Chapter Nine

Brought to you by my lovely Muse, who bears a striking resemblance to the talented Marilyn Manson and inspired by the song 'Fall of the House of Death' by Marilyn Manson

A/N; This chapter comes with a warning. It is dark and brutal, as in House of a Thousand Corpses / Devils Rejects meet Harry Potter. But I make up for it in the next chapter with some Antonin/ Hermione fluff. My main warning besides the Revel that goes on at Nott Manor is the implied child pornography. I do not go into detail it's simply implied and is essential for the storyline. All of these children get happy endings. Also added M/M, because I like Daemon and Conall. This chapter has been edited, I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer; I don't own anything it all belongs to J.K.

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Revel in the House of Death

They struck Elmbridge with the dying sun. Not a single scream pierced the quiet evening. No one noticed the shadows that slipped between the trees. Even the dogs were silent. Having no need to kick in the doors. They had learned to slow down the magic in the art of apparation. Breezing, they called it. Moving through space in the form of smoke, it used less magical energy and left no magical trace. Had a much lower chance of splinching in the heat of battle, and allowed for moving across rooms and under doorways. This made a reconnaissance of the witch hunters nests surprisingly easy. Jumping from house to house, riding the wind. A broom was not needed.

They had hit seven of the eight houses on the list. With a total of thirty-two prisoners, twenty-five men, and seven women. Before shock wore off the faces of the witch hunters, they were stunned, stripped, and chained in the Nott holding cells. They would save the most substantial house for last.

This was the only two-story home on the list, and they expected a larger group to be residing there. Apparating into the dining area while the muggles sat for dinner. There were only two men and one woman. They quickly stunned the small group.

Abraxas heard the sound, nothing more than a creak in the floorboards. His silver eyes shot a look at Daemon. Without a word, He and Conall breezed to the top of the landing. Conall crept down the darkened hallway occasionally pausing to try and fix a location of the footsteps. Daemon stopped at a room halfway down and motioned for Conall. Wands drawn, they stood to the side of the doorway, Conall slowly opened it. It wasn't angry muggles that greeted them with gunfire, but a dozen or more half -starved half-naked children. "What in Morrigan's bloody fucking nipples is going on in this house!" Daemon cursed.

"Hey, watch it! You're talking about my girl now. But seriously what the fuck!" Conall was shaking his head. "I'll get Brax; this is some shite." He removed his cloak and mask. Covering the huddled mass of freezing children, "I tell you,... what a way to ruin a good buzz...Waste of good whiskey... I'm going to have to start all over you know." Still muttering as he descended the staircase, mask in his hand "And take off that bloody mask you're scaring the little ones!" He yelled at Daemon.

"What's a waste of good whiskey?" Abraxas asked, "Because you bastards have certainly drunk enough of mine tonight! And what exactly do you mean by little one's Conall?"

"Kids Brax! They have a bunch of half-starved half-naked little kids up there!"

"Get them out of here!" Abraxas hissed and pointed to the adults, "Then come back and help search this fucking hole! I want to know what these fucking cunts are up to." He growled, following Conall back up the stairs.

Abraxas had never seen a more pathetic site. He quickly removed his mask and cloak, covering a group of small children. That sat shivering on the floor. He had been raised with love, and he had been sheltered from the horrors of the world and surrounded by luxury, just as he had brought up Lucius.

These children sat on filthy blankets on a cold wooden floor. In nothing more than thin cotton under garments. They were thin, and freezing, their wide terrified stares unnerved him. They didn't make a sound, not even a tear. When he turned to leave, a little girl spoke up, "Please Sir, pick one of us... if you don't ... if you don't pick one. They won't feed us." Her little voice trembled.

Abraxas slowly turned as to not scare her, he crouched down and motioned for her to come closer. Platinum hair hung to the waist of a pixie in a dirty oversized jumper. "What do you mean child, by pick one of you? Is this an orphanage?" His heart was breaking, he recognized the streaks, that covered her legs. Thunder began to roll in the distance; he would need to get some fresh air before he conjured up a storm. That would rip Elmbridge off the face of Britain.

"No Sir, pick one of us to take pictures with, to play with us. Just for a little bit that's all."

"Daemon," His voice cracked, and he choked down the sob that threatens to escape. "Take care of the children, get a head count ... what the bloody hell are we to do with...one, two, three ...with fourteen muggle children?...wait is this it or are there more in the other rooms?" He heard Anatoly and Simon climbing the staircase. "You lot ... take off the masks; you'll scare the babies." He met them at the doorway, running his hands through his hair. "Search this fucking house; I need a head count and any information you might find. Simon, what would Rebecca say to caring for a few orphans for a bit?"

"How many?"

"Fourteen so far... none it looks, over the age of eight."

"Any magical? Because you know she's going to want to keep them all... All of them Brax, you know she will." He knew his wife. She had always wanted a large family. But Alexander was the only child the Goddess had blessed them with. It would not matter that they were muggle, she would want them all.

"Muggle, or muggleborn? They're too young to tell. Just until we find their parents, I swear."

"Are we certain they're missing? Or were they given up willingly, like little Helen was? I'll head to work tomorrow and do some snooping around. I have a friend over at the Muggle Ministry; he can help us...I'll get Becca, she should still be awake...we'll bring a port-key."

"I owe you, Simon."

"Trust me, my friend...When I tell you, I know exactly how I want payment." A wicked grin plastered on his face.

Abraxas walked out to the back garden. With a ragged breath, he rubbed his hands over his face. Tears of frustration spilled over his cheeks. A vast majority of the old families were not blessed with more than one child. Rebecca would not be the only mother willing to take on a few orphans. Abraxas had always wanted a daughter, and the little girl with the platinum hair had stolen his heart. If Tom Riddle had any knowledge of this Abraxas swore he would show him the silver knife, up close and personal.

Rebecca Yaxley was not a mother hen. She was a mother dragon. It took all of her willpower to control her anger at the muggles for what she was witnessing. Her magic sparked and crackled as if she were a prepubescent girl. If she were not a proper pureblood lady, she would be joining in the revel that was about to take place.

There was a total of sixteen children when a sweep of the house was complete. Emmeline and herself had split the group taking eight apiece. Rebecca and her elf had them all bathed and fed and tucked into beds. She would worry about finding parents after her husband contacted the muggle ministry. She had suspected that three of the girls were witches, possibly more. Their magic had yet to emerge.

For all of his shortcomings, Simon never lied to her. He had given her the full story, leaving out nothing. These children had been used, exploited for money. Tortured and abused for the amusement of monsters. Simon had told her about the roundup and Nott Manor. He told her their plans for the muggles. Rebecca Yaxley was no fool. She knew full well what her husband and his friends were capable of and what his proclivities leaned toward. As she washed little bodies and dressed and fed, snuggled, and read stories to the broken dolls, he had brought to her. Not a fiber of her being felt sorry for what was about to take place at Nott Manor.

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It was no longer retribution for the murder of Lord Black or the abduction of Bellatrix. These were not just witch hunters. That, they could understand to a point. Muggles were fearful of magic and the unknown. Their religious zealotry could even be understood. But to steal children, muggle children and do the things that they had done. The wizards could not understand.

Daemon had found the stacks of pictures and props. His hands shook with rage, and his stomach churned. The men in those photos those were the real monsters. The things he and his friends had done and would do again to adults, never children. This is what had enraged them so much about the witch hunters. That they chose to murder muggleborn witches, that had hardly shown any magical ability, to begin with. And muggle babies with no way of defending themselves. They were defenseless children, all of them. He could respect an attack on a full-grown witch or wizard, these pathetic sacks of shite were bullies and only chose the weak.

A stack of photos slipped, scattering to the floor. Daemon bent to scoop them up. Not wanting to look at the disturbing images, he averted his eyes, and doing so he glimpsed a single photograph that had drifted from the others.

The image caught his attention. He recognized two of the muggles in a picture with a small boy. "Conall, look who I found." He passed the photograph to his friend.

"That is sick," Conall stabbed at the picture with a finger, "And that's coming from me! I know my sick shite...Hey, I know these two!"

"We pulled them out of that house on the east side." The demon flickered behind his eyes, and it wanted to play. He wrapped his arms around Conall and nipped at the back of his neck. "Let's pull them out first. See if they want to recreate this picture." Daemon growled, licking his throat he pushed his hardening cock into Conall's hip.

Conall chuckled "Tease!"

Abraxas stood in the center of the entryway," I think I've seen all I need, shall we begin this evening anew? I believe we have guests at Nott Manor and Daemon has a case of the same very fine firewhiskey."

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There comes the point in the night were the whiskey takes control of a man. He will either take a nap and sleep it off. Or it lights a fire under the demon that lives in his soul and the demon will not stop until that fire has burned itself out, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. And by the time the men of The Hunt returned to Nott Manor, a fiend-fire was unleashed. The demon that lived inside Daemon Nott could barely contain itself. It shimmered beneath his skin, his eyes flickered, nictitating between the demon and his true self.

"Easy Daemon," Abraxas hovered his hand over the other man's shoulder, not sure if he should touch him. He had seen the creature fighting for control and wasn't sure he wanted to be in the same room when Daemon let it out. "Do you still have that hedge maze?" He asked, shrugging off the cloak. If he could get Daemon to respond, he could rein him back. A half halt to distract the demon.

"I'd like to start with a little chase through that maze, maybe, turn loose those hounds of Conall's." He passed Daemon the new bottle he had just cracked open. "Calm that that beast." He grinned.

"I think it's feeding it more than calming it, to tell the truth." Daemon took a long pull on the whiskey, threw his head back and howled. Passing the bottle back to Abraxas, the joviality was returning to the group,

Anatoly and Simon returned from the dungeon. Howling and laughing in return. Each was dragging a muggle. Anatoly had a woman by the hair. Thoroughly unfazed by her struggling. She was clutching at his hand and flopping about on the floor. Refusing to walk.

Anatoly looked down at her, "I'm going to try out the spell again, the one I did on Jillian. If she survives ...I'll let her go... would you like that little bird?"

The muggle woman's eyes lit up, "Please, please let me go ...I'm innocent ...I swear it...they made me do it...please, please let me go! I don't want to die ...please I don't want to die!"

"It's simple love, if you're innocent, truly innocent I'll know and if you're a fucking lying pedophile you'll die, and after my friend here fucks you, I'll feed you to the hounds!" he hissed in her ear.

A chorus rang out from Conall's hounds that came bounding out of the floo. The muggle woman screamed, her bladder letting loose, piss running down her legs, as she tried to pull out of Anatoly's grasp.

Conall appeared on their heels. "I see I'm just in time." Taking the bottle from Daemon. His hounds were milling at his feet. Conall had brought his six best hunting hounds for the festivities. He knelt down and stroked the ears of his lead dog. "You follow Brax tonight, okay? You be good boys and do what he says! Yes?" Answered by yips and barks and a multitude of dog kisses, "That's my good boys... Brax, have fun, my friend. They're ready to hunt!"

"First, I think I want to watch Anatoly's curse." Abraxas picked up a bottle of whiskey and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs.

"I second that." Daemon conjured more chairs, arranging them in a half circle. And covering the silk rug with a transformed tarp.

Daemon settled himself next to Conall on a small couch. Leaning against his friend's chest, and running his hand up Conall's thigh. Conall wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. Violence turned them both on. And Anatoly's curse was sure to provide the foreplay they craved. No one batted an eye when Daemon unbuttoned his friend's black riding breeches, releasing Conall's legendary cock. Conall stretched out his long legs, rocking his pelvis against Daemons hand.

Anatoly had an audience, something he enjoyed. Reinhard was the voyeur of the group and would have thoroughly enjoyed this show. He would be sure to repeat the performance for his friend.

He dragged the woman to center of the makeshift stage. Pulled her to her feet, and he grabbed her face cruelly in his hand, squeezing her jaw. He bent his head down and ran his tongue across her lips. And whispered the curse against her mouth while he pointed his wand at her heart. The ink black tendrils started in the eyes and crawled down her face and throat. They began to grow up through her fingertips, slithering up her arms. Her breathing came in rapid gasps. Red blood spewed from her lips and onto Anatoly's hand, rapidly turning to thick black ooze. Her naked body was becoming a net of black veins all traveling toward her heart, pulsing with its rhythm. "Well, looks like this one was a lying cunt." Anatoly smirked, "Want to fuck her while she dies Simon?"

"Why yes, I do believe I will partake this evening." Simon took the women from his friend, handing over the muggle man he had been dragging to Abraxas.

Blood was now flowing and the tortured noises falling from the lips of the cursed woman. Meant foreplay had begun for Daemon. He was stroking the length of Conall's cock, occasionally taking his eyes off of the show in the middle of the room to stick his tongue down Conall's throat.

The cursed woman crumbled to the ground gasping and moaning. Her arms and legs were convulsing. "Let's see if she can still suck a cock." Simon sat back in the big fluffy chair, dragging the women between his legs. Her black eyes widened, and she screamed, dark drool ran from her mouth. And Simon punched her repeatedly in the face until her front teeth were gone entirely. Smiling Simon shoved his cock into her bloody hole and took the bottle of whiskey Anatoly offered him. Watching the curse as it begins to take hold.

Anatoly clinically watched from the arm of the chair. Simon had her grasped by the back of her hair moving her head. She had stopped fighting and had started to tremble. Gagging when he hit the back of her throat. Her mouth was slack and drooling, her eyes rolling back. His lap damp with blood, he thrust harder into her broken mouth, almost coming undone when she screamed against his balls, her throat vibrating.

Daemon moaned as she screamed and, licked the bead of moisture from the tip of Conall's cock. He made eye contact with Abraxas, who had his own cock in his hand. "Join us Brax?"

"Maybe, later." He blew a kiss in their direction. They had been trying to get him to join them for longer than he could remember. Tonight, he just might see what their game was all about. For now, he would opt to imperious the filthy muggle at his feet. Abraxas wasn't too particular when it came to getting his cock sucked. With one hand on the muggles head, the other was free to enjoy his drink.

Anatoly, not content to sit on the sidelines, joined Simon. Running his hands over the muggle woman's skin, feeling his curse running through her body. He could feel the vibration of his magic coursing through her. He dropped to his knees and thrust his fingers inside her. "You need to feel this." He whispered to Simon. His fingers, coated in the viscous black that had invaded her body. It dripped from his fingers and crawled back up her leg.

Simon pulled her up by her hair once more, shaking her like a dog with a toy. Standing up from the chair, dragging her to the tarp, and throwing her onto her stomach, he spread her legs, lifted her hips, thrusting his cock into her from behind. The violent seizures began, and Simon pushed her face hard into the tarp while she bucked wildly beneath him. Anatoly grabbed ahold of her arms, pressing his foot into the middle of her shoulders he wrenched her arms above her head forcing her down into the tarp. Convulsions wracked her body, as Simon pounded into her. She shuddered violently one last time with a gush of black slime from every orifice. She was dying, her breath now coming in harsh gasps, gurgling half mewling and whimpering. Her pupils fixed and dilated the pathetic noises ceased, and her mouth quietly opened and closed. Simon could feel her heartbeat slowing down. This was his favorite, this moment. When the tightness in her cunt quivered and relaxed, and he could feel her heart, fading. Simon thrust into her to the rhythm of her dying pulse.

Anatoly dropped her arms. They had dislocated in the throes of the seizure and flopped at awkward angles when they landed. Anatoly stepped away from the body, grabbed hold of the muggle sucking on Abraxas's cock, and sent the curse into the man's heart. "Here's another to play with Simon." He shoved the muggle onto the tarp. The body starting to convulse, hitting the ground with a loud thump. Anatoly walks back out into the foyer, leaving his friend balls deep in the cooling corpse of the first kill of the night.

Abraxas chuckled and tucked himself back into his trousers. "Guessing I was done then!" He stood up and ruffled Simons hair as he passed him and set a bottle of the firewhiskey next to the woman's head. Daemon and Conall, patted his ass as they whooped and laughed, following their friends into the next room. They understood Simon; he liked to play with the body of his kill. They each had their own thing. And they would leave him to his.

Daemon and Conall liked to play together. It wasn't just the sex but the bloodlust they incited in one another. They had found the two men they had in mind. The two from the photograph with the small boy between them. They pulled the two men from the holding cell and down the long stone passageway. Down to the demon's lair. Conall hoisted an unconscious muggle onto a white bed. The room was done in white because Daemon liked the contrast.

Conall placed a ball gag in his mouth and preceded to tie his arms and legs intricately. When he had finished, Conall dropped his cloak and undressed. His cock was already hard and jutting outward. He brought his hand down and stroking himself smiling at Daemon he walked over to the bed, lying back with his hands now behind his head. "Bring that fucking cunt over here and make him suck my cock!"

Daemon removed his robes and undressed quickly. He grabbed the bound muggle and tossed him on the bed next to his buddy. Daemon crawled from the foot of the bed; his hands traveled up the thighs of the son of The Great Horned God. He lowered his head and ran his tongue up the length of Conall's cock, licking at the precum that had gathered at the tip, sucking at the engorged head. His hands moved over the chiseled muscle of his abdomen licking and nipping until he reached the perfect lips. Conall sucked at the Demons tongue and stroked Daemon until he moaned in his mouth. "I need to fuck you!" he licked and kissed down the side of Conall's neck sliding off to the side and slipping in behind him. Pressing his cock into the crack of Conall's perfect ass. Conall arched his back and pushed back against the demon's cock. Daemon bit the side of his neck, drawing blood. "We're rude to our guests, and we need lube," Daemon said circling his finger against the puckered hole.

Conall rolled back over wrapping his arm around Daemon, kissing his forehead. "Let's get wet!" Conall retrieved his wand from the bedside table and woke the two muggles. Daemon grabbed the muggle without the gag and punched him in the mouth until he spit out his teeth. "You know, Daemon you could just vanish their teeth!" Conall joked.

"I like the blood; I thought you did too?"

"I do like the blood; it's my favorite lubrication. Are you going to make this cunt suck my cock now?"

"First, I need to show him something; I want them to know why this is happening." Daemon turned to his side table and pulled the photograph from the drawer. The one with the little boy, being brutalized by two grown men. Holding the muggle by the hair he shoved the picture in the mans face,"You see this," he growled close to his ear, "I ... have ...a little boy, my friend here with the giant cock ... he has a little boy... we're going to show you what we do to stinking cunts that do this to children!" Shoving the picture in the man's face Daemon bit down and tore the ear from the muggles head. The man opened his mouth to scream only to find his head being slammed down onto Conall's cock. Conall moaned with pleasure, warm blood pulsating against his swollen member.

Roaring with laughter, Conall pushed deep into the man's throat cutting off his airway. Bound with his ass in the air and an enormous cock stuck in his throat. Blood pouring from the side of his head.

Conall patted the man's cheek,"Breathe through your nose mate... or you're going to choke to death before we get started." He patted the man's face again.

Daemon knelt behind the choking muggle Stroking him until he was hard with a cruel smile and a flash of silver, a flaccid penis lay in his hand. Daemon was quick with a blade and the second slice removed the shriveled testicles. Bright red spraying Conall in the face. The man began to thrash against the restraints. Daemon filled his hand with spurting blood and coating his arm to the elbow he rammed it into the man's rectum. Conall held the muggles head tight in his grip, cutting off his airway while Daemon fisted him from behind. Blood was pooling on Conall's abdomen, and Daemon could feel the demon squirming to get out. He locked eyes with Conall, and his friend growled at him. " Let him out Daemon ...let him out!"

Daemon growled low and menacing; he felt his teeth sharpen and his nails lengthen. He pounded his fist into the man even harder. The picture with the little boy was lying on the bed, in front of the man's face. A face that was now turning blue from Conall. Daemon bit down on the back of the muggles shoulder, tearing flesh, sinking his teeth straight to the bone. He roared into the man's good ear, spraying blood and spittle. Slamming his arm as far up into the man as he could, Daemon sank the demon's claws in and grabbed hold, pulling.

Conall let go, shooting cum hard in the muggles throat. As he felt the hot intestine slither down his legs. Conall pushed the eviscerated body aside and reached for Daemon. They were both now slick with blood. Conall's hands snaked their way into Daemons hair, pulling him down and claiming his mouth. "You are going to fuck me now?" he muttered against his lips. Taking the lower one between his teeth and biting down. Conall ran his tongue across the bleeding mouth and sucked at the blood.

Lifting one leg, he hooked it around Daemons hip and pulled him closer. Daemons face hovering just inches above his, hair dripping with gore. Daemon bared his teeth, and his demon purred while Conall pushed against him, muttering a lubricating charm mixing nicely with the muggles blood his cock slipped into Conall's tight opening. The beast growled and gnashed its teeth at Conall's throat. The Demigod laughed and held the demon by the neck with one hand and worked his own cock with the other.

The remaining gagged muggle had regained consciousness and had managed to wiggle beneath the blood-soaked mattress. The bed stopped moving, and the growls ceased, he knew his time was up.

Curses required testing and Anatoly was a Master at creating new curses. Carefully selecting his subjects. He wanted a variety of ages, size, and weight, but found himself limited on females he chose only males for this first study. Anatoly had decided to perfect the Curse he named 'The Scale of Anubis.' Taking notes as he went. He would question his subjects using a combination of the imperious and a low dose veritieserum. Not all the specimens would die tonight, but the ones that lived would wish they had.

Abraxas turned six muggles loose in the maze. Not one would escape. He held the silver blade balanced lightly in the palm of his hand. Running his tongue over his lips and taking a deep breath. He cast the hounds. He would breeze through the hedges, a phantom in the moonlight. Letting the hounds pursue their quarry, ensuing terror, the terror he lapped up in their wake.

The group split, and Abraxas moved in. Spotting his first kill, the muggle leaned against a stone fountain. Breathing hard, attempting to catch his breath. He would never see the black smoke coalescing behind him. Abraxas appeared pressing the blade against his throat. "Shhh...Shush now...You like buggering little boys ...I know you do...Shhhhh, don't bother denying anything ...I've seen the evidence." He whispered into his ear. The muggle froze in fear. Abraxas pressed the point of the knife slowly into the base of the man's neck, just at the hollow, severing the artery. Easing the dying man to the ground, Abraxas knelt next to him. Pulling his stiff cock from his trousers, he thrust into the pulsing spray letting the blood lubricate his length. Before the muggle would breathe his last, Abraxas peeled the skin from his skull.

This is how he would hunt the remainder of the night. Black robes swirling, his jutting cock slick with blood and the face of the muggle his mask. He never used his wand; the wand was for business. The knife was personal. The hounds continued their reign of terror. Driving the muggles, causing them to panic and split. Or bunching them together. Conall had chosen them for this reason. They were hounds, used for hunting herd animals. And Abraxas picked them off one by one.

On the other side of the Manor Jillian slept soundly, stirring only once at the sound of baying hounds.

Finished, with the bloody path in the maze, Abraxas made his way back to the dungeons. Bloodlust satiated, he wanted to fuck something and not in a nice way. In a Conall and Daemon sort of way. He looked at the door that led to Daemons lair and thought otherwise.

Perusing the captives, he recognized the woman from the den of pedophiles. He had peeked into the minds of a few of the older children and had seen her brand of torture. She was a sick bitch. She would be perfect. Pulling her from the cell, he carried her unconscious into his room. He lay her on a small hard bed; he did not tie her up, he didn't need too. She was trapped with nothing to use as a weapon. He wanted her to run from him, to make feeble attempts to fight him off. He wanted her to feel the terror and helplessness that she had made the children feel.

Shrugging off the robes he removed all of his clothing, leaving the crusted mask of her dead comrade in place. Abraxas pointed his wand at her and revived her. She didn't move, playing dead. He crawled onto the mattress, on his knees hovering over her. Dragging his balls on her forehead and taping his hard-bloody cock on her face, until she opened her eyes. Scrambling from the bed, she let out a terrified scream; Abraxas grabbed her by the ankle grinning when he felt it snap as she hit the floor.

She backed herself into the farthest corner, her ankle dislocated and unnaturally angled. Abraxas was still kneeling in the middle of the mattress, stroking himself. He slowly moved off the bed, never speaking. Never breaking the eye contact he had with her.

Running his hand methodically up and down the length of his cock, precum mixing with dried blood. She continued to scream as he stalked closer. Darting under the bed now, Abraxas chuckled. She was cowering under the headboard, when he squatted down and reached under the bed. She grabbed hold of his arm and bit down. He pulled her out from under her hideaway.

Abraxas removed the mask. "Oh...ho,ho... I have a bad kitty that likes to bite... That's alright little kitty, I like to bite too!" His face still painted in gore.

Abraxas pinned her to the floor, her legs wrenched up to her shoulders, he used a sticking charm to bind her arms to her sides. She bucked wildly as Abraxas lowered his face, he licked the length of her slit, sucking her clit into his mouth. Abraxas, worked her pussy, with his fingers at first. Then viciously, shoving his entire hand inside her, pumping her with his fist. He took her clit in his teeth and bit down tearing away, blood gushing into his mouth. Her screams were deafening. Abraxas lifted his head and spat the chunk of tissue in her face. "Fucking cunt!" He flipped her over, face down on the stones. Her head bouncing with a loud crack. Splitting her cheek, He raised her ass in the air and rammed his cock into her blood-soaked cunt. The warm blood washed over his balls while pumped in and out of the wailing woman. Abraxas grabbed her hair and pulled her back into his lap, viciously biting her neck and shoulders. Tearing the flesh as he went. She wailed, and gagged, vomiting at the torture. Throwing her down in disgust he flipped her over to begin his assault on her breasts, her screams turned to pathetic whimpering, deadened by what was happening.

Abraxas laughed out loud, roared in her face and preceded to drag her to the bed. Throwing her face down, he spread her ass cheeks apart. Using her blood, he pushed two fingers into her ass, working her tight hole. Then three, twisting and tearing her opening, he rammed his cock into her. She was screeching now, just like he wanted. Thrashing and wailing, fighting. He would fuck her until she was dead.

The sun was rising when Abraxas left her bite covered body exsanguinated on the cold stone floor. His room upstairs beckoned with a promise of a hot shower. Needing desperately to wash the filth of last night's festivities off, before going home to Emmeline. She would be waiting for him. A hot cup of tea and his daily edition of the Quibbler. Maybe, he could entice her to join him for a nap. Then remembering, he needed to check up on the eight children, now in his care.

Conall and Daemon shut the door to the once white room. Bodies piled in the corner. They walked down the dimly lit hallway. Daemon reached out and took hold of Conall's hand. "Stay with me?" His voice was soft, unsure, almost a whisper.

Normally, Conall never stayed. He stopped and turned to look at his friend. Daemon stood before him, not the demon. There was no bloodlust in his eyes. Just a broken man, who needed his friend. Conall laced his fingers in Daemons hair and gently licking his bruised lips, he whispered against his mouth. "Shower first, then you're feeding me breakfast."

Jillian found her dark angels that morning. Wrapped in each other's arms. Their tangled limbs in the center of Daemons vast four-poster bed. Without reason, she pulled her gown over her head and crawled between them.

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