Deirdre lay in silence and shame, her blood soiling her sheets and her rapist's cum dripping from her sore pussy. Why couldn't he have killed her before he left? At least then she wouldn't be experiencing such guilt. Why did she have to enjoy him? She knew many women that fantasized about the daemon. But no woman would have wished for him to just take her innocence under threat of death and then leave. She was drowning in her heavy thoughts until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion.
Wrath appeared in the halls of the court of judiciary daemon. He walked briskly to His office. He burst through the doors in anger. His master stood up in surprise at the rude entrance. "What is the meaning of this, Wrath!"
"She was innocent!" Wrath roared back.
"Who was innocent?" His master looked confused.
"Deirdre, the woman you just sent me to kill. She could not have cheated on her husband when she still had her mark of innocence and no ring of belonging!"
"That is troubling," the sage justice daemon settled back into his chair, "The person who requested her death was not lying however. How can there be two truths?"
"He lied somehow," Wrath snorted.
"Could her runes be false?" His master questioned him.
Wrath looked at the floor. "No, her runes were not false."
"Were?"
"I was overcome," Wrath stated sheepishly, "Never before have I seen a mortal as beautiful as she, she was a virgin when I arrived at her apartment, but not when I left her."
"Fool! Do you know what you have done? Taking an innocent? You must make this right!"
"Kill me now as I give myself to your justice" Wrath knelt on the ground.
"Stand up!" The master fumed, "I am not going to kill you. I must think of what we can do. Go now and protect her, she must not have more wrongs done unto her because of your weakness. You may have a mortal wife if I cannot come up with a better solution."
Wrath bowed before his master and left his office. He materialized again at the corner of the street by Deirdre's apartment however he was not visible to the mortal eye. In his mind he was watching her lie in her bed. She looked confused and miserable. He was angry at himself, but more so he was angry at the position this false vision had put him in. He was still tired; he sat down and rested against a fire hydrant. Wrath let himself drift into something similar to sleep that daemon use for rest. Regardless he was still vigilantly watching Deirdre.
Deirdre woke up midway through the next day. She looked at the clock on her night stand. She had slept through all of her classes for today. Maybe last night was only a bad dream she wondered. She sat up in bed and felt soreness in her pelvis. She frowned, it was not a bad dream; it was real. Her reddish brown sheets stained with her dried blood were further evidence. She fumbled her way to her bathroom and into the shower. She turned the water to as hot as she could withstand and stood under the spray where she began to cry. When she felt calmer, Deirdre nearly emptied a bottle of soap onto a cloth and began scrubbing her body. The immortal's stench clung to her, stuck inside her nostrils, constantly reminding her of him, it was bittersweet. He was erotic and repulsive to her. She gingerly washed between her legs. It stung and though she wanted to wash inside of herself she dared not to for the pain.
After her shower she wrapped herself up in a large soft towel. She numbly sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her pillow, staring at the mess on her bed. Suddenly her telephone rang. Meekly she answered the phone.
"Deirdre! You never made it to class!" The voice on the other end answered.
