TheCorsair
Pēdicãbo ego võs et irrumäbo
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2013
Jeorom laughed, at the look of blank incomprehension and horror in Lily’s eyes and at the surge of power flowing through his veins. He drank again, consuming the last drops of er blood, charged with her shamecand violation and prayers and fused with the last energies of the long dead god. His laughter grew wilder as he threw out his arms. “Yes!” he exulted, basking in the web of power that suffused the room.
Two decades of work and struggle coming to fruition, finally. Two decades since Matthias had torn his soul free, since he’d begin his bargaining and hunting to find a new demon and a new source of strength. He breathed in, drinking power from the air, revealing in the feeling. He would be more, far more, than he had ever been. Powerful. Powerful enough to take his revenge on Matthias. On Aurianna. On that little bitch Clara and the whole Order. On Afodesia Herself.
The other demons shifted impatiently, looking at one another. “Hey, pass the skull,” one demanded. “We all get a share.”
Jeoram smiled, revealing fangs. “Oh, yes. All of you will share in my power.” And then he lunged, gripping the speaker by his scales, tumerous thriat. The demon had time to scream once before Jeoram’s fangs ripped open his neck, before the fallen Paladin gulped down black blood as it gushed over his face and chest.
The others stared, stunned, as Jeoram let the withered husk drop to the ground. “Who wants to share next?” he laughed, turning. One hand rose, scattering thick drops of black blood, and barriers of dark light sealed the exits. And then he lunged to the attack.
The demons fought, unleashing their hatred and fury in a desperate struggle for surviva. Jeoram moved among them like an avatar of death, tearing hearts from chests, opening throats, crushing bones. Soon, only Jeoram and the monstrous Ahmoet remained alive in the abattoir of a room. “You think you can best me, Jeoram?” the demon laughed, his words sounding hollow.
Jeoram moves, ducking low and shattering the bull-demon’s knee. “Yes,” he replied, driving a clawed hand into the demon’s back. Ahmoet cried out, collapsing onto his hands and knees, then cried out again as Jeoram’s foot smashed him to the floor. Laughing madly, the fallen Paladin knelt behind him. “I’ve dreamed of this for years,” he kissed, driving his cock into the demon’s ass.
Ahmoet struggles, strained by to rise as Heoram pounded into him. Jeoram just laughed harder, gripping the bull-demon’s horns and smashing his face into the floor before jerking him back up. “At... at the end...” Jeoram snarled, “You were... my... my bitch...”. Then he climaxed with a cry, muscles straining. There was a sickly ripping sound and Ahmoet’s head tore free, drenching the room in a shower of gore.
Jeoram stood up, dripping with the clotting I hit of thirteen demons, seed still dripping from a semi-hard shaft. “And now for you, bitch,” he growled, turning to face Lily. He took a step forward. “I’m going to break you, whore. You think it was bad befor? I’m going to hurt you, and I’m going to make you love it.” Suddenly he was across the room, hefting the Paladin by her throat and slamming her hard into the wall.
“You’re going to beg me to hurt you,” he snarled, raking his claws across her breasts. His fangs followed suit, and he drank deep of the blood that welled up. “And then, I’ll let your mother see I... I live... what’s left... of... I live... of you.”
The iron grip faltered, letting Lily slip to the floor. Jeoram staggered, raising his hands to his head, then snarled and grabbed Lily again. “So... so she can... can see... what will... will happen... to... to her...”. His free hand forced Lily’s thighs apart, spreading her for him. But then he gasped and stumbled away, letting her fall as he gripped his head once more. “What... what’s... nothing. Why... what... fool. Did you think to use me?”
“No!” Jeoram’s words were a despairing shriek. “No! Yo... you’re dead! This is my power! My triumph!” He fell to his knees and collapsed, screaming in agony as he writhed. “It’s not fair! You’re dead!”
The screaming suddenly stopped. Jeoram lay still, motionless on the corpse strewn floor. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet and examined his own hands. Fingers flexed curiously, as if they were unfamiliar. “Dead? I think not.”
He smiled, and then He spoke a Word. As the syllables echoed, the world seemed to collapse inwards.
Two decades of work and struggle coming to fruition, finally. Two decades since Matthias had torn his soul free, since he’d begin his bargaining and hunting to find a new demon and a new source of strength. He breathed in, drinking power from the air, revealing in the feeling. He would be more, far more, than he had ever been. Powerful. Powerful enough to take his revenge on Matthias. On Aurianna. On that little bitch Clara and the whole Order. On Afodesia Herself.
The other demons shifted impatiently, looking at one another. “Hey, pass the skull,” one demanded. “We all get a share.”
Jeoram smiled, revealing fangs. “Oh, yes. All of you will share in my power.” And then he lunged, gripping the speaker by his scales, tumerous thriat. The demon had time to scream once before Jeoram’s fangs ripped open his neck, before the fallen Paladin gulped down black blood as it gushed over his face and chest.
The others stared, stunned, as Jeoram let the withered husk drop to the ground. “Who wants to share next?” he laughed, turning. One hand rose, scattering thick drops of black blood, and barriers of dark light sealed the exits. And then he lunged to the attack.
The demons fought, unleashing their hatred and fury in a desperate struggle for surviva. Jeoram moved among them like an avatar of death, tearing hearts from chests, opening throats, crushing bones. Soon, only Jeoram and the monstrous Ahmoet remained alive in the abattoir of a room. “You think you can best me, Jeoram?” the demon laughed, his words sounding hollow.
Jeoram moves, ducking low and shattering the bull-demon’s knee. “Yes,” he replied, driving a clawed hand into the demon’s back. Ahmoet cried out, collapsing onto his hands and knees, then cried out again as Jeoram’s foot smashed him to the floor. Laughing madly, the fallen Paladin knelt behind him. “I’ve dreamed of this for years,” he kissed, driving his cock into the demon’s ass.
Ahmoet struggles, strained by to rise as Heoram pounded into him. Jeoram just laughed harder, gripping the bull-demon’s horns and smashing his face into the floor before jerking him back up. “At... at the end...” Jeoram snarled, “You were... my... my bitch...”. Then he climaxed with a cry, muscles straining. There was a sickly ripping sound and Ahmoet’s head tore free, drenching the room in a shower of gore.
Jeoram stood up, dripping with the clotting I hit of thirteen demons, seed still dripping from a semi-hard shaft. “And now for you, bitch,” he growled, turning to face Lily. He took a step forward. “I’m going to break you, whore. You think it was bad befor? I’m going to hurt you, and I’m going to make you love it.” Suddenly he was across the room, hefting the Paladin by her throat and slamming her hard into the wall.
“You’re going to beg me to hurt you,” he snarled, raking his claws across her breasts. His fangs followed suit, and he drank deep of the blood that welled up. “And then, I’ll let your mother see I... I live... what’s left... of... I live... of you.”
The iron grip faltered, letting Lily slip to the floor. Jeoram staggered, raising his hands to his head, then snarled and grabbed Lily again. “So... so she can... can see... what will... will happen... to... to her...”. His free hand forced Lily’s thighs apart, spreading her for him. But then he gasped and stumbled away, letting her fall as he gripped his head once more. “What... what’s... nothing. Why... what... fool. Did you think to use me?”
“No!” Jeoram’s words were a despairing shriek. “No! Yo... you’re dead! This is my power! My triumph!” He fell to his knees and collapsed, screaming in agony as he writhed. “It’s not fair! You’re dead!”
The screaming suddenly stopped. Jeoram lay still, motionless on the corpse strewn floor. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet and examined his own hands. Fingers flexed curiously, as if they were unfamiliar. “Dead? I think not.”
He smiled, and then He spoke a Word. As the syllables echoed, the world seemed to collapse inwards.