Deviation Actions
Description
I cannot praise Nathan's work enough. Versatile and definitely non-flaky.
When Scott had walked out of her view she closed the door, shutting out the 21st Century as her home existed in the 20th. She made a point of never traveling door to door in the same time, always emerging some distance away and completing the journey by a conventional means. It was just good fieldcraft in always assuming she had a tail, but despite that a powerful demon had lain in wait and she had failed to see or sense its presence until it had struck. She had never failed to recognise a demon in any form before now.
Was this attempt on her life connected in some way to her recent activity?
Turning away from the street door she froze momentarily as a magical ward warned her that an entity had just entered, and now the stench of brimstone and male pheromones reached her.
She removed the scarf and held it casually, just a piece of woven silver silk for the time being.
It awaited her in the living room, but as she approached, the light from the rooms electric light was suddenly extinguished, leaving the room lit only by the coal fires dying flames. Inside the room, the dead light bulb swung gently to-and-fro on its ceiling cord and she peering at it from the hallway, pretending to be unaware, for the moment, of a presence beyond the threshold.
The intruder was in hound form, eight times larger than the biggest mastiff, a massive monstrosity, very blatantly male and its grossly muscled frame was occupying half the room.
The hallway light illuminated her from behind and she deliberately stayed there, a few paces inside the room, where it silhouetted her body through the thin cotton shirt. A beautiful, vulnerable female, quite unthreatening and ripe for the taking.
“Who are you and why are you here?” she enquired, “to kill me or to…?”
Undoing the shirt button, Fae let the garment fall open so that it could gain a tantalising glimpse of her body, and having baited the trap, she now held the scarf out of sight whereupon it transformed into the dagger.
“One must confess that demons are a little like Chinese food, I had one of you not an hour ago and I am hungry again.”
Her posture was wanton and she licked her lips in a manner that belied the cold, killing mood, that really beheld her. The dagger would first hamstring it to ensure no rape took place and to restore it to its classic demonic appearance, at that point she would harvest the beast’s powers on her own terms, cowgirling it to the point of ecstasy whereupon the dagger would be driven into its heart.
Red eyes appeared out of the darkness as it focussed on her, they glowed malevolently in not one but three heads.
When it spoke its tone held no hate. The three heads moved independently but the mouths spoke as one, dripping foul smelling drool as it did so.
“They almost had you tonight, girl.”
She hid her surprise but did not relax one iota. This great hound might be the beast that her father had been transformed into, but she harboured no illusions that it held any paternal affection for her. On their first, and only previous encounter, Cerberus had tried to kill her.
“It has been what, a hundred thousand years?” she took a step back towards the narrow doorway through which the hell-hound could not fit “People will begin to talk.”
It chuckled at the sarcastic humour but the sound that issued from the throats was anything but comical to the ear.
The brickwork and frame of the doorway would only serve to slow its charge but that would give her a second or two in which to escape. “What brings you here now, an errand for Satan or for ones dear mother?”
“A squaring of accounts… you think I like this form?”
He had once been the most handsome of the Devil’s disciples.
She did not reply, waiting poised with the options of fight or flight in equal balance.
“You were also born bearing my brand upon your rather attractive ass and whether you choose to believe it or not, that counts for something,” it growled.
Many a sire has consumed its young though and so she remained cautious, especially given the circumstances of their last encounter.
“Your time slipping and meddling in their designs for this world have become bothersome, daughter,” it explained. “They intend to make you as your mother, a slut to do the devil’s bidding instead of opposing it, a corrupter of men and women as well as breeding stock for the time of Hölle auf Erden.”
“If you mean by causing a world war then you are mistaken, almost seventy years on the world still turns, imperfect but hardly Hell on Earth.”
“You think they do not know that?”
She did not respond, knowing it had more to tell.
“What came for you tonight was a Shadow, one of The Seven, sired through Lilith. You did not see or sense its presence, did you?”
“I thought The Seven were nothing more than a legend?”
“Most believe that fairy tales are simply that, but all have some grounding in truth… the seven Shadows were created, one for each hell, and have wandered independently between time and both worlds causing mayhem, but Lilith has united them with the task of turning you, so beware the next pretty face, male or female, you take to your bed or your inherited predilection for frequent fornication with strangers may yet be the end of you, girl.”