1 Sample (pre-written plan)

Amon sat leisurely on his throne. It wasn't long before he got bored.

The towering three-meter-tall demon directed his gaze at the corner of the hall to the left of him. There, just under a dozen human women were huddling in fear.

The area stank of faeces, urine and vomit due to the intense fear-stricken state they were in. Amon specially picked out these women due to their graceful figures, soft flesh and smooth skin. However, they were anything but graceful as they lay in their own excrement, shivering at the thought of what may come.

Amon slowly stretched his claws from resting on the arms of the throne into a position in which he would prop himself up from it. The movements were slow and grinding, his long and slender arms, which were covered in skin as hard as steel, seemed to grate as they moved.

His sudden activity caught the attention of one of the women who was so bold to rest in a position facing Amon. The others had their backs to him, as if they thought that if they pretended he wasn't real, he would suddenly disappear and their nightmare would end. However, that wasn't the case..

Seeing the grotesque demon slowly arising from his throne while directing an avaricious gaze her way, the woman froze up. She was too busy focusing on Amon's movements to make sure he wasn't coming her way to warn the others.

Now fully stood, Amon was a full ten feet tall. These petite women's eye height would only rest on his waist.

The massive but slender demon never broke eye contact with the woman matching his gaze. He could almost taste the fear he saw in her eyes. Fear of what he might do. Fear of pain. Fear of the future. He loved it. He wanted to bask in its comfort for all eternity.

Unknowingly, this fearful woman had greatly excited Amon, his pitch-black eyes fixated on her figure. Her slim and tender arms. He imagined how it would taste if he bit into her delicate neck as crimson blood flowed down his face.

As if revelling at the moment for too long, Amon slowly turned his body to face the woman. His long and malevolent horns stabbed into the sky with a graceful and picturesque curvature. If angels had horns, they would look like his. However, the abysmal black colour contrasted the beauty, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Only drawing you closer to bite off your head.

Seeing the demon's full attention on her, silent tears streamed from the woman's eyes. Her anguish was unconcealable. She had a once-beautiful white dress adorned on her shivering figure. It was now stained with tears and urine. Her long and smooth black hair that reached her waist was now plastered onto her scalp. Overall, the pretty white dress made her luscious black hair stand out and emphasised her beauty. It was a delicate kind of beauty, one to be protected and cherished with all one's power.

The wiry muscles wrapped around thick bone rippled and tensed as the demon took his first step toward the woman. The steps were soundless.

Four wings slowly outstretched from behind the demon. The action contained a sort of sacredness within the malice.

Suddenly, with a strong gale of wind, the huge wings lifted the demon off of the ground as he rushed toward the woman at a pace that would make the skin crawl. The flight trajectory made one think of a cockroach and incited immense fear in the woman.

Before she could scream, Amon landed in front of her while caving in the ground with residual force. Web-like cracks spread out and encased the area the woman was in as well.

She had fallen into his domain.

Amidst the horrifying screeches resembling vultures from the other women, Amon took hold of the woman's delicate arm and lifted her off of the ground for inspection. Grimacing from the pain of nearly being disjointed while softly weeping, the woman held her head down, too afraid to make a loud sound to incite the wrath of the predator before her.

A cruel smile slowly crept up Amon's face. She was perfect, too perfect. The feel of her snow-like skin. Softly squeezing her tender flesh, he felt the desire to devour arise within.

The four wings suddenly burst out with unprecedented power, taking the couple back to the throne in a breaths time.

Amon dropped the woman at the foot of the throne while sitting in it.

The other women had quietened down. After all, the fate of the chosen woman could very well be the same as their own.

Short breaths and timid weeping echoed within the hall that was consumed with fear.

With a cruel smile no sane being could adorn still painted across his face, the demon spoke.

"Come to me."

The target of the words jolted as a shiver went down her spine. "No... no...no. No! No!! Wahaha!" The woman answered as she succumbed to wails. The crying seemed to contain a plead for mercy as she rose her beautiful face to look at the demon. Her eyes that looked to be carved out of jade begged for mercy with all the enthusiasm her being could muster.

The demon had no change in expression as he observed the mysteries of what fear can do to a person.

After a short recess filled with the cries of a banshee, the same words echoed within the hall.

"Come to me."

Afraid of angering the demon if she remained stationary, the woman started to move with painfully slow movements. She slowly got to her feet, all the while displaying a feeling of 'will do anything to survive.'

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Seeing his pet listening to his instructions, the expression of the demon became milder as he spoke once more.


Grasping the intent behind the words, the woman walked up to the seated demon and struggled to climb his figure to place herself upon his lap. She was no longer crying as she sat upon the spacious lap of the huge demon. Touching him, she felt closer to him. She felt safer. Like a concubine of a murderous emperor would still feel safe in his embrace while they lay in bed.

A clawed hand moved with gentleness as it approached her face. She shut her eyes as she flinched, afraid of the sudden pain that might befall her. Her breathing roughened and sped up as she sat motionless in trepidation.

An object touched her cheek. It was as hard as rock while as cold as ice.

Opening her eyes, she saw the demon wiping away the tears that marked her face.

An indescribable feeling assaulted her. She didn't know what to think.

She thought that maybe her fate wouldn't be what she first envisioned it to be. Maybe she wouldn't end up a mangled corpse, she might even live to the end of her life.

Slowly, some of the fear and helplessness left her heart as a flicker of hope manifested within.

Ripe for the picking.

The second hand grabbed her roughly. Bones were fractured and splintered as the pretty white dress was savagely ripped from her body, exposing her milky skin and womanly curves.

Her body was flailed about like a doll in the arms of the demon. With no strength in her limbs, the woman freakishly moved about like she was already dead. It was as if the demon was playing with a human doll.

This expression. The woman's expression that was full of turmoil was savoured by the torturous demon.

It is time.

The thick neck wrapped in steely muscles jerked with power and blood soon followed. Crunching and squelching, in concert with dreadful screams, filled the hall.

With blood splattered across his whole face and upper body, the demon firmly held the headless corpse of the woman in his embrace. The scene, in a different circumstance, would resemble long-lost lovers suddenly meeting again.

The other women slowly turned quiet as the demon finished eating the head and buried his face within the gaping wound on the neck and drank the ample blood that was flowing outward.

The fingers and toes of the headless body would suddenly move from time to time as if a remnant soul filled with discontent was lingering.

Having drunk his fill, the demon turned his gaze to the smooth and flat stomach. Under the sharp claws, the smooth and soft skin was sliced open like butter.

His hand reached inside hastily as he firmly clung onto the intestines before ripping them out of the still-twitching corpse.

No less than two minutes later, a now-red demon sat back upon his throne with no traces of the woman to be seen. The pitch-black eyes were filled with satisfaction then drowsiness.

In his hand, a small blue soul the size of a bowl was trying to escape. It was the soul of the woman. He played with it for a while before throwing it into his maw. A look of euphoria arose on the demons face. It made the women watching wonder what a soul tasted like, for it to be able to create such an expression.

However, it wouldn't be too long before he got bored again.