A desert warrior kicked his camel in the belly to urge the recalcitrant beast to more urgent speed. He wore long, clean robes of purest white that swayed around his sand-crusted boots as he rode the reluctant ungulate hard on the heels of his target. He carried a pathetic gun and an ineffective sword at his sides with the proud bearing of a doomed man. The bearded bedouin mistakenly thought himself the hunter tonight but he would discover tragically too late that he was the Beast's intended quarry for this evening. The Beast revealed her presence to the holy warrior from a distance before concealing herself and masking her scent. She led the brave but foolhardy warrior on a futile chase across miles of desert all while she slyly doubled back around and flanked him from the south.
The hardened warrior wore his black beard and hair long and unkempt to conceal handsome, almost feminine features that proved a constant and unwelcome distraction before he converted and became a religious man. His face and skin were tanned dark brown after years spent beneath a harsh desert sun surviving in sparse, unforgiving conditions. Despite the wear and tear of the arduous life he'd chosen, the warrior's eyes were so dark and beautiful and his facial structure so delicate he sometimes appeared to be wearing the makeup of a painted woman.
The holy man belonged to an ancient religious order that with the blessing of several generations of Jordanian monarchy had claimed this desert as their home for centuries upon centuries. The sect spent all their hours working and praying day after scorching day in one of the most inhospitable environments known to mankind, fervent in their belief that suffering and hardship would lead to ultimate salvation. This warrior had been sent by his mullah to investigate dread rumors of a fell beast that stalked the sands of their ancestral homeland during the night.
Recently, livestock owned by peasants living in the impoverished villages nearby had been slaughtered indiscriminately but strangely they were never consumed. Not even the many scavengers of the desert dared to pick at the dessicated corpses of these shredded goats and sheep. The strewn-apart bodies left behind deep, claw-like gashes and bite marks that originated from some creature unknown. Innocents had disappeared from their homes without a trace as well and anyone caught alone in the desert after dark was never seen again. Despite his strict religious beliefs, Abdalrahman al-Saqit was not a superstitious man. Normally he would have dismissed these stories as the baseless fears of a poor, primitive people but this case aroused his suspicion for reasons he couldn't quite express to the other peers in his sect.
Abdalrahman hopped gingerly off his camel and tucked the pleats of his robe back while he spent a moment of rest. He gulped a long drink of water from the bladder hanging at the pommel of his beast of burden's saddle before replacing the stopper. While he drank, al-Saqit's sharp eyes scanned across the endless hills of sand with sight aided by the blessed moonlight.
Abdalrahman was certain he saw something moving out there earlier, prowling obliviously amongst the still dunes. The shape he glimpsed hiding in the shadows was dark and monstrous yet still vaguely human in appearance. Al-Saqit was renowned amongst his order for being able to track a hare across miles of desert but whatever this thing was, it had thrown Abdalrahman off its trail.
When he heard a noise from behind, Al-Saqit spun around quick as a desert cat and lifted his aged AK-47 from his hip with his finger the merest twitch away from depressing the trigger. The sighing voice he heard was little more than a whisper on the wind but it almost sounded like a woman plaintively calling his name. But when he turned and aimed his weapon, Abdalrahman found nothing there. No sound except the pounding of his heart against his chest. Despite the day's lingering, oppressive heat which still refused to surrender to the relief of night's chill, Abdalrahman shivered.
Abdalrahman hated the camel that he rode in on so much that he named it Osama after that idiotic and faithless mass murderer. The hatred must therefore be mutual since Osama started stomping its hooves and bleating fearfully before trotting off into the desert like a coward. Abdalrahman cried out in alarm and began to give chase but the stupid beast easily outran his futile attempts to keep pace with it. The foolish animal had never behaved in such a way before despite its idiocy. Now Abdalrahman had a dangerous, miles-long waterless trek through the desert to look forward to. What could have provoked such a sudden and unexpected reaction from the well-trained beast?
Al-Saqit cursed the stupidity of animals as he whipped back around in a fury only to find the answer to the question of his mount's desertion. Standing only a few paces away, the Ifrit possessed a distinctively feminine figure with large, shapely twin bulges growing from its chest, wide, flaring hips meant for bearing children, and throat-clenchingly perfect curves narrowing and widening from the monster's torso on down to its slim waist and thighs. The prominent vee between the creature's legs strongly resembled a woman's vagina if female organs were instead drooling maws of sharp needle-like teeth that leaked thick black mucous from their slimy opening.
A chill passed through Abdalrahman as he quickly raised his weapon up to his sight. Abdalrahman considered himself a brave man but the terrifying sight of this demonic creature slowly approaching him as the moon illuminated its horrific profile from behind and its heavy claws pounding the sand beneath its taloned feet caused Abdalrahman's knees to quake and his spine to shiver. Even more distressing for the chaste warrior-priest was the fact that Abdalrahman had never seen a woman naked before and now he was viewing a feminine monster that wore no covering over its private areas. Even as his bowels turned to ice, al-Saqit experienced an unfamiliar tugging sensation in his crotch as blood flowed unbidden to his flaccid genitals.
Besides its face and that one soft, moist location between its legs, a red-and-black shell-like carapace armored the entirety of the creature's skin. A long, lashing red tail waved back and forth playfully between the Ifrit's slim, muscular thighs. This prehensile appendage was lined with barbs that gradually increased in size and keenness before finally resolving into a long, wicked curved spike that grew from the end of the Beast's tail. Sharp black horns curled out of either side of the Beast's scalp and twisted their way down to highlight eyes which were as black and depthless as the creature's hellspawned soul. The Beast's hands and feet were enormous, razor-sharp claws with deep, sinuous black lines running along where its veins and tendons should be. Hard, spindly yellow hairs grew from the Ifrit's scalp like wires that fell down the creature's back to its waist. A disturbingly gorgeous red visage with smooth, dimpled cheeks and full black lips hinted at the striking beauty the demon possessed beneath its evil, twisted form.
Abdalrahman brandished his AK and prepared to fire upon the nightmare horror advancing toward him. The Ifrit lifted its claw in his direction and as its fingers curled tightly together the metal of the gun al-Sadir held instantly heated to such a degree that the weapon glowed bright red. Abdalrahman screamed and dropped the gun as his fingers and palms blistered instantly. As the demon continued its methodical approach, the desert warrior wrapped his ruined hands in cloth and drew his scimitar in desperation. The Beast seemed amused by this gesture.
Abdalrahman screamed a prayer to Allah as he rushed toward the demon with his sword readied in an offensive stance. Of the members of his sect, al-Saqit was by far the deadliest and most skilled in the use of a blade. It was like he had been chosen precisely for this sort of test. But when Abdalrahman attacked the demon she used the unnatural shielding of her arms to easily block aside every slash and thrust of his sword. Blow after blow shot off sparks as each of his attempts to penetrate the Ifrit's impenetrable skin glanced harmlessly off her armor. She screamed and laughed like an insane girl-child as she toyed with Abdalrahman for awhile but eventually once she grew weary of his senseless and ineffective violence her claw reached out to snatch al-Saqit by his throat.
Abdalrahman lifted his weapon high to strike one final blow before the claw around his neck could squeeze his life away or simply rend his throat apart. But his strength failed him during his downward slice and the edge of the scimitar barely cut through the armor of the Beast's shoulder before she grabbed the blade of his weapon and tore it painfully from Abdalrahman's scorched hands. Without even scratching her claw the demon wrapped its palm around the edged portion of the sword and then flung it far and high through the air so the sword spun and then fell point-first and became buried nearly to the hilt in the soft sand.
Abdalrahman thrashed helplessly and struck futilely at the demon's arms as she pulled him so near that he could smell rank breath scented by the taste of countless human corpses. He stared straight into the demon's eyes and became lost within the fathomless abyss of those twin pools of darkness. The warrior's eyes turned blank and drool dripped from his mouth to his chin as all conscious thought evaporated from his mind. The Beast's mouth widened into a horrifying razor-toothed grin as al-Saqit ceased to resist her. The same black slime of corruption that leaked from every opening of the demon's body seeped between the creature's pointed teeth and poured down from its mouth in rivulets as the Ifrit smiled maliciously at its conquered foe.
