The Damned Demon



The Dimension of the Damned opened its infernal jaws to welcome Asher, swallowing him into a realm so far removed from the realm of the living, it could only be described as an eruption of desolation and fire. 

It was a scene painted with the most twisted and nightmarish brush strokes; a place where the air was so thick with heat, metals would weep into oblivion instantaneously, succumbing to the relentless, unyielding temperature.

Above, there was no sky, no cerulean expanse painted with clouds or stars. Instead, a fractured mirror hung, an endless ceiling reflecting the hell below.

The land, if it could be called such, was a churning image of green-spewing volcanoes, each eruption sending a cascade of molten rage across the rocky surface.

Green flames flickered on their gnarled branches of trees that bore no leaves, casting eerie shadows that flickered with malevolent intent.

In this chaotic expanse, lakes of the same viridescent lava pooled, illuminating the desolate space with a glow so unnerving, it could only belong to the damned. 

From time to time, Asher always had a feeling he was underestimating this mysterious dimension and that he had barely touched the tip of the iceberg to discover its mysteries.

As he stepped into this realm, it seemed as though the dimension itself sought to claim him, his flesh and skin flaking away as if kissed by an invisible, insatiable fire, leaving behind only a skeletal frame. 

It was charred to the blackest black, and within its hollow eyes and around its form danced flames of dark green, a hellish and haunting light that mirrored the condemned land around him.

His gaze, now glowing points within the skeletal visage, shifted towards a structure in the distance, a cocoon bathed in an ominous glow. 

It pulsated wildly, the light within flaring and flickering like a heart ready to beat its last or perhaps, its first.

Smirking inwardly, Asher moved forward.

"Seems like you are ready," he mumbled, his voice echoing within the vast nothingness.

Approaching the cocoon, without hesitation, his skeletal hand, wreathed in those haunting flames, shot forward, striking the surface of the structure. 

With a sound akin to shattering glass, the cocoon fractured, lines spreading across its surface before it shattered completely.

Amid the settling dust and the collapsing shards of the broken cocoon, a figure began to manifest, imposing and tremendous in its nightmarish majesty. 

It was a grotesque mix of man and dragon — a silhouette carved from the depths of despair and forged in the cauldrons of hell.

His skin was a blend of black and volatile magma, a sheet of shimmering scales and burnt flesh. Half his visage was flesh while the other was a charred black skull.

The terrain of his body mirrored the volatile, rugged topography of the damned dimension, spiky and rough, encapsulated in an eternal dance between solidifying rock and flowing magma.

Wings, vast expanses of blackened, magma-drenched membranes, unfurled with power that seemed to pulsate through the accursed atmosphere, casting shadows so deep they looked like chasms into the abyss.

But for all his intimidating, monstrous grandiosity, the creature immediately sank into a position of deference upon sensing Asher's presence. His submission was absolute, an unspoken allegiance born of unendurable torment and subjugation.

"Agonon, how does it feel to be damned?" The question, hanging in the sulfurous air, spilled out of Asher's bony mouth with a cold, deliberate slowness.

Agonon's head, a cathedral of scars, scales, and burnt cranium, lifted gradually. The eyes that met Asher's were fiery chasms of dark green, swirling with emotions so deep and dark they were almost unfathomable. Yet, no words fell from Agonon's lips. Silence, thick and oppressive, cloaked the space between them.

"You sought to enslave my kingdom, to chain my wife and her people to the whims of you and your kingdom," Asher continued, his voice a steady, unfeeling murmur, "Yet here you are now, damned for an eternity. Every second of your existence will be a torrent of unending agony, your soul fracturing over and over until there's nothing left to break...nothing but an empty shell."

He took a step closer to the kneeling imposing figure, eyes narrowing, "You'll serve me, with every fragment of your being dedicated to fulfilling my wishes. And through it all, you'll bear witness to your own despair, but incapable of expressing the depth of your pain on that face of yours or whatever is left of it."

In response, Agonon remained silent, yet for a fleeting moment, the flickering flames within his dark green eyes seemed to waver, reflecting an ocean of unspoken torment.

—

On the last week of the quest,

The muffled sound of rapid footfalls echoed through the verdant expanse as two women dashed through the wild paths of the forest, their clothes, crisp and white, were stained with the ink of the earth, bearing testament to the ordeal of their quest. 

Their breathing was ragged but determined, matching the urgent cadence of their strides.

However, their eyes were vigilant, making sure to watch their surroundings and look out for anything hostile.

The long tendrils of the one's blue hair flowed like a chaotic river, matching the tension on her face.

Her eyes, brilliant and bright like the midday sky, flickered with unrest, "Amelia," she gasped between breaths, a nervous timbre threading her voice, "are we truly nearing the place?"

Amelia's nod was firm and resolute as she parted away the chestnut strands of hair that was falling over her face, "Yes. I had overheard a few strong groups talking about their favorite Safe Zone in this mini-dungeon. I bet we are very close, and let's pray they are camping there. We can't risk ourselves running for too long in the open."

A semblance of relief brushed over Rachel's features, eyes momentarily closing as her hand instinctively clasped the pocket of her pants, safeguarding what was within, "This Deviar we stole from that villain is our only shield. But it would only matter once we get home safely. After that, he wouldn't dare to come after his, lest his prized possession fall into the hands of his demon enemies."

Amelia's smirk bore the sharpness of a blade, eyes glinting, "Indeed, no demon can resist, and they would not hesitate to carve him open for it. It's a good thing I also took the phone, which had those photos, just in case, though we have no reason to worry even if he made copies. But it's a pity we couldn't get Emiko and Yui out."

"It is…" Rachel nodded, feeling bad for those 2 poor girls.

Images of her days as that villain's slave flashed in her mind. The embarrassing things she had to do to lower his guard, get on his good side, and finally steal his Deviar.

She winced as she remembered how she volunteered to put a vibrator inside her pussy since he suggested it might make him happy. 

But the worst part was he wouldn't let her remove it and make her walk around with it still inside while carrying out menial duties like cleaning the bathroom or setting his bed.

It was so frustrating when he only kept watching while the vibrator was wreaking havoc inside her, creating an unbearable itch she couldn't do anything about.

And the most humiliating part was that she was beginning to lose it and had no choice but to ask that villain to do something about it.

Only upon hearing her plea would he make a move and take out the vibrator to fuck her until the itch wasn't bothering her anymore.

Rachel didn't know if she should feel disgusted at herself for asking for it and feeling good in the process. 

No matter how much she wanted, he had a way of making her body bend to his will. 

As weeks passed, she would feel her nerves being jittery if he didn't do anything to her for the entire day even without the vibrator inside her.

She winced as she remembered touching herself during days when he didn't touch her and it took all her willpower to stop herself. She couldn't help but glance at Amelia and wonder if she was alone in experiencing all these embarrassing and disgraceful things.

Amelia must have felt it too…right? It must be only natural.

"There it is! Finally…" Amelia's gaze suddenly rose, landing upon a structure in the distance, tall and beckoning.

Yet, before triumph could fully blossom, a voice, stern and vigilant, sliced through the air, freezing them in their tracks. "Hold it right there!"

Like specters materializing from the ether, five Hunters, clad in sturdy armor, emerged from the foliage's embrace, weapons drawn and eyes sharp, their gaze locking onto the pair of Amelia and Rachel with unwavering intensity. 

Seeing their fellow Hunters, Rachel and Amelia glanced at each other with relieved smiles.

With a gesture as innate as breathing, Rachel swept her flowing blue tresses back with practiced grace, exposing her ears while tidying up her appearance a bit.

"Ease your minds and lower your arms," she began, voice steady yet laced with an urgent tone, "It's me, Rachel Sterling, and with me is my friend, Amelia. We just escaped from Hellbringer and his underlings. But time is of the essence. Bring me to whoever is managing the Safe Zone you guys are staying at. We have to gather as many Hunters as possible and attack the Safe Zone Hellbringer is hiding in and kill as many of them as possible. It is the least we can do for our people who died to him."

Her gaze, sharp and imploring, moved across their faces. Yet, the five before them harbored no welcoming smile, no glint of recognition or relief in their eyes. 

Instead, their visages bore the heavy mask of suspicion, their whisperings creating a silent web amongst them, their weapons still pointed at the two.

Impatience, like a simmering pot, began to bubble within Rachel, her brows furrowing like gathering storm clouds, eyes narrowed into slits of frustration, "As I said…Time is of the essence, and we've paid in sweat and blood to get here. Lead us, without further delay, to the safe zone!"

Yet, the response she elicited was far from the obedience she expected. 

One amongst them, a man with eyes that weighed and measured, took a step forward, the point of his sword still casting its cold, accusatory glare upon them.

"Word has traveled through the mini-dungeons," he intoned with a gravity that seemed to thicken the air around them, "...that Hellbringer managed to corrupt you two and plan to use you two to lure us out and ambush us with a setup. So forgive us, Miss Rachel and Miss Amelia. But we are going to have to bring you two in under suspicion and let the rest decide how to proceed with you two."

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