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Ashes	By : SelbenCoirlo Category: +G through L > Gargoyles Views: 8216 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gargoyles, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
This chapter contains: Violence, M/F, MDom, rape, snuff, minor scat, FDom, CBT

Chapter 2: The Price of Friendship

She groaned and shifted on the soft bed, a gentle ache spread through her body more like the memory of pain than pain itself. Then the memories hit, and the pain felt much realer. Demona reached between her legs and gently probed at her aching crotch, hissing with pain as her fingers probed the tender flesh. Grimacing, she spat a shard of fang out from between her teeth. Even though her mouth had been ruined when she passed out, it seemed to have recovered overnight and was now full of perfectly formed and perfectly useless human teeth. It still hurt like hell though, and she could feel the grit of shattered bone left from the night before.

She could faintly hear the sound of muffled voices from outside of the room, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. Slowly Demona opened her eyes and, digging her heels back into the mattress, she groaned with the muted sensations of pain and raised herself to a half sitting position. Looking down at her body, she grimaced; she was in her fragile human form now, and naked but for the shining golden jewelry she had worn for a thousand years. All the blood and sweat from her rape and torture had been washed away, and her fury formed a knot in her belly as she realized that her naked and unconscious body had been touched and washed by strangers. She tried to swallow her rage and calm down, to appraise her situation. This was the first chance she’d gotten to actually look around. At least she was no longer bound up in chains and leather.

The room was unremarkable in most ways; 3 yellow walls, marred by dark streaks at the top and bottom, above a rich blue carpet covered in dust. There was a single door made of thick wood with gleaming brass handles. The ceiling was painted black which alternately made it feel like a smothering and claustrophobic blanket or like an open and free night sky. She was lying on a large and soft circular bed, covered in silk sheets which seemed to have been recently replaced, most likely while she slept.

The most remarkable feature of the room was the gigantic painting that replaced one wall. It was of a nude woman from behind, a slender woman with pale skin whose long gray hair ran down until it touched her waist. Her head was twisted back halfway towards the viewer, and terrible ice blue eye was visible and stared right at Demona where she lay. In the painting, Miriam’s right hand was raised up beside her face and turned palm backwards, with a hungry red mouth opening upon the inside of her hand. The moon was behind her, far in the distance, and her one eye and the hungry mouth and the moon formed a triangle, a new face that seemed like a face of Miriam much truer than that she’d seen before. In the painting, countless arms reached out from the pale woman’s crotch, caressing her thighs and belly and legs, huge black clawed arms and tiny children’s hands and the bloody hands of killers and everything else, and each time Demona looked the hands shifted, and some were there that she hadn’t seen before and she could no longer find one which she remembered.. The portrait was terrifying almost to the point of madness, and even so she could tell that the awful majesty of the painting was only a tiny portion of that which had caused her to look away from Miriam, that which made the unbearable invisible.

Demona snapped out of her reverie when she realized the voices were getting louder and that she could understand them now. She leapt out of bed then froze there, standing, hissing through her teeth at the pain. She limped towards the door and pressed her ear against it.

“So I can do anything?” a man’s voice she didn’t recognize asked.

“Anything you like,” Miriam’s voice responded. “Just enjoy yourself. The money you’ve provided will cover all expenses. The only rule is that… there are no rules.”

“Excellent.” the man’s voice said, and she could hear his grin. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest now; she could barely breathe with the tension as she took one tentative step away from the door, as she heard a key click into the lock. Then her hesitance vanished, and she breathed in deeply as she slid against the wall next to the door and waited there, silently and with closed eyes, for the door to open. Her nakedness barely bothered her, she was used to wearing not much more than this, but nevertheless she felt the sensation of the wall pressed up against her bare ass a little disconcerting. The deadbolt of the door clicked heavily back into its housing, and after only a brief pause the door began to open.

“Well where is she?” the man asked, and with that Demona’s eyes flicked open and she twisted around the frame of the doorway, a deep and terrible roar trying to rip its way out of her but coming out like a human’s pitiful and desperate cry as she leapt. The man was completely unprepared, and though he was not a small man he fell to the floor under the impact of her weight.

Not bad looking for a human, some distant part of Demona thought. He had midnight black hair that ran down to the middle of his back, a heavy brow, and intense black eyes which seemed on the verge of panic now. Her fingers reached up to claw his eyes from his face, her teeth snapped at him seeking the satisfying taste of his blood. Suddenly her assault stopped as her breath left her. His knee slammed up into her cunt once more, still sore from her earlier rape and dripping a slight trickle of blood past swollen lips. He pushed at her shoulder and with a groan the naked woman rolled off of him.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” he shouted, twisting to look at the woman behind him. “This crazy bitch could have blinded me!”

Demona looked up, and though her eyes had trouble focusing she could clearly see the figure behind him. Miriam was wearing a black robe, and against the black and endless abyss of the hallway she looked like a severed being of head and hands and feet with no body.

“I told you,” she said serenely. “There are no rules.”

The man started to respond angrily and then stopped. He looked at Miriam briefly, then looked down at his feet.

“You two,” Miriam said, smiling. “Enjoy yourselves.” She turned and walked away, the ghostly flame of her gray hair the only part of her visible until that, too, winked out.

The man stood still, watching her as she left then blinking his eyes as she vanished. Demona rolled around onto her belly and forced herself up on hands and knees, unable to stop a groan as she felt the agonizing twinge between her legs. The sound of her pain seemed to break the man from his trance, and he knelt down in front of her and looked into her green eyes.

“My name is Evan,” he said, gently reaching out with one hand. She said nothing, looking at his hand then up at his face with a look of pure venom and hatred. He smiled sadly. “Now come on, don’t be that way. I had to hit you or you would have ripped my eyes out. I dunno where you learned to fight like that, but it was pretty scary.” She said nothing, staring at him, and Evan sighed. “Listen, I promise I won’t hurt you, okay? Come on.”

Demona almost struck out at him again, but her body still ached from the night before and from her beating. She grit her teeth as she touched his hand; the blow to her pride was almost as agonizing as the blow to her crotch had been. He gently lifted her to her feet, then wrapped his arm around her waist and escorted her, limping, back into her room.

As she sat down on the bed, wincing, he squatted on the floor and looked up at her. “Listen, um– what’s your name?”

She stared at him suspiciously. “Dominique.”

“Listen Dominique. The woman out there, Miriam, she’s an evil woman. She wants to sell your body to whoever will pay, for them to use as they wish. Lucky for you I was the first one, or who knows what might have happened to you?”

She barely stopped her upper lip from curling. “And why are you any better?”

“Like I said; I promise that I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help. I’m part of a group of citizens that likes to help people in situations like your own. We’re opposed to white slavery, and by using our own money we buy our way in to rescue girls like you.”

“Why would a hu– Why would you help me?”

He laughed a little, quietly. “I dunno,” he said. “Because it’s the right thing to do?”

Demona looked at him, then around the room and over her shoulder. “How do you know we’re not being watched?”

“Trust me, it’s part of the arrangement. No cameras are allowed in this building. Now, right now it’s still early, and people are still leaving. We’re going to make our move in about 5 hours, around the lunch break, when the fewest people will be prepared. I suggest you lie down and sleep, or at least rest, in preparation.”

She looked in his eyes, and saw nothing but earnest good will. She felt the little ball of excitement forming in the pit of her stomach in anticipation of escape. She hadn’t lived for 1000 years just to be used like a common whore, and together she and this human would prove it. She might even let him live while the rest of humanity burned.

As she lay on the bed naked, and pulled the sheets up over her body, she closed her eyes and saw Elisa Maza screaming in the inferno, her flesh melting in charred puddles off of her bones, eyes bursting and nose melting to reveal the shrieking skeleton underneath, imagined Goliath reaching for the woman he’d chosen over her only to have her skin slough off, her tits burst in sprays of boiling fat, and the policewoman’s destroyed body burning his skin like napalm. Even with the soreness, Demona touched herself gently and smiled in satisfaction. And then she slept.

*****

The urge was overwhelming. Her insides were churning, and when she opened her mouth to breathe she couldn’t. When she tried to move her body flopped there feebly, pinned to the soft ground, and it might not have been so bad except she needed to shit so badly, so badly it felt like it was already ripping its way out of her. She tried to scream but it was eaten up by the soft wall of nothing, tried to strike out but hit nothing that felt pain. Her scalp burned as fingers scraped her skull, as they yanked on her hair and pulled her face up to where she could see light and could breathe once more. And then she recognized the sensation of flesh upon her back. And then she recognized that what she felt was not something ripping its way out of her bowels, but rather something ripping its way in.

“Argh! You dirty human, you scum, worm brained shit dog!” His other hand came up and groped at her breasts roughly, pulling and twisting at her nipples as he slammed into her again and again. She smelt her filth with each breath she pulled in to curse, and he continued to rape her ass completely unfazed by the screamed and almost incoherent insults. Her voice was hoarse by the time he stiffened and fell on her, spent, reaching under her with both hands to caress her breasts, and she moaned as he roughly dug his fingers into her cunt.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me Dominique,” Evan murmured into her ear. “Your hatred makes very little sense, but it sounds so sweet, especially when I hear your pain behind it.”

She lay under him for a moment, silently, and he waited for her to start crying. They all cried during this part. Her elbow slammed into his temple and he fell of the bed with a roar of dismay, and as Demona jumped off the bed and raised her foot to stomp on his face or neck he grabbed her ankle and pulled. She fell to the floor without a noise of complaint and, using his grip as an anchor, kicked him in the mouth twice before he reached up with his other hand to catch her foot. Jumping to his feet he twisted her legs around, grinding her face along the carpet and leaving a streak of red from her bleeding nose and mouth, then forced her already damaged crotch into the wooden foot of the bed and driving his knee into her tailbone.

Evan dropped her feet and Demona curled up into a ball, groping at her burning cunt and growling, looking straight ahead with enraged and tearful green eyes, in too much pain to move. Again he grabbed her hair and lifted her, and she just looked up at him with hatred and rage burning in her eyes. For a moment he was afraid of her, and he wasn’t sure why, but with a roar he slammed her face into the wall, leaving a bloody streak on the yellow wallpaper as the woman slid down, then hung half standing against the wall, held up by her hair. He lifted her up a little higher then forced her up against the wall again with his body, his hard cock dug in between her thighs as they burned up together, and she whimpered in pain as he forced his way into her sore cunt. He pumped away at her as she lay against the wall, limp and semi-conscious, and as he raped her he reached behind him for the sheets half-hanging on the bed.

She started moving again when he wrapped the sheet around her slender neck, when he pulled at both ends and made the makeshift ligature tight around her. She clawed at her throat, opening bloody gashes which stained the white sheets, and kicked her legs ineffectually, never quite hitting him but sliding off of his bones and flesh without effect. The only sounds in that small room were Demona’s quiet dying gurgles and the liquid fleshy sounds of Evan raping her spasming cunt. She looked up at the ceiling with eyes reddened by bursting blood vessels, then eyes that glowed red with a demon’s hatred, then motionless dead eyes as gobs of her shit fell from loosened bowels and urine dripped down off of the man raping her corpse.

Evan hugged her tightly to him, kissing one blackened purple cheek as he lay back on the bed with her on top of him. “Honey,” he murmured, “I’ll still love you when you’re cold.”

He kissed the corpse on one ear and then drifted off to sleep lulled by the remaining warmth of her body; her reddened green eyes stared glassily at a ceiling painted like the night sky.

*****

“Fool!”

Evan woke up to darkness, to burning agony. He reached for his face, screaming, and felt the slender feminine hands with the thumbs dug in where his eyes used to be. All he could hear were his own screams, and laughter, terrible laughter that sounded barely human.

He pushed the woman off of him with desperate strength and leapt to his feet only to slide on something slick on the carpet and fall to his knees. He crawled on hands and knees towards where he thought he remembered the door being, then grunted as someone kicked him in the balls and again in the face as he fell on the floor.

“Crawl on the ground like the filth you are! You worthless human! You have dared to touch your superior!”

“D–Dominique? I thought you were dead…”

“Not Dominique! Demona! And I cannot be killed by the likes of you.” A knee slammed into Evan’s face, and he rolled over onto his back, clutching at his mouth. He curled up into a fetal position as one slim foot fell heavily upon his semi-erect cock, crushing his balls into the carpet. He desperately wrapped his hands around the ankle, but now all of his strength and weight seemed to mean nothing as she ground her foot into him, as he moaned in burning agony. “I would rip your feeble genitalia away with my fangs were they not soiled in filth,” she sneered, stomping down again and forcing an agonizing little spurt of semen out of him. He felt a heavy impact in his gut as she fell on him, and he could smell her breath in his face, smell the sour stench of rotten meat and of devoured foes. She spat in his face and he whimpered underneath her.

“Die,” she growled, and before he could respond the leather strap circled his throat, cutting off his words forever. He grabbed at the hands he knew were holding the strap of his belt, but they danced away out of his reach, and when he tried to grab at the strap and lift himself up he felt a foot slam into his face, pushing his head back down into the floor, the toes curling into his gaping eye sockets. Her hands ripped at his balls, tearing at his scrotum and unleashing burning agony in his belly.

Evan died with his screams of terror and pain locked forever within his chest by the belt around his neck. His eyes had been torn away and he could no longer cry, but before he faded away he heard the sounds of Dominique’s harsh laughter turn into even harsher sobs, and some piece of his failing brain wished cried for both of them.
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Ashes