Freya Blight was awoken from a sound sleep as her attic's family mirror shattered unexpectedly. Hearing her raven Woden cawing out in distress she abruptly discarded her ages old quilt of respect and stepped her feet into her bunny slippers. Woodland made from real rabbits, head and all, whiskers twitching as if alive they were not exactly happy to be of service. Housecoat draped around herself, wearing a thin sheer nightie beneath, she shuffled to her ancient abodes staircase and hurried upstairs. Flashlight at the top awaiting she turned it on and discovered Woden flapping his wings frantically. Staring with his singular eye directly into the bone bound mirror it appeared as if it were punched at the center, its shards still attached but in a puzzle of infinite possibilities.
"Quiet, Woden! What has caused this?" She stepped closer to the large limb and rib framed mirror to see her reflection distorted by the splintering effect. "It appears as if it was shattered from within. Who could possibly have had the power to achieve such a... oh, dear!" Within her mirror she squinted over and beyond the thousands of tiny links to see an unexpected guest. "The Raven child!"
Within each and every facet stood Raven Mourn cringing as if apologizing. "I knew the first day I set eyes on that girl she would be the death of us all." With Raven's vision departing Freya now saw her own image in each chip. The only thing was her images were that of her younger days. Each chunk of splintered reflection had a different pose of Freya. From beaches to mountains, to deserts. Bikini's, parkas with nothing beneath, all sorts of erotic outfits. "She must know it was I in the taxicab that day at the Salem Towers when I was spying on her." Freya Blight was a slick one.
"My second life as supermodel Rhea Light is now in jeopardy. Damn! I was looking forward to my photoshoot in Norway." Her youthful images fading, she only spied upon her current persona. The less than appealing old crone Freya, she whom was a ripe old age of 94 in reality. While yes, she appealed to a 45-year-old version of herself to the everyday public to mask her true guise, she still preferred that hard body 23-year-old in her heart. Tired of seeing shards of her past lives she waved her hands over her mirror and reconstructed it. In doing so the blade of an Angel's sword stabbed through at her. Decidedly spry she sidestepped its advance and watched it pull back into the mirror and vanish. "She manipulates Angels. Of course, she does... HERetic!"
Woden still agitated as her back turned to the mirror frightened Freya into sensing a presence behind her. With eyes rolling she sighed heavily. "Please don't let her visit my home." Turning slowly, she discovered instead a deep shadow looming over her flashlight beam. A mighty hand with talons reached through her mirror without further breakage and encircled her body holding it tightly. Freya in her shock lost her grip over her flashlight allowing it to fall to the wood floor.
"You mask your devotion to me, Freya Blight. Just as all of your weakling Coven appears to be doing. How is it you side with the outcast over your Lord and Master?"
"I live to serve you, Oh, Darkevil! The girl manipulates what you see."
"Does she?" His snarl easing. "Perhaps! Prove your loyalty Witch. I have a mission for you."
"I shall gladly take upon the task." Released from his grasp his talons shredded her housecoat and nightie upon retreat, her naked body exposed to him. His palm posed as if to crawl upon it, a razor-sharp fingernail was guided upward between her legs. Piercing her vagina with precision the tip tickled her uterus making Freya roll her eyes back at the erotic sensation. In her supermodel persona she would often lay with handsome young men and sup upon their souls to assist feeding her master. That much she kept sacred. These days her true loyalty was waning in favor of a possible wildcard Messiah in Raven Mourn. A mistress of deception Freya could lie without notice.
"I still make you quite wet."
"Always Milord!"
"Shed your wrinkles and show me your imagination." He knew of Rhea... her last name Light, a dead giveaway that she had in a sense betrayed him. "Shine your... Light!"
"Only a name to entice men Your Majesty. My Light! Your Might!"
"Interesting! Convince me!"
Her flesh tightening, chest lifting to gravity defying perfection she lifts her hands into her long blond hair and rode his talons fingertip, blood weeping from miscalculated stance. Climaxing hard over his uplifting prowess she never once failed to be the seductress. Leaning forward to touch his actual palm she continued her gyrations knowing well that her body would heal from his inflicting razor like nail puncturing internal organs. In his Hamlet style lift she was four feet off the floor. Woden fell silent in his call to arms knowing that Freya had received the biggest arm of all. Watching with fear that the Darkevil would snuff out his own life Woden felt badly for his mistress. Even worse for his lost love now Nameless should the Darkevil turn his grasp upon her.
A second finger rising behind Freya/ Rhea lightly pierced her anus in a nail riding DP. Rhea was screaming bloody murder, her own arms flailing as he... dare it be said, nailed her. Multiple gore filled orgasms sent her body into chaotic spasm as she collapsed over his palm and kissed the blood flow of his wrist. Echoes of embedded souls were begging for freedom within his bloodstream, never missing a beat. With her respect paid he lowered her to the floor and stood her on her quaking bunny slippers. Freya hopped off; pun intended!
As his arm recoiled back into the mirror and abandoned this dimension his enlarged eye simply peered back at her. Freya falling to her hands and knees bowed. "How may I serve thee?"
"You shall perform a resurrection spell. One that binds those I wish to deploy to your pathetic Earth."
"Thy will be done! May I ask as to whom? For the spell to synch up with those you wish to be set free, I must know whom to call upon." She peered up through Rhea's sweaty Medusa like bangs.
"The SIbliNgS'!" The Children of Sin!
It all made senses now!
********
The Hector Alonzo Residence! Inhabited by the occult, the good ones... ehhh? Debatable!
Gwen Alonzo hobbled from the bathroom holding her back. Having to pee every hour on the chime was getting old. Even with her daughter Jody helping her along it was a chore. "Thank you, Honey!" Gwen hugged her only child from the side. Well, her only child to leave the womb. Jody fought hard to resist her own passenger using every ounce of willpower she had to cage her warrior Angel confined to her interior. Ikanunna was fighting viciously one minute, sympathetic the next. Their bondage together absorbing one another's emotions and characteristics. With Jody being the dominant, she was all that held her bitch back.
"I hope daddy and Brandon are okay." Jody pouted as her mother took a seat back on the side of the bed. "Not hearing from them is painful."
"Not as painful as carrying three babies. My worry is how the boys are coping inside the babies. If the babies are feeding off of them, they might not survive like they did in you and I."
"I wonder if Raven can communicate with them?" Without knowing it the Alonzo girls answered their own question of sorts. Raven's astral body had monitored the babies progress while the ladies slept. The problem was Raven herself; her physical body at least was too busy to know what her astral side was doing. Strange how that two-timing effort worked. The astral body did not appear to understand her physical realms situation. Heads or tails? Spinning on its side like her pentagram when it was one; not some other design making use of the goat's lines. Just like Vegas, a crap shoot! A slot machine she was!
"Honey? I think I'll need you to be the one to go to the funeral home."
"Do we even need too? With the morgue burning down daddy is already ashes."
