Chapter XIV - Out for Blood

by nevermind

Tags: #cw:noncon #f/f #masturbation #multiple_partners #pov:bottom #sub:female #urban_fantasy #college #corruption #demon #horror #magic #mystery #police #possession
See spoiler tags : #cw:gore #body_modification #cw:blood #cw:death #ego_death #happy_slaves #turned_evil
(Some Content Warning tags are spoilered. Click to show them) #cw:gore

“So yeah, we... fucked,” Jordan stammered, struggling to get the words out. This was surprisingly hard. Not because she was prude, or ashamed to admit that she was gay. She was an adult. She was allowed to be sexual, and sleep with whoever the fuck she liked.

No. What was hard—the thing that hurt, was remembering Sam. Remembering how she’d felt about her.

“Yeah,” she continued. “that same evening, in our dorm. We had only just met. And... fuck... I was in love. Completely, head-over-heels. There was this impossible magnetism between us. In hindsight, I guess... it was all just our...”

It still felt absurd to say.

“...our demonic blood. But it felt real. I wanted to be with her, be close to her, be with her forever. The idea was wonderful. Irresistible. I felt this great sense of...”

Her breath caught for a moment.

“Excitement, and... purpose and... connectedness... and it was just... ohfuckhandhandhand!!!”

Brother Felipe’s hand grasped hers and a painful shower of ice washed through her, and her mind cleared again. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a deep sigh.


“I think it’s getting worse—and not just because of the sense-memory I get from thinking back. Even factoring that in, I feel like it’s growing stronger.”

Sister Jeanne looked at her thoughtfully. It was hard to tell what the woman was thinking. She was a tall, wiry woman. She looked like she could be leading a women’s gymnastics team in the late 90s. Forty-something, blonde, tight bun. Jordan wondered if any of these people had a life outside of the Order, or if they’d ever had one.

“Do you think it will be a problem?”

“Probably not. And if you have handcuffs or chains, definitely not. I think Lilith’s flesh-servants might be strong enough to break out of that if you try to restrain them like that, but I’m not. Hell, a couple of cable-ties would probably be enough.”

“Do you think you’ll become so saturated with blood lust that we won’t be able to cleanse you?” Jeanne asked, one eyebrow raised high.

“No. Not for a while, if ever. Just because I’m considering the worst case scenario doesn’t mean I think it’s likely. Just saying that even if it comes to the worst case, you should be able to handle me without, you know… killing me.”

“Thank you for your candor.”

“No time for bullshit.”

“Quite,” Sister Jeanne said. She gave her a nod, but her expression remained serious, almost annoyed. She must not like swearing.

Maybe she thinks its a sign of my demonic nature, Jordan thought with a grim sense of amusement. “Anyway,” she continued, “as I was saying before my blood freaked out: Connectedness. I briefly met Mina Park the same night, feeling the same thing. But the... attraction... wasn’t strong enough to pull us together that time. She’s a cop, and.. let’s say I have a natural distrust and suspicion whenever I’m talking to someone that wears a badge.”

“Why? Have you committed a crime?” Jean asked.

Jordan snorted.

“Lady, have you watched the news anytime over the last five-hundred years? I’m black!”

Jean blinked, and Jordan could see it click. Fucking ridiculous. Whatever. Now wasn’t the time for this discussion. They were meaning well. They were trying to help her. Sorta. Kinda. Unless they couldn’t get that ritual to work. Then, they’d kill her.

“I apologize,” Jean said. There was a quip on Jordan’s lips. She swallowed it down.

“Apology accepted. Moving on: I met Mina Park, felt connected, but then Sam and I went home, and got to know each other in the biblical sense. Next morning, she was gone. The next time I...”

She choked. She didn’t know if she was able to take the next part.

No. She had to. This had to be written down. Every detail could make the difference between life and death the next time it happened.

“Next time I saw her, I was deeply under the influence of the blood. When I’m under, I feel like there’s a red fog between me and the world. Metaphorically red, not literally. Rage and lust and heat and all that. It’s like I’ve let go of the steering wheel, but I’m still in the car with the windows fogged up, and the car is magically driving where it needs to go. I’m not in control, but I don’t care, because wherever it goes, I want it to go. Everything feels correct.”

Jean was writing down frantically. It looked like she was using shorthand, and she hadn’t asked Jordan to slow down once.

“I walked to that medical practice, feeling so fucking good. It all felt so good. And when I got there, Sam was already there. She was just as deeply under the influence as I was. Mina... Mina was already a flesh-servant. Her presence felt different. She was no longer who she had been, but her mind was clear and sharp. She had a Gift with her.”

“Gift?” Jean interrupted.

“That’s what they call the centipede demons. The Mother’s Gifts. Oh! Also: It was always the Mother, or Mistress in my mind, never Lilith. It might not be the name she uses for herself.”

“Interesting. Continue.”

Jordan swallowed. You can do this. Just the facts. Get it over with.

“Sam was naked,” she said, speaking quickly, trying to get the words out in the same way you walked over hot coals. Don’t touch them too long or they will burn you. “The gift crawled toward her, and the blood resonance made her open her legs for it. It crawled in her vagina, and ripped her bloody until it was all the way in, and I think she was in pain at first, but then...”

She tripped on the memory. Of that first scream of pain, and then, that second scream...

It had felt so good, watching it. It had been correct. It had been wonderful.

“... but then it turned into pleasure. It was inside her, corrupting her...”

Correcting her, freeing her, making her serve

“...she screamed so much, but it was all pleasure... Yes! It killed her and consumed her worthless soul! And what remained of her refused to truly die, and she was reborn! Yes! Flesh-servant! Herald of the Mother! Willing flesh, made to—”

A wave of blinding pain slammed through her, and she screamed in agony.

A short eternity later, the world around her returned, and she wasn’t in the sanctum anymore, but in a library basement. For a short moment, she was confused. Then, the memory of what had just happened returned to her like an aftershock, and she started crying.

Oh God Sam I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, she thought between heavy, rasping sobs. Her nose was running and she couldn’t breathe, and she sniffed it up hard, and it got in her throat, and she choked and coughed, and snot ran from her nose across her mouth, and her whole face was wet, and her eyes hurt, and she just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, back home, in her bed, where everything was alright, and all of this had just been a bad dream.

But she didn’t.

I’m so sorry, Sam

Sam felt amazing. The resonance of her Mistress’s power resonated through her like her favourite vibrator at her core. The blood-smeared floor seemed to radiate white-hot purpose and clarity. Mina was between her legs, affirming the all-consuming lust that owned them with her tongue, and Sam rode her face greedily.

Yes! Harder, she thought. Every time Mina sucked on her cunt, she could feel the squirming of the Gift in her womb. The creature inside her was no longer alive, of course—at least not as its own being. What had been its body was part of Sam’s body now. The thing that was squirming inside of her was her own dark core—the center of her corruption, where her demonic body produced its seed. She could feel it where it had cut through her flesh, through her womb, up to the spinal cord. It should have been fatal. In a very real sense it had been. But the demonic blood had healed her, made itself part of her. And now her body was partly demonic—a vessel that produced more of the Mother’s Gifts. Fuck yes!

Mina sucked on her clit, hard, and Sam moaned as the corruption inside her ached and throbbed. It was still seeping into her, shaping her, tainting her. She dragged her hands across her tits, feeling the pleasure in her pierced nipples, and already her fingernails had noticeably sharpened and hardened. She could feel the pain-turned-pleasure at the tips of her fingers, where they were pushing out of her nail beds, slowly thickening into claws.

It wouldn’t be too long before her body would no longer pass for human upon inspection. The thought made her shiver with pleasure. She didn’t want it to; she was no longer human. She was a flesh-servant. She now existed to hunt and kill and birth the Gifts to claim the souls of so many others. At least, that’s what she would exist for—if she wasn’t destined for even higher pleasure. Yes! She was so much more: She was the Mother’s Herald! The Constellation would come, and she would transcend even this magnificent purpose. Countless others would know the eternal pleasure of giving birth to the Mother’s seed over and over, but for Sam that experience would be singular. Soon, she would leave that existence behind to embody the Mother herself!

It was a privilege to experience both: to serve both as flesh-servant, long enough to experience the joy of giving birth to a Gift, and then ascend further and become part of Mistress’s being. The dark instinct at her core screamed in joy, and she pushed down into the burning pleasure, and deeper into Mina’s mouth. Soon she came, and as her body tipped over into orgasm, so did the world around her tip over. Her climax shook the fabric of the world in an unholy ritual, and rippled through the resonance of all things—and suddenly, she was no longer in someone’s living room. This was theirs now. An unholy sanctum. A lightning rod for the Mother’s power, violently nailed into this world by blood and pleasure. She gasped with joy, breathing in the thick air, falling back on the desecrated floor, moaning and panting and laughing with deep pleasure. She lived to serve her Mistress. Lived for this. Sex and violence and conquest, until everyone was like them, until every Soul had been eradicated, until the whole world lay at Her knees!

Brother Lars grunted. He clutched the Amulet of Jordan around his neck.

“What?” Muhammad asked.

“I’ve got it again. A spike. It’s still weak, but it’s definitely somewhere that way! Take this exit.”

Mina could feel the Seed in her womb squirm, and it was as good as getting fucked. She took a deep, delighted breath. She licked her lips, still tasting Sam’s pussy on them, and got to her feet. The sanctum was complete. She surveyed it with deep appreciation.

They had moved all the furniture to the wall to make room for the circles of blood on the floor. It was beautiful. Seeing the devastated room reminded her of the way the Mother’s gifts defiled the bodies of the people they claimed, carelessly and violently pushing everything aside, destroying everything that didn’t serve. They had done the same thing to a place.

She was looking down appreciatively at the beautiful form of Sam when she was startled by a sudden noise. An egg timer was ringing. Suddenly, there came a skittering noise from the kitchen, and the last of the Mother’s Gifts darted across the floor in a blur of black claws, scaling the counter, coiling around the small device like a clawed fist. Then came a sharp cracking noise as plastic shattered, and the ringing stopped.

“Cake!” Sam shouted, and sprang to her feet, visibly excited. She lightly skipped over Diane’s dead body and darted to the kitchen nook. Mina watched her nice little ass as Sam bent down and opened the oven, taking the hot grate out with her bare hands. Mina could see the block chocolate and candy sprinkles that Diane had prepared on the counter. On the stove, there was a double boiler ready. They would never get used, now.

“You want some?” Sam said, putting the grate with the steaming cake onto the counter. The Mother’s Gift skittered to the side, watching carefully, apparently intrigued by the radiating heat of the cake.

“Sure,” Mina said. Why the fuck not. There was nothing else they could do but wait now, and she was feeling hungry.

Sam was rubbing her hands together to brush off the crumbs, looking around, searching for something. After a moment, her eyes found what she was looking for on the living room floor, and she came back to pick up the bloody knife they had used to kill Diane.

“There we go,” she said, as she returned to the kitchen counter. She licked off the blood, then cut two big slices out of the cake. The room smelled even more intensely now, and Mina could smell the apple and almonds mixing with the sharp iron aroma of blood. She walked over, taking the slice that Sam offered her. She took a bite. It was scalding hot. It tasted amazing.

“Well done,” she called over her shoulder, at the body of Diane. Sam laughed. It was a musical sound. Bright like bells. The girl also took a bite, and let out a moan of appreciation. “Holy shit,” she said, her mouth still full. “Maybe we shouldn’t have killed her,” she said.

Before Mina could laugh at Sam’s joke, her lower body contracted, and for a second her vision went white with the wonderful pain of her squirming Seed. She could feel the Mother’s will surge in her blood, and heat enveloped her, filling her with a sense of urgent need and purpose, and heat coalesced in her womb, where the Seed was growing within her. When her vision returned, the look on Sam’s face had changed into evil pleasure.

“Your Seed,” she said. “Is it...?”

“Not yet. But soon,” Mina smiled. Yesss.

“Listen to that, little fella” Sam said, looking down at the Mother’s Gift that was still skittering across the counter top. “You’re going to have a little brother.”

Mina scoffed. “‘Brother’? Why not ’sister’?”

“It’s born to violently push itself into someone’s cunt. Sounds like a boy to me.” Sam said. Mina licked her lips. She wanted to fuck her again. Being with her was intoxicating. The two of them belonged to each other as much as they belonged to the Mother. They were her Heralds, now. Everything had become so clear, and so easy. There were no more fucking cases, no more fucking paperwork, no more fucking people she had to pretend to care about. Only their Mistress. Serving her was everything now. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted to stand hand in hand with Samantha Collins and watch Jordan at their feet as the Mother’s gift claimed the young woman’s soul—so that they could bring about the Constellation.

But instead of pulling Sam between her legs and celebrating how perfect they had become, she looked at the time. There was a clock next to the fridge. It read five minutes to four. “The daughter,” she said. Another kind of excitement billowed through her. An incomparable thrill. The thrill and anticipation of claiming another soul.

“Holy shit, I almost forgot about her,” Sam said, scarfing down the last bite of cake. She darted to the living room and closed the curtains. Mina turned off the lights in front, but left them on in the kitchen. Young Ellie mustn’t think that there isn’t anyone at home, after all. Her dear mother is waiting.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Brother Muhammad said. “Of all the suburbs in America, we get the one that isn’t laid out in a grid!”

They had arrived at another dead end. The suburb seemed to be regularly interrupted, and built around, numerous patches of woodland, and the roads ended and curved disorientingly. They had hit another cul-de-sac.

“We’re close now!” Lars said. “I’m sure of it! Behind this forest!”

He checked the map on his phone. If they’d had an address, the navigation would have led them there effortlessly. But just going by direction, the small screen was much worse than an actual paper map.

“Damn. We need to go all the way around!”

“Let’s just get out and walk through, then!” Mohammad said.

“The resonance is stronger than I had expected. They might have corrupted more souls. We might not be able to take them on. If we have to run, we’re going to need the car.”

Muhammed frowned, mumbling under his breath. Lars didn’t speak Farsi, but he could imagine what he was saying. After a moment of cursing, Muhammad put the car in Reverse.

“Fuck. Which way?”

Ellie Kowalski walked up the driveway, and through the gap between the garage and the house, circling around to the back door. She tried to catch a peek inside, but she couldn’t see Mom in the kitchen. But even outside, she could faintly smell apple and almonds.

Apple chocolate cake with sprinkles. Mom had made her one every birthday—ever since Ellie had asked for one when she’d been... eight? She couldn’t remember exactly. She still adored the taste, but now she enjoyed the tradition of it even more—especially this year, after so much of her life had been changed. It was her first birthday since she’d moved out.

As she turned the key, she felt a sudden rush of nostalgia, and realized that this was the first time she’d come here and hadn’t thought of it as ‘coming home’. Instead, she was visiting her mother. It was a bittersweet emotion that made her feel very grown-up and strangely lost at the same time. She opened the door, expecting Mom’s voice to call from upstairs any second now, or to see her come around the corner, extending her arms.

Instead, she saw a strange naked woman, smeared with blood.

Her blood ran cold. The world stopped. She reached for her purse. Then, she saw movement from the corner of her eye, and something grabbed her and pushed her forward further into the kitchen, and she nearly lost her balance. The door slammed shut behind her, and she finally broke through the shock, and screamed.

Something closed over her mouth, shockingly strong and violent, and yanked her head back. It took her a heartbeat to realize that it was someone’s hand, forcing a kitchen towel into her mouth. She tried to close her lips, but she wasn’t quick enough, and she gagged as the piece of cloth cut off her screams, and she nearly choked.

It was all happening too quickly to comprehend. Her heart was racing as her attacker kneed her in the legs, making her knees buckle, and she felt herself fall, and being caught, then twisted and dragged around the room before she knew it.

No! This can’t be happening! she thought, as she was thrown to the floor, onto the living room carpet, and a knee landed on her back. The carpet beneath her was wet. The living room was dark. Someone had drawn the curtains. There was something lying there next to her.

She twisted her head to see what it was—and looked into the pain-stricken grimace of her dead mother.

Her scream shredded her throat even as it died in the bunched-up fabric in her mouth. NOOOOOOO!!! She closed her eyes to make the impossible image disappear. Just as she did, she felt something pull off her shoes, then her socks, then her pants and panties.

No. No! NO!!!

They caught around her ankles, and she felt them twist painfully as they came off.

No!!! Don’t!!! This isn’t happening!!!

She was trying to kick out, and felt her feet connect with bare flesh as someone approached her from behind, kneeling down close to her. She kicked out again, but whoever was behind her was too close now, and her legs were pushed to the side, wedged apart by the body of the person. Her screams never stopped, and her muffled sounds of terror and agony fought to carry across the air, outside, where someone would hear her, and stop this.

When she heard the skittering, her screams did stop, and she froze in terror.

Oh God, she thought, and something impossibly deep inside of her seemed to awaken. Some primal, animal instinct that told her to hide in a cave and not to move, because whatever she had just heard was going to kill her and eat her. Something with too many legs, because she knew that that was what she had heard. Insect legs—but on something too big to be an insect.

She held still, shivering. Tears streamed down her face. Somehow deep down, she knew that there was nothing that anyone could do to her that was worse than whatever that skittering thing would do. The terror in her chest had taken on a cold, hard clarity.

Please just rape me she thought desperately, and part of her screamed at herself for being able to conceive of that terrible thought. “Just don’t kill me. Just keep that thing away from me.” But the hellish noise didn’t stop. It got closer, before it suddenly grew much, much quieter. But she could feel the vibration of it in her feet and legs.

It’s on the carpet! she thought, and her mind was spinning violently.

“Yesss,” she heard a voice behind her. It was a young woman’s voice—a voice that might have sounded sweet if it weren’t filled with such absolute coldness. And from above her, she heard another more mature female voice echo. “Yesss!”

Before she could process this, pain exploded between her legs, and she was sure they had pushed a knife in there, and she screamed as her thoughts flew into an incoherent spiral. They’re killing me I’m going to die I don’t want to die please no please no oh god no please this can’t be happening no no no no—

And then, the pain turned into the most mind-numbing pleasure she’d ever felt. It was almost worse. She moaned into the rag, stars dancing before her closed eyes, and she felt her lower body scream with cursed arousal as something inside her twisted and bent itself, and she felt a thousand pricks of terrible pleasure burrow into her, deeper and deeper. Too deeply. Far too deeply. She felt nauseous. It was inside her, and she could feel the wetness and the tearing as her flesh split apart.

And it felt so fucking good.

“Something’s happening,” Lars said.


“It didn’t get stronger, but it got... excited.”


“I don’t know how to describe it. It’s a different... taste, or smell, or whatever. Something’s going on. Step on it. We’re close!”

Ellie’s eyes flew open.

The first thing she saw was the lifeless face of Diane, whose body had served to create this sanctum. Her mother’s expression was frozen in shock and pain, skin pale and bloodless. For a short moment, Ellie looked at the dead woman with uncaring eyes. Then, she turned herself on her back to instead look at the Heralds of the one true Mother. Her new Mother. The one that owned her flesh. Her corrupted heart was beating rapidly, and her pussy squirmed when she saw the women that had killed her soul.

I’m yours! My flesh serves, she thought, and red-hot purpose arced through her like lightning.

“Yesss,” she hissed, allowing herself a moment to simply enjoy the endless pleasure between her legs, allowing herself to revel in the feeling of being completely Hers, allowing herself to bask in the knowledge of how utterly she had been corrupted. There was no more goodness in her. She felt nothing now but the burning desire to serve and claim the world in the name of the one who had claimed her.

“I am willing flesh,” she said, smiling wickedly, free from shame, free from her old pathetic self. Her pussy burned with devotion. She was so fucking lucky. To be chosen by the Mother’s Heralds, to help them ascend. To be willing flesh. To have been consumed by darkness and claimed.

The younger of the Heralds stretched out her hand, and Ellie took it, in awe of the corrupted beauty that radiated from those soulless emerald eyes. The Herald helped her to her feet, smiling with satisfaction and selfish satisfaction.

“Happy Birthday,” the Herald said, and Ellie laughed at the cruel irony of it. Yes. Everything she had been had died today.

No, not everything. Only the weak and useless parts.

Only her soul.

“Thank you, mistress,” she said.

“Sam,” said the younger one. “Mina,” said the older one, the one that looked Korean. Ellie’s mind glowed with awe and endless desire, and the darkness at her core immediately recognized the names as ones to worship and obey. It was good to know who she served. It was an honor to be in their presence, and a shameless thrill. These two women were destined to become Mistress’s vessel, and Ellie was as much theirs as she was Hers. Just to be with them already made her so fucking wet. She would gladly be their whore. She was just about to fall on her knees between Sam’s legs, when a sudden noise from outside drew all of their attention.

It had been the sound of a car stopping, of doors slamming, coming from outside, and Ellie suddenly felt a strange resonance at her core that wasn’t her Mistress. It was a lot like Her, but it tasted sour and dead. It was all wrong She took in a sharp breath, and she could hear Herald Mina hiss angrily.

“They’re here,” Mina said, and the wonderful darkness at Ellie’s core told her that they were being hunted. She pulled up her pants, thankful that they hadn’t completely undressed her. Mina and Sam didn’t bother putting on their clothes, instead hurriedly stuffing them inside a black duffle bag. Ellie wished to help, but she didn’t know how to. All she felt was impotent rage and frustration. She was filled with a sudden, all-consuming need to kill. It was intoxicating, but she didn’t know how to channel it.

Footsteps came from outside, and for a moment she considered opening the doors, and putting on an act, but something inside her screamed and she knew that they would be able to tell.

“Out back,” Mina whispered, and quickly they went after her as she opened the door to the back yard. Ellie was the last in line, and she wasn’t even out the door when she saw a true mountain of a man plunge forward at Sam and Katie, slicing the air with a huge scimitar. Sam had managed to dodge just in time, moving quicker than any woman with her build should be able to.

“Back here!” the man shouted—and a split second later Ellie could hear the front door being knocked in with the deafening sound of shattering wood behind her. Suddenly, her vision turned red—and the world slowed down around her as the Mother’s power resonated through her tainted blood. The backyard seemed to shrink away until there was only Ellie and her prey. The very air she breathed was nothing but the need to kill.

She sprang forward with hatred and murder in her heart, and even as she moved, she could feel her muscles strain and protest under their own unleashed power, her body not yet as fully corrupted as her blood and her heart were. Dark instinct propelled her through the red air at the attacker, her hands in front of her like claws, ready to push into his throat, to dig into his flesh and rip it out.

But he was fast. A sudden move later, and he was out of her trajectory, swinging the blade at her—and she barely managed to twist herself around enough to avoid it. Had he been ready to face her, she knew that he would have cut her clean in half. Next time she attacked, she would have no chance at all.

She felt something slip over her shoulder, and instinctively caught the handbag she was still wearing. The man’s swing had been so close that his sword had cut through the shoulder strap. She landed and rolled over the lawn, twisting herself around to face the threat, cradling the bag in one hand, and suddenly, there was something other than pure crimson rage and instinct in her mind. She opened the bag.

Lars crashed through the desecrated house like a wrecking ball. Magic flowed through his muscles and nerves like rip currents, sharpening him and empowering him. He saw one demonic servant nearly manage to catch Mohammad off-guard—but thankfully he was quick enough to almost turn it into a successful counter-strike. He hadn’t anticipated there being three of them. The demon rolled out of reach as the other two tried to strike—but Mohammad dodged out of the way, his movements graceful as a dancer, swinging his scimitar behind him as he twisted his body around, not allowing them to pounce after him without being cut. Lars drew his own sword as he stormed through the door into the back yard, and—

An ear-shattering noise and blinding, blunt pain hit him in the face like the punch of a champion boxer, and he recoiled, grunting. He could feel the magic of his protective spell buckle under the kinetic force.

No, you don’t, he thought, but another crashing thunder struck, and he could feel his neck snap back violently. His magic screamed under the force, but held strong.

Then another shot hit him, and another, and the shield around him wavered and cracked alarmingly, and he felt a sudden sense of panic grip him—and he moved to dodge out of the way before it could—

The next hit was violent enough to black out his vision, and for a moment he didn’t know what had happened, or where he was. When the blinding pain cleared, his heart skipped a beat, and he tried to—

Ellie’s racing mind—filled with her Mother’s power—saw the world in slow motion. Her blood roiled up, and for a moment she felt as if the Mother herself was guiding her hands to satiate the blood lust that owned her. Her arms bulged and strained, and when she pulled the trigger, she felt the muscle fibers ache and rip as they absorbed the recoil—but the gun in her hand remained as steady as if it was clamped into a vice.

She hit the man in the face—and saw reality ripple as the bullet was pulverized in thin air. She let off another shot as soon as the chamber had revolved into position. And another, and another. Two, three, four, five, shots in less than two seconds.

The sixth bullet went through.

The man’s face went slack, and a spray of red bloomed from the back of his head. A small hole had appeared on the side of his nose, just beneath his right eyeball.

He wasn’t thrown back. He didn’t scream. His head didn’t even recoil. He simply dropped straight down with not a moment of delay the moment she pulled the trigger, like a seven-foot broken doll. He was dead! A surge of dark pleasure and satisfaction rippled through Ellie as if she’d just been fucked really hard.

The other attacker screamed with rage, and for a moment he seemed paralyzed with it, his eyes wide, darting between his three attackers and his dead partner. In that moment, Sam struck. But even now, the man was too strong. He slashed at her with a wicked uppercut, and Sam screamed. Mina, meanwhile, had pounced at the fallen body and had ripped something from its neck. When she heard Sam’s scream, she spun around, and Ellie could see the fear and rage in her eyes. Quickly, Mina closed the distance to Sam, and caught her as the young Herald nearly collapsed. As Mina caught Sam, Ellie could see a deep gash across Sam’s chest, running from her belly button up all the way to her collarbone, black blood running out of her in a thick sheet, down her belly, and her legs.


Ellie made an inhuman sound of rage as Mina picked her up in a fireman’s hold, and the resonance in Ellie’s blood curdled and screamed. The brute was already striking again, and Mina and Sam were nearly defenseless.

Ellie’s feet didn’t even touch the ground until she hit him. Pain shot through her, exploding from her shoulder. She struck him, harder than she could have ever thought she could hit something, but not before he had been able to twist his sword around at her. The world seemed to ripple, and delicious agony rolled through her body as he cut into her.

She was much lighter than him, but her inhuman speed had been enough to give her enough momentum to slam him into the back of the house, sending him tripping over his comrade’s dead body, and through the back door. Ellie collapsed down onto the grass, springing immediately back on her feet, fully ready to die if it meant hurting or killing him.

But then, the throbbing rage of her Mother’s resonance changed in her, and she locked eyes with Mina, and she knew they were meant to run. She pitched her empty revolver in his direction as she started off, and she knew her throw would have been strong enough to break a normal man’s face. She didn’t see what it did to him, but she had no illusions that it would do more than slow him down by a second. But she had no spare bullets anyway, and one second might be the thing that made the difference.

Together, they ran around the house, across the street, into the forest. Ellie was looking behind herself, fully expecting him to burst out the front door like an angry steam train.

But he didn’t. He didn’t seem to chase after them at all. Ellie didn’t know why. But she didn’t care. She continued running, the pain in her shoulder keeping her from fully swinging her right arm, while giving her jolts of pleasure every time her feet hit the ground. As they ran through the small patch of forest, her mind was racing, filled with wonderful pain, and the fear of death, and the ecstasy of having killed, and the endless rage of her Mother.

Then, she felt the waning glow of the abandoned sanctum behind them suddenly cut off, and with the rage of a caged animal, she knew that fucking piece of human trash had destroyed it. The one who had hurt Sam. She hoped that she would be there to witness it there when the Mother ripped his fucking spine out.

“Wait,” Mina said, when they were at the other end of the forest. Ellie stopped. Mina’s back was dark with blood where it had dripped from Sam’s wound onto her. Ellie, of course, did as the Herald told her. She looked at Mina, seeking guidance, seeking reassurance. Her black heart would detest it from anyone else, but Mina was the Mother’s chosen, and had helped claim Ellie’s body and soul. What little capacity Ellie had left for something as weak and pathetic as gratitude, she was grateful for that. Part of her hungered to lick Mina’s pussy and reward her for it, even now.

Mina carefully laid Sam on the ground, and Ellie could see the gash on her torso. It had healed somewhat, and blood had stopped running from it. Had she been human, she’d be dead by now. She had passed out, and Ellie could tell that she was weak. Her resonance was barely there.

Mina was breathing heavily, eyes darting back and forth, obviously thinking rapidly. “She needs blood!”

Ellie nodded, and the resonance at her core billowed up in a sudden eruption of purpose and anticipation. She looked down at her shoulder, where the filthy cum-stain had slashed her flesh, and without hesitation, she dug her fingers into the wound and spread it open. Delicious pleasure erupted from her, and she moaned as blood ran down her arm, and she held it over Sam’s mouth, and let the stream of dark red drip into the Heralds mouth, steaming and sizzling. She was ready to give it all. She was ready to die for her. Her only regret would be that she couldn’t have served for longer.

But soon, she could feel the resonance in Sam’s serving flesh stabilize—and she was still alive, and the resonance in her chest changed and shifted, and she knew to stop. She pushed down on her wound, pinching it. Her shoulder prickled hotly, and shortly after that, her bleeding stopped. She felt very light-headed but relieved to be alive. Relieved that she might live to birth the Mother’s Gifts—live to offer her quivering cunt to the Mother—live to see everyone she knew claimed and turned into willing flesh.

“Well done,” Mina said, and Ellie’s pussy squirmed with shameless lust. She had served the mother. Her blood. Her flesh. It was Hers!

“We’ll need a car—and a new Sanctum,” Mina said. “We can’t risk going back.”

As Mina mentioned the Sanctum, Ellie felt a pang of anger in her chest. The Sanctum! Her childhood home had become a hot, resonant place of the Mother’s power, only for it to be destroyed again—and Ellie hadn’t even had the chance to fuck herself over her Mother’s dead body, basking in the evil that had claimed her heart! Instead, her new life had immediately turned into fear and anger and tragedy, as those filthy bastards had tried to stop the Mother that owned all flesh.

Now they were on the run, scrambling to keep the Herald alive, trying to find another home they could defile—trying to find more flesh to sacrifice. At least Elie would be able to get herself off to that, once it happened.

Something about Mina’s plan seemed wrong, though. Could they just… go ahead and make another sanctum—again? They would be repeating something that had just failed. It felt strangely like not making progress. Like losing. Making the same mistake twice. Like they were supposed to come up with something else—something cleverer, something new.

“Won’t they find us again?” Ellie asked. “I felt them, before they arrived—and I think they could feel us, too! Is that how they found us? Because if it was, it will happen again! We’re losing!”

Mina smiled. She opened her right palm revealing a piece of dull black ivory, fastened to a thin leather strip. A necklace. Ellie recoiled at the sight, instinctively sickened. She hissed with distaste, and for a moment she remembered what it felt like to be disgusted by death instead of turned on. Mina closed her fist again and put the revolting thing in her duffle bag.

“No. They won’t. At least for a while.” she said “I have taken the dead from him,”.

“How did you know to do that? It was all happening so fast,” Ellie asked, feeling an overwhelming sense of respect and awe.

“We have claimed one of the enemy’s ranks,” Mina said, and even in their tenuous situation, she couldn’t help but smile. Ellie knew why. Her own pussy moistened at the idea. “Ana. She was wearing the dead, too. She told us everything she knew once her flesh served. The Mother has raked her soul and seen how they think—how they can be beaten.”

Mina looked thoughtful, clenching her jaws. “Their hunter chose to cleanse the sanctum over chasing us and risking death. Now they will need to regroup. Get another cursed amulet to find us again. We’ve bought more time, which is all we needed. Only a few more hours until flesh-servant Ana’s seed has ripened. Hers will be the last, and she will weaken the Order, readying our attack. We will know when to strike, as long as we have a sanctum to channel the Mother’s voice.”

Ellie was filled with relentless determination. Yes. Anything to make the Mother take this world.

“Okay,” she said, her heart beating with sudden throbbing excitement. “I think I know a place.” Her lips curled into a cruel smile. She had never dared to imagine that she would be able to betray her old life so soon. Her pussy moistened. She was so fucking ready for it.

“I’ll call an old friend and tell him that we’re coming over. I bet he still wants to get into my pants. Let’s give him what he wants.”

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