Hunted Ch 08

Disclaimer: This novella contains scenes of non-consent, bdsm, bloodplay. It contains gothic themes such as vampires, demons vs angels, and violence. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, hit the back button on your browser now! Still here? Okay... Then enjoy the naughty bits of my imagination.

-DannyGirl

*

Something was wrong...

The demon, known as Asmodion, mulled to himself as he watched the shadow fuck his daughter relentlessly. He had taken the mortal's body, Davik, captured Samantha, all for this purpose, to get her pregnant with a demon spawn. She should've been pregnant by now, but the demon seed was not taking.

The shadow grew more and more upset with each orgasm, each time he ejected his seed into her. He pounded into her more furiously with each failure.

Asmodion grew more restless as well: He could feel the vampire known as Darrien grow very close, via the psychic link he had hijacked from Samantha. Even worse yet, there was another presence closing in, something either heavenly or hellish in nature: Being hellish in nature himself he hoped it was the latter.

"Enough!" his frustration grew to its apex and he dismissed the shadow with a wave of his arm. Samantha fell from the air and limply to the ground, she trembled and convulsed with pleasure on the ground, her mind nowhere near reality, the aphrodisiac in the shadow's saliva still affecting her.

Asmodion wasn't particularly concerned with the vampire, no matter how old and powerful he may be, but something was amiss, something was wrong. He got up from his chair quickly and walked over to Samantha, watching her intently.

Why wasn't she pregnant? Where had his master plan gone awry?

***

Darrien ran through the empty warehouse district with haste: Samantha's scent grew very strong and he knew he was close. Unfortunately, her scent was nearly blocked out by a much stronger one, one immensely foul by its very nature. Obviously, it was the scent of the demon that had captured her.

An entire day had passed already: Darrien had to take cover underground until the sun had set before he could continue his hunt. He feared the worst, what horrors could the demon have unleashed on his beloved in that kind of time? It was times like this he especially hated being a vampire. If it were not for the fact that the sun would have burnt him to ashes in mere moments he could have reached Samantha a whole heck of lot sooner.

He approached a dilapidated, abandoned looking warehouse, Samantha's scent leading right inside. He stopped for a moment only to steel himself. He had never faced a demon before, and he knew he should be fearful, demons were not creatures to be trifled with: They had psychic abilities that could stop him in his tracks before he even got close. In fact, he wasn't really sure what the plan was: He hadn't even bothered to think about it before now. All he knew was that he would rather face his second death then let the demon have its way with his beloved Samantha.

And so he broke down the door to the warehouse and charged in without any second thoughts or any regrets...

***

Groggily, I wake when I hear the loud crashing noise. I open my eyes slowly, surprised to see the darkness is now gone, replaced again with the dreary abandoned warehouse my father was holding me captive. Everything is blurry though, and spins around me. Whatever drug I had been given is still affecting me, though not as strongly as before, and the after effects of the pleasure leave my body spent. It's difficult to focus my mind still, hard to focus on any one thought. I'm lying on the cold cement floor, still in the middle of the rune that traps me. Darrien... I mean the shadow, is gone now, to where I don't know.

I try to pull myself up off the floor to search in the direction of the noise that disturbed my slumber, but it is as if I am in a drunken stupor, I don't have the proper motor skills and I collapse once again on the floor. I manage to twist my limp body towards the ruckus, and I'm not sure for a moment if I can believe what I see.

Darrien is locked in battle with my father. I need to consider for a moment if it's really him this time, but I suppose the demon would not fight the shadow he referred to as his 'friend'. I never was able to put up a proper fight against Darrien, but my father was in an entirely different league of his own, so I couldn't even imagine my beloved vampire against that monster. Which is the second reason I'm not sure I can believe what I see: Darrien is holding his own, returning each blow by blow and standing toe to toe with his opponent.

Still, I remember the demon's psychic abilities, a talent he doesn't seem to be taking advantage of, and I worry greatly about Darrien's odds. Desperately, I try again to wrench myself off the ground again. I have to help him!

But as I fall to the floor once again a solitary tear drips from my eye: I cannot help him.

Darrien punches the demon square in the chest, vaulting him backwards against a wall. The demon quickly retaliates, pushing off the wall and jumping atop my beloved. Darrien rolls into the attack though, throwing the demon off of himself.

My worst fear is realized: The demon grows impatient with the fight, with a menacing growl he uses his psychic abilities to toss Darrien against the wall. Darrien struggles, trying to fight back against the unexpected attack, but his struggles are futile, my father's psychic abilities cannot be matched.

But something is wrong: I can see a trickle of blood running down the cheek of Davik's face, coming from his eye... Is it possible? The demon did say he could only exist in the mortal world for so long, was this limitation starting to show itself?

If so, now is my best chance to strike! If only I could get up off the floor...

Then, the unexpected: The door swings open and in steps Monica, the last vampire I expected to ever come to my rescue. But, I can tell right away: She is not a vampire, at least not anymore. How is that possible?

I try to yell out a warning to her, to stay away, to save herself, but only a meek cry escapes my lips. The demon does not hesitate, for some odd reason I can see a flash of fear in his eyes, but only for the briefest moment. He reaches out a hand towards Monica, and I can feel the sheer force of the power he throws at her ripple in the air, as if thunder struck and the electricity sparks in the room. I clench my eyes shut: Why did the demon use so much power against poor Monica? She couldn't possibly survive that kind of force! My curiosity gets the better of me and I slowly open my eyes to peek...

Monica's fine! In fact it doesn't appear as if she were affected at all. How is that possible!?

In fact, it doesn't appear as if she is concerned at all about my father, she is ignoring him completely and walking straight for me.

The distraction causes Darrien to break free and he uses the opportunity to run at the demon, punching him across the the face. The demon yells out, expressing his impatience and rage. He no longer cares about Monica and focuses his fury upon my beloved Darrien.

Monica kneels beside me, taking my head upon her lap. "It's alright," she whispers to me, as if to calm me. However, my eyes are locked on the love of my life engaged in the battle of his life with the monstrosity that I now should call father. Somehow, I cannot believe her assessment of everything is going to be 'alright'.

"Here." she smiles down at me, "I need to show you something." She presses her fingers up against my temple, and suddenly my blurry vision of the warehouse blurs completely to white. At first I can only hear sounds, echoes, but the images start to come to me slowly...

* * *

"Margaret, no," David turns to his beloved as he straps a crossbow to his back, "you mustn't be apart of this, there isn't much chance against this demon!"

"But, my love, that is why I must come with you, I cannot bear your needless death anymore than you can mine," Margaret responds, grasping his hand tightly, looking deeply into his eyes, begging him.

David? I realize quickly that the man I see before me is father David, the priest I worked under for so many years, the man who raised me as his own child, but, of course much younger in appearance. Margaret? I have no idea who she is, but she seems to be romantically involved with the father of our sect.

"Together, we stand a better chance than each on our own," Margaret continued to argue her case. They seem to be arguing about a demon: I hate to say it but if the demon is as strong as my father, they don't stand a chance. But David lived to be much older than he appears now so they must've beat the demon, right?

"You should listen to her, David," a new voice calls out into the room, and suddenly a man is there with them. Where did he come from? How did he get there? It was as if he came out of nowhere...

The man looks older, with white hair and white clothing draped loosely over his slender form. There is something oddly comforting about his appearance, in fact, he seems to resonate with alleviating energy and wisdom. His movements are graceful and deliberate. It's almost as if he glows with a holy light. There is something very obviously benevolent about this man.

"W-Who are you?" Margaret and David both draw swords, they are cautious about the stranger.

"Please children, I am a friend," he smiles at them in a very friendly manner, confidently stepping towards them carefully, but then he frowns, "but I bring sad tidings I am afraid: You cannot kill the demon."

"Then what?" David scoffs, "we let him run amok, unchecked?"

"Chaos is not his aim, not yet," the mysterious stranger reassures the pair of hunters.

"What do you know of him?" Margaret demands, her curiosity driving her forward eagerly. What answers can this strange man provide?

"His name is Asmodion. He is ancient and powerful. I am afraid he seeks something more horrible than you can possibly imagine," the man speaks solemnly, hanging his head a bit. "He seeks a child."

"A child? But why?" David asks, next to bewilderment.

"A demon such as Asmodion cannot exist on this mortal coil for long, fortunately. The body he has possessed will perish, sooner than later. A demon child born from of this world could survive here indefinitely.

"Wait," David ponders, "if he cannot survive here much longer than we need not do anything, he will perish on his own."

"Yes," the man agrees, reluctantly, "but, first, he will find what he seeks, he only needs a woman, any woman, sturdy enough to bear his child."

"Then we preoccupy him until he wears out, keep him from breeding," Margaret exclaims excitedly, assurde she onto the answer.

"No," the stranger denies her, "he is much too strong, you cannot last long enough against him."

"Then what would you have us do?" David begs.

"I have a plan," the stranger declares, but with little fanfare, "but I am afraid you are not going to like it, either of you."

A pervasive silence dominates the room for a few minutes, before David finally works up the courage to ask, "And what is your plan?"

The strangers words are filled with doom: "We give him his baby."

His statement is met with a collective look of shock from the hunters, both are rendered completely speechless. The stranger chuckles, "Let me explain." He pauses for what seems an eternity, "but first I am sure you would like to know who," he stresses the next part, "or what, I am."

From the man's divine appearance and gentle demeanor, Samantha is already pretty sure she knows the answer. His words confirm her suspicions, "I am an angel." Just as David and Margaret collected their countenance, the angel knocks them senseless again, and they once again cannot bring themselves to utter a single word. "I, like the demon, cannot last very long in your world, in fact since I have moral objections to possessing a human to breach the mortal world, I cannot last longer than a few minutes here. This is why I cannot fight the demon, but I cannot allow him to birth a demon into this world either."

"Margaret," he beckons to the hunter, holding out a hand, "I told you, you would not like this plan, and I'm afraid I was not lying." He sighs, pausing for a long while, his next words obviously pain him greatly, "You must have my child."

Margaret is taken aback, her eyes wide with a kind of reverence mixed with terror, "W-What!?"

"Asmodion will try and cut a deal with you: He will agree to descend back into the underworld for a time, until the baby loses its virginity to be exact. In return, he will want you to carry his child to term."

Margaret protests, with a stutter, "b-but I would NEVER agree to..."

The angel interrupts her, "You would I am afraid, to save your beloved David. Asmodion knows this is your weakness and he will use it to his advantage."

There is another long silence as Margaret considers the angel's words. He is right, she knows it: If it meant saving David's life, she would do anything.

"You will make the deal with him," the angel continues, "but you will be tricking him: He cannot impregnate you because you will already be carrying my child."

"Why your child?" it is David's turn to protest now, the thought of another man, even an angel, lying with his beloved Margaret drives him close to the breaking point. "What if she were to have my child?"

The angel lowers his head, David's agony weighing heavily upon him, "The child must be the son or daughter of an angel, because, Asmodion WILL return, when the child loses its virginity."

David, in complete denial, continues to protest, "then the child won't lose its virginity!"

The angel speaks softly, trying his best to calm the poor hunter, "but it will: You, nor anyone else can stop that."

David becomes really desperate, and he blurts the only thing that logically occurs to him, "then we kill the child!"

The angel smiles, warmly, "you will not be able to David, you are too good a man for that: One look at the child," he stresses his next words, "Margaret's child, and you will grow to instantly love it. Asmodion knows this, just as you do, search your feelings."

David stammers, he knows the angel is right, but he continues to fight against the pain the very idea causes him, "but why must the child be an angel?"

"Asmodion's plan will be to breed his child. Only a half-demon will be able to breed a full demon in the mortal world. He will not be able to impregnate a half-angel. Also, only the child of angel will be able to stop Asmodion when he returns: The child will be the only hope to stop him once and for all."

"I will do it," Margaret declares, calmly, confidently, the resolve showing clearly in her mannerisms as she takes the angel's hand.

"There is one more thing, I am afraid," the angel pauses again, more pain mirrored in his countenance as he clasps Margaret's hands firmly, "you will not survive the birth, Margaret."

Margaret closes her eyes, hanging her head, and taking a deep breath. "That is unfortunate," she pauses, "but to save David, I will do anything."

"No!" David cries out, "there has to be another way!"

Monica lets go of the angel's hand and grabs ahold of David's with one hand and with the other touches David's chin lightly. "It's okay, David. I want to do this."

"I can't lose you," a tear streams down his face.

"I know," she stiffles a sob, the emotion cutting her deeply as well, "but this is the only way."

"Please..." David begs.

"It's okay, there will be our child," Monica smiles, despite her tears, at the thought of her baby boy or girl.

"Our child?" David frowns, he WISHED it was his child.

"You'll have to raise it, by all rights you will be the father," Monica presses up close to her beloved, and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.

David chuckles a bit, thinking now, too, of the child he will raise. "Alright," he sniffles, "I will raise OUR baby, but you have to name it."

Margaret ponders for a moment, swaying in David's strong arms. "How about? Nicholas if it's a boy, and Samantha if it is a girl?"

***

Samantha... Their child's name is Samantha.

Somehow, I knew it was coming, the biggest revelation of my life: How long I had yearned to learn who my mother and father were, and now I know. My mother's name is Margaret, a hunter who had loved the priest who had raised me as his own child. And my father... My father is an angel of heaven, and not the demon Asmodion, after all.

I laugh and cry with joy at the thought: I had come to accept Asmodion as my father and the thought that I was a half-demon was literally tearing me apart. But, no, I am a half-angel, born from a creature of good, not one of evil. I cannot even describe how relieving that is!

The vision ends, fading to white just as it had begun, and before me I see the smiling face of Monica. The vision she had shown me, a vision no doubt passed to her from my real biological father, had lasted only the briefest moment in reality, even if it felt like much longer.

"My father..." I'm still not over the wonderful shock of this new revelation, murmmering half to myself half to Monica.

"...Was an angel," she beams down at me, finishing my sentence.

"Oh! Monica, I'm so sorry," I leap up, suddenly full of vigor and life, and hug her tightly. "I'm sorry about William, it's all my fault!"

She grabs me, and rips me away from her gently, gazing into my eyes so I know she is telling the truth, "I forgive you, and I'm happy for Darrien and you."

"How did you find me?" I have so many questions buzzing through my head: How is it she a human now? She must've met my father, what is he like? Why hasn't he ever come to see me? But for whatever reason, that is the first question that popped out of my mouth.

"The rune on your hand blocks your father from finding you, since the rune is demonic and he is an angel," she explains, "but since I'm human, well now that is, he gave me a rune of my own, one that can track yours and protects me from the demon's psychic abilities."

"Your human..."

"Thanks to your father," she smiles at me.

Suddenly, our reverie is broken as Darrien hits the floor, sliding across it, reeling from a punch from Asmodion. Darrien launches himself back onto his feet and runs at Asmodion again, still able to fight, but I can tell he is hurt and wearing down quickly, he cannot beat the demon, at least not on his own.

"Darrien!" I cry out, "quickly, Monica, the rune on the floor, break it, I have to help him."

She nods quickly, understanding my instructions perfectly. She rubs at the rune on the floor: It was drawn from blood (Davik's most likely) and has dried, making it difficult to rub off. All she needs to do is break one line and the rune will fail, and I will be free.

Asmodion realizes what is happening, however. "Enough of this!" he shouts at Darrien, grabbing him by the throat. Darrien struggles against his grasp, but is unable to break it. For a moment I don't worry, Darrien doesn't need air, but then I hear crunching noises and realize Asmodion is snapping Darrien's throat!

I cannot help him, however, still trapped in the rune as Monica frantically tries to break it. Darrien's body goes limp, and with a smirk Asmodion tosses his body aside. Quickly, he dashes at Monica, and I try to yell out a warning to her, "Look out!" Asmodion picks up a sword off the floor, not even slowing down to grab it. Monica turns to face him, but it is too late: Asmodion runs the blade straight through her chest...

Monica's blood splatters on the rune.

"No!" I cry out. The joy I had felt only a few moments ago is replaced with a white hot rage. I've just watched this monster murder my lover and my friend...

"Asmodion..." I growl.

"H-How do you know that name?" a look of surprise flashes over his face.