Kysad
When their steps traversed the fleshy floor of the great hall, the walls continued to cave rhythmically as long breaths were taken. The building lurched with every swallow of air, buckling under it's constant shift of anatomic resources; alive, but sleeping while the two moved through it's belly.
Korbin didn't acknowledge the life of their home, though it was a story his kind passed along over the ages despite having no evidence in the matter. No Abaasy was the same, but they all found a way into existence through one of two channels. Either they were born Abaasy as he and most of his peers were, or they were souls who earned their freedom in death from contracts they made with an Abaasy in life. This sprawl of macabre city that housed them was a great and powerful Abaasy, at rest after eons of tireless work. Their deathless end was treated as a torpored pause in their life; time for smaller breathren to toil. By the time the slumbering palace finally awoke, the land of Nod would be long dead; a husk of lifeless space rock with nothing but nightmares inhabiting it. At this point, he didn't know what the massive creature would do - but he knew he wouldn't live to see any reincarnation.
None of his kind was truly eternal. Even the great beast would find true death eventually.
A more interesting individual was his companion for the evening, one who had earned her place in the court among creatures of blood and fire and death through craftier means than he was capable of. Now the woman lived among purveyors and fiends, escorting the Demon deeper into the body of their deathless Abaasy home. There was nothing that stood out to set her apart from the human she'd once been, but it wasn't as though their breed of demon was strikingly different from the humans they snatched souls from.
Abaasy had no particular unity in their appearances.
"Kaithness," Korbin began, though his name wasn't Korbin in this particular circle of Hades where the Abaasy brood resided, "Where are we going?"
Around them, the massive rib cage of the palace seized passively, bringing in the walls a few feet before they were again stretched like the hull of a ship.
"Just follow me." His ginger topped leader stated plainly, though her expression was inwardly pleased with itself. "To the library."
The path they traveled pulsed with energy, but it wasn't that of the great Abaasy in torpor.
Beneath them, compacted, were countless souls of those who dealt with the Abaasy. Piled several meters high on top of one another, crammed side by side, the souls had been harvested to be sealed and stitched tight to their neighbors who shared bonds of similar fates. This formed a spirit padded mesh of woven suffering where the Earth's most despicable denizens were fashioned into flooring. In fact, the souls replaced other types of ground within the palace, stifling every crooked movement with distorted faces and twisted bodies whom the duo bypassed without a second glance.
Horrifyingly enough, neither demon was opposed to the treatment of those their kind conned into contracts. To the Abaasy, it was almost too easy to ignore those beneath them, and even though hands and arms and ethereal appendages of all sorts pressed upwards in some desperate attempt to garner attention from the overlords of the realm, the demons all but forgot about those who fed their slumbering giant.
This was just the way of things. Always and eternally within this circle of hell.
"I have things to do." Korbin, who was not Korbin at the time, remarked at her in a voice similar to his own, yet entirely not his. "Some of us have things to get done."
Kaithness didn't seem to hear him as they ceased moving before a large panel of doors. Her hands were precise in how they shoved through to make a new entrance, cracking bones of several suffering spirits in the process, though they showed no sign of pain. Spirits made no sounds, stripped of the ability to express their torment. Korbin only knew what he saw must hurt them because it was meant to hurt them, and those who did such things to souls did them with the intent of showing off their work. One either did a superb job at torture, or they weren't cut out to be seated in that position.
Kysad had never been a torturer. Not in any serious light at least.
Within the spacious room were shelves fashioned from bodies, the owners of said bodies all still alive and suffering in the obtuse, contorted positions they were forced to exhibit for the better part of eternity. These souls were not as lucky as those who made up the flooring, as those who were in the carpet of chaos would eventually be absorbed by the palace, freeing them from the horror that was their servitude. Lost souls who had been crafted into furniture were permanent fixtures with no chance of release or redemption.
"Do you remember when we met?" Kaithness asked him as her back rested against one of the book lined structures of monstrous creation. "We were here... I was here because of you." Her hands rested flat on the side of the book shelf, upon the skin of whoever had been so damned to become this row of historical texts. "Do you remember?"
He didn't say anything, but he did. How could he not?
It had been a late evening. The howls of the approaching crop echoed through Goliath bowels, pitched and poignant like a battle cry for his people. Riders of the ash cloud streaked by, covered in blood and shit and cum, all filthy and hollering with a collection of humans in tow. Poor, naive humans who had sealed the deal, made the pact, and had become entangled in the forbidden contracts their God warned them not to sign. Korbin hadn't been Korbin then. Korbin had been Kysad, and Kysad offered his support with a series of guttural hoots, chanting when the string of Abaasy paraded down corridors and up flesh puckered stairwells to the vats. Bodies needed to be boiled, stripped and flayed, taken apart so they could be sewn together once again.
All but one body, dangling limply on the back of the parading marauder's cart.
Kysad plucked Kaithness from her corrupted vine as though she had ripened with him in mind. Taking her into his arms while drowsy features looked up at the gnarled maw bearing down, Kysad didn't say anything to his captive. Without a voice, she couldn't scream; she also couldn't protest. He would never ask her what being bound in those leather restraints had felt like. To wear the skin of your fellow human while you lay with demons was beyond his comprehension - yet he would never apologize for giving her this life. He was not cruel to Kaithness as some might think his actions to have been. He only did what an Abaasy was used to doing with a human from realms above, and he knew no other way to treat such things outside of snuffing their life like a flame after midnight.
He remembered when her body was taut and splayed, legs to either side of his waist, knees bent and forced to touch her ears so he could fixate on how he filled both her lower holes. He recalled the crying, and the tightness of how she fit around his manhood every encounter they had, and in the throes of his passion, Kysad had covered her eyes with his hands and demanded she never dare to look at him while he climax. She was not his equal. Even as they stood staring at one another among the books, he saw no equal in his companion and he doubted he ever would.
"What do you want from me, Kaithness?"
Her expression was pained in the framework of fiery mane that was her hair, bright blue hues initially staring into a set of yellow eyes, but finding nothing of value, instead sought to search behind the irises. Beyond his person and off into the rest of the beast he harbored. "Why did you save me?" In how she stretched, with the curve of her back bringing her chest to peak, he swore she was forcing his attention to her body. If this wasn't the case, he debated if he was just in a mood and needed her, as though her baby blues were beckoning him back to a plot of land he had long ago claimed as his, but now was barred from visiting.
Answering her was difficult because he didn't care to, not because he didn't know what to say.
"Because I needed someone to satisfy me in the moment, but you did a good job for years, and that impressed me. I'm not easily impressed. You know this. You know all of this, really, so asking is just fishing for compliments." He tried to smile, but it resembled an ugly gash of broken glass teeth and tar black lips. "Now you're free, and it's history. You made yourself one of us, minus the ugly downside to being a beast of the pit. Congrats." His hands clenched tensely at his sides, busied so he didn't do anything he would regret later. "What more is there to know?"
Kaithness frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he concluded the explanation. Something about how he had spoken had turned the mood sour, though he wasn't given enough time to correct his wording. "Did I stop doing a good job?"
"No. You were the best at what you were."
"But you let me go?"
"Well, I ain't gonna keep you a pet forever. You earned what you got. The last thing I need is to second guess myself, so just drop it." Kysad straightened his posture and breathed deeply through his nose, lids heavy over his gaze while he studied Kaithness. "Why all the questions?"
"Guess I miss it." Kaithness slipped away from the other Abaasy to stroll back towards the door, her weight carried by the dance of her steps, seeming impossibly light based on how she moved. "Can't feel the same as I did. Not in a bad way, but in a missing way... Been missing you, been missing what you were to me." She made a habit of looking at Kysad only long enough for him to catch her out the corner of his eye. When he looked her way, the woman pretended to be staring into the grotesque library. At sinew strung books, into rot encased corridors... Anywhere that wasn't at him. "I didn't want to be a demon. I was happy being owned by a demon. Pretty fucked up, I know, but you spend all that time with someone and you grow comfortable. Numb. Now I'm feeling again, but it makes me want to go back. Back to only feeling you."
The redhead crossed her arms under her breasts and sighed audibly. "I still have human emotions, you know. Not like they were, but enough to notice. I can feel things. I can feel loss and pain. I can feel love. I swear I didn't feel it with you before, but sometimes I see you and I can't help it. Can't help being stuck on you, thinking I belong with you." Something of a laugh escaped her throat, dry like she couldn't believe what she was saying. "Ain't that some sort of fucked up?"
Kysad nodded once and brought his hands to his head, bowing his elbows to either side in a mock stretch. "I can't own you now that you're free. You have rights and shit."
"You feel like I do about it?"
"Yeah, guess so. Ain't like I replaced you. Just haven't been in the mood for it..." Shoulders shrugged quickly. "but even if I did miss it, or felt like what you say is true on my end, so what?"
"Let's go back to how it was."
Kysad hesitated at the thought, his vision lowering to the undulating of the floor where a mess of gaping bodies of uniform size mouthed their pleas for mercy. As per usual, they were ignored like fish in a murky tank. "Can't. You're free now. Ain't my place to keep you kept because you're an Abaasy too. We're all equals here."
"So what? You treat me well now?"
"I don't know." Rubbing the back of his head with his two settled hands, they finally lowered to swing aimless at the sides of his torso. "Do you really wanna go back to how it was? You really dig that rough action?"
"I guess. I mean, I couldn't tell you what my life was like before you. That make any sense?" A smile so faint, it could be overlooked in favor of her curves, settled over her face. "I was as happy as I can manage with you. I don't got a lot of comparison now, but I'm not as happy without you. Missing something- Missing the /you/ parts of me."
"You're a weird bitch." Kysad stated as he closed to gap between the two of them to rest at her backside, arms wrapping around her slender midsection roughly, hoping she wouldn't be able to walk away. "But I always liked that about you. Got this sick fascination with you, even after all these years- even after you earned your stripes down here." He never let her know how proud he was of his creation, but she could feel it in the embrace. As rough and as sexually fueled as it may have been, he was a simple enough being with a limited amount of space in that thick skull of his. When he accepted her there, it was instinct to do so, just like her craving of his abuse had become second nature.
Abaasy weren't humans, so the romance never came - or maybe it did, and both appreciated their brand of love and lust to that of their human counterparts. It was hard to say. Kysad had never been anything but Abaasy, and he wasn't even very good at being one; the lines often blurred. All he knew then was how much he appreciated her tears, and when she cried and begged him to stop, he knew he could keep going.
He knew that was what they both wanted in the end.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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