Persephone's Demons Ch. 01-02

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Persephone's world is destroyed by a demon.
960 words
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Prologue

Persephone looked at her friends with the ouija board. She'd declined to join them, not because of some fear of the occult, but because it was nauseatingly cliché. Sarah began to chant a sumerian raising mantra whilst Zoe, Lorna and Felicity held on to the glass that would supposedly spell out the wishes, or otherwise, of the contacted demon.

They giggled and Persephone rolled her eyes, "you guys suck." A chorus of spoilsport themed protest came from the others which was cut short by Sarah pulling a knife out and cutting her two palms. She didn't miss a beat, kept chanting as blood dripped on the text below. "What the fuck?" Persephone asked no one in particular. The room chilled and, despite it being the middle of the night, was lit by an odd purple light of unclear origin.

Sarah's voice changed. Not for the better. She almost roared and her Sumerian, Persephone assumed, became perfect. She tried to move, but couldn't. The three other friends were seemingly frozen too. The wall next to them burst into flame with a black cleft at its centre. The aperture widened and a figure of flame and ash issued. The three screamed silently. The figure turned to the chanting unaware Sarah and broke her neck. Persephone tried to move, but felt her leg burn with an unspeakable intensity as a reward. Sarah was no burning with an impossible intensity wreathed in blue flame and then there was no Sarah. The three girls were plucked up by the figure as though they were inflatable toys and pulled through the cleft after the figure.

The room returned to normal, but a long way from normal for Persephone.

Chapter 1

That was five years ago, Persephone was now 23. She had spent a year institutionalised after the events which were known as the Whistle Beck disappearances. The mental facility was hard. Persephone knew what she saw, but no one was going to believe her. Why would they? It was insane. She spent her days swearing to a litany of doctors and patronising staff she was telling the truth. They would nod with concern and write on clipboards before leaving her with whatever pills would supposedly help her delusions. She'd then jog. Jog for hours at a time before returning to her room where she would be haunted all night long by the murder and kidnap of her friends by the demon. She needed to get out. She told people what they wanted to hear. She told them a group of three men had kidnapped all four friends and she had invented the horror story as a coping mechanism. She was released with a pharmaceutical payload and back to her parental home.

This was only a slight improvement. Her mother constantly fussed and tried to get her interested in study again, but she resisted and they argued. Her absent father would plead on the phone to much the same effect. This cycle continued on and off for two and a half years until an aunt died leaving money. Quite a lot of it which Persephone took and bought a modest flat in a bland part of London very far from her Parents in the Lake District.

She got a bar job and read all she could on demons, lore and related occultism. She wanted revenge.

Chapter 2

Persephone finished her morning 10km run. She pulled off her skin tight shorts and shirt, then her sports bra and finally kicking out of her underwear. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was 5 foot 9 and slender with defined muscles including visible abs thanks both to jogging and judo. She had short brown hair which she wore messily - which required effort! Green intelligent eyes framed by a delicate almost androgynous face. She was still heaving from the run, her small pert breasts glistening with sweat. Adorning her from her left foot, up her ankle and calf, thigh, left side of her stomach, hip, up her side, covering her left arm and shoulder and finishing at her neck was an elaborate tattoo. The tattoo was made of wards from a hundred languages designed to keep demons at bay. It had worked so far, but she was going to test this when set went to them. To seek out those that robbed her.

Persephone fell backwards to her bed, staring at her bookcase full of demonology and notice board with scraps from the internet of unexplained disappearances. She had a cupboard full of assorted items she thought she would need. She was going in two days. On Sunday.

Sweat still beaded and ran toward the bed, it was very hot this June. Persephone ran her hand down her midriff and felt the sweat. She thought about what was ahead of her and the buzz stirred her.

She clasped her breasts and pushed them up her chest, then squeezed pierced nipples making her gasp and curl her toes. She ran a hand down to her shaved vagina and lightly grazed herself with her fingers. It responded quickly, she felt herself moisten and part. She lightly massaged her lips as her other hand scraped down her side to her arse which she gripped and dug her nails in. "Bad girl" Persephone muttered and then squeezed her backside again before running a hand between her cheeks and pushing a finger in her ass. Persephone then opened her legs apart and played hungrily with her cliterous. Sweat and juices mixed as she writhed and arched her back. She added a finger to the one in her ass and then circling her clit with determined fingers until she came, groaning and panting. She got up to shower, she had business to attend.

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WiserSouthernerWiserSoutherneralmost 9 years ago
Great idea, but needs work

Things just seem to jumbled in this story, like a bunch of random thoughts just written down. There is no flow and therefore it's hard to connect with the writing. I think this is headed in a good direction and I mean to encourage you, but I do think some editing would be useful.

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