Hey y'all, here's the chapter you've all been waiting for. When we left off, Trigon had just revealed himself to Angela/Arella Roth, just for context if you're starting the story here.

Also, a fair warning: this chapter has pretty graphic descriptions of rape and intense physical pain, not to mention a lot of blood and vomit.

So, yeah. If you're sensitive to that type of stuff it's definitely best for you to skip this chapter. For those who are still reading (or if anyone is reading at all), thanks so much for being here! Happy reading!

"My name," the man drawled, hand tightening around Angela's neck, "is Trigon."

"Tri-" Angela watched, petrified, as the gorgeous man above her morphed into something horrific.

His skin faded from the attractive tanned brown color it was to a terrifying blood red shade. His formerly glossy short black hair that had originally only gone a little past his ears extended to the middle of his back and transformed to a powdery shade of white. His toned muscles grew several times larger than they'd been previously, giving him the frightening appearance of somebody on steroids. His clothes that had already been slightly slipped off completely ripped to pieces following the drastic increase in size, falling to the ground beside the bed with the exception of a cloth wrapped around his waist that covered his crotch. His twinkling white teeth morphed into large, pearly fangs that dripped with a wine colored liquid. His size multiplied by at least three times. A horrifying pair of sharp, knife-like antlers sprouted and grew from his head, one foot long each at the least. His breath was all over Angela, and it felt like lava on her delicate skin. His fingernails grew to freakish lengths, curving at the ends and fading into a currant pigment. His cheekbones grew greatly emphasized to scary levels. And finally, the eyes, the glowing, luminous eyes that Angela had cherished so much, multiplied, spreading and breaking across his mangled, warped face, splitting four into ominous, ghastly, phoenix eyes.

Angela couldn't breathe. His hand was growing tighter around her neck, fingernails beginning to pierce into her skin. "No." She was at a complete and utter loss for words, not to mention totally horrified.

This whole time, the man who had been so kind to her, kissed her for the first time, taken her to order from a restaurant for the first time, shown her a beautiful meadow filled with the most stunning birds and butterflies she'd ever seen, even brought her roses, had been the devil. The entire time.

He had seduced her. Acted like he really was in love with her.

No wonder the cult's rituals to summon Trigon had ceased. He was already here.

They knew he was already here.

And they'd watched, idle, while Trigon tricked Angela into falling in love with him.

That's why everyone had made themselves so scarce. They were guilty. They felt guilty. Because they'd known.

They'd known that she was the bride he was to impregnate.

She was the bride Trigon was to impregnate.

The sight of Trigon, Satan, directly on top of her almost naked body, made Angela freeze. Completely. That's how terrified she was.

She still hadn't fully processed his words yet when he lashed out a veiny hand and tore straight through her thin bra, putting Angela's round breasts on display for Trigon, who licked his lips, a drop of drool falling onto Angela's ribs, causing her to shiver.

All of a sudden it was like a bucket full of ice water was throw on Angela's face. TRIGON was about to have sex with her. Now. To birth his baby.

Suddenly Angela's instincts kicked in, and she started screaming, "No! Get off of me! You aren't- no! No! No!" She pounded at Trigon's bare chest and scratched at him, shrieking the whole way. This was a church full of people, somebody had to hear her! "HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE!" Angela wailed, trying to move her feet to kick the demon off of her but finding that she could not. She felt paralyzed.

"My child." Trigon was no longer the man Angela had fallen in love with, and she realized this the second the demon spoke. His voice was slithery and sounded as if there were two voices talking at once, one was the disembodied voice of the man he had previously been, and the other one sounded like evil incarnate, deep, low, and distorted beyond belief.

"Be still," Trigon commanded, releasing Angela's neck. Angela, breathing hard and trying to cover up her bare breasts with one arm and punching and striking him with the other. She couldn't let him take her so easily.

"I said be still." He grabbed Angela's wrists and squeezed them roughly. And using his power, glowing marigold ran through his visible veins through his arms and exited out of his hands, burning Angela's wrists.

"Ahh!" Angela shrieked. Agonizing pain burst into her entire hand and she could feel her skin tear; blood dripping down her skin, like blood to snow. It was unbearable, like her wrists were getting the veins ripped straight out of them with someone's teeth. "Ahhh! Stop, please!" Angela wailed, tears streaming down her face. She felt like she couldn't breathe, the pain was so intense. He was burning directly through her skin, and it hurt so badly she felt she would die right there.

Trigon's lips curved into a sadistic smile, and he released her wrists, the bare little girl sobbing and shaking beneath him. Seeing the pale teenager vulnerable and marked by him gave him great pleasure. She was irresistible.

Trigon smiled and kissed Angela gently on her plush pink lips, wet from tears. He felt Angela cringe and shrink away from him despite her pained state, which brought him much satisfaction. He drew a substantial amount of maniacal joy from the hurting, trembling Angela defenseless and naked beneath his body, consumed by the sense of total control.

"I," Trigon rasped, voice full of desire, "have fantasized about doing this to you for a long time, Angela." His four hideous eyes stared down at Angela, full of hunger.

Angela, still quaking from the excruciating pain throbbing from her wrists, said nothing, the only sounds coming from her being sniffles and sobs. She felt like she couldn't breathe or speak at all. Her lungs and throat seemed clogged. She did not try to fight Trigon for fear of being burnt again. The only sound she could hear was her heart pounding painfully in her head.

Then, with one swift move, Trigon tore through Angela's thin white underwear with a single sharp fingernail.

"No!" Angela screamed, trying desperately to sit up, but Trigon simply shoved her back down violently onto the bed. Angela yelped in pain as her head came down on the headboard, and instantly she knew the skin had broken by the pulsing sting she felt on the top of her head and the wet, cold blood she could feel running down the side of her face, mixing with her tears.

"Yes, darling." Trigon cooed, running a finger along Angela's bloodstained jawline. Angela was in too much agony to flinch, heavy cries coming from the girl. His touch felt nothing like the man he had once been. It felt dirty, disgusting, like worms on her body. Angela was exceedingly bruised, harsh purple marks everywhere on her once pure, clear body. She still felt his hand on her neck.

Then, strangely, Trigon saw something forming on Angela's bloody forehead. He paused and watched curiously, still cradling Angela's face with one hand. To his pleasure, the shape formed into the opaque Mark of Skath, glowing scarlet and fully visible to the demon lord above Angela.

"Ah." Trigon's fangs twisted into a grin. "I see you have already made yourself mine." Trigon, smiling at Angela lovingly, shifted slightly so that he was no longer directly on top of her, instead his knees were on either side of her outer leg. Carefully, almost delicately, he began to slip the cloth he had wrapped around his hips down to his legs, down until it was completely off. Satisfied, he tossed the garment to the floor, landing with a soft thump.

Now he was wholly revealed to Angela, just as bare as she was now. Angela's face was a mask of horror, blood drying along her sweet face, tears still streaming from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, and demeaning bruises coupled with cruel brown marks along her neck, wrists, breasts, stomach, and thighs.

"Please." One last pained whimper came from Angela. "I can't be the right one for this. Please. I can't handle this. I'm only seventeen.." She couldn't finish her sentence, collapsing into a weeping mess and shutting her eyes, trying her best to blink away her tears. She hated being so exposed, so vulnerable and defenseless under the monster who had deceived her into thinking that she was truly loved. But she also couldn't do a thing about it.

"Perfect," Trigon purred, leaning down and planting a kiss onto Angela's scratched breast. Angela drew in a sharp breath, repulsed by his lips.

"This will only hurt just a bit, sweetheart," Trigon whispered before latching onto Angela's breasts with his gnarly, cracked hands forcefully and tearing into Angela's exposed womanhood.

The second she felt the demon lord enter her Angela shrieked in agony. The pain in her wrists was now void compared to the now burning, ripping torture inside of her. His size was too much for her petite figure even with consent, and without her core being lubricated at all, she was completely dry, multiplying the pain that it would've been by ten times. Not to mention he had absolutely destroyed her hymen, causing vaginal bleeding that was now running down Angela's spread legs and onto the formerly clean white sheets of the bed.

Angela thrashed in torment and released a screech that didn't even sound human as Trigon, with a sick smile spread across his demonic face, drilled himself deeper into Angela, tearing skin inside of her as if he was ripping it off with his own hands. The sensation was unbearable. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to be pleasurable, consensual.

Raging pain erupted in her vagina when he started thrusting in and out of her, grunting in ecstasy. "Perfect," Trigon groaned. While the weak, screaming little girl beneath him was in the worst agonizing, raging pain she'd ever been in in her life, he was deriving great pleasure from the young girl's body. He forced himself even deeper, and Angela made a noise that sounded almost demonic, searing agony ripping and tearing at her skin and nerves. As he pushed inside and outside of Angela, he hissed sinisterly, "Doesn't it feel...good, my Angel?"

Angel. The name the man had called her. She was still thinking about the man and Trigon as two different people, which she knew she needed to break the habit of. But...they were so different. The way the man had said her name was like a hug, while the way Trigon whispered her name felt like slimy spit pouring from his lips and falling into her own mouth. Angela, insides churning, did not respond. She felt as if she was going to be if she opened her mouth even a millimeter.

Even more virgin blood rushed out of Angela and onto the bed and her legs. It didn't seem to be stopping, and in excruciating shock she realized her vagina had torn. Angela was too sick with horror to move, and when she felt Trigon hit her stomach she promptly threw up all over herself from the neck up. She was humiliated and the pain was torturous, as well as the stench of her insides running down her shoulders in a warm, disgusting trail. Her lips were chapped and bleeding from all the racket she'd been making. Her head continued to bleed, stinging like a horde of wasps from the gash, and Angela was shocked that she was even still conscious.

Trigon, unfazed by the vomit and blood dripping onto the bedroom floor, continued forcing himself in and out of Angela. In fact, the puke seemed to give him gusto and he began to move slightly faster, hands still squeezing Angela's chest. She felt raw skin wrench and slash inside of her, and the fact that Trigon was pressing against those inner wounds helped very little.

As for Trigon, he was close to his climax, his hot breath all over Angela's body getting heavier and deeper by the second. His fingernails dug into Angela's breasts, creating medium deep slashes in Angela's skin, making her hiss in pain. The cold blood ran down her chest and flowed down her outer waist and torso, eventually running onto the sheets, staining them further.

Finally, Trigon released one last final groan and climaxed inside of Angela, his hot semen spewing inside of Angela's horrifically mangled core, who screamed in agony as the liquid stung every ounce and cut in her womanhood and leaked out of her entrance.

Trigon contently pulled himself out of Angela, making her wince for what seemed like the millionth time. He seemed completely satisfied with his experience taking the young Angela as he got up off of the blood and vomit stained bed, picked up a piece of cloth off of the floor, and promptly tied it around his waist like he had had it before he had raped Angela.

Angela watched Trigon slip his clothes back on his huge body, crying silently. Every inch of her was hurting. Dried blood was on the side of her face, down her torso, on her breasts, and most of it was between her legs. There was hardened puke residing in various strands of Angela's black, tangled and now matted hair. Her wrists burned minimally now, but the skin was blistered, raised, felt papery, and was a scary shade of red. Between her legs hurt the worst, like somebody had shoved a knife into her and pushed it in and out several times to the

Trigon stood before Angela, looking even more horrific than ever, smoke fizzling from his eyes. "Now," he cooed, leaning down in front of the quivering, damaged girl,

"We wait."

And just like that, with a burst of flames, he vanished.

The last thing Angela saw before falling unconscious was the white dresser, and laying on top of it was the still-unopened box of chocolate and the bouquet of cherry-colored roses.