically zero." Connor exclaimed, thinking that last point was the clincher with this man of the cloth. Brooks just looked at the boy. He knew all that and more. A devil on his shoulder whispered into his receptive ear. "You want to know why?" +++++++++++++++++++ The two men were proceeding down the rural road that led up to Sixville when they spotted motion on the slope up ahead of them. The priest slammed on the brakes and pulled the car into the opposite lane to avoid the woman who had skidded into the road. The men were stunned for a few seconds before they jumped from their vehicle to offer assistance. Father Brooks crouched over her and decided that that nothing was broken. He took her hand and guided her to her feet. She was middle-aged and in a state but she must have been very pretty once; pale skin, cheekbones and wide eyes, shame that they were so totally vacant. "Let's get you into the car." Brooks said as he wrapped a consoling arm around the shivering woman. "Father..." Connor warned quietly. "Look at what she's wearing. She's escaped from somewhere." Torn and mud stained as it was it was clear that she was wearing an institutional tunic of some sort. "We appear to be in no immediate danger." Brooks chided as he got the woman settled in the backseat. +++++++++++++++++++ Connor pulled the car in to the next lay-by and turned to inspect their new passenger properly. "Christ. You know who that is?" Connor asked incredulously. Brooks shook his head almost imperceptibly. "That's Justine Dobbs, the sheriff's wife. She was locked in the madhouse years ago 'cause she tried to murder him." Brooks raised an eyebrow and hesitated before speaking. " One feels that justice may not have been served in this case..." Though he'd only just met Justine and heard her story he felt protective of her, but then he knew there many more victims of Sixville out there.... ++++++++++++++++++++ Brooks finished checking the three of them into the motel and joined his unexpected companions. "The Lord surely works in mysterious ways." He sighed as he watched Connor eye the escapee suspiciously. "Come on." "We should turn her in." The policeman stated boldly. "To the Sixville authorities, Connor?" Brooks queried as he hefted his luggage from the trunk. He mentally begged forgiveness at the low blow; Connor's ex-partner was now part of the dubious Sixville power structure. Connor fell silent and took the keys that Brooks held out for him. +++++++++++++++++++++ Justine's eyes roved around the room, wide and fast in incomprehension, as the father tucked her into one of the twin beds. "You were going to tell me what's going on..." Connor growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "An insidious evil has taken possession of Sixville, corrupting all that it touches. The Church only knew for sure a few months ago....but 'they've' been here for decades, putting down roots, manipulating and twisting everyone as they will." "Who?! Goddamn it, who!?" "Demons, Connor. The succubae, a few incubi maybe, but they're fewer in number. We don't know why they've chosen to congregate in such numbers or in this place." Connor slowly scratched his forehead. "Fucking hell, standard Catholic bullshit." He paced the room, trying to restrain his anger. He should have known better. He should have fucking known better. "Wait, Connor! I swear I'm not preaching old superstition and nonsense. There are species out there that evolved beside mankind and feed upon us. They are very, very good at going unnoticed." "They feed on souls, little by little, little by little, little by little but they can't if you're in your head....deep inside." Both men jumped up at Justine's words. She hadn't said a word the whole ride here despite Brooks questioning her. There was a definite degree of focus in her pretty eyes now. "Justine? How are you feeling?" Father Brooks asked, going over to her. She ignored him. "even if you stay away from them their voices carry in the breeze...builds up like silt in the stream..." She was rocking from side to side unconsciously. "Humph!" Connor cried. Sure, something was going on in Sixville but demons? Hell, he weren't falling that! "Connor. Let me talk. One hour, then if you want to walk out, you're free to go." Connor slumped down on to the floor by the electric heater. What did he have to lose? It was not as if he had a plan of his own. How do you combat a high divorce rate? He weren't no marriage counsellor. ++++++++++++++ "Milton, in Paradise Lost, tells of Sin and Death, two beings that Lucifer encounters on his way from Pandaemonium to Eden. They follow him and take residence on Earth. That's the poetry but it has an actual foundation in truth. Death raped his mother; Sin or Samohteht, which is the 'Mother of Unnature' in ancient tongue. Their offspring, Rakeb, was an unholy mix of death and sin. He was the mythological Imperial. As a newborn thing, despite being malformed and imperfect, he slaughtered his father and fled before his mother's wrath...." Connor watched Brooks fascinated. The priest certainly spoke with languid conviction. The older man was clearly very familiar with his topic. "Mankind was still in its infancy then. The first man had not even left Africa when Rakeb set upon their tribes. Those that he bit rose from their holes as the undead, or, as you might call them, vampires. Those that were raped and defiled became succubae, or incubi, because he did not discriminate for gender. Of his two breeds of children, one fed on death, the other on sin. Samohteht eventually caught up with her foul son and butchered him. As their progenitor the succubae were bound to Samohteht and derived all their power from her as the source. The undead were discarded and left to fend for themselves. Now, millennia later, for whatever reason, Samohteht is here in Sixville with hundreds of her children and I plan to end her time on Earth." "So Sean met a succubus and it began to feed on his soul?" Connor groaned. How could he be buying into this? Wasn't there another explanation for the radical transformation in his friend? "There are two types of succubae. The Common Succubus, who feeds on sex, the act itself. They're rather pathetic creatures. Sluts but not intrinsically evil." Connor caught himself nodding and stopped. "It's their cousins, the Royal Succubae, who we are dealing with here. Their mere presence in any place causes a psionic disruption in the atmosphere. Buried desires are drawn to the surface and prove almost irresistible." Brooks paused to take a sip of water. "With the numbers we are talking in Sixville, resistance would have been nigh on impossible." "Fred?" Justine whimpered from beneath the quilt. The priest rubbed his chin. So far he'd always thought of this stuff as academic, theoretical...and now he was acutely aware that he was dealing with people who had friends or lovers who were succubae victims. "If it is any comfort at all, they love to target the best souls, those pure and good. A man or woman committed to another wholeheartedly is exactly the sustenance they crave. Justine, if you have it in you, forgive your husband... for his love for you singled him out as prey...." Justine crumpled in on herself, retreating mentally again. Brooks sighed. Way to lay the blame, Noah. Maybe, in time... "Is there any hope that...I don't know ..." Connor asked softly. "Maybe, if we were facing one demon...I think all those in Sixville are lost to us, son." He tried to break it as gently as possible but it was never going to be received well. The policeman jumped up and stormed out of the motel room. +++++++++++++++++++++++ "How do you know all this?" Connor asked from the doorway. He sounded resigned. Brooks was relieved to see that the young man had returned. Some how he felt very attached to the other two. God had sent them to him, he was sure...their fates were linked. "There is so, so much we don't know. A dedicated branch of the Catholic Church has built everything we do know up over centuries. I've worked for them my whole adult life." Connor stepped into the room and sagged against the door as it closed behind him. His scepticism was gone. "How do we stop them?" "Think of Sixville as a nest, a hive. Somewhere out there is Samohteht....no, no..." He was getting flustered. It had just occurred to him that getting entangled with these two would just get them killed. Did he want companions for the road ahead for selfish reasons? He offered up a silent prayer for guidance. "Think of the demons as a Venus fly-trap. As a plant it can have many flowers feeding and devouring its prey, right?" Connor nodded though Brooks didn't really need an answer. "If you poison the root then the whole plant dies.... we've just never been able to locate the 'root' to a single spot before..." "But now we know its here! How do we kill this bitch?" "Its very simple, in theory." ++++++++++++++++ After a day holed up in the motel the plan had swung into action at arrival of a particularly tranquil twilight. Currently the trio were idling round calm moonlit surface of Sixville reservoir. Connor had stopped rowing minutes ago and was struggling to contain the urge to giggle hysterically. The priest was standing a little awkwardly and blessing the depths below them. "The evil queen takes a shower of holy water and fries to death? That's the plan? Are you serious?!" Brooks was about to reply when Justine interrupted. "Do I look like the Lady of Shalot? That painting? I love that one..." Connor wanted to cry. ++++++++++++++++ Just then sounds could be heard from the bank of the reservoir and the beams of flashlights could be made out. There was no mistaking it; teams of deputies from Sixville were spreading out around the body of water. "Fucking great!" "Hush, Connor. We best row ashore before they use us for target practice." Brooks commanded and Connor cursed again. "Calm yourself. I have every confidence that some opportunity for our salvation will become apparent very shortly." He assumed an enigmatic and beatific pose. Connor began to row, fatalistic and cold. Justine began to sing 'Banana Splits'. +++++++++++++++++++++ Our intrepid heroes were pulled from patrol vehicles and pushed up the drive of an overblown mansion. It looked as if some huge party were taking place. Marquees adorned the huge grounds and fairy lighting picked out pretty paths between them. Masked violinists strolled the lawn in harmonious choreography. Some early guests stood around making small talk or groping their neighbours. The lawmen and their captives ignored them as they marched up to a canopied terrace where it became clear that a young man was waiting for them. Connor recognised him as Isaiah Dobbs, the Sheriff's son. He shivered, his intestines coiling inside. That first meeting with him seemed so long ago. The boy was impeccably dressed in a frilly shirt and frock coat. He was the picture of devilish charm. "Stepmother." He magnanimously greeted Justine. "We've all been greatly concerned about you. We must never let you escape again." Evil glinted in his eyes. "You made some friends, how nice." He said, barely glancing their way. The impossibly handsome boy stepped towards Justine and signalled her guard to uncuff her. He bowed towards her and offered her a hand. "Care to dance?" Justine giggled and blushed but accepted the offer. "I haven't danced in a long time..." She breathed...her whole life had been a long time ago... Jerkily they began to move to the music. If Justine noticed that her bastard stepson had reached down her pants to fondle her ass she did not seem to mind. Connor stiffened and was about to voice his protest but a rifle butt to his ribs silenced him. Isaiah tore at Justine's shirt so her chest was exposed to the world. She giggled girlishly as he twirled her over the paving. Brooks couldn't help admiring Justine's body. Decades of imprisonment had not affect her light, willowy frame and her breasts would have made many younger women jealous. His cock twitched. Isaiah was visibly turned on, dancing with his father's much-wronged wife. He paused a mere second to extract his monstrous cock. It prodded against Justine's alabaster skin. She sighed loudly as the handsome boy began to kiss her graceful neck. Her long hand slipped to her crotch and proceeded to stroke herself. "Ha ha ha" Isaiah chuckled as he spun the serene Justine further onwards. "The crazy lady likes to dance." All the whirling and exertions had really gotten to the very out-of-practice woman. Once she must have been very graceful. She clung to Isaiah, breathless and panting. He dropped her to the paving as if she were trash and tucked himself away imperiously. She looked at him, hurt and confused, like a kicked puppy. The incubus waved a hand and Justine's guard hauled her to her sore feet. She made no move to cover her nakedness and the deputy felt no need to shield her dignity. Connor's heart broke for her as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "You've been granted an audience rather than a summary execution....oh well..." Isaiah announced with theatrical shrug before he led them through the North door to see what fate had in store for them. +++++++++++++++ The drapes were swept aside and an expansive ballroom opened out before them. Giant but light curtains hung from the ceiling and pillars, breaking up the space. Throngs of people turned to watch their undignified entrance. Connor glanced at Father Brooks. The older man was composed and stoic, seemingly impervious to the hungry stares of the crowd. Connor had never seen so many beautiful people. Their skin appeared to be in competition with hundreds of candles in terms of radiance. These visions of perfection were surrounded by groups of ordinary folk...the food, Connor thought wryly. He recognised some of the local deputies. His stomach turned as he realised that they were now slaves to their darkest desires. No aide would be forthcoming from that quarter. The air was scented lightly, it was unmissable but not cloying. It made Connor dizzy....out of nowhere he had a flash (phophetic?) of all these people enthusiastically engaged in an orgy of lust, a writhing and heavy mass of skin and sweat, indiscriminately fucking one another on the plush cushions that were piled on the floor. He felt his balls twitch against the fabric of his boxers...was it that easy to succumb to their vile wants? He swallowed hard and resolved to fight with all that he had. Whilst he had been 'distracted' he and his compatriots had been brought before a curtained dais. Isaiah was engaged in a hushed conversation with the most sensual woman Connor had ever seen. "Mother," Isaiah said, bowing again, "The unexpected entertainment for tonight...." He indicated Father Brooks and the others. "We caught them at the reservoir." Claudine did not even glance in the right direction. She seemed enamoured with her son. She stroked his hair and made a display of admiring how well his body fitted his outfit. Her wandering hand ran over his pecs and then downwards. Unashamedly, she began to grope his crotch. Isaiah feigned cool indifference but his breathing got shallower. Almost imperceptibly the atmosphere changed. All around the great space fingertips began to explore the bodies of their neighbours, lips found wrists or necks or earlobes and soft moans were emitted to mingle with the music. Connor could not pull his gaze away. The sight of two incredibly hot people playing together...it was enough to override the disgust he'd have normally felt...incest seemed absolutely natural when it came to these two. They belonged together. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. The boy had pulled down the straps of his mother's evening gown and was suckling on the abundant flesh of her tits. At the back of his mind Connor knew that he'd grown hard at the blatant display. Now that it had come to his attention he wished his hands were free to take hold of his swelling cock. The Girl with the Hematite Eyes Father Brooks retreated to a calm place in his mind. He'd long ago found methods of coping with own sexual desires. Her son's long fingers had slipped inside her skirt and were clearly evoking a powerful response. Her underwear fell about her ankles. ++++++++++++++++ Claudine pushed her child backwards, increasing the distance between them. "Stop...we can continue this later..." She gasped with obvious effort. "Aw, Mom..." Isaiah whined. Claudine smiled firmly then after a moment's thought licked his sticky hand clean. "Tonight, baby...I promise..." The boy sulked off into the crowd, into the welcoming arms of several horny sluts in the crush of bodies. Claudine, meanwhile, was alone on the dais and saying strange words under her breath...it seemed to be contrarily quiet yet loud enough to be heard in every corner of the room. Everyone gathered felt a collective shortness of breath, pressure behind his or her eyes. Some present struggled to remain standing, clinging to their neighbours. Brooks blinked. Was it a problem with his eyes? Bright spots of darkness seemed to be appearing all over the room, swarming fluidic and elegant around all the people, the braziers, the drapes... Father Brooks shivered...the hairs at the back of his neck had risen up. He had experienced a deep sense of malice when one of the black lights had circled his head. They were coalescing into a rippling pillar on the dais next to Claudine, who seemed unconcerned with the spectacle of it all. The shifting black was mesmerising and when one turned one's attention to it it seemed to emit a curious murmuring sound, an odd bubbly chattering. A breast emerged from the shimmering surface before sinking back down. Seconds later a larger and more succulent pair appeared, heavy and juicy. A human shape was becoming visible, the black substance fading, merging, being absorbed into the most faultless skin that has ever been seen...the woman that assembled herself before them could not be mistaken as a product of any natural means. She exuded sex and her body was screaming out to sin. Her little black dress left nothing to the imagination. Her wide hematite eyes flashed around the room. Samohteht (there could be not mistaking that it was her) paused and looked down. She smiled and lifted her left leg. As she removed Claudine's damp panties from her impossibly high stilettos everyone was treated to a fantastic view of her unending legs. The demons' queen started to walk towards Claudine and her prisoners. Even the way she walked ...every step flaunted her curves, every swaying motion was exquisite, breathtaking. "Ha ha Van Helsing, Jonathan Harker and Mina Murray, I presume?" Her voice wasn't heard so much as felt, like fresh linen, whispered and husky but perfectly articulated. Everyone stared at her full red lips. "Please to meet you, Your Majesty..." Justine said in all earnestness and added a little curtsey. She giggled too. "No, not Miss Murray...the lunatic Renfield perhaps?" Samohteht sneered dispassionately, arching an eyebrow. "I wouldn't know Madam, never having read Bram Stoker's Dracula." Father Brooks said quickly. She blinked just the once. The priest noticed nictitating membranes and shuddered. From the far corner of the room some one snorted. People, Samohteht included, turned in unison. Strapped to the Southern wall was a young girl, maybe in her early twenties. She was bald save a fringe that consisted of a trio of magenta ringlets. Despite her predicament she appeared unbowed. "Silence hexspitter! I see no reason for mirth in these proceedings." The goddess was angry yet each word seemed like the sweet nothings of one's true love. That voice could make anyone do anything. She studied Justine again. Again Noah Brooks could sense something reptilian in her gaze, something predatory. Justine squirmed in the arms of her captors and her face screwed up under the intensity of Samohteht's scrutiny. "The poor wronged wife...do your new friends know about your dreams?" She glanced at Brooks and Connor. "How every night you dream that the hospital staff use and abuse you? Taking it in turns to cum all over your face after they've defiled your ass? Hmm maybe you don't remember, you've buried yourself so deep, Justine...just fragments of mind..." Justine fell to her knees, her eyes clenched shut. She was whimpering but predominantly she was panting. Whatever the bitch was doing to Justine's head was arousing her against her will. "You do remember, though. You know that you finger your cunt and your ass when you can't get a porter or male nurse to satisfy you..." "No..."Justine gasped, shaking her head, flinging tears around her. "No...." The vision of perfection reached down and began to fondle one of Justine's exposed breasts. Justine's nipple hardened at the slightest touch. "Hard to read but not so hard to manipulate..." Justine was breathing harder and harder as Samohteht circled the nipple with a slender digit. "Stop what the fuck you're doing to her!!" Connor spat. He yanked free of his guard and lunged at the merciless demon. Justine was an innocent, irrational and vulnerable. He just wanted her to be safe. The police officer was tackled to the ground before he made it anywhere near the Queen. "Tsk tsk, Mr Murphy, surely you're not so eager for your turn?" She poured herself a goblet of wine and sipped from it elegantly. She looked around the room, noticing whose tits were being played, whose cocks or cunts. The sight seemed to please her. "Father Brooks you brought an abomination with you on your holy quest." She addressed to the priest without looking in his direction. She only had eyes for Connor now. "Our policeman is a fucking fagot. He's in such denial about his true sinful nature he drowns himself in pussy. So many girlfriends, Connor and you couldn't find one that pleased you, not one?" Connor was sobbing. She was in his head ...he could feel her thoughts worming around in there. "It's not true...it isn't." He cried, looking desperately at Father Brooks. The old man's opinion mattered. Father wouldn't approve, would detest him... "Admit it, you secretly know who it is that you want to fuck..." Connor clammed up with all the defiance he could muster. He curled up foetal and weak. Samohteht sniggered at his futile resistance. She beckoned at someone from the crowd. "You told yourself that you liked Shannon but isn't it true that you wanted you that shared his bed, wished it was you that received his love? It all seemed so unobtainable, didn't it? Sean was a good man, he was never going to leave his wife." She sunk down to lay next to the stricken man. She stroked his hair in a perverse maternal-like gesture. "You can have him, baby. Sean, how many people have you fucked since you came to Sixville?" Connor opened his eyes at the mention of his old partner. He swallowed hard. "Too many to remember, my lady." Sean replied. "I'll pretty much fuck anyone." He said proudly. "See baby, the one you love is an unrepentant sinner. Any love for Shannon is long gone, the same goes for his soul...." "No..." Connor croaked. He had hoped for some way to redeem his old friend...the man he loved....there seemed no point now...what was left to fight for? "You can have him, Connor. There's no morality here...no God...just omnipotent lust and desire. Give you soul to me. It's quite painless." She felt Connor's body let go of its defiance and she pushed him towards Donheeney. "Lick his boots, boy." Connor began to cry again. There was no fighting them, he'd fought for so long to repress his longings and they'd been exposed within minutes. He looked up at Sean. The older man gazed back neutrally, clearly too far-gone to care. "Lick my boots, you piece of shit." Connor hesitated then lowered his head. He'd never been so ashamed, so broken yet a part of him thrilled at being at Sean's feet. His stomach turned as his tongue made contact with leather. "Do a good job," Samohteht said, crouch low and feline next to Connor, "and maybe we'll reward by letting you swallow all of Sean's salty cum..." "Enough Samohteht! They should never been caught up in all of this, I was the one sent to kill you." Father Brooks yelled out. Sean Donheeney was dismissed as easily as he was summoned. He was rapidly re-assimilated into the citizens of Sixville. He didn't spare Connor a second glance. ++++++++++++++++++ Samohteht's eyes narrowed to slits before she shrugged and laughed. She looked at him brashly. He could see the weight of centuries in her eyes. "Did they ever tell you about Father Sollami?" Brooks shook his head briefly. He thought he could see where this was going. He prayed to God for strength. She walked behind him and folded her arms round his shoulders. The contact of her skin on his was electrifying. He had to force himself to continue breathing. "Sollami was barely out of the seminary, barely into maturity. He was favoured by God and blessed with visions of Mother Mary. No man rivalled his innocence and piety." Brooks found that the words were seeping into his consciousness despite his efforts not to listen. He shut his eyes. "Seriously, this boy was utterly without sin. Left alone maybe he'd have achieved sainthood...who knows? The Catholic Church selected him to join the long list of assassins who have failed to murder me." Her breath on his neck made him tremble...was he imagining it but it sounded as if her voice was shifting?...there were traces of his mother's voice, his sisters', Sister Mary, his first crush....it was impossible... "Sollami was a beautiful man, Father. I enjoyed turning him....but I'm getting ahead of myself... He found me in New Orleans, maybe thirty years ago. He was captured very easily. The Church must have known that he'd never succeed..." Noah nodded despite himself...he knew the Church sanctioned suicide missions. "I discovered that he was immune to my charms and those of my daughters. Truly his love of God could not be supplanted." A hand left his shoulder and slid round his torso, running over his strong pecs. Brooks' nipples hardened and he felt his balls twitch. He must hold out...he must hold out.... "Still, the boy was still flesh and bone. Mmmm his cock, Father...even tastier for its absolute purity.... I made it as hard as rock and cast over it. For months and months, there he was, feeling as if his balls were going to explode but never finding release. We used him to amuse ourselves. My children competed to be the one to break him. Mmmm, he was never going to be able to hold out forever....the Church was never going to mount a rescue." She shrugged, as if saying 'you do the math'. Samohteht's timbre was deepening. These were clearly very fond memories she was recounting. "The visions of Mary stopped and he began to say the most disgusting things, Father...so sick and depraved it was almost enough to make me blush....such dirty thoughts coming from such pretty lips. I sent my most beloved daughter Claudine to him and she undid his chains." Claudine took over the narrative then. "He was unhinged, his mind gone completely by then...his soul was so delicious...as he raped me, sodomised me, used me in my mouth, my cunt, I feasted on him. Think on it Father, a virgin priest driven to such perversions." Father Brooks quivered. That poor boy was thrown to the carrion feeders. "I was tempted to unleash him in a convent somewhere," Claudine said, "but he really was beautiful, curly black hair, olive skin and brown eyes...we use him to father more unholy children." She said with such relish. "And you, Noah, will you succeed where he failed? Will you be able to last as long?" +++++++++++++++++++++ Father Brooks inhaled Samohteht slight peppery scent. He swallowed hard. He knew what was at stake. "I am a just fallible man, succubus, but my love for the Lord, our God is unshakeable. His will shall enable me to prevail." Her fingers on his ear sent tingles down his spine. It was a touch so far removed from normal sensation that he felt weak at the knees. A caressing hand slipped lower and lower over his stomach. He had just enough time to glance at Connor before the hand was at his crotch. "Gah ah..." He cried, expelling air even though he sought to fight against the pleasure of her ministration. He shut his eyes as his cock hardened through the fabric of his pants. There was no freedom of self- control left now. He sensed Samohteht's smugness. Father Brooks could not resist her as she pulled him down onto the cushions. "Paster noster qui es in caelis..." He croaked even as her mouth touched his. "Hmmmm..." Brooks moaned as her tongue slipped past his unresisting lips. All conscious thought evaporated as her sweet saliva mingled with his own. He wiggled beneath her, enjoying the feel of her body on his chest, his groin...her fingers unbuttoning his shirt. The Queen rose up to admire his fit torso, rubbing her palms over his hairy pecs and nipples. She turned her eyes to his face, she gazed at him hungrily and Brooks shuddered, they were so inhuman yet so deep. "Paster noster qui es in caelis sanctificetur Nomen Tuum adveniat Regnum Tuum..." Brooks muttered, turning his face away from her. The sense of calm would not come...there were disquieting murmurs in his head...his mother telling him to succumb...his father telling him to be a man... "OH Noah, has your cock really gone unused all these years? Was there no really convent whore willing to sit upon it?" The demon Queen inquired, her hands at his burgeoning fly. Noah wanted to bat her away but his body was unresponsive, immobilised by her power. He wouldn't surrender, he wouldn't. His body may sin but his spirit would remain unsullied in its devotion to God. "fiat voluntas Tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie Et...ah nah no...dimitte nobis debita nostra..." Would the Father forgive his sins? Brooks was losing himself as his cock was liberated and swallowed by her warm and wet mouth. Her articulate tongue toyed with his pulsing head and circled the rim of his helmet. Even with his limited experience Brooks doubted that any blowjob had been more expertly employed in the history of mankind. All of his extremities tingled and twitched. He looked down to see all of his length disappear easily into that mouth. "sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris...." He whispered but the language wasn't just foreign and dead any longer...it made no sense...surely she wasn't sinning against him...nothing so good... "No...stop....I...ahhhh...." An image flashed into his mind; his white cum on those bright red lips. He wanted it. He wanted to cum on her face. He was close now....no...he was a man of the cloth...faithful...to his holy vows... With an almighty effort he heaved himself up the pillows and knocked the evil bitch from her place. He called upon God for the strength to finish the prayer, to remind himself of its power to fortify... "et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed...libera...nos...a...malo!" His arms were his again. He raised them as Samohteht pounced on him. The little black dress was gone now and they grappled together naked. The Queen was so powerful and lithe that Brooks could find no way to fend her off. The priest looked at his companions but no help was imminent from that quarter. His strength was almost gone, only a temporary reprieve, the effort to move had been too great and he kept getting distracted by his cock rubbing against her soft belly and enticing thighs. Samohteht smiled as she brought his hands to her giant tits. They were her great weapons. Just holding them bewitched the man under her. His hazel eyes were transfixed. "Go ahead, bury your head between them." He paused and complied with her command. "Ha ha ha...ah..." She groaned as the last of his willpower gave way and his virgin lips hurried to kiss every part of her tits, his tongue to lick one nipple then the next. God, it got her so damp.... She shoved him down on his back and sat on his face. Noah's shock didn't last long and soon he was drinking down the juice from her bare pussy. "This is your communion now, Father." She snarled, gyrating and grinding on his face. From the way his tongue plunged and lapped inside her so knew he was willing to be converted. In that dark and pungent place, Father Brooks could almost physically feel his old thoughts and beliefs fleeing from his sinful, lusting body...they would not be missed. Heaven was only to be found between his Queen's parted legs. "mm...." He groaned, wishing he could survive on her lubrication rather than air. He cupped her ass and pulled her more firmly onto his lips. She lent back, her hands resting on his chest. The priest was drinking in evil and she was siphoning off his soul as it was twisted and corrupted. He was truly hers now. "Yes, yes...mmmm...yeah...." She cried. All the eyes in the room were on her, worshipping her, and she soaked in the adoration from this atop this human altar. Rocking back and forth, and fingering her clit she took it all in. "Fucking hell...mmm..." She whimpered as she climaxed. It had been a long time since she had devoured on a soul as pure as this. Well fed and sated she came again and again. ++++++++++++++++ Eventually she lifted herself from the fallen holy man and was relieved to see he still lived. His flushed face was glistening with her fluids. She licked his cheeks clean. "What of your God, now?" "There is no God but you, mistress." Said with such eager earnestness and perverted desire burning in his eyes. He pushed her onto her back. As he rolled on top of her immaculate body and his cock was inserted into her tight cunt, he whispered to her, "Quoniam titi est regnum et potestas et Gloria in saecula...." She smiled, devilishly and wrapped her legs round his sweaty waist, her stiletto heels spurring into his thrusting ass and thighs. "You're a tight fucking cunt..." He growled. " You fucking bitch, you like it like this?" He grunted as he shafted her roughly. She watched his face, as he became a rutting beast over her. She saw a small crucifix hanging from his neck and sneered. That man was gone forever. His eloquent grunting was proof of that. Brooks could not believe that her cunt could make him feel this way. He'd be enslaved to it for the rest of his days...nothing could've made him happier than damnation. "Fucking slut...whore...gnnnnh....take it...take it...you like it like this don't you?" "Mmmm, priest....fuck me hard...." "Oh yeah...." Brooks shouted and he knew that he'd soon be cumming inside her . As if she read his mind Samohteht spoke, "I am not called the ' mother' for no purpose....ah...I am ever fertile...spill your seed in me and turn forever away from salvation....ah...." Brooks sped up his pace, to impregnate this bitch, to fully revel in his debasement... "anhhh....nnnnh....ahhhhhhh," He cried as his balls emptied load upon load of jism into her darkness. "Fuck....hoh...fuck...." He sighed breathlessly, minutes later. ++++++++++++++++++++ Samohteht looked down at her snatch, leaking Brook's creamy goo. She could feel life conceive inside her...and something else..... ++++++++++++++ She jerked up Brook's head. The fury and questioning in her expression needed no words. Brooks collapsed in her arms and sobbed unceaselessly. She flung him way. +++++++++++++++++ "Mother?" Claudine asked, concerned as her Queen looked about her frantically. Samohteht ignored her, pushed past her as she tottered from the raised platform. She grabbed Connor by the throat and picked him up with one hand. The Girl with the Hematite Eyes "What has the bastard done? How did he....? "Mother?" Someone in the congregation sputtered. The Queen dumped Connor at their feet. ++++++++++++ "Samohteht....I...." Brooks called. He looked up at the raging goddess. Black rents in her flesh marred her complexion now. Everyone shrank back from her. She focused momentarily and her tissues fused together again. "Sickness. He has infected me with a sickness." Samohteht howled. She began to walk towards Brooks, who was weeping into a cum-stained cushion. "But. That's impossible...." Claudine offered, trying to take the Queen's arm. Panicked muttering rippled through the crowd. "It's impossible." A black lesion appeared on Samohteht's cheek. Claudine sprung away from her Queen, a repulsed look upon her face. She began to back away from her 'mother'. Samohteht stopped and felt her cheek and looked down at her breasts, another mark was raised above her left nipple. "Aaaargh." She yelled furiously and dispersed into tornado of black malignancies. The cloud of darkness shot round the room, whipping round and over those present. Rage and pure hatred could be felt emanating from each piece of the swarm. Many of the ordinary humans in the room began to scramble for the door. Their demonic lords and ladies had no hope of controlling a mass exodus. Some of them actually joined the throng attempting escape. Samohteht's capricious children felt no actual love for her, of course. The noise of the swarm was horrible and grating mixed with hysterical shouting. Though his guards were only feet way Connor found that no one was watching him. He crawled over to Justine. He tried to speak but his throat was crushed. "Justine?" He croaked, getting it to work after the second attempt. "Yeah." She answered, clinging to his arm, then her eyes widened in fear. Something behind him... +++++++++++++++++ Samohteht had reformed. It was only a partial success. Black gashes streaked across her chest and legs. These wounds did not bleed, instead they crumbled, flaking dust upon the marble floor. Even her unmarked skin had a dull grey pallor. Her blonde hair was a knotted mess and had faded into almost colourlessness. "Claudine..." She cried, looking for her adjutant to assist her. +++++++++++++++ Claudine backed away further. No succubus ever got sick. It was unthinkable. She couldn't bear the thought of this ...creature...touching her with its diseased skin....her mother.... "No....don't come near me..." She shouted. Any loyalty she had for her Queen was overridden by her desire to stay healthy...beautiful.... The queen dragged herself towards the dais, towards Claudine and the naked priest. ++++++++++++++++ Connor noticed that the remaining demons were maintaining a wide margin from the source of their power. They had a uniform horrified/ uncertain expression on their faces. It was now. The time was now. He darted forward and onto the platform. Checking behind him to see Justine was following he tried to pull Brooks onto his feet. "No...Nooo!" Samohteht shrieked. Her lower jaw was gone, replaced by a chitinous mandible. It made her voice terrible and alien. She began to hobble faster towards those who had been the cause of this nightmare. She planned to rip their limbs from their bodies. Connor yanked the priest to his feet. "Come on. Come on!" He shouted, as Justine took his other side. "We've got to get out of here." "No...I can't leave her...." Brooks answered. One of the remaining demons, an incubus, passed out, knocking over a brazier onto a pile of cushions. It was soon ablaze, filling the hall with noxious fumes. There were more screams and more people joining the mad scramble for the doors out to the gardens. "Father?!" Justine yelled, tears filling her eyes. "Its my fault..." Brooks mumbled. He held his hand out towards Samohteht but didn't actively resist when Connor and Justine began to drag him towards the far end of the room. The Samohteht was dragging herself behind them, relentless. ++++++++++++++++++ "Hey, heroic types! Over here! Don't you fucking forget about me!" It was the girl strapped to the wall. Connor had completely forgotten her. God, they didn't have time for this. The North end of the room was completely on fire now. "Justine?" He said. He indicated that she should set the girl free. Then he changed his mind. "What are you doing here?" This was to the captive. You never knew, maybe this had been a kinky demon thing... "You what they say about curiosity and the cat? Well, it was an attempted banishment spell, that, nearly squished this pussy flat...I tried to get rid of 'em!" Nearby a curtain was set alight and Connor could feel the heat of it on his face. "Justine." Whilst the older woman freed the captive, Connor looked behind them. The fire had caught up with the crippled demon Queen. She had pulled herself to her feet using a stone pillar. Her skin rippled black like oil and her body was stretched and misshapen like a Giacometti ablaze. She had no semblance of humanity now, only her eyes remained and she returned his gaze. He was reflected in them. Connor looked away, disturbed by how silent the creature was, how calm. "Thank you. The name's Low, by the way. Now let's get the fuck outta here." "The way back through the house has got to be around here." Connor shouted. The noise of the flames was so loud and parts of the hall must have been falling down at the far end. It was hard to see and even harder to breath. Connor couldn't see Justine. He let go of Father Brooks, just for a second so he could look for her. ++++++++++++++ "Justine!" He cried. He coughed. The smoke was getting to his lungs and every movement hurt. "Low, where's Justine?" He wanted to get them all out unharmed. "I've got her. We leave now, or we're never going to." Low shouted. "Where's the door?" Just then there was a sound and a flash of light and a massive hole was smashed through a wall. It seemed as if all the air and smoke was being sucked out through it. It was impossible to breath but when Low waved frantically as Connor to head for the crude exit, he understood. Turning back to the priest he saw the man heading into the flames. His expression was calm as he was engulfed by the oncoming inferno. Brooks never made a sound. Horrified Connor stood there a moment, and then collecting himself, he, Justine and Low made it out into the open air. +++++++++++++++++++ The exact moment that the queen died all the succubae, all the incubae dropped where they were standing. All those milling about on the lawn, watching as the mayoral mansion burned slumped to the grass, comatose. All those in Sixville suffered the same fate. All over the globe, none were spared. ++++++++++++++++++ The exact moment that the queen died all the human victims began to wail like paid mourners. Rendered incapable of speech by the power of their grief. In Sixville, where the most of the populace were enslaved, the noise was indescribable. Connor couldn't believe what he was hearing at first, the volume was so loud and the sound so strange. He held on to Justine, unable to let go. Who was comforting whom as they staggered down the streets of this small town? ++++++++++++ Low found a pick up truck and pulled some pliers from the back. She smiles triumphantly. "Where are you going?" Connor asked her. "See ya later." Low replied happily. "Thanks for everything." Connor was stunned. It seemed so unfeasible that anyone could have escaped tonight without any trauma. He watched her disappear. ++++++++++++++++++ A man walked passed. He was only wearing pyjamas. His face was red with tears and he was crying loudly. A little girl was trailing after him, tugging at his pyjama pants. Connor guessed the man was her father...he was oblivious to her. Dozens of these 'zombies' were roaming the streets. Connor and Justine avoided them at first but soon realised that they were harmless. ++++++++++++++++ Down near Main Street they found a car crash into a storefront. The pair of them managed to pull the occupant out but they'd gotten there too late. She'd been a demon, anyway. Justine had spat on the kerb when she had realised. ++++++++++++++++++ They came across few survivors. Connor guessed, or rather, hoped that most of them were taking refuge in their homes...its not as if the emergency services were functioning. One woman had seen them from her car. She pulled over and assailed them with questions. Turns out her husband had woken up in the night, making the same racket as everyone else. They'd only been married two months. +++++++++++++++++++ Around dawn the first of the trucks arrived. They looked like military vehicles. Connor waved to them. At first he thought that they were all going to ignore him then one pulled to the side of the road. A tall, commanding man got out and walked towards them. "Hello. I'm General Thommen. I'm going to pass you over to Sergeant Isler here and he's going to take your names and that sort of thing." He said very authoritatively. "You're not American troops. What are you doing here?" Connor asked, refusing to budge or be handed over to the General's shadow. All down the street stretchers of people were being loaded onto the trucks. The operation was too prepared, too organized... "Are you Father Brook's back up?" Thommen looked surprised, then he relaxed. He got them to introduce themselves then offered them a ride to the command post. ++++++++++++++++= "We aren't back up, so much as Plan B. Brooks felt that he could resolve the situation with a little more finesse..." He shrugged his shoulders. "HIV virus blessed by the Pope, himself...undetectable." Connor looked at the man. He seemed so in control. He sipped his coffee as Sixville was emptied of its people. Thommen belonged to the Special Ops branch of the Swiss Guard, the same as Brooks. It seemed that they could act with impunity anywhere on the globe. "What will you tell people about what happened here?" Thommen scratched his chin and inspected a clipboard. "A natural gas leak." He answered levelly. The end. + (I've just finished and I'm sitting here in my room, well, cell, really. I should turn this in to Justine and Father di Pace but I can't. Trawling through it all again has left me with an uneasy feeling, something I can't put my finger on. When Justine comes I will have to plead for more time....) + (It's been three weeks since I've arrived in Rome and four days since I finished the job that I was assigned but still the unease grows. Justine and her friend di Pace are starting to worry about me. Their superiors distrust me, I think, that much I could read between the lines.) + (I have convinced Justine, who persuaded di Pace to let me have a look at the sleeping demons, only then can I truly put this behind me.) + (It has been days since we set off. We are all currently staying at some monastery, I have no idea where. I can tell you the Swiss Guard are all over the place and that something seems to be disturbing them.) + (They are awake! All of them! The five in the secure prison below this farmhouse and those thousands hidden away around the world! According to our hasty briefing, they all woke up simultaneously. The warden here assures me that we are quite safe but my faith is not strong. They pace their cells and wait, I know it! Di Pace has been recalled to a council of senior churchmen. Before he left he told me that he intended to recommend a death sentence for each any every one of ...them...let's hope that his voice can sway the others.... Curse them for not doing this straight away!) + They're all dead! The guards I mean. I recognised some of them from Sixville. I've never seen so much blood. I heard the gunfire from my room. I pulled my own gun and went out. By the time I got there it was too late. My only thought then was to get to the succubae and incubi below and to kill them. I was too late again. From a dark alcove I watched an intimidating blonde woman shouting in German and freeing the captive demons. I confess that I ran blindly through those labyrinthine passageways. When my courage returned I went to look for Justine. I'm weeping now and can barely see, though it is getting light. Justine is with them. She is their new fucking Queen! Her eyes... I realise now, now, when it's far too late and hopeless what it was that niggled at me! That night, years ago, Father Brooks began talking of them as a hive, but then he moved on to carnivorous plants. He was so close! So close that I am in pain right now. I don't know how I know this but ...when a queen dies, worker bees make special queen cells. This royal jelly is fed to larval queens and a new queen is born. The whole of Sixville was a goddamn hive and all the corruption and sin was fucking demon queen jelly! Justine was goddamn succubae all along and we never knew it. Shit. Shit. Shit. Justine was heir apparent. I've never been so scared in my life. I'm down some sort of ruined cellar but I know it won't do any good. They are searching for me. Even if they don't kill me when they find me my soul is going to hell. My cock is twitching at the threat/promise of their flavour. David... I've just prayed to a God I don't believe in, for the strength to kill myself before that happens. Ha. Bitter much.... I hope this and the rest of the Sixville stuff makes it back to di Pace or to the Church. I am going to hide it here and make a run for it. They must know what happened here!)