Chapter 5: A Conversation Amongst Charnel
“This is my natural form, how I like to be seen. But I can make minor adjustments when I have to” I saw the fingernails flex and sharpen ever so slightly and tried to act natural, tried not to shudder and attempted to compliment her in hopes of staving off evisceration. “Oh, that’s cool, are you a shapeshifter then?”
The woman scoffed and summoned a ball of soft pink light as the wick died out completely, her eyes twinkling in a manner that made my heart sting a little. I wondered if that was some kind of magical aura or just a side effect of being trapped underground and getting massive doses of adrenaline in the clutches of certain death.
“I can shift my shape a little, but I am no were-creature. I am a demoness, pressed into battle by my commander, used as a front-line soldier in his struggle against a rival demonic lord.”
She gestured around at the corpses dismissively. “It was actually some of these hunters who got me out of that situation and if they hadn’t done it in order to kill me I’d have been very grateful to them.”
I wanted to look at anything else but I couldn’t look away from her, she had a simple beauty that enchanted me.
“I’m free now and this group of men who hunted me are dead.” She looked right into my eyes with a soft blue gaze and squeezed my shoulder a little more. “I owe you for your assistance mortal. I may have been killed were it not for you and I simply must repay you. Got any ideas?” Something stroked the inside of my thigh and I looked down further to catch a glimpse of a supple, spade-tipped tail that whipped back around behind her with casual grace. “You said you were in a battle? Was this a war here on this world? Or a war in Hell?.” I asked curiously. As I may have mentioned before, I have very poor judgment sometimes.
The demoness stared at me in the flickering light as if I was a slack-jawed rube. “Dude, I’m stroking your leg with my tail, getting all seductive and you want to know about planar geography?” I looked down and saw that sinuous tail moving behind her once again. “Yeah, well, you're talking to a guy who just saw you kill a dozen people. Hell, I saw you rip a guy's guts out and some of the skeletons around this place are still twitching. So I’m not exactly in the mood for a quickie” The woman pouted adorably but couldn’t hold it for long before a grin broke in its place. “Yeah, that’s fair enough, I’ve spent my demonic ‘career’ in frontline combat roles so I haven’t gotten to do any of the mortal seduction before. I just thought if I acted all mysterious and confident it might work out ‘ok’” She made an obscenely lewd gesture to illustrate what she meant by “ok” and then rolled her eyes dismissively. “Do you want some more light in here? I don’t need it but you're looking kind of freaked out by everything”
I nodded gratefully. “That would be good, not too much light though, I haven’t seen dead bodies before and I don’t want to look at them too much. I guess you could say I’m new to this line of work too. Hell, I’m new to this world in general.”
The Demoness raised one hand and concentrated on it while half-listening to me. “Oh, yeah? What do you mean new to the world?”
A faint pink light began to form around her hand and I felt a moment of almost childlike wonder that was quashed when it illuminated a shred of viscera flung over a stalagmite.
“Well, I fell through a portal in a parking lot and accidentally picked a class that I feel kind of embarrassed about if that makes any sense to you, my memories seem to be failing me the longer I’m here though”.
The Succubus made a half-interested sound, clicking her fingers and causing a pink orb of light to drift from her fingertip to the ceiling, hovering about an inch from the uneven, rocky ceiling. In the soft pink overhead lighting, I could clearly see her for the first time. She really was beautiful, not in a stupidly over-sexualized or glamorous way like I would have imagined from a demoness but in the natural, maybe slightly supernatural way I’d caught a glimpse of before.
Cute little nose, lips that looked pretty kissable but not overly sensuous, and a slender body showcased nicely by black chainmail armor that featured an impractical boob window and edged with that delicate white lace that I had seen in the woods.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
I tried to keep my eyes on her beautiful blue orbs and resist the temptation to look down at her other equally beautiful orbs. In the moment I couldn’t tell if this was in line with how I normally looked at women or some kind of demonic effect? I didn’t know, but I felt like a creep and hoped she couldn’t read my thoughts. I prodded the conversation again. “Like I said, not from this world, I think I come from a place called Kroger.” Merillax clucked her tongue, considering what I’d said before giving a response.
“I do get the general idea of your story; I know some of the other Hellscapes would occasionally process lost souls from other worlds but it’s not a common thing”
I perked up at that. “Really? Is there a process for helping people like me get used to new worlds.”
Merillax giggled nastily. “No, if we get souls down there, we don’t ask what they want to do. No, we just torture their immortal energy until their mind breaks, and then the shapers twist and carve the souls into shapes.” She emphasized the last word by running her hands over her curves. I tried to act unimpressed, asking how often souls slipped into the wrong world and getting the answer I had expected.
Once or twice in a generation I think and as far I know we’ve only ever dealt with the common variety where I was stationed, souls from Azathor. Azathor is where we are now by the way”.
Well, shit. That was easy to explain. “Do you know anything about the class system?” The demonic beauty raised an eyebrow “Do you mean social classes like Peasant, Vassal, Noble, Royal, Serf, etc or do you mean adventurer classes like Fighter, Sorcerer, Phrenologer etc?”
I blinked, “Phrenologer?” The sweet smile turned sour with distaste for a moment and she began to speak, brow darkening with each sentence. “Yeah, one of those lost souls from another world brought us that school of magic a couple hundred years ago. Created a little cult of personality around himself, ended up getting the ear of a couple backcountry barons and starting a few minor race-wars. Thing is, he made a pact near the end of his life with Ashmadan of the Black Chain and got himself a role in the afterlife as a Soul-Shaper. Now there’s a whole legion of Battle-Phrenologers down there on my layer of Hell and we’ve got to put up with them wandering in and out of their Hellscapes trying to get other demons to take up Skull-Measuring and shit”.
I noticed her side, the spot where the hunter’s longsword had pierced and nearly disembowelled her was now unbloodied. “Who were those guys you killed? And how did you heal that?”
She sighed. “Demon hunters, this group decided to use necromancy to soften me up” she pointed to the fumbling skeletons attempting to rise on shattered bones and then to the black robed hunters. “Those were the initiates, they came in next. storming over the fallen undead and all hoping to take my head."
She smiled wickedly, all traces of the cute girl vanishing once more as she continued to gloat.
"It's insulting really, a couple waves of basic undead and then unblooded zealots with swords and axes swarming me. When that inevitably failed the senior hunter came in to finish the job. I've heard that they usually have an enchanted sword, a couple scrolls to provide magical buffs and a blessing or two from their local circle but not this guy.”
I must have looked curious because she elaborated a little more.
“He wasn't a veteran hunter, one of those would have overwhelmed me much faster but instead the most senior member they sent was an apprentice and you really turned the tables on that asshole when you came in.”
We looked at the dead man in the runic coat, his face was badly blistered and his organs were everywhere except where they should be. “You could take that coat if you wanted, it’s good protection against basic weaponry and a little bit of help against demonic attacks. Normally the order would hunt you down and exterminate you for such an affront but we’re in a very quiet corner of the world and I doubt those dipshits will have many surviving members around here after they face off against the other demon they were hunting” There was a cruel twist to her lips there and I wondered again if I could trust her. She must have noticed my discomfort because she quickly soothed my worries.
“No one respects these guys. All they do is summon demons and kill us while we’re trapped within their protective circles. It’s very difficult for us to visit Azathor so we usually have to be summoned here.
“Yeah, they like to ride around on the high horse but these guys are usually the ones responsible for us getting loose, we uhh, we don’t have many worshippers.”
I smiled at the thought of misguided Zealots perpetuating the problem they claimed to solve. Just like home.
“So if a demon gets loose do these guys get blamed or are they usually not punished for their actions?”
Merillax shook her head. “They're not very well respected in most places, sometimes they're even persecuted but usually they're just left alone and told to clean up their mess if a demon breaks the circle and goes on a rampage. Honestly I meant what I said about them, no one really respects them”
I remembered something she’d said earlier. Something about another demon. Before I could ask however I was cut off by a voice from above. “Jasen? Apprentice Jasen are you in there?”