Chapter Twenty-One: Blue Hibiscus

: WARNING :

: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT :

Catherine,

Kansas City,

"Jack! My man! What the hell happened to you? Damn it wake up," Man yelled, shaking his limb friend, unable to bring him back. His mouth was wide open, and his eyes rolled back in his head while his pants hung below his ankles. Another man behind him, a bearded person, pulled his pocket knife from the prostitute for the third time. But to his surprise, the smile didn't go away.

"You boys need to wait for your turn, you know," the prostitute said as she grabbed his wrist, twisting and snapping the bone. The man screamed, and the prostitute continued, throwing him back with inhuman strength into the wall beside the other men. A loud thud and a soft, wet splatter echoed in the dark alley as the back of the man's head caved in, and he lay still.

The only remaining one, frozen still before the evil lurking behind him. A smiling figure in the black dress was bleeding from all over the stomach, unfazed. But as soon as I stepped into the alley, she brought her attention towards me, turning around with a gasp, glaring at me with those black sunken eyes and a bloodied black dress.

"You, You! They are looking for you!" the demon said, ignoring the man behind her, who took his chance and ran for it. I moved my foot back, pushing my hand into my coat pocket and inserting the fingers into the knuckle's holes. "Oh? Say, which one, the whores or the bastard?" I replied, giving it a mocking smile.

It twisted the corpse's face in anger, then sprinted at me with inhuman speed. It was in a second, but I began the prayer "Oecrimi il Congamphlgh." Hunched down and timed it just perfectly with a hook straight to the face. The body flew up, with the jaw caving inwards from the impact of the silver knuckles breaking its momentum. It fell on its back, still shaken and confused as to what had happened.

But before it could make sense, I took a knee and grabbed its face by the bloody stump of a mouth. "Ialpon il Evil," I said in the second verse, and I felt the burning fire in my eyes and mouth that traveled down to my hand. With a sudden hint of fear, the demon attempted to dig its nails into my arm, barely passing through the coat's sleeve.

"Release il Madrid," I said in the final verse, and the corpse's eyes shot out holy light. The body trembled at first but quickly went limb as the light faded. The corrupted soul is burnt to nothingness, and the body quickly begins rotting.

I stood up, shaking off the dust from the edges of my coat, as the sudden blue and red light shadowed my person. Two police officers shot into panic, seeing the scene in front of them. Unveiling their handguns and warning me to stay still.

...

The thing remained still with the sound of a clock ticking. It had been a few hours since they took me to the station, where I sat there quietly, left to my own thoughts.

The world was going to hell, while somehow the demons were escaping like ants. Nothing about this made any sense. Regardless, the Saint had not spoken yet, but I did hear about a meeting soon coming up. Although I was still lost with holes in my memories, nothing was clear about what happened at LA. It had felt like a dream, suddenly allowing him to accompany me, being warm against him, or coming into contact with Asmodeus.

Not sure what had come over at that time, but now I wanted to find him. I could deny it, but I wasn't looking for him just for answers.

Once I was given the clear, the officer who brought me suddenly referred to me as "miss" with cowardice. While collecting my personal belongings, I realized they were keeping their distance and avoiding eye contact with me. They probably took a glance at the disfigured corpse that was beside me and the blood that was on my hand.

I left with a feeling of melancholy, placing a cigarette in my mouth and lilting it up. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with burning smoke and relaxing my mind. Now I needed to find him and then head to the meeting.

...

Mortise,

Kansas City,

Let me set this scene, Blue Hibiscus flowers frolicking under a kitchen window slit, a blushed check girl twirling her finger through their petals. Blackish blue hair pulled back with a hair braided and humming a country tune. Behind her, a woman, supposedly her mother, a Burnette wearing a classical polka-dotted apron.

On a sunny day at a countryside ranch, crops bountiful under the beating sun and a house smelling of baked bread and poppy seeds. A road scratched endlessly on the front side, shimmering underneath the bright sun. An old convertible appeared on the horizon, tumbling towards the ranch.

Out came the man of the house, utterly irrelevant to the crux of the dream. The loving wife and a bright daughter welcomed him inside, but my eyes paned upward to the burning sky. Three towering figures loomed overhead, their wings covering the sky in every corner. These mindless yet powerful guardians look out and stand tall.

...

Maybe I should not be seeing this without her consent, but I was lost at the prospect of why I was having a dream like this. She felt so different from the rest; it had been so long since I had felt sober.

Contrasted against the depravity in front of me, who I held by the ass cheeks. Pulled and pushed her body back and forth. Her breathless moans kept on getting harder while her mouth remained hanging. The bedside lamp shook while the bed squeaked uncontrollably.

A brownish blond with olive skin, and where did I find her? Who the fuck cared? Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, and her body smelled of a deep additive odor. Soon, she quickly latched onto my shoulder, digging her nails into my skin and pulling her face into mine.

She pushed her tongue down, deep into my throat. The moment felt like a drug, blending together as I felt myself coming to an end. I took my hand off her ass and grabbed her by the waist, and pushed her onto the bottom side of the bed. This surprised her, but she smiled nonetheless, licking the dripping off the side of her lips.

I quickly felt her waist with my hands, tracing the soft tan skin towards her perky tits, groping them tightly in my hand, causing her to moan while I thrust upwards. With each thrust, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. In between constant moans, my hand went up underneath her jaw, taking hold of it while I supported myself by the bed.

It felt like she had cast her spell on me when I first laid my eyes on her. It was like a spark of emotion, feeling a high wrapping around my senses. Everything other than her began to fall out of focus while my fingers sunk into her cheeks, which tore apart ear to ear. Raveling rows of sharp teeth and then she bit down, ripping into my fingers all the way to the bone.

I kept on pleasuring myself, not caring about what the other side did. I felt myself coming through while the cruel laughter rang out. Her nails grew and dug deep into my arm, dragging downwards and tearing my skin. Blood pooled out and dripped, covering the bed and staining everything red.

Her body began to deflate, and her skin took on a rotten, purplish tone. The top of her skull tore itself out to form a pair of dark ember horns, surrounded by a lock of smooth black hair. Her jaw loosened, and a serpentine tongue slipped out, and I smiled. Bringing my head down while her tongue slithered down into my mouth, fledgling with my tongue. There was the obvious taste of blood, but then there was a soul-defiling taste of burning stone that shook me, making me even more numb to pain.

At that moment, I had almost forgotten what had happened before this dream. That homeless man getting his soul sucked dry, then...not sure what happened, but I could put together that it followed me all the way to my room.

This was fun while it lasted, this wet dream. But I had to wake up, for I had heard that she was coming.

...

It ended as soon as I forced my eyes open. I found myself pinned against the wall on the verge of ejaculating, with two sizeable serpent-like tails sticking into the palm of my hands. Next, I immediately Looked down at the thing from my dream, pleasuring my dick with its mouth, starching it ear to ear and with a loose tongue twisting around it.

It would be a travesty to say this wasn't the best head I had ever gotten, and soon my senses came back. "You...are one of Lilith's whores, huh... Shame she didn't come herself", I said between breaths. She stopped by pulling her tongue and instantly gripped my dick with her hands, causing me to choke.

"A mare nescient won't refer to her mistress in such a rude manner; your soul soon will be presented to her, along with the others," she replied with mouth dribbling with a pool of saliva and other bodily fluids. "I know, I was just getting to that... but finish me off first for fuck sake", I said, wanting her to get to the point.

"Very well," she said, gobbling the whole of my dick towards her throat, and with loud relief, I released the build-up deep in her. The moment of pleasure and relief was followed by screams of pain as she pulled back, pulling her tails out of my hands.

In an attempt to run, only to fall back to the floor writhing in pain. I caught myself against the wall, "Haha, taking my soul? bitch don't kid yourself", I said back.

She began digging her nails into her mouth and throat, trying desperately to pull semen out while it burned through her. Honestly, this was not that bad of an evening. I felt ready and confident to face the task at hand. I pushed off the wall onto my feet and wiped the sweat off my forehead. "Well, you have fun getting that shit down," I said, walking away towards the bathroom, leaving the whore to dissolve in pain and ash.

Currently, I was in Kansas City, and It had been a couple of days since the three princes of hell fell. Not knowing how they escaped or how they became free, it was safe to say the world had gone to hell.

...

As soon as I came out, my eyes when to the pile of ash and stains left by that demon, and as I walked over it, the ask slipped beneath my shadow. A single table stood with chairs on either side and a couple of bottles of whisky, the cheap stuff, tasting like gasoline. Putting two empty bottles in the trash, I picked up a half-drunk one and took a few swigs before pulling away the towel from my waist and pulling up my boxers and pants.

Two separate beds, a single nightstand in the middle, and directly adjacent to it was the television set over a barely standing shelf. Then to the side of that was a full-size mirror. Seeing myself made me realize several things about myself.

First, I came closer to properly view the person in the mirror. Pulling on the buckle of my belt around my waist, adjusting it while posing myself up-straight. My packs glinted in the yellowish light of the motel room while I flexed my arm, bulging my muscles. I pushed back my slightly maroon hair, still wet, back. Smiling at the sharp-jawed hunk of a man with dazzling black eyes that could please a woman with just a stare.

Other than watering at my own appearance, the second thing I noticed was every slight. You could even chalk it up to a trick of the light, but I watched my person smothered radiance light. I think, now, I am living up to my proper name, Mortise Saint, the true and the only Saint this world will ever need.

"Ring, ring," the sound broke me out of myself praise. Someone was at the door interrupting my presence. So I excused myself in the mirror and walked over to the door.