A Perfect Cleansing

She stood atop the hill, staring down at the vision of untouched perfection. Innocence dwelled in the humble abodes scattered about the town, and it disgusted her. Azertia felt in the mood to destroy it. To perfect it in the ways of doom and destruction, to watch the birth of flames reign over the green and blooming hillsides. Her loins quivered at the thought of listening to the last, sweet, catching breath of a dying man. Her nipples hardened as she imagined the feel of warm, freshly spattered blood sprayed across her inner thighs. She knew what she wanted, and she would get it. It would happen...

Her needs would not be denied, and she would deny her Lover nothing. After a few moments, the air before her vibrated with a warm energy. The silhouette of a man appeared after a few moments. He stood beside her in the form of a black aura, his whispering taunts and urging made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The very thought of fucking him matched her need to rid the realm of this dullness, it's normalcy simply disgusted her. Azertia's body cried out to him in the form of shivers and tiny beads of sweat which appeared in the valley between her breasts.The sheathed weapon at her hip hummed with readiness, its rune etched blade glimmering with each heated breath she took.

Closing her eyes, she thrust the sword into the air and cried out, "Caelum, Absorbeo Vita!"

With a gentle flick of her wrist, her blade caused the atmosphere to become malleable. She became the sculptor of all existence, the artist of their dreadful end, and the bringer of necrotic allure. The ground began to shake beneath her feet, and the horizon began to glow in red and orange hues. The clouds darkened overhead, and thunder rolled...that is when she heard his voice.

The voice of her lover, reigning Darkness. "Do away with their selfish ways, dishonor and political endeavors. Show them what it is to be without the bindings of a mortal coil! Do not fail me, Azertia...or else it will be you that feels what it is to be in the path of my unrelenting rage!"

"As you wish, my Lord." She gazed longingly at his aura, even as it vanished away slowly.

She lowered the blade to the ground, and ran her hands deftly across her partially exposed breasts being sure to squeeze each for her own pleasure, pulling at her nipples roughly, twisting them in time with her partially excited breathing. Just as she touched and stroked the delectable apex at her thighs, she let her eyes drift shut, imagining the searing heat of her Lover pressing between her thighs. Taunting her senses, picturing him in human form. Azertia imagined his broad shoulders and the claw marks she would leave on them, how she would let him take her from behind while pulling her hair, the screams he would cause her to release...

The pink of her tongue darted out to slicken the plumpness of her crimson lips. She muttered words of taunt and mischief over the winds, willing them into the ears and minds of the unknowing townfolk. Each sultry, whispered syllable would pass through the ears of the common man. Each word inflicted the desire to kill...kill...kill everything, everyone. She did not dare bring herself to orgasm, although the intoxicating scent of her would flow on the wind.

The sweetness of her would remain in the senses of those inflicted by her wicked charms, driving them mad. Alas, Azertia felt it right to grip the erotica she felt at it's reins; she felt it needed to become one with the rising tension in the air. One and one together, agony and unsated ecstasy in the palm of her hand, the blink of her eyes and in the whispered command of her choice. This was her ultimate torture, to deny her sexual needs. And how they would feel the wrath that dwelled deep inside of her. She teased her slick opening with a slender finger, inserting one slowly, letting an evil grin spread across her lips as she heard the screams and cries from down below. She whispered, then spoke louder, willing her voice to flow over the town.

"I will bring you pain...I will bring you release from such mortal ailment! Look upon yourselves! All of you...every single loathsome, blackened soul hides many a tenderly devilish thing. I shall release your penance onto your streets and kin. I will show compassion through my actions, and hope that none of you return from the fiery depths, of where I shall send you... "

Moments would pass, and the scent of death would linger around her nostrils. Azertia took in a long, deeply satisfied breath at the looming air of burnt and decaying flesh, relishing in her work of art. The reality of their impending doom hit her like a bolt of lighting, and overwhelmed her senses with such a warmth the weapon at her feet took on a red hue. She began to toy with her own flesh quicker now, desperate to feel her flesh pulsate with a wetness only her Lover could induce. Within moments her orgasm came, as did the fiery rain and lightning bolts. Opening her brightly colored hues was a feat; her lust would now be at a great level, so high that it needed to be done with, 'lest she become...angry.

She would look upon the wasted, ashed and corpse-laden land with a gleam of drunken-euphoria in her passion glazed eyes. The corners of her lips would perk upwards into a demonically sultry grin, satisfied with her necrotic work of art. The hill she stood upon looked over the once buzzing settlement of people...though it buzzed no more. Flies and maggots replaced the eye sockets of the once living and breathing humans. Their rotting genitalia and appendages served as delectable appetizers for the scavengers' meal, followed by a limp-bodied torso or twitching limb. Silence rang harmoniously in the air. Nothing moved, no one spoke. Homes, places of business, people all that once went about their daily routine lay lifeless, unused and dead. Decaying. Beauty, in her eyes.

Cleansed of perfection...