Eclipse of the Moon Ch. 11

Deamon didn't pass out as much as he simply closed his eyes and blackness invitingly engulfed him. And inviting it was. The feeling was pleasant, as if he was returned him. He supposed, a part of him technically was. He felt the sensation of falling again, slower this time, but similar to when he died. There was no up or down, just a black void.

"Salutations young one." an eerie voice whispered in his mind.

Deamon looked around. "Hello?" He called out.

"It is I, the one with which you were fused not long ago." The voice continued in his mind, it sounded far off.

"You're the Demon," Daemon said more so to himself, "Why am I only hearing you now?"

"There was no use. Trapped as we were, there were no mortals to punish. Our return to the underworld woke me from my slumber." The voice spoke as if it was obvious.

Daemon thought on that for a moment, not entirely sure what to make of this new information. The voice laughed in the back of his head.

"There is nothing to make of anything. All is as it should be."

"Okay, so you can read my mind. What do we do now? What is your name?" Daemon asked.

"We do what I have always done. My name is Valefar, Duke in Hell. Friend and foe of man." The voice cackled now which created a sharp ringing in Daemon's ears.

****

While processing the information, Daemon blinked. He now looked up at the ceiling. Looking in both directions he quickly gathered that he was in an ornate bedroom, laying in bed. She lay next to him, sleeping soundly. Her blonde tresses fell gracefully around her face and she seemed peaceful. He watched the slow inhale and exhale of her breath. The rise and fall of her chest. She was beautiful. She was his.

He got up from the bed and began to soundlessly inspect the room. Shelves of books line the walls, as well as artifacts and marble statues. Paintings lines the walls, some he recognized and some he did not. In a past life, he had only taken money and lives, never objects of value, but he wagered everything in the room amounted to fortune upon fortune.

He walked over to the fireplace and sat in one of the adjoining chairs. He felt good, he felt strong. Snapping his fingers, the wood and ash burst to life. A steady flame burned in its place, illuminating the room. Realizing the room had been pitch dark, he snapped his fingers again. All the candelabras burned to life as all their wicks lit. His sight, he found, worked even better here. He relaxed into the comfortable cushion and waited.

***

Angel stretched her arms slowly in the dark. She was in a bed, a very soft and warm bed. The stretch felt good as she continued to move languidly. She opened her eyes slowly and was met with a beautifully decorated room. It must have been late because very little light came through the tall paned windows. Almost all of the light came from the grand fireplace and various candelabras. The walls were covered in dark wood with paintings and books, some statues, and tapestries with rich colors. In front of the fireplace stood two matching ornate chairs and off to the corner was a writing desk. She herself, lay in a four-poster bed. She felt remarkably refreshed. Perhaps she had really needed that sleep. It had been such a long time since she had woken up so refreshed. Something nagged in the back of her mind, telling her something wasn't right. What wasn't right? She wasn't sure. Sitting up slowly, she assessed her surroundings. Finding herself alone, a twinge of loneliness poked at her heart.

"Look who's finally awake," Daemon spoke from one of the ornate chairs. A feeling of overwhelming calm passed over her. "That must have been it. That is who I was missing." she thought feeling instantly relieved. He had been watching her sleep since he sat down. Wondering what their new existence would look like. He had felt great when he woke up next to her, full of energy, and even stronger than he was on Earth. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he should have done something like this ages ago.

He made to stand up and stalked towards her. He was struck by the look on her face. Did she look almost... happy? She looked at him with wonder in her eyes and a toothy grin as she sat on her ankles. He wondered if she knew she wasn't wearing anything. He watched her breasts move with every breath.

"Hi." She chimed timidly.

So perhaps not.

"Hello, little one..." He said skeptically. He was positively confused now.

He moved closer to her still until he stood next to the bed. She inched closer to the edge to meet him. She placed her hands on his chest and looked deeply into his eyes. His eyes grew dark with his lust. This was not his Angel, but he found it hard to investigate what was wrong with her when she behaved like this. The way she looked at him, he could be forgiven for thinking she would be willing to hurtle herself off a cliff if he asked. His hands wrapped around her sides and he lowered his head into her neck. She smelled the same. He licked up her neck and she gasped. She tasted the same.

She let out another gasp as his right hand played with her nipple. Arching her back involuntarily. That was his undoing. He took a half step back, appreciated her lithe form, and then roughly threw her further back onto the bed. She squeaked in delight and readily opened her legs for him.

"What the fuck is going on." He thought to himself. Shaking his head he wondered how far he could push her, was it all an act?

"Get on all fours." He growled.

She scurried to obey. There was no hesitation as she arched her back for him and assumed the position he wanted. She looked over her shoulder at him, curious about this person that she held in such high regard. She wasn't sure why, but something about him felt safe and trustworthy.

"That's not right. Look what he did to you?" The voice in the back of her head came called. "But he hasn't done anything to me, I just met him." She thought back.

He saw the look on her face change, from wide-eyed wonder to quizzical. She paused for a moment.

"Perhaps this was strange for her as well," He eyed her skeptically, "Let's see how far she'll go..."

His face contorted into something menacing and lustful as he slapped her ass with a loud clapping sound. He didn't hold back. She involuntarily grasped the sheets. Before she could respond, he spanked her three more times.

Slap

Slap

Slap

Each one produced a small "Ah" from her lips. He wordlessly rubbed the area on her bottom he had just slapped and continued on the other side. The soft feel of her ass was addicting.

Slap

Slap

Slap

She was panting now as he massaged her again. Her hips involuntarily swung forwards and backward with his movements.

His hand dipped between her folds and found her dripping. She moaned and pushed her hips back into his hand. He undid his pants with the other hand and just as quickly thrust all the way into her. He didn't bother easing her into it. Angel felt her breath catch as he took her. Daemon groaned on top of her as he bottomed out. He closed his eyes to savor the sweet feeling of her hot grip on his cock. He vowed to never go so long again without feeling her soft walls clamp down on his cock. He moved slowly out of her and thrust roughly back in, repeating the motion a few more times. She moaned louder now, in time with each thrust. If her mind was lost before it sure was now, caught up in the sensations he was bringing her. An ache low in her belly, she had never even realized was there, was being scratched. She felt hot all over. The feeling was becoming stronger and more overwhelming with every thrust. He slapped her ass again. Hard. The sounds she made were music to his ears. With one hand he gripped her hair and roughly pulled her head back. He thrust in and out of her much faster now. His balls slapped her ass every time he thrust in.

"You're mine," he growled in her ear.

"Yes. Yes. Oh, please." She yelled.

She was on the edge of ecstasy, something primal happened when he slapped her that brought her so much closer. He grunted as he pistoned into her faster. She screamed as she came, the contraction of her inner walls sent him over the edge. He groaned as he drove the last of his seed inside of her.

As soon as he let go of her hair she collapsed forward on the bed, panting. He lay down on top of her, also breathing heavily. Their sweat intermingled as their skin touched. A moment later, he rolled to his side. She brought her head up and found him to already be watching her. His expression was neutral. Hers softened as she blushed, she felt like a schoolgirl.

"Why are you enjoying this? Can't you see what he's doing to you?" The voice interrupted her thoughts.

The intrusion made her wince. Her hands massaged her temples to relieve the voice. It was giving her a headache. Daemon watched, unmoving.

"SOMETHING IS WRONG!" The voice was even louder in her head.

"Leave me alone!" She yelled in frustration. She only realized she had actually yelled it out loud when she opened her eyes. She turned her head to him and saw his raised eyebrow. He looked more confused than upset.

"I'm sorry, please forgive me."

"What do you remember?" He queried softly, ignoring her plea.

"What do you mean?" She stuttered.

"Before you woke up, what do you remember?"

"I don't understand," She looked as if she might cry. Had she upset him? That would be bad, he had only been nice to her.

"That's okay. I'll be back." He was already putting his pants back on as he stood. If she felt alone before, it was nothing compared to the feeling of him walking away. The feeling was akin to her heart being ripped out. Why would he just leave? Tears began to well in her eyes as he walked towards the door.

As he shut the door, a loud noise reverberated around the room. The sound transported her to a vision of a blonde body being thrown across a room. The girls' blonde tresses hung over her face as she lay on the floor. Her body was covered in bruises and blood. Crimson eyes looked at her, but Angel couldn't make out the face. In an instant, the vision was gone, and she was back in the bedroom. She shook at what she had seen.

"What was that?" She whispered to herself.

Looking around, she saw nothing amiss. She tucked herself under the blanket and waited for the man to come back. "He would know. He would keep her safe." She thought. Slowly she fell back asleep as his seed continued to drip down her leg. Her only reminder of him, and it felt comforting somehow.

***

"What the fuck is wrong with her?" Daemon accused as he strode into a common room. It was large with windows along one side, looking out over a red and rocky cliff, a fireplace along one wall, and green velvet seating in the middle.

He directed the question to Valefar but only found Pearlie lounged one of the couches. He looked up from his reading to meet Daemon's eyes. Pearlie looked completely unbothered by the situation. He was probably only one of two people who had ever treated him with indifference.

As Daemon got closer, and before Pearlie could reply a cold draft blew through the room. Daemon's face contorted into something inhuman. His eyes grew black as night and his features began to constantly shift, making it impossible to decipher what his true appearance was. Black smoke circled around his head and torso. He looked altogether otherworldly and terrifying. Pearlie looked on in horror and jumped back in his seat.

"Hello, thief." A voice coming from Daemon, but distinctly not his, spoke.

Pearlie stood from the couch and tentatively stepped forward, bending down on one knee. He looked nervous but determined. He steeled his eyes on the floor. If he looked up he doubted he would be able to continue.

"Greetings, Lord Valefar. I submit myself to your service." Pearlie didn't look up as he spoke. It took all of his resolve not to stutter.

"Yes," Valefar mused, "I heard your call to me. What could you offer, I wonder, with a soul so corrupted?"

A hint of amusement followed his voice. Pearlie didn't say anything. He kept his trained eyes on the floor and dared not move. When he first arrived in Hell, things did not look good for him. He was faced with eternal damnation and punishment. He had always been clever and found a way to escape his punishment. It was possible to swap one evil for another by submitting yourself to a high-ranking demon. It was rare and not well known mainly because most humans didn't know about demonology until they died. Rarer still, because the demon also had to agree. He had remembered how Daemon died and figured it was worth trying. For the first time, he was beginning to have some doubts.

Valefar walked slowly around where Pearlie knelt. A single finger playfully trailed across Pearlie's back and he struggled to maintain his position as pain shot through his skin. Everywhere the demon touched, a fire burned his body. Daemon's hand continued to touch here and there until he was satisfied. Valefar even chuckled as he languidly touched Pearlie's skin. Pearlie trembled but stayed still as the pain tore through his body, a single tear ran down his cheek. Sweat coated his dark curls and ran down his forehead as he trembled uncontrollably.

"Hmm, Daemon seems to like you. I will grant you entry into my service." Valefar finally cooed.

"I accept." Was all Pearlie said before he fell forward, breathing heavily.

The back of his white shirt was in tatters and soaked with his blood, exposed on his skin were the burned and bloody lines on his back created by Valefar. They formed the shape of a triangle with a cross below it. The mark of a demon's subject.

***

While Pearlie recovered from the pain on the floor, Daemon breathed in the smoke in one loud gasp and returned to normal. Apart from the crimson eyes. He looked around as if he had just woken up and took in the scene in front of him. He looked down at Pearlie in shock, but Pearlie only looked up with a wink. Pearlie stood up from the floor and limped his way back on the couch, not leaning back into the cushions. Daemon remained standing.

"What just happened?" Daemon asked angrily.

The number of things out of his control and knowledge was beginning to upset him. Pearlie gestured for him to sit on the opposite couch. Daemon begrudgingly sat down.

"When I died, I was sent here," Pearlie gestured to the space around him, "for eternal punishment. Turns out, killing people and taking their money does not equal a ticket to a happy afterlife. I knew which demon you fused with and so I called upon him to make a deal. He couldn't respond because he was with you and I couldn't be punished while a deal was left unanswered. I felt his call immediately when you walked through the door."

Daemon took a moment to make sense of all of that information.

Pearlie continued, "It's risky, sometimes being a subject is worse than the initial punishment but I knew about Valefar so I sought him out. After that, I found his castle and I've been waiting here ever since."

"I see. What about Angel?" Daemon asked, thinking back to the blonde beauty laying in bed with no clue about who he was. The thought of her alone and naked fueled something primal in him. He could feel his pants tighten at all the thoughts he had. He could figure out this deal situation later.

"You are going to need to be more specific." Pearlie drawled.

"She has no idea who I am." He raised his voice.

"Ah, yes. That." Pearlie seemed unbothered.

Daemon was becoming impatient. He motioned for his friend to continue.

"You probably never experienced this because you didn't come to the underworld the right away. When most people die and come here they lose some of their memories. They'll come back over the course of a few days though. It's thought to help with the transition but jury's still out." Pearlie confessed nonchalantly.

Daemon let out a sigh at that. "This was okay," he thought, "In a few days she'll be herself again."

He wasn't sure why it mattered so much to him. He had never cared before, perhaps the bond had changed him in some ways. He thought about their bond when he saw the thin blue strand of energy coming off of him and leading back the way he had come.

"This could be an interesting few days." He thought as he was reminded of who was at the end of that cord.

He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up. He looked at Pearlie and they both felt a smirk coming on. What in the world had these two created for themselves.

"We should catch up." Daemon's mischievous smile resurfaced.

Pearlie returned it, "Thought you'd never ask."

Daemon snapped his fingers and two chalices appeared in front of the pair filled with dark fluid. The pair laughed about their good fortune and the absurdity of their situation. Who knew being dead had its perks? The two caught each other up on current events. Since Pearlie was involved in Daemon's most recent exploits and nothing much else had happened for him Pearlie had the most to share. This involved mainly what the current situation in Hell looked like; some general politics, this castle that Daemon inherited through his Demon, and how he had traveled for a long time by himself when he first died. The topic clearly brought up some bad memories for him as the lines on his face crinkled slightly. Daemon wagered someone without their history wouldn't have even noticed.

"As I said, when I found out that you had fused with Valefar, it was easy to find your castle and just wait for your return."

"Hmm," Daemon mumbled.

"You didn't know who you fused with when you died?"

"No, to be honest, I never thought about it," Daemon confessed.

"Did you feel different when you transitioned?" Pearlie asked curiously.

"Absolutely. I feel stronger, I feel more like myself here." Daemon realized it when he said it.

"That's Valefar. Humans don't feel like that when they come here."

"Interesting. Any idea how to communicate with him?"

"Have you tried just talking with him?" Pearlie winced slightly as he stood. He walked through a different doorway and was gone.

For a moment, only Daemon remained in the common room. He thought back to the woman laying in his bed and was reminded of his hardening member. He knew where he would go next. And she would be waiting for him...