Chapter V
Cassandra
The ground bites my knees as a sweltering heat ripples against my skin. Immediate claustrophobia blooms in the warmth, thick and stifling, as the heat draws each breath from my lungs.
I’m left gasping, staring at the stone ground as my vision readjusts to new surroundings. The panic from the heat fades. Something sharper and hotter surges in its place—rage.
“God damn it,” I gasp out. “God damn…everything.”
Peace never finds someone like me. Life will always be cruel and unfair, and an impossible choice stands before me.
I slap the searing ground, shrieking as tear-laced sweat drips from my forehead.
Maybe I’m dreaming. Cursed, trapped in some nightmare.
But perhaps the monster has taken me. If what is happening is real, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Clayton will never believe me when I find my way back home. He will hit me, call me a whore, and force himself on me.
Or, I could stay here, if this isn’t a dream. I did call out for someone to take me away.
The fury dissipates as quickly as it came, leaving only the familiar weight of exhaustion and defeat that accompany my most common bedfellow––lack of control, of choices, of being anywhere other than backed into a corner. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
At least if I were to return home I would know what to expect.
Clenching a fist, I reluctantly push myself up to kneel, wincing from the cuts that lace my knees.
Existing has always felt like a punishment. What had I done in a past life to deserve this fate? If I were braver, though, I wouldn’t be here at all. I would end my life permanently.
I don’t notice the bonfire until I’m on my knees. My eyes widen as I take in the room, where flames explode in every direction, a blazing, infernal cage that traps me inside.
It takes a moment for my brain to understand what my eyes are seeing.
Bodies convulse in a vulgar dance, moving to a silent, drumming beat—demons with glistening red skin, twisting horns, and devilish tails, tangled with naked humans in a frenzy of limbs, and lust, and depraved abandon.
It feels like I’ve entered a demonic cult, and I now know that I’m not dreaming. The monster has taken me. The monster that haunts Rose Falls.
My mind could never imagine scenes so wicked, so sinful. The noises are too vivid. Skin slapping skin, moans laced with lust, desire whimpering as bodies move.
I want to look away.
But I can’t.
I’ve never seen anything like this before.
The smell of sweat and sex clings to my skin. My gaze wanders, lips parting as I watch six crimson-horned demons take a woman from behind, her face contorted in pleasure.
Heat courses through my body, yet I shiver as I watch the woman cry out, my quiet gasps vocalizing in time with each thrust that the demons give her. A strange thought crosses my mind. I want to be her.
All I have ever known of sex is pain. Clayton taught me that it is my duty to give, that a woman’s job is to make the man feel good. I didn’t know it could be like this, that I could find pleasure. That they could worship me.
My teeth nibble into my bottom lip as I watch bodies slip and slither around and into each other.
I have to be in hell. That is the only reasonable explanation.
Clayton has killed me like he always promised, and my punishment is an afterlife carved from flesh and sin. There is no love in a place like this. Only hunger, and these demons will consume my soul if I offer it to them. The choice is tempting.
My chest arches as I watch tails tease forbidden holes, circling the skin, building anticipation. My lust quells to disbelief and uncertainty. They can’t mean to…
My mouth drops open as two tails slide inside the woman’s puckered hole, penetrating, filling her. It looks like it should be painful. Still, her eyes roll back, telling me that it’s anything but agony.
Whips crack in time with the flames, the unholiness whispering in an attempt to persuade me to join them in depravity.
I want to get closer.
I shouldn’t get closer.
Clayton taught me not to want this, that a woman’s desire should not exist. Yet watching everyone so blissfully free, I wonder if it’s exactly what I want.
If I offer myself, if I take a taste of this devilish heaven, it would mean permitting the demons to do anything they like. It would mean that I could feel something other than pain.
I squirm as I watch, fascinated by the demons and the woman. Desperation claws at me and heat pools between my thighs in a ravenous ache I don’t understand.
Snake-like hisses ripple around me, pulling my focus away from their perverted performance.
Shock surprises me as I look around, my lips widening, my breathing turning to panting at what I see.
Demons approach from all sides, male and female, moving towards me like I am their prey, like they are ready to devour me alive.
My fingers dig into my flushed, sweat-slicked thighs as they advance with forked tongues flicking out to tease, taunt, tempt. My heartbeat pounds, in fear, but also anticipation.
My gaze falls to a demoness, tracing her naked body with my eyes. I shouldn’t be staring so openly, but I can’t help it. Look away, I tell myself.
The way she moves is hypnotic, slow and confident, her hips swaying with each step. Her body’s lush curves captivate me. The fullness of her breasts entices me. She’s a goddess. A debauched goddess, but a goddess all the same. I want her. The thought comes out in a whisper.
My mouth dries as hunger flickers behind her gaze; it’s as if my body has the same seducing effect on her.
She reaches for me, and then all their hands are touching me, marking me.
They explore, leaving a trail of burning sensation as they caress, rub, grip. My eyes flutter shut, enjoying how each touch sets my body alight with pleasure.
The demons shift from using their hands to ravaging me with their tongues. They’re unafraid to lick, nibble and suck against my most sensitive parts.
My core throbs, becoming unbearable, so I rub my hands along my thighs, trying to relieve the ache, my desperate cries growing louder and louder as I writhe under their attention.
This feeling—I have never experienced anything like it before, and I want to cry from relief and joy.
The demoness comes up behind me, her breasts pushing against my back. I groan again at the thought of someone so beautiful spoiling me with attention.
My body chases the desire it craves, and I fall into her embrace, my head swimming, inebriated with lust. She’s beautiful, her long, silky hair as dark as night, skin cherry-red.
Her eyes are a deeper shade of crimson than her complexion, and I stare up into them, wondering if she would keep me if I asked.
Soft hands roam, palming and squeezing my breasts before sharp fingers catch my nipples, pinching until a squeal and a moan escape in the same breath.
Never have I been touched like this before, and I’m afraid that I’ll become addicted, craving to explore this new world of sexual gratification.
But there is no room for any more thinking.
Not when kisses scorch my neck and up my jaw before slowing, as if to give me the chance to decide. They trail toward the side of my lips. I tilt my head, giving in to desire, and my mouth catches hers—soft and sweet. Drunk heat winds through my veins.
Her tongue probes the seam of my lips and I open unashamedly.
We connect through shared breath with each deep, consuming kiss.
My head swims, pulse quickening. Her fingers continue to roam the flesh of my breasts.
I hesitate before reaching out to run my own hands along her skin with feather-like touch. As my lust grows, so does my boldness.
I pant and groan, reveling in the feeling of her lips moving mercilessly against mine, tongue licking across my teeth and dipping into my mouth.
Gasping, I pull away, instantly mourning the loss of her touch but needing to find my breath. I try to blink through the intoxicating haze.
I sway in euphoric dizziness before I sense a heavy darkness crawling over my skin.
The ecstasy curdles, twisting into something sharp, wrong, the sweetness fading as it sours.
Everything in my body freezes as I look across the room, searching for the source of this twisted uneasiness. And then, there he is. Watching me, ruby-red eyes glistening, teeth ready to consume.
I can’t seem to look away, stuck in his thrall as the demons—his demons––play with my body. He is the wicked god of this depraved playground, and we are his subjects.
He forces my gaze to remain on his, and a deep, guttural groan fills my throat. Despite gaping at his decaying, corpse-like face, my pleasure climbs higher.
The burning ache in my core takes over, pushing me to unravel at a disturbing speed while terror thrums around me, unrelenting. They drag me in both directions at once.
His parasitic attention claws into my thoughts, allowing him to share every pulse of my release. I shudder, neck jerking, skin crawling.
“Oh, God,” I sob on a stuttering breath. Something unhinged flashes in his eyes—madness, burning and wild just for me.
My own eyes flutter shut, only to jerk open at a sudden whoosh of movement, the displaced air whipping my hair across my brow. He flies towards me at a rapid speed, snapping his teeth like a rabid beast with his hands outstretched, ready to take me for himself.