The Fall Of Wrath Ch 01

"You have a new slob to kill, sir," a balding gnomish man bowed handing a tall dark man an envelope.

"I thought I was done for the night," the dark man growled snatching the envelope.

"Apologies, sir, I am merely the messenger. He personally sent for you."

"He did, eh?"

"There is a reason you are called Wrath, sir," again the small messenger bowed and skittered off into the darkness, vanishing into mist.

Wrath growled to himself, he turned around and surveyed his recent kill. The floor of the warehouse was soaked with blood and the victim was dismembered, body parts strewn about the room. The drug dealer he had just slaughtered was supposed to be his last mark of the night. As a daemon, Wrath couldn't be killed by mortals but he was tired, his business never seemed to end.

There was so much sickness in the world and it was Wrath's duty to slaughter the wicked. He was weary of the bloodshed. He was not the only daemon charged with this duty but he was the best, best in that he had an artistic, professional, signature way to butcher his marks that pleased those that requested the execution. He was an assassin of evil from the spirit world. His home on the other plane of existence was inhabited by daemon, immortals that were tasked with tending to the care of the mortals by the gods. Wrath was not evil but he was shunned by his own kind. He was considered a dark daemon, one of the daemon who dealt with the lesser pleasant tasks that were punitive of the mortals, such as curses.

Wrath opened the envelope and looked down at the name on the parchment.

Deirdre

In his mind he could see her location and what she was accused of, the man who requested her death was devastated by her salacious affair with a much more attractive man. Wrath could see and feel the husband's thoughts of her cheating and the arguing. Wrath did not agree with this reason for death but the justice daemon had approved it and requested him. This Deirdre was beautiful. In his mind he watched through the husbands eyes as he spied on Deirdre undressing for her lover. Her skin was like porcelain; soft and smooth. Her long straight flame colored hair was in bright contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes were a vibrant emerald green. Freckles decorated her nose and her shoulders. She let her dress down off those freckled shoulders and fall to her waist. Her full round breasts exposed to her lovers hands. She had small pink nipples which her lover pinched and flicked with his fingers. The image was blurry in Wrath's mind and he did not understand why. He shook his head and cleared his mind. Regardless he had one more kill tonight. He did not want to waste his time.

Wrath disappeared from the warehouse only to rematerialize in the dark shadows of Deirdre's apartment. Deirdre was asleep on the bed in her room. The soft glow of the moon shone on her. Wrath silently crept up on her raising his sword to strike. She was even more beautiful through his own vision. Wrath shocked himself to realize he was so affected by a mortal's beauty. Something bothered him however. She did not look quite the same as how her husband saw her. Wrath gently pulled away the blankets that covered her, revealing her bare body. The runes that mortals magically tattoo on their skin are put there for many reasons, most are protective sigils. However women are given a rune as infants that prove their innocence in order to attract men to marry them.

He was right, that was what was bothering him, in the husband's vision, Deirdre still had the rune signifying her virginity. He hadn't realized that it was there until now. Deirdre, lying in her sleep, clearly had the rune in its official spot above her collarbone. Wrath lowered his sword. He watched her quietly thinking. How could she be guilty if she was still untouched? He gently lifted her hand, she did not have a ring of belonging on her finger. His gaze drifted to her breasts. They also were sexier in person; they were smaller but still a very appealing size. Her breasts were also less perky but only due to being the size they were, they were still firm. His pants felt tighter as his loins warmed. He realized why the vision had been blurry, the vision was not real it was invented. Deirdre's hand jerked out of Wrath's hold. Instinctively he raised his sword. Wide eyed Deirdre stared at Wrath.

He placed the tip of the blade at her throat. "Tell me why someone would want you dead?" he eyed her suspiciously; his eyes could not help but stray downward, lustily working to engrain the image in his thoughts forever. In his mind he cursed her for sleeping in the nude.

"I don't know!" She managed to get out. Her breasts heaved with her panicked heavy breathing, her nipples erect with the cold air in the room. Her smooth taught stomach was clenched tight in fear. "Please," she begged, "Please don't kill me!" Tears welled in her eyes. The vibrant green eyes were darker in the moonlight, they were wide in fright and despite the terror in her face she was lovely. Her lips were full and her mouth was all to inviting for Wrath. Lust for the first time was overwhelming for Wrath. He dropped his sword on the floor but moved his hand to her throat to prevent her from escaping. Her skin was soft and warm to his touch, "Mortals are so weak, so soft, so delicate," he thought to himself.

Deirdre turned her face away from Wrath's gaze squeezing her eyes shut trying to block out the situation. Wrath moved his other hand down to her breast firmly squeezing it. Deirdre gasped at his touch. She did not think it was possible but her nipples hardened further. Her eyes flew open again as his tongue circled her nipple. She dared look at him again. The daemon was handsome, although most immortals were. He wore a black t-shirt that was skin tight and fitted black jeans. His muscled arms were covered in runes and other sigils. He had long wavy black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He looked up from her breast catching her staring at him.

"I may still kill you," Wrath warned her, "That is after all why I am here." His hand trailed down her abdomen towards her pussy. Deirdre tried to retreat from his touch. She was clearly frightened of him, but her body instinctively reacted to his unwanted touch. She held her legs together as his fingers ran through her fiery pubic hair. Wrath worried internally, "I cannot kill someone I think is innocent but how do I disobey my master? How does a mortal smell so delicious?" Wrath took Deirdre's chin in his hand and looked her deeply in the eyes. "Don't struggle, you will not escape me if you tried."

She trembled as both of his hands wandered back down to her legs. Wrath opened her legs to him. His fingers delicately separated her pussy lips, he lustily inspected her intact hymen. His face moved in closer, drawn to her. Deirdre began to cry as he rubbed his finger against her clitoris and his tongue hungrily flicked against her hymen. She did not however resist him. She was disgusted at herself for feeling the pleasure from his tongue. Wrath's cock was bulging against his pants and he unzipped himself to relieve the pressure. She tasted like no other woman he had ever bedded, granted this was the first mortal he would take, but her delicate scent and sweet taste intoxicated Wrath. He stood and pulled out his hard cock, it was throbbing and begging for release.

"Don't cry," Wrath whispered in Deirdre's ear as he moved to kneel between her legs. He kissed her neck and lifted her firm, round bottom off of bed up to his thick cock. He pressed the head against her pussy lips. He rubbed himself against her. Despite Deirdre's fear of this daemon, she hoped that perhaps with this new interest in her, he would not kill her. Her body acted of its own accord and her clitoris hardened by his cock's touch. Wrath straightened, looking down on Deirdre. She was no longer crying but had her eyes squeezed shut. Wrath could hardly stand waiting, watching her, smelling her, and feeling her. Firmly gripping both ass cheeks he pushed himself inside of her. Deirdre cried out in pain as her hymen tore from the pressure Wrath's cock was placing on it. He pushed himself deep inside her. Her pussy clenched in pain and Wrath gasped in pleasure from the intense tightness as her pussy squeezed his thick throbbing cock. Wrath knelt there between her legs just letting himself feel her pussy surround his cock. Slowly he pulled himself halfway out of her, blood coating his cock dripping down her ass cheeks. He groaned as he thrust hard back into her, and again.

Deirdre clenched her teeth and fought back tears with each painful thrust. She tried to push Wrath from her, her hands desperately shoving against his chest. He was huge inside of her, granted she had been a virgin, but Wrath's cock was much larger than your average mortals. Her pussy was not built for an immortals lust. Each thrust has equally as hard as the last and it made her whole body ripple from each brutal slam into her.

"It will not hurt forever," Wrath tried to comfort her. With his fingers he rubbed her clitoris and he found despite her hymen tearing and the pain it was still rock hard. He lessened his thrusts and focused on Deirdre. He knew what he was doing was wrong but in truth he wanted her to want him as badly as he wanted her. He could see the confusion wash over her face as she experienced pleasure instead of pain. Her pussy, as tight as it was, clenched his cock now in desire. She opened her eyes for the first time since he penetrated her and looked deep into his eyes. Deirdre was still frightened, but the immortal's touch was the most incredible sensation she had ever felt. He did not have to rub her clitoris long when she cried out in pleasure this time with her first orgasm. Wrath began to thrust into her again, this time her face reacted positively, her pussy enjoying his monstrous cock's deep slams.

Still Deirdre turned over and buried her face in her pillows in shame when he finished and let her drop to the bed. His cock hung, still thick but limp, above her ass, cum and blood dripping on her.

Wrath's lust had been satiated for the moment and regret started to wash over him. He bent over and picked up his sword. He zipped up his pants and stood. He sheathed his sword and cleared his throat to get her attention. Deirdre ignored him wishing now he would just slay her and be done with her. She was having a hard time with her feelings about what had just happened. Wrath turned from her in his own shame and disappeared into the darkness.