Chapter Eighty Five, Demons.
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A bell rang, signaling someone entering the establishment.
It was night time, pitch black outside, and the slums were quiet. There was little to no activity outside, and this building was one of the only places with lights on.
In fact, it was almost bustling with activity inside.
The one that had caused the door bell to ring, navigated her way throughout the bar. There were haggard men and women all around. The hard working people that gave their lives to their jobs.
She approached the bar itself, taking a seat at a stool.
"And what can I get for you?" A bartender questioned from the side, making her look over. As she did so, it was obvious that the man twitched.
Perhaps it was due to the blood red eyes she had, but she did not care much for that.
"Oh you're cute..." She spoke, with a soft and teasing expression. The man quickly pulled himself together, trying to wipe his nervousness off of his face.
He came closer, a glass in hand.
He placed it down in front of her, a small blush on his face. He masked it with an incredibly bright smile.
"Thank you!" He replied.
"But you didn't answer my question..." He put both hands on the table, and tilted his head.
The woman looked up at him, a strangely enticing smile on her face.
"I guess you didn't pick up on what I was saying..." She whispered.
"I want you."
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With a thud, the man was pushed up against a wall. She struggled with his shirt for a few moments, unbuttoning it. The two were engaged in a heated situation, their tongues fighting for control over one another.
With the same eagerness as her, he tussled with her clothing, pulling her dress off of her shoulders.
There were groans and moans, and the two didn't seem to have a care in the world.
With expertise, the mans shirt was unequipped and tossed onto the ground. At that notion he almost wanted to pick it up so the ground wouldn't dirty it, but he let it be.
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The woman ran her hands along his upper body, and he almost shivered from ecstasy.
His mind was moving at a thousand miles per hour, and he was enjoying this.
But, that would be short lived.
"Ah!" There was a stinging, a burning sensation as he was pricked on his neck. He could feel her teeth sinking into his skin.
"I-Is this what you're into?" He nervously laughed.
But she did not respond.
Next, there was a far more damaging feeling.
His stomach was pierced straight through.
He struggled to look down, trying to see what had happened.
The woman backed away, and he glanced up for a moment. There was blood on her face, and despite the fact that she had taken steps back, her arm was still outstretched.
He looked down, and the sight made him want to scream.
A hand, straight through his stomach.
"So this is how I'll do it..." She muttered.
"When I step into the higher ranks of the fourth order... I'll seduce men, and transform them like this." She laughed.
"It's a shame I haven't inherited true Vampyre blood yet, or you could have joined our ranks..." She sighed.
With a swift motion, she yanked her hand out of his stomach, and involuntarily he coughed up blood.
His knees buckled, and he was in the midst of falling.
Then his life ended.
With a swipe of her hand, she clawed at his neck, severing it from his spinal cord.
His skull dropped to the ground and rolled a little ways away.
"Lucifer will praise me when I inherit his blood... Us demons will take over soon, there's no doubt."
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At the same time, something rather interesting was happening in a different locations. In the upper regions of the capital, in the noble district.
"I'm tired of waiting for One and Eridil... I want some havoc to wreak." A woman stepped. Her entire body was bandaged, very little skin being shown. She had half and half hair. One side was white, and the other was black. Her white hair was accompanied by a blue eye, and her black hair completed with a red one.
On her face was two markings, curse marks.
Power curse marks imprinted by her demon...
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Behind her were the corpses of seventeen guards, and standing in front of her was one man.
All the slaughtered bodies behind her were just unfortunate patrolmen, and the one in front of her was similar.
Not in the fact that he was a patrolmen, but in the fact he was unfortunate.
This man was one of the king's swordsmen. Number Eight, unfortunately the weakest of them all.
He was in the second level, and the foe before him was of the same status.
But she seemed a whole lot more intimidating than she should be.
From her back emerged a strange appendage. A thick and fleshy arm. It was horrifying.
There were spikes along it, and eerily it looked like just an amalgamation of meat melded together. At its end was a hand, equipped with four clawed fingers, similarly shaped as a humans.
"I'm the tether to a second order demon... No human can combat me." She smiled.
Her arms lifted from her sides, and her head fell backwards.
"NONE OF YOU CAN HOLD A CANDLE TO ME." She laughed.
The arm shot forward, and the man ducked.
"I need to tell the king." He drew his sword, leaning low towards the ground.
He dashed forward, his sword glowing in a dim light.
It was enchanted.
"But to do that... I'll need to kill this thing."
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