A/N: This story is purposely out of order, but it's not too hard to follow. At least I don't think it is. This is why the sections are numbered chronologically just in case pft.
Enjoy~
V.
Head bowed defeatedly, shoulders sinking, Kyle pivoted on his heel, turning with his back to face Damien. The last hour of a beating had left him weary, far too pained to keep fighting. Damien had given him his ultimatum: Turn or I make you and throw you back to the sharks when I'm done. The demon grinned, pleased with his compliance as a simple murmur of "adgrego," flowed through his lips, hands placed on Kyle's shoulders. The redhead winced, arching up as Damien breathed in ecstasy, body dissipating, sinking down into the smaller form of his prisoner.
Kyle's mind tried to comprehend what was happening, unable to and shutting down entirely, letting Damien's take hold of the reins. Damien grinned, running his tongue along straight teeth, hand slipping through curled hair as he stretched Kyle's legs, getting himself back into the feeling of taking him over.
His eyes flickered with red sparks under a coating of green, slipping up through the cosmos towards Earth, Damien gripping a dagger as it formed so beautifully in Kyle's slender hand. This was what it was all about: The hunt. Kyle's kind eyes and known warmth around his hometown made him the perfect specimen to lure in unsuspecting targets. Being everybody's friend had given him a loving life, and Damien an entertaining one.
But friends weren't on the list for today, no. He wanted to play with Kyle's natural anger. See just how much of the redhead he could perturb from his unconsciousness. Sliding through the void, he could pinpoint from Kyle's shadowed memory just where it was his casualty was residing.
With seamless accuracy, he emerged into the darkened world of a bedroom, lit by only a dim desk lamp, and looking to see a large mass hidden under a thick comforter. He grinned slyly, twisting his weapon in Kyle's fingers and heading to see the brunette snoring loudly and nestled down into his pillow.
"Figured you'd show up here eventually," a voice said lowly from behind him. Damien whirled around, seeing Kenny leaning against the wall, a dark glare shadowed over his face.
"Well, well, what a surprise," Kyle's voice came out smoothly, Damien licking over his lips and relishing in the sweet, spiced taste of his skin.
Kenny growled, "Get out of him," he demanded.
He smirked, "Why would I do that? He's a perfect fit," he cooed, holding up Kyle's free hand and turning it in the low lighting, a dreamy look over the redhead's face.
"This isn't funny, Damien," he snapped.
He shrugged, "Not meant to be. Death is never supposed to be funny. At least, not to most. But you think it is, don't you?"
He bared his teeth, coming towards him determinedly and Damien held up Kyle's hand, his weakened power from within the mortal still pulsating through enough to stop Kenny in his tracks. "CARTMAN, WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Kenny screeched, trying to break out of the hold and get to the intruder.
The brunette jolted up, dazed and dizzy from the sudden interruption. "Po'Boy? Get the fuck out of-" he paused, looking up to see Kyle's slim figure standing by his bed, grinning maliciously. "J-Jew?" he blinked. He hadn't seen the redhead for months. No one had.
"Yes. Jew," Damien replied simply before jutting his hand to the side and slamming his dagger straight into the brunette's eye.
An ear-piercing scream rattled the walls, Cartman's body jerking in shock as Kenny screeched with him, trying to get over to help. Damien calmly slid the dagger back out, looking at the pieces of tunic layers covering the tip in their gelatinous shine. He glanced back at the suffering man trying to stop the bleeding, tears and blood running down into his agape mouth as he continued to wail. He paused, feeling a flicker of Kyle trying to get back out, trying to stop him as his subconscious beheld what the monster was causing.
"Really, you're being rude," Damien chuckled. "People are trying to sleep." He moved the dagger down to Cartman's neck, digging deep and ignoring him trying to push him away, slicing cleanly along the thick width and pulling his weapon back, calmly smacking Kyle's lips and ignoring Kenny's frantic sobbing from behind him. Cartman choked, trying to cover his wound and fight out of his bed all the same, try to get out and get help. Damien watched, taking a simple step back as Cartman collapsed onto his bedroom floor face first, tangled in blankets and still halfway in the bed, falling still with a torrent of blood rushing onto the hunter green carpet.
Kenny was a screaming mess, as he had been for months. He'd found out Damien from being out with Craig, getting shoved aside and watching him getting strung by the neck by wire up a tree. He tried to get to him, unable to from Damien's hold as Craig's grey eyes bulged, face changing hues and tiny hemorrhage spots prickling against his skin until he was finally choked out. It hadn't taken long to figure out that it wasn't really Kyle he was dealing with, not his kind friend of so many years. No, he was dealing with the antichrist himself, and hadn't the slightest inkling of how to save the redhead from being his vessel to sate such a vicious appetite.
Damien turned from the fresh corpse to the blonde's heaving form, feeling Kyle still trying to fight his way out and chuckling. Apparently he needed to push the envelope. Close acquaintances and enemies weren't quite breaking him down, so he'd just have to up the anti next time around. Green eyes dotted with garnet scanned over Kenny's trembling body as he stared at Cartman's slumped form. Kenny wouldn't die, but it might be enough to break Kyle's stubborn back. After all, he didn't know of his friend's tendencies to fuck around in the afterlife.
The demon walked up to in front of the held blonde, flicking up Kyle's hand so the man's chin was forced to look him straight on. A cruel smirk that was unnatural on Kyle's slender face cut through, Kenny's stomach lurching. "Why?" he croaked. "What did Kyle do? What did any of us do?" he begged.
He shrugged again, turning his attention to the blood-stained dagger. "Do you really think that I require motive?" he questioned. "Besides, your little friend here doesn't remember what he does," he said innocently. "He just knows he wakes up with an awful feeling. And it's eating him alive," he hissed, eyes sparking with a morbid glee that made Kenny sick to his stomach.
"Why. Him?" He repeated furiously.
"You," Damien scoffed. "Just happened to follow you, he happened to be the perfect candidate." Kenny's face fell from rage to instantaneous guilt and Damien snorted. "There there, I would've found him eventually no matter what. You just... sped up the process," he drawled, grabbing Kenny's chin, stroking Kyle's thumb along his jawline and relishing in the shaking he could feel through the sturdy bone. He took a deep breath, chuckling as Kenny's scent flooded Kyle's body, every nerve frantically trying to get to the source, his subconscious able to recognize that familiarity anywhere. Such a shame.
"Why are you killing everyone?" Kenny whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Damien chuckled, pointing to Kyle with the dagger. "Why am I killing who he knows? Because the stubborn little bitch won't just give up and let me in all the way."
"Because he knows you're a piece of shit!" Kenny bit, wincing as Damien tightened the grip on his jaw, the blonde wondering if that was Kyle's strength on its own merit, or Damien contributing.
"Once he submits, I'll have no need to merely focus in this town," he said cooly, bringing up the dagger and tapping it against Kenny's cheek. "But... it appears I've been going for the wrong people," he grinned malevolently. "I need to get... closer to the source," he whispered. "Whoever's made the greatest impacts on his life. And, according to him... I've got two of you to go with... But only one of you can come back," he feigned a pout, breaking back into his grin as Kenny's eyes widened in panic.
"You can't," he said breathlessly. "Damien, just stop. You can't."
He snorted, "Oh, but I can and will," he promised. He grabbed Kenny's head, looking up in thought as memories flooded into the already crowded mind of Kyle. He hit his mark and laughed softly, "So. Stan and his family are out until tomorrow night, out on a quick little vacation," he purred. "Trying to escape the fact that no one has found little Kyle yet."
"Just don't," he pleaded. "Dam-"
"Ahp," he held his chin tighter. "You wanna stop me? You go right the fuck ahead. But you have to kill me, which means you kill him," he pointed to Kyle's face. "And if you kill him, he's eternally mine. Not just mine until he's too old or I get bored with him. But that's the only way you're stoppin' me. So, what's it gonna be?" he challenged with a wild grin.
Kenny sobbed, "Damien, just leave him-" he stopped with a choke as the bloodied dagger was forced into his chest, avoiding ribs and plunging right into his heart.
"Wrong answer," he said lowly, taking his knife back. He felt Kyle fighting like a banshee from within, teetering on that edge and he laughed lowly. "See you tomorrow," he purred. "Hope you can make it in time." He sank through the floor, leaving Kenny to collapse in a crumpled heap, writhing in anguish. Crystal blue eyes fluttered wildly, and his last tears of the night cascaded down his nose as a final, shuddery breath finally escaped him.
I.
Sliding through spires of obsidian and basalt, curling through licks of flames cresting the ground, there was an eerie impassivity resting in the yawning chasm of the gates to Hell. Filing through in uniform lines came the souls of the damned, each more despondent than the last. Reporting for punishment, cleansing their sins, experiencing death as they'd been forewarned of, but chose not to pay heed to. A humdrum afterlife to wade through for the rest of eternity, but one that nary a head turned at with shrill disgust once they became accustomed to the notion.
One, however, did not find the concept of death quite so monotonous. From one of his towers of brimstone he would watch, deep garnet eyes with the flickers of ruby dancing within flittering about as he watched face after face coming through his doors. It seemed preposterous, watching them as they stalked about as though heading in for a nine to five grind.
Death was supposed to be horrifying. It was the one inescapable truth, the final result of all things. It wasn't supposed to merely be someone's inconvenience. For years he sat and he watched, he observed people sliding down into the fire, brushing off the soot, and heading towards his home.
Damien had came to the simple conclusion: Death was a game to them, so he was going to make it one for himself.
Merely torturing souls in the afterlife did nothing for him. There was no pleasure to be derived from slicing open one who could not bleed, destroying one who would do nothing more than show up at the gates the next day, ready for round two. No. No the game was to be played off of his home field. However, it couldn't be so easy, not even for he, born of the Devil himself. He was bound to his world, only able to make the occasional trip up into the land of the living for short durations of time. What fun was a game played so sporadically? There was no joy in playing a game of cards, taking one turn and walking away for days just so you could return and make one more before repeating the process.
It had to be slow. It had to be earned. And it had to be by his rules.
For months, he'd pondered just how to go about his newfound interest, sifting through scrolls before finding what he'd been looking for. A way to soak into a mortal's skin, become that mortal and rid them of consciousness for his own gains. Blissfully unaware of their actions they would stay until he revealed himself; until he separated their souls and showed them the destruction that they themselves had caused. Death could take so many forms; be it physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual. All four were of a great interest to the antichrist, all necessary power that he needed his puppet to possess. His hunger began reaching its peak as time dripped on steady as melting wax, wondering just who his mortal pawn could be to carry out this game.
It had to be carefully planned. Had to be someone unexpected by society. Someone who was intelligent, passive more often than not. Someone with an inner strength that could handle his soul wiring itself into their own. And, most importantly: Someone not infected by the divinity of Christ. An annoying deterrent to say the least, but the risk of their oh-so-perfect Messiah stepping in to save a kindred soul was rather overwhelming, something that Damien was not quite willing to butt heads against.
Watching mortals walking the Earth became a pastime, slowly wading through the populous of wherever he happened to pick for the day. More often than not, he found someone close, but not possessing the overall combination of his holy quattourvirate.
That is, not until he found himself looking into the light blue eyes of the anomaly in the afterlife. The blonde boy of twenty five who found himself slipping through life and death like it was his own game, the game that Damien hungered so vastly for. On Earth for two to four days, in Hell for one, then back up to repeat his round. Kenny McCormick was a thing of mystery, one that no divinity had been able to solve. But he never seemed to mind too much, excitably telling anyone who would listen of his reckless behavior that'd resulted in his 'untimely demise'.
McCormick himself couldn't aid Damien in any way, having been baptized in his youth. He was an angel in waiting, no doubt going to pass to Heaven when his final hour finally struck. God had pity for him, after all, but couldn't handle someone messing with the finality of the lives of good people. So here he was to travel until the cord was cut once and for all.
However, watching him ascending back to Earth, back to his friends, had revealed to Damien his own saving grace. He observed Kenny stumbling into a room filled with friends, getting a cheerful greeting from the lot of them. Damien had slowly scanned over each face, lips twisting with distaste at the bland compassion of Christ reigning so freely within the group.
Until, that is, he landed on one sitting between Kenny and another follower. With hair twisted and tangled like flame, eyes beaming with green clarity and purpose, and a soul ripe for intervention, he'd found him. Sitting alone in the group, born of Abraham, yet seamlessly sliding into this group as though he were on the same spiritual path, he was a thing of wonder. He glowed in Damien's eye, the demon feeling the personal strength he exuded. Nimble and quick-witted, thoughtful and quiet until deemed necessary otherwise, and with a strong connection to his faith that Damien could feel penetrating his bones, he knew he'd found his instrument.
Patiently he waited, observing their conversation in the large group until the name was finally given and the game could finally begin. With a slivering smirk, he listened with vigor as Kenny spoke the name that sealed his fate: Kyle.
III.
"NO!" Kyle screeched, tearing at his hair, trying to back away from the demons approaching him. Damien always did this when he was misbehaving. Sent in demons who wanted to taste real living flesh, quench their thirst with blood that still flowed naturally through a warm body.
He bit his lip, looking to the side of the prison Damien kept him in at his makeshift bed. A winged demon crept ever closer and he whimpered, trying to take off running to dive under the mattress like a terrified child. A large hand caught around his throat, pulling him back straight onto a set of fangs delving into his shoulder blades. He screamed, waving his arms around frantically trying to hit the demons away as more closed in on him. The one behind his back grabbed his wrists, wrenching his arms back painfully as another demon took a solid bite out of his chest.
Kyle dry heaved, looking up at the stone ceiling with his glazed eyes as he was made into a feast, into a spectacle to be chewed upon until near death. Never enough to do him in, never enough to end what he had become.
His head fell back against the monster still gnawing on his shoulder blade, neck limply to the side to see his door, seeing Damien lingering in the way; watching. A close call with Kyle nearly being bitten through the throat a few weeks before had convinced him to watch every punishment, make damn well sure his prize wasn't swiped from him. Kyle cried brokenly, seeing the amusement dancing in those eyes at his torment, even as his own slid shut and he fell into a deep, blissful unconsciousness.
II.
Grabbing him from his room hadn't been nearly as hard as one might believe. Slipping up through the night and snaring him, dragging him off the bed as he awoke with a scream, fighting to get his arm free of Damien's grasp had been a treat. He'd received a nice bout of punches and kicks as Kyle struggled against him as he was forcibly taken through the portal to Hell, the assault doing nothing but enthusing the beast even further. He'd found himself a feisty one, a mortal that would no doubt give him nothing but trouble until he broke him down piece by piece.
Standing a good half a foot taller than the redhead, he'd stared down on him as he was brought into the flames, watching anger flutter into complete panic. Kyle tried planting his bare feet on ash and broken ground, whimpering and whining coalescing in his infuriated shouts. Minions and mortals alike had stopped in their tracks, watching with wide eyes as the struggle in front of them took place. Kyle was alive, something that drew them in. He was an essence of pure energy that they wanted to touch, wanted to feel and engulf all for their own. They just didn't know how much they'd missed it until it was right in front of them.
"You'll get him later," he promised a group of demons hungrily watching the valiant mortal doing his best to escape. They grinned in a way that Kyle felt chilling his bones, tangling his veins and flooding him with a mixture of apprehension and fright that he'd never felt before.
Damien forced him into an isolated chamber, bereft of any light but the glow of fire coming from a small window on the door. Kyle looked towards the barrier, letting out a dismayed cry at those demons crowding about, watching eagerly, waiting for their turn to take a bite. He was thrown onto a slab carved from basalt, trying to scramble up and away before a powerful force of air slammed him back into place, looking to see Damien staring down on him, grinning with those fangs so menacing in his petrified eyes.
"What?!" he snapped, losing any prayer of a collected semblance. He was out of his element, he didn't know who this was, or why he was quite clearly in Hell. 'Is this what death is?' he wondered. Maybe he'd died in his sleep from unknown circumstance; an illness, a heart attack, just God deciding it was his time. He didn't know, still fogged with the edges of drowsiness and unable to comprehend the monster staring so cravingly at him. "What do you want?" he demanded.
Damien leaned down closer, Kyle backing his head against the rock under him, eyes fluttering and breath desperately filling his lungs as he tried to put together this puzzle in his shaken state. He tried to move his arms, jaw trembling and teeth clattering at his newfound immobility. Watching in terror, the small red specks in Damien's irises began to glow, illuminating the rest of his eyes in an eerie light, a blood red sunset set aflame not six inches from his face. "Life," he answered curtly.
A million possibilities flooded the trapped man's mind, unable to pinpoint just where it was this was leading towards. He gasped, red lips agape as Damien forcefully ripped off his t-shirt, tossing it aside and placing his hand upon a bare, narrow and heaving chest. He felt the warmth, closing his eyes and relishing in the brisk beating of the living heart under his palm. Life was a thing of wonder, invigorating and something that all demons, even the antichrist himself, ached for. And now, he had it.
To take the mortal, to make him his, was no easy task. Rewiring a soul to become one's property, to make the vessel ache for him the same in which the puppeteer ached for him was monumental. It took a lot of energy, a lot of magic, and a good deal of patience. Leaning down to Kyle's ear, he nudged his head aside with his nose, grinning at the tiny, confused yelp coming through the air. He took a long breath, inhaling the pure essence of life, of power emanating from the small man. Hovering over his exposed ear, breath biting hotly against ivory skin, he began to murmur his curse. Kyle narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint what it was he was listening to. It sounded like Latin, the language of old, 'a useless subject to learn', he'd been told time and again as years wore on. He really regretted not taking advantage of the college course now.
Damien's tone remained smooth and tactical, claws delving in towards his ribs, just barely cresting the skin, but more than enough to seat him within the redhead. Kyle blinked as he felt something coiling in his chest, bursting into a frenzied scream as that something began to crawl inside of him. A parasite, one concocted from a mixture of blood and words slivered around his breastbone and through his ribs, looking for the nest of his soul. He was in a complete panic, breath running out. He was hyperventilating, fighting haphazardly against the force keeping him still. Damien paid his struggles no mind, simply wrapping his fingers through Kyle's hair, still mussed from hours of sleep, and tugging him down to remain steady.
A demon's lullaby carried through the cavern under the screeches and bawling of the man being viciously attacked from within. He could feel the parasite digging down into his bones and organs, spreading through his blood like a network, goaded on by Damien's calm, cooing tone. He felt a forked tongue flicker out in a brief pause, swiping under his ear and down his throat and he clenched his teeth. His body began to tremor, vision blurring and hearing going in and out as the worm spread up his throat, branching up through his face. Damien watched with a grin, seeing the consternation in Kyle's glassed eyes as trickles of skin rose with the breech. Spreading like roots under his skin, turning him into a textured map, the burning began.
The tears couldn't stop, voice extinguished by the grip on his throat, the falsely soothing voice in his ear. He was being torn asunder, nothing seeming to be capable of planting him back in reality, though, he couldn't be sure he'd even want such a thing considering the circumstance. He jerked incessantly, Damien's hold allowing him nothing but the slightest of movement to keep his spell steady. His strong coaxing never wavered, but the excitement could barely be contained. Clawed fingers were shaking, curious tongue unable to help but dart out time and again as they became further connected with each passing moment. Each of Kyle's heartbeats drew the parasite further into his bloodstream, into the essence that made him who he was.
Damien was completely swathed with his being, nearly intoxicated. His lashes fluttered, fangs drawing over his bottom lip as he continued to whisper words into the deafened man's ear, feeling the war for his soul raging, and the redhead so desperately losing. The demon could begin feeling a sliver what his victim felt, the agony transferring to the both of them, pinpricks at a time. He welcomed it. Finally able to feel, able to live. His vessel was a strong one, struggling so valiantly against what they both knew would be the result: He was going to be Damien's.
"Patitur me intrinsecus," he whispered, kissing sweetly under his ear, tasting the salted sweat pouring along his fair skin, watching the parasite thrumming underneath in its sporadic lines of vine. "Patitur tua dominus intrinsecus," he continued, letting go of Kyle's curls and stroking the dampened curls. "Be mine," he finished with a growl, leaning down to his shoulder and genially sinking his fangs into the exposed flesh, letting him feel each centimeter folding into his muscle. Kyle howled, heart beating out of control, each thump leading him closer and closer until-
He froze, body going slack and eyes opened wide, staring towards the wall with a dazed expression. The parasite stopped along with him, clinging to the last bit of body it needed before sinking down, his skin becoming smooth once more as it seeped into his very essence, every inch of him strung. Damien removed himself from his skin, licking over the blood parading down his fangs and chin and grasping Kyle's face, pulling him over to look at him once more. A smug gleam flashed through garnet eyes as their glow finally faded. "Little Kyle," he sang airily. "Are you still in there?"
A blink. And another. And another.
Finally, leaf green slid up to the face of his captor, shaking, pained hand reaching up, touching the side of Damien's face. Damien grinned, entire being smoldering over what he'd concocted.
Kyle was lost, completely disjointed from himself and thrown into a whirlwind of being. But he knew who this was. He felt safe. Tear-stained lips fumbled, whispers as thin as threadbare straw breeching the cavern. Damien leaned down closer towards him, that pride still glowing. "Yes?"
"I-I..." he stammered before the comfort snapped, a heady seating of rage coming into play. Damien blinked in surprise at the tone shift, too busy caught in wonder to notice Kyle's free hand curling into a fist and sailing towards his face swift as a stormy tide. Bare knuckles made contact with his mandible, a nice, clean sound filling the void, but Damien not moving an inch from the assault. He merely grabbed his forearms, planting them down over his head as tears once more filled those eyes, jaw trembling and nostrils flaring. Kyle didn't know what'd happened, he still didn't know who this was, despite some part of him feeling like this was who he was supposed to trust. But something felt wrong.
"Hm," he mused quietly, pressing down on his arms before standing upright and heading to the door. The game would have to wait just a little longer. Kyle was resisting a little too quickly. He opened the door to their hungry audience, looking between the group and the perturbed redhead. He glanced at the demons and their pleading eyes and smirked, stepping out of the room. "Don't kill him," he said simply, stepping off and letting them flood the room, walking away to the sound of Kyle's pained screams fading with him into the distance.
IV.
The lust was overwhelming, stifling both of them as Damien slammed a naked Kyle back against the wall. The redhead's eyes burst back open, animalistic and ravenous for the demon and him alone. Desperate hands scratched along the back of his neck, drawing him down into a heated kiss.
Fangs nipped at his lips, his blood trailing between their mouths as a smooth and a forked tongue twirled alongside each other, Damien grabbing his legs and hefting him up to his height. Kyle wrapped his calves around his hips, pulling him in closer, moaning lewdly and arching against him. He was completely consumed with the need to be filled, the need to satisfy his heat, as Damien had called it; A short span of time where Kyle's entire being would rely on him and him alone, in more ways than it typically did.
Their usual routine was nothing more than Kyle following him around like a puppy, clinging to him if a demon got too close before flickers of who he was before his capture flared and he began to fight again. But during this time, when Kyle's body was on the precipice of being poisoned from his parasite, Damien was the only thing that could keep him from pain. So he craved him, the antichrist was his only drug. The bitter stench of sulfur that Damien carried became pleasant, the instinctual hatred became nothing more than redirected into a pure aphrodisia.
"Please, please, please," he pleaded into his mouth, frustrated tears beading thick lashes. His nails scraped against the back of Damien's neck, arching with another moan as claws sunk into his hips, pulling him to rut against.
Damien was consumed all the same, infatuated to the point of no return with his marionette. Feeling the same needs as Kyle came with its prices, both of them so overcome that nothing could tear them apart from each other until the need was filled. He grunted, letting Kyle cling to him from around his shoulders, a slim hand twisting in pure black hair and keeping their mouths plastered against one another. He managed to worm in under Kyle's thighs, undoing his pants and letting them fall around his hips. He groaned, pressing Kyle's head firmly against the wall. Every inch of him was spinning out of control, drowning in the life that Kyle exuded. He murmured a simple lubricating spell against Kyle's lips before the redhead pulled him closer, silencing all but his own throaty concupiscence.
He slathered his standing cock, moving Kyle down the wall and pulling his hips forward, launching into his hole that Damien had spent far too long in Kyle's opinion preparing and teasing. The demon loved every moment of this, watching Kyle trying to fight through the overwhelming lust and come back into himself as he teased him with what was to come. It sated no appetite in the physical sense, but watching him writhe and cry and flitter in and out of himself, hating him but begging for his cock all the same, was more than enough to get his mental rocks off. He pulled back, watching with a grin as Kyle threw his head back and screamed.
He was in agony, he was in bliss. Kyle couldn't figure out where he laid, those spatters of consciousness telling him 'this isn't right' being beaten into the dust by the irreplaceable feeling of being filled to the brim by such a strong heat. He was opened for Damien's pleasure and for his own, eyes rolling back, short nails stained and filled with ash scratching Damien's back. He wanted more, he wanted all that Damien could give him, even though he knew just how easily Damien could kill him if he went too far. He could completely destroy him, death by fucking as it were. Neither wanted that. Kyle still, in moments where his keen mind reverted to itself once again, dreamed of escape. And Damien would have nothing more than a pretty little fucktoy should he let anything happen to Kyle, should he lose his life, and therefore lose his own game. It was a catch no matter how it went about, either one was set to lose should Kyle be killed, so there was no desire to head down that route.
Slamming up into the tight body, he watched muscles standing out starkly under fair flesh, skin glowing in firelight an array of red and purple, bruises ranging from plum to fading beige, and raised scars from claws and fangs gone awry painted his entire being. Damien's eyes landed and settled on a nice, fresh bruise from the day before riding along the crest of his jawline, a warning when he tried to run from another lighter punishment for disobedience.
"More, more," Kyle panted, hips jerking to rut against the demon's stomach, begging him to come closer. Damien obliged with a grunt, tongue trailing up his throat before biting down on the crook of his neck. Kyle screeched, overrun with a jumble of emotion. The pain was there, but he couldn't focus on it. He was too lost in Damien's heat, his hormones, his unnatural instinct completely taking over any semblance of control.
Legs cramping, shoulder being torn, Damien's cock assaulting him like a brand; all nothing compared to the elation slowly creeping through his veins. The parasite was eating this up like a master chef's finest entree. He pulled Damien's head closer against him, planted heated kisses on his neck, unable to control himself. He needed to taste, needed to feel. He needed every little part of Damien to be focused on him and only him.
Kyle's hips continued pressing against Damien's shirt with every thrust, cock painfully hard. Each push inside of him slid along his prostate, entire body ignited and craving all the more. His hungry moans echoed around them, Damien focused entirely on thrusting into the deep, drawing heat and suckling on the blood leaking from Kyle's shoulder. Despite his influence, his blood was still sweet, still beaming with a vigorous energy that riled him like no other.
Kyle gasped, rutting harder, kisses and angry bites littering over Damien's throat. He let out a long whine, teeth sinking into the demon's shoulder as his entire body clenched, practically in hysterics as he came between the both of them; his skin and Damien's shirt painted with his dubious humiliation. Damien held onto him tighter, pulling him down harder on his cock and releasing his shoulder, pressing back up against his lips and sharing the saccharine iron between the both of them. Kyle's eyes scrunched shut, legs achingly trembling as he continued to be pressed against the wall. He could feel his skin, newly healed from their last 'adventure' up to Earth, beginning to scrape apart yet again. He gulped down dryly, digging his face into Damien's shoulder and taking heaving breaths, trying to recover from his high but unable to as soon as Damien gave a final hard thrust, feeling the slick heat escaping inside of him. The redhead moaned, slumping as Damien continued to ride it out, panting and nipping at his throat. He slowly came to a stop, both of them taking a shaking breath as Damien slid out of his used body.
He grinned against Kyle's neck, "Better, little one?" he cooed, gently helping him down onto shaking legs, still clutched around his shoulders. Kyle pulled back, looking up at him and Damien smirking, seeing that defiance trying to slam back into his stare, but knowing it was far off and away. Kyle was going to be pleading for his full attention for the next day at the very least. "Hm?" he cocked his brow, brushing a lock of curls from his eyes.
Kyle went to say something before the worm began to hunger once again, body once more aching for the touch it'd just gotten away from. He launched forward, clawing in a carnal rage. Damien wrapped a strong arm around his waist, carrying his squirmy whimpering form over to his bed and slamming him down, looking down at him predatorily. Kyle's jaw trembled, reaching up and touching Damien's face with the geniality of a lover before his fingers hooked and tears ran down his face.
"Please," he whispered through the sobs, fighting between relief and bawling as Damien leaned back over him, taking full control once again as they rutted together. Claws dug into his arms, pinning him to the stiffened mattress, but he didn't care. Damien knew just what he needed.
VI.
From the background of the room of silhouettes, the steady beat of an analog clock beat away second by second. Glazed green eyes, tiny speckles of red decorating the forest within and setting them ablaze, drifted down to a slim hand. A thin object which gleamed in the night shone back against his stare, ivory knuckles tightening and a smug smirk crept up thin lips. Down he watched the thick liquid, stained like newsprint ink in the moonlight, as it steadily fell onto plush carpeted floor.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He could see the puddle beginning to form, the sloppy result of coagulation spattered across the suburban floor. His gaze drifted back to the the bed he'd came for, the mangled mess lying, still half-covered by a thick grey comforter. Wide blue eyes, petrified and betrayed gaped at him, glassed and visible in his limited scope. Hands covered in defensive wounds lay limp atop the mattress, fingers curled in the slightest towards the intruder. Those same hands that used to gesture for the same one to follow him as the embarked on another adventure through their lives as the best of friends. Now they laid gashed, same as the puncture wounds through his throat, driven through the larynx and torn down, taking the jugular with its path.
Beside him laid two of similar positioning; one a woman curled defensively and still around a mere child of four. Three sets of dark hair besmirched with blood; a family lost in the repugnant stench of copper and sulfur.
The last standing could feel something within his chest snapping, a final chord being struck at long last in what seemed to be an endless aria. A deep, raspy breath was drawn before he bowed his head, slumping down and his back arching up into the air. He was lifeless, nothing but a husk of a man.
Just as he wanted.
A long groan broke through sullied lips, splashed with three sets of blood and fear. He could taste the anguish, the terror, and the bewilderment still left from the corpses not three feet from him. He hissed, tainted eyes slamming shut as skin began to rip, muscle and bone spreading compliantly as another began to seep from his spine. Stepping out of the man's body, his mortal suit, came a beast. Fluidly he stepped onto the carpet behind him, sliding his arms through a mesh of incantational netting. Sharp fangs gleamed in the night, watching amusedly as his fingers swept out of the body, watching him collapse onto the ground, strands of flesh automatically stringing across his destroyed back to place him back together. Eyes now turned back to pure basil flittered open, a wall of pained and horrified tears swelling painfully within them.
"Good," the beast drawled, reaching down and grabbing him around the neck, a brief panic flickering through the fallen form as he was hauled up by the throat, the ruby-encrusted dagger in his hand falling with a thump onto the sopped carpet, a splash of merlot spreading from the impact point onto their feet. "Good," he repeated, brushing licks of ember tendrils from the boy's forehead, watching the panic fall, replaced with a glazed exhaustion and a quiet, shallow breathing pattern as his body continued to heal itself. "Look at what you did," he whispered, turning his head to stare at the victims growing colder. He felt the gasp, the pure horror racking through his body. "This was you," he growled, forked tongue coming out to lap at collected blood on the crook of a slender, porcelain neck. Sharp, glowing red eyes traced down to the skin, a mess of bite marks and bruises from an everlasting struggle against him and he smiled fondly, thorny claws tracing up the trembling body, soft as wool.
From behind them, a door slammed open, both of them turning slowly to see a disheveled blonde standing in the light, a renewed body shaking. "Kyle," he whimpered, looking from him to the corpses on the right in horror. His attention turned to the one holding his friend, entire body alight with rage. "Let him go, Damien!" he screeched, breaking into a run towards them.
The monster smiled maliciously, clasping tighter around his prize and sinking down through the house and into the Earth back to the chasms of Hell, leaving nothing behind but a lonely, brokenhearted man falling to his knees in a bawling defeat.
A/N: Hopefully this wasn't too confusing pft
Thanks for R&Ring!