You stared at yourself in the dirty bathroom mirror. The weight on your shoulders hung down over the outfit they’d given you. A leather corset digging into your chest, pushing your tits up until they almost spilled out of the cups. Fishnets went along your legs and up to the leather skirt draping down where you pressed your thighs together. The promise of what was coming sent a shudder through you. But it was your best option.

Quite literally, it was your only option.

Pay off a debt and walk away with $2,000.00. The wicked, sharp-toothed smile of the loan shark was burned into you while he sat on the edge of his desk and looked down at you. A job to work–that’s what he called it. One night. All night was the key. But you’d be helping him out so, naturally, he’d help you out.

When you agreed so reluctantly, he tossed a bag at you and pointed you toward the bathroom to change. A van was waiting outside for you with a few others taking the same deal. The job started the second you walked out of the bathroom; there was no going home and flaking out. Not that he wouldn’t have just tacked that onto your growing debt anyway. He knew how to track you down, after all. 

So, you changed into the skimpy outfit. He’d already alluded to what the job was without directly saying it. Serving some customers exactly how they want. Serving them with yourself, all night, until that debt was paid dirty and in full. The extra $2k…. You needed it. The icing on top of the fucked-up cake.

He’d planned it ahead of time, he must’ve. Everything fit almost perfectly, even the thigh-high black boots that matched the stiff leather skirt and corset. Underneath, a red thong was sheer lace, holding nothing back if a gust of wind came for you. But that was the point.

Leaving your dignity in the bathroom, you ventured out. The sneering have fun from the loan shark leaning in his doorway was a shiver of humiliation down your spine. What were you doing? Paying off a debt. You kept repeating it to yourself all the way down the hallway and out to the van waiting. The driver was standing by the open side door, arms crossed, smoking; he eyed you with a once over you figured he’d given everyone else who walked out that door. Another poor soul.

You approached in silence. There were about six others crammed into the benches in the van, all trying not to touch each other when they hardly had anything on. Similar skimpy leather outfits went over them, too. Fishnets and leather galore. 

“Here.”

The driver held out his hand. A single red pill sat in the dead center. A little devil was pressed into the center of it. 

“It’ll make the job…easier.” He took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it over by the dumpster. “Will help so you don’t remember much of the depravity either, too, if you prefer that.”

So it really was going to be that kind of night, then.

A deep breath gave you a mouthful of Marlboro Lights. But you plucked up the pill and dry swallowed it. It tasted like cinnamon and ash lingering on your tongue. It burned a little in your throat. Still, you climbed in next to another woman, her leg bouncing incessantly. 

The side door shut. The van jostled when the driver climbed in and slammed his door shut.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

The collective response was silence. He shrugged and drove off anyway.

The effects of the pill hit just as he pulled up to the front. The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like you were winding down twisting roads the entire time. When the side door opened and the lot of you climbed out, you were staring up at a sleek black building with neon red lights. The winter air was a little kiss to your cheeks, where a heat gradually started to rise. A blur touched the edge of your vision, but didn’t consume. Like a sheer red hue was giving you a big old hug and welcoming you into the flames of something else.

Would make it easier, huh? You swayed on your legs. Not quite tipsy, no, you were conscious as the driver pointed up to two bouncers opening up double front doors. But you felt floaty when you walked up the steps. Through the double front doors and–whoa. Into the front of a busy, blood-red club with fast music playing out of hanging speakers. Tables upon tables were full; drinks were being poured, cards were being played, and a hand at your back shoved you and the rest of you further into the club.

“Ah! The entertainment is here!” a smooth voice cooed from across the room. “We’ll start placing bets soon enough, but how about we give them a proper welcome, hm?”

They’re not human. It clicks as you stumble in another step. Horns, claws, various red skinned demons, they’re all around you. They grin and fawn, eyeing you up like you’re a piece of meat, and you are. That’s what the job was, after all. Serve them.

The flames of hellfire lick at your heels.

Those you were with are yanked to hungry fiends. A warm hand slides up between your legs and pats your cunt from behind, and you spin. The sudden invasive touch sends you staggering backward from the demon leaning against a trashcan by the doors. He waves at you as your heart starts to pound. But there’s nowhere to go; from his hand, you’re in another. Hands come around and squeeze your chest, a hard chest blocking you in. Large, clawed fingers pull at the bow tied at the front, but it doesn’t come undone. He just laughed, shoving you forward. Toward a small crowd amongst the larger.

Someone spanksed you over your skirt. Someone pulled at the bow on your corset. Another groped your chest and laughed. The blurring at the edge in that red, warm hue started to pour in more. Heat was a sudden bubble in your belly, and you tumbled as a hand on your arm yanked you down over a chair.

“Look at this one, boys!” he mused. The edge of the chair pressed into your stomach, and you kicked out at nothing while a heavy weight pinned you down. Not hands. You gasped for oxygen as he sat himself on your back, your arms pulled behind you and stuck underneath him while he straddled you. “Let’s see her now, oh…baby.”

Abruptly, the back of your skirt bunched. Warm hands hold your legs open, their fingers bruising the meat of your inner thighs as you squirm. A rush of adrenaline slammed into you right as the demon atop you laughed again. He brought his hand down onto your ass, nice and hard. Your shout erupted against the chair.

“What a fine piece of ass we’ve got ourselves. Ha. Now…let’s see your pretty holes….” 

Wait–

But all the squirming and thrashing didn’t change anything. It was the job you’d agreed to, and the job you were there to do. And pinned down like that, you’re serving them for a fully paid debt and that extra $2,000.00. The pill the driver gave you sank in all the way, and you felt it like you felt the demon ripping the fishnets open and pulling your thong to the side to expose you to the club.

He–or someone–spread you. Rough hands came with laughter and groans attached. Still, you wiggled, but you were sufficiently pinned when you felt their fingers moving in. It was degrading and dirty; they sneered when they rubbed your cunt and a glob of spit dropped onto your asshole. They spanked you again, and you yelped, trying to get your feet on the floor for support, but someone nudged at your knees, and you’re stuck on them instead.

A finger pressed against your asshole, rubbing and smearing that spit around like it was lube. The finger was big enough, and the stretch sent a flutter toward your stomach. It pressed in despite your clenching, and as you took it to its first knuckle, someone knelt behind you. A long, hot tongue dives into your cunt. It’s thick and strikingly hot–hotter than any tongue ought to be–and it writhes inside of you. Filling and invasive. It strikes a spot it shouldn’t, and you lurched, a loud moan yanked out of your throat.

“Ah, there it is! Look at you, mortal.” The demon on top of you spanked you again. Harder. The finger in your ass pushed in further; pumping in and out of you while the tongue slurped at your cunt. Lapping between your folds and toying with your clit–an interim before it slams back into your cunt to fill you disgustingly. 

Oh. But they kept hitting that spot. And…and one finger became a second already prodding at your ass. You’re not sure it’s even from the same person, let alone the same hand. But there were two fingers stretching your asshole wide; gaping. More came, and when the tongue departed, two fingers slammed into your cunt. Wet, sloppy, and loud. You screamed at the sensations; filling you up, a tongue lapping at your clit. Your thighs quivered and there was another spank. And another. And another.

It was dizzying. Another finger worked itself into your asshole, cheering all around. Shouts and screams echoed out; moans filled the space instead of music. Where the fingers left your cunt, a tongue dove in after them. Another slips under your chair, rubbing at your clit from underneath, and you can see him. His cock straining in his pants just underneath your face. He grinned at you before he touched you, and he grinned at you when he pulled the hood back from your clit and started rubbing tight, rough circles over it.

You’re there. Breaking. Another spank seared into your ass from someone in the gathering crowd. Your pussy clenched, and the demon with his face in your pussy let out a snide little laugh.

“What? Are you gonna cum?” he mused, pulling his tongue out and pistoning three fingers into you.

Yes, was the answer. You couldn’t catch your breath, then. Trapped under the demon. A fourth finger sliding into your clenching asshole, gaping you wide for someone to spit into it with a loud spat. Pleasure burned into the flicker of stretch, of pain, of degradation. The demon beneath you flicked your clit hard, and you lurched. 

Ground. You could breathe again for a moment. The demon atop you lifted up, and a hand on the back of your corset yanked you off the chair. The club spun into a blur of people as you fell onto the sticky floor. Hands pinned your legs open, two demons going back between you to lick at your holes, diving their long, spindly tongue into you with fervor. Two hands rip your corset open, spilling your tits out and leaving you without a shred of fabric to cover your chest. 

A bottle came over you quickly. Dark liquor soaking your tits and stomach. Beady red and black eyes stared down at you as they came in, drinking from you as if you were a glass. Sucking on your skin, lapping up the liquor from your belly button, and groping your chest. Rough fingers pinched your nipples and tweaked them. You started up at the collective suits and fine dresses standing over you. Pouring more drinks over you, onto you, and two fingers stuffing themselves into your mouth to pour a shot down your throat.

There was barely a chance to glimpse around you, but it’s there. The others you came with. A demon found your clit as the others kept licking at your holes, making your back arch up off the floor. There, there, there! Your eyes teared up as pleasure found itself right back at the peak you’d been ripped away from. A shot came right back to your mouth and dumped dry, bitter liquor down your throat again right as you watched one other woman paying off her debt over a table, a cock in each hole while a hand poured liquor down her throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” a demon breathed, sucking liquor off your tits and nipping at your nipple. Another tweaked one hard enough you shrieked. “Look at these tits. Can’t wait to bet on you. You’re gonna be mine for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, god. Please,” you stammered. Someone’s pulled the hood back on your clit, and you’re there. Your back arched up hard. Hands pinned your legs back and open so more could get a good look at the demons driving their tongues into you. The circles on your clit tightened and roughened, and a hand on your jaw forced your mouth open.

“Oh, baby. God’s not here,” he whispered. “Just us.”

He poured another shot down your throat as you came. Fierce–ripping through you like hellfire. You writhed on the floor, screaming, throat burning from the shot and the pull in your moan. They bit and stuffed and licked, the circle around you beaming with excitement when you erupted. Blindingly, jerking when they kept on you. Drinking off of you. Playing with your clit. Those lapping at your asshole and cunt moving so two more could take their place; fingers drove into your holes while they still spasmed and clenched. Please, it…. It was….

Your back arched again. 

“Alright! It’s betting time!” That low voice cut through the haze of another orgasm. It was there; right at the edge. But hands pulled away from you excitedly. They grabbed at you, hoisted you up. Your cunt dripped down your legs when you got to your feet. The club swayed. The liquor they’d given you was doing its job on your empty stomach, and you felt the hands pawing at your tits–groping, pinching, spanking–while someone pulled you forward. And forward. And forward some more until you were stepping onto a small stage. Onto a chair.

Your hands were pulled behind you and cuffed together or onto something. It was hard to tell when a bright spotlight was on you. A demon cuffed your ankles out to some bolts on the stage, pulling your ass to the very edge of the chair. What…? 

“Submit your bets now for Mortal #9!” A spindly demon dressed in a white tux waved their hand toward you, a mic in the other. Another rolled a cart up next to you that was hard to focus on with everything blurring together. Everything was hot. Fuzzy. Your pussy throbbed and your asshole ached. There was something on the cart. A bowl of lots of somethings. “How many little vibrators can we fit in her pussy? Whomever wins gets to fuck her for the rest of the night! Place your bets now–we start momentarily!”

Mini…vibrators? Adrenaline sparked through you. Your next heavy blink showed those mini vibrators in clear vision. Little red things with silicone cords on the end. All attached to a remote sat next to the bowl. 

You pulled at the cuffs. They couldn’t be serious? But they were. A glint to your right that wasn’t from the spotlight said they were definitely sure. You peered over at the blinking red light on a camera zooming in on you. It skimmed over you, the demon running in coming in closer to lift your skirt up to show the audience. Were there more demons watching elsewhere or was this a keepsake? Something to sell? Your head lolled back when another wave of the liquor and pill combination made your pussy clench. Oh, god, you wanted. 

You looked down at where someone had pinned your skirt back. The announcer said something else you didn’t quite hear, you were just looking down at your wet cunt. Clit swollen yet needy for attention. The pill would make it easier. A moan cracked out of you without anyone touching you. 

“Oh, she’s excited! Let’s get started, then, shall we. We’ll start with one. Now, don’t worry about cumming.” The announcer reached into the bowl and plucked out a mini vibrator. A click on the remote had it roaring to life. Loud and unapologetically. “There’s an extra bet for how many times you cum before you’re too stuffed to take more. Now, let’s see here….”

He knelt down beside you and dragged the vibrator over your clit first. You jolted; the sudden ache for more was painful. Excitement murmured across the crowd. You couldn’t see much when the spotlight was so bright. Just the demon’s hands as he parted your cunt and slowly pushed the harshly vibrating bullet deep into you. It was hardly anything, it was so small, but you could feel the strength of it. 

“Oh. Oh, my….” you cracked out.

He reached into the loudly humming bowl of toys and plucked out a second. Your head fell back as he pushed it in. 

“There you go, that’s twoooo.” The rough pads of his fingers rubbed your clit. “Doesn’t that feel good, mortal?”

You answered with a moan. 

That earned a laugh from the crowd. 

A third vibrator was plucked up. He brushed it over your clit then brought it back, holding it there while you writhed. Thrashed. It was so much. Fuck. It felt so good. Your hips bucked, and he pulled it away before you came. As your pussy spasmed, he stuffed the third one in. The stretch was building, and he pushed his finger in with it, nudged the toys there inside of you.

“Getting full already, huh?” He turned his finger and pressed it up. Against a toy nudging against your g-spot. Stars shot through your vision, but he was already pulling his finger out. “Don’t know how much more this mortal can take. Let’s see if she can fit a fourth!”

Four.

Five.

Your hips jerked up off the chair when he pushed the sixth in, your cunt stuffed to the brim, all of them nudging each other and your clenching walls. You dripped down onto the floor as the eager crowd cheered. There. There. Again! You humped the air; there was no escaping the onslaught of the toys inside of you. You couldn’t pull away or lower the strength. And despite the lack of attention on your clit, you got there. Grinding against nothing, legs trying to close, tears streaming down your face. You cracked out a choked moan as you came around the toys. Gushing. Spraying over your thighs to cheers and shouts and whistles. The camera zoomed in on the mess, the hum of the announcer’s voice carrying over about extra bets for if you were a squirter or not. 

And then he brought a seventh vibrator to you. You thrashed in the chair, the assault of the others wreaking havoc on your sensitive g-spot. It was too much. But they weren’t stopping and he wasn’t reaching for the remote. You wanted to scream; you might’ve been. He pushed the seventh vibrator into you with a smidge of resistance, and went immediately for an eighth.

It didn’t fit.

Drool dribbled down your chin as you choked on every breath that only came halfway. Couldn’t. Your cunt spasmed. Couldn’t!! Your hip jerked into the air. There it was again, another. Rippling through you painfully toward that edge. You couldn’t, it was too much, too much–too much! The announcer pressed down on your hips and held the eighth vibrator to your clit.

Again.

The club blacked out into white-hot, searing pleasure. You came again, squirting over the chair and onto the stage. Viciously–shaking uncontrollably while he rubbed that little vibrator over your clit again and again. Drawing out every drop he could get out of you. 

“Well, there we have it, folks!” 

Click.

You dripped down onto the stage still. The vibrators turned off. Someone else came up and pulled each one out of you one by one.

“Seven total in that pretty pussy. Came twice, and is a squirter. Extra bets won will be given out at the counter, but our lucky winner tonight? The one and our, our patron!”

The crowd blurred. You were uncuffed once you were empty, and someone helped you sit up. The announcer leaned in with a pat on your shoulder that felt only condescending. Beady black eyes looked down at you with a snide smile attached.

“You’ll be with him for the rest of the night, mortal. Behave, he’s got company here.”

A slap to your cheek marked your removal from the stage. He carried on to the next task while another debt-cleared human was brought up after you. Forced on their knees to see how many bulbous vibes they could fit in their ass, and if they licked up your cum, they’d put a few in their cunt to make them cum, too.

You were brought to a VIP section up some steps off to the right. It was still out in the rest of the club, but clearly roped off. Two demons helped you up to who’d won you, and you fell with two hands resting on the table in front of him so you didn’t fall on the floor. He sat back, large in every sense of the word, red eyes looking you over. Two horns poked out of the top of his head and dark salt and pepper hair. A goblet of wine was in one hand that he’d clearly just drank from; he licked what’d spilled away from his mouth, and waved a finger for you to come to him. 

You did. Stumbling, thighs brushing against each other wet and sticky. 

“Pretty thing. Turn around and take your skirt off. Bend over for me.” 

You did. The ache in your tummy was still there despite how your pussy hummed from the lingering sensations of the vibrators. You dropped your skirt, first, wiggling out so it fell past your curves and onto the floor. Then, you slid in front of him, and bent over the table. You’d aimed for your hands, but with the alcohol and the pill and freshly climaxing twice like that on stage…. You fell to your elbows. 

“Pretty thing,” he mused again, and he gave your ass a light spank. “Spread yourself. I’m taking you full.”

Full….

You moaned even before you pressed yourself flat to the table. You reached back and kept yourself spread, staring at the group seated with and near him watching you in silence. Eagerness, but silence. And–oh. A lubed finger pushed into your ass. Bigger than those before, but nothing as full as the four that’d shoved into you at the start. Your back arched when he worked it into you. Deep, deep, and deeper, until a second joined. A third, then, quickly followed. And your hands were trembling when he pulled out and a thick, silicone head pushed past your asshole. Stretching you wide and filling you up swiftly.

The flared base locked it into you.

Oh, fuck–

Click.

It hummed to life with a vibration strong enough to ricochet your moan across the area, and he laughed quietly. 

“Come here, now. Give me your pretty pussy. I have business to finish.”

B-Business…?

You staggered back toward him. Hands found you swiftly, and you weren’t standing anymore. Thick thighs framed you for a second, the head of a fat cock brushed against your cunt, and then you’re brought down. Oh, mother of god. He was huge. Stretching you wider than the vibrators did, nudging up against the vibrator in your asshole, and you…he was going to break you. He was going to ruin you. He–

You fell onto his lap, quivering.

“There we go,” he said, giving your lower stomach a pat. “Now, Ulric, I need you to finish out the ledger before the end of day tomorrow, m’kay?” He looked over at someone at the table. They nodded. “Great. And, Rickie, would you send Gallard over? I owe him a drink.”

His hips rutted up once, and you lazily bounced on his cock. Sweet merciful god. You fell back against his chest, and he reached up, palming your tits. Rolled a nipple like it was something idle to do, and you whined. 

That was how it carried on. He kept his cock nestled inside of you while he handled his business with every other person there. Sometimes thrusting up into you, sometimes just fondling your tits. He rubbed your clit for a little bit while he waited for an answer from someone. Your thighs started to shake and he chuckled, lifting his finger and rutting up into you again. More times in quick succession that time, but you didn’t cum.

He let a few visitors fondle you, too. While he enjoyed his drink, petting your side like you were a pet. The toy in your ass humming loud and hard, wiggling against his thick girth inside your cunt. Strangers’ hands came in and groped softly at your tits. It wasn’t like before–dragging you down with who could get to you to make you scream first. They tweaked a nipple before giving it a light flick, but that was it.

It’s only when he finished his third drink does he finally fuck you. It was still languid thrusts, slowly fucking you while he rubbed your clit. It didn’t take long, though. You were there–had been there the whole fucking time. Lost in a haze of wanting to cum so badly, you didn’t want to believe it. But when that pleasure careened over you, you moaned high-pitched and wantonly, falling forward on his last few thrusts. You squirted around him in a mess quickly added to by him, his hands on your hips to keep you from falling onto the ground, pumping his cum into you in thick, full, burning ropes.

Something inside of you flipped. His cum coating your walls, his fingers working your clit. Your eyes rolled back and you felt so floaty and full; sweaty and hot. You mewled when he pulled you off his cock, and patted your wet cunt.

“Go ahead.”

You’re not sure who he’d said it to–you or the demon unbuckling his belt. But you’re already crawling over to him, your mouth watering and hands itching. The sensations sink so deep into you, you want the patron back inside of you. Fucking you again. Oh, god. You needed it. It was bad–you knew that. The fading voice of reason was only just fading–still there, still reminding you that this was only for the night. 

“Just your hands, pretty thing.” The patron sat back with his phone out. You glanced back to see him holding it up to you. Recording. “Let them paint you all pretty for me.”

It blurred together. Every cock you wound up with in your fists. Some pulled you up onto the table so you could get at them easily while the boss recorded. Everything was wrapped in the heat of hell, dancing around you and burning you with each person you touched. They grunted over you, jerking off into your fists, spilling over you. Again. And again. Over and over. Cum dripping down your tits and onto your stomach. It came over your thighs, hands, and your chin. Fingers worked their way into your cunt and fucked the dildo in your ass into you, marking you arch off the table. 

It was an endless sea of pleasure. It came wave after wave; your back sore from how you arched. Your cunt stuffed full of the boss’ cum, still, even when fingers rubbed your clit and worked into you to make you whine and moan. 

He recorded you still, smiling at you when you smiled at him. Wanting that cock of his back inside of you. Wrong. Your head lolled back as you came again. The red flag waving in the back of your mind faint and dying in wind that wasn’t blowing. Wrong…. You cooed into the camera, wanting his attention again, and he hummed. He traded his phone for you, and pulled you back onto his lap. Cock back inside of you, your hands falling onto his chest.

“The night is ending soon, pretty one,” he hummed, groping at your ass while lifting you up and down on his cock. “Don’t you want to stay?” He fucked into you harder. Oh, god, yes. Yes! “Stay with me. It just takes a little signature. Stay, pretty one. And I will treat you like this every night.” Slower–oh, he fucked you so much slower. “Stay with me.”

Yes. Yes. But your head lolled back. You didn’t need much. You were already there. Yes. Yes. Fuck! You rocked your hips and your clit found him, grinding up against him, still stretched and full…. Oh, fuck, yes.

You came around him, hard, shuddering and crying.

The tears raked down your cheeks, black spots flitting into your vision. He cupped the back of your head when it fell back. His thumb brushed over your mouth, and you moaned. It was hardly anything that pushed you over, but you spasmed, the last of your energy…done.

“Night’s over, Relgan,” echoed in a familiar voice.

You smelled Marlboro Lights. 

A quiet grumbling vibrated in the boss’ chest, and suddenly you were bounced up and into fast and deep. Your whines kicked out of you as he fucked you, pulling you down on his cock when he tensed up and came. Spilled inside of you again. Every drop given to you.

Two hands went under you.

Your skirt was draped over your shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” was muttered next to you, and the club faded out.

Everything faded out.

You blinked at your front door. The world was all wobbly, including the key in your hand. Home. Home. You got the key in on the sixth try, and struggled with the lock that only gave when someone else reached up and got it for you. A hand was soft on your back when you staggered in, and the door shut behind you with a soft click. Oh, your couch. Your couch! You fell stomach-first onto it, face buried in a throw pillow, and then…darkness.

Swift, soothing, sweet darkness.

It’d been dark through your window when you’d closed your eyes.

When you woke, a gasping breath waking you on your back, it was bright outside. Really bright. The light of the sun too bright, and you covered your eyes. What…? You blinked. You were sprawled out on your couch in the old jeans you’d pulled on in a quick hurry so you wouldn’t be late meeting the loan shark. Loan shark.

You jolted up–

“Oh, my god.”

Sore. Sore everywhere. Sore along your back, your chest, your bottom, your asshole, your cunt. You were suddenly saying bye to the couch as you fell onto the floor, your body clenching up from all the aches and pains, and that accidental tumble just made it worse. Holy….

Your bag. You knocked into it in your fall, and it was open. A bundle of $20.00 bills fell out. A lot of $20.00 bills. There was a note attached. 

The job. Your stomach lurched. The night was a dark blur. Nothing came forward as you reached for the little note, the handwriting unfamiliar. But you swore you could smell cigarette smoke on it.

Debt’s cleared. Boss has an associate that wants to meet you. 

There was a phone number attached, but….

A tiny red flag waved in the darkness of the memories.

You tore the note to shreds. No. Whatever it was…. You had $2,000.00 to help you get your shit together. Whatever was on that note was bad news. Even if you couldn’t remember it. You weren’t going to risk it.

You forced yourself to your feet and locked the money into the safe under your bed.

Last night was a fluke. A debt paid–however it happened in that blank abyss.

You climbed into the shower to enjoy the scolding hot water that felt so familiar in ways you couldn’t understand. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen. The rule was unspoken, but they understood it well. Sure, after they fell, after they became demons, the two didn’t have to abide by many rules. But what they were doing was forbidden. Surely it had to be.

Malthus fell first. He was going to kill you in the beginning. You had come into possession of that doll. The little red-headed doll that he hid away inside of decades ago. It didn’t matter how you got your hands on it. He was just ecstatic that he finally had someone to play with, someone to break down. A soul to devour. It had been so long and he desperately needed it.

But you were hard to break.

Even when you got scared at his tricks you would quickly shake it off, like nothing happened. That was fine. He liked a challenge. He could play with you for as long as he needed to.

But you were strange.

You carried the doll around. That ugly doll in that old white dress. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. You wouldn’t just leave it sitting around. You would move it to different rooms on different days. But you mainly kept it in the living room, sitting in a chair as if it were your roommate. That was okay. He could deal with you being strange.

But you were indifferent.

A month had passed and you were driving the demon mad. Every time he moved the doll you wouldn’t react. You would simply move it back to where you wanted, seemingly completely unfazed by the uptick of strange phenomena in your home. Sounds at night, hands grabbing your feet as you slept, apparitions walking through your house. If you were scared it didn't show through much. You got a bit jumpy here and there but there was no appearance of true terror. And that was unacceptable. He had to end this.

But he couldn’t.

There he was, growling above you. You couldn’t move, paralyzed as you lay in bed, looking up at the demon above you. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You just met his gaze, staring at him. And for the first time since the beginning of time, Malthus felt something that wasn’t rage, that wasn’t a sinister bloodthirsty boiling anger where his soul was supposed to be. He didn’t know what it was but he wasn’t supposed to feel it. It was forbidden. So he left, retreating into the doll, and making it and him disappear from your home.

But that wasn’t the end.

Valak had become a partner in sin with Malthus. The two didn’t necessarily like each other but they accomplished plenty of foul things together. Especially with Valak overseeing everything. But when he found out that Malthus had failed to kill you it left him both confused and enraged. How could he not kill a simple pathetic human? How could he let a soul that was ripe for the taking go to waste?

If Malthus couldn’t do it, Valak would. Maybe Malthus was just rusty. Valak was more powerful after all. It would be easy to take your soul.

Or so he thought.

Every day during your daily routine you would pass a cathedral. As you walked on the sidewalk it felt as if something inside of you was pulling you, whispering into your ear to go in.

It was Valak, of course. Not that you were aware of his presence. In your mind, you thought maybe something holy was trying to reach out to you but it was him luring you, knowing eventually you would crack and take a peek inside. He just needed you to get close enough to latch onto. And you did eventually. On one dreary Sunday morning, you decided to go to mass. His pull had raised some guilt within you, making you seek out the comforts of the pew. And that’s where he grasped hold of you, seeping into your mind without you even realizing it. Divine intervention wasn't in the cards for you on that day.

You took him home with you and you were none the wiser to your new demonic infestation. Valak could’ve killed you right then in there, but he waited. He wanted to make you weak, wanted to watch you break, wanted to savor every morsel of your pain before he took your soul.

But you were very hard to break.

Two months. It had been two months. And much to Valak’s displeasure, you were very much still alive. Weaker perhaps but not broken.

He hated to admit that Malthus was right about anything. You weren't cracking just as the other demon described. You were occasionally fearful, a natural instinct for what Valak was doing to you, but there was no true terror. And what good is a soul taken that's not dripping in terror?

Your resiliency was something he had rarely seen before. Clairvoyants, priests, witches…they all put up fights too. But even they cracked. Valak could make even the most holy of men break if he wanted.

You were truly different and it fascinated him almost as much as it filled him with rage. He could've killed you the first time he laid eyes on you. Malthus could've done the same. But there's no fun in that and even demons liked to have. Albeit their version of fun usually involved slaughtering mortals like a sacrificial lamb.

But just like Malthus, Valak found himself holding off.

He had an idea. A stupid idea but an idea nonetheless.

Valak liked the taste of the small amount of energy he had managed to drain from you. He might not have your soul but every now and then with the restless nights he would give you, he got a tiny morsel of what was inside. It was delicious. And maybe he could work with that.

Nightmares had always been an effective tool used by many demons. Your consciousness slipped just enough when you were asleep that he could slip through the cracks of that fortress that he once thought was impenetrable.

And that's where the real work finally began.

Malthus and Valak took turns. Every night planting a seed inside your mind that would leave you tossing and turning, gasping for air as you woke up startled and confused. Your brain cooked up the nightmares, the demons just had to give it a push in the right direction.

You were starting to see them in your dreams, haunting your sleep and terrifying you from within. It appeared that they had finally solved the puzzle of breaking you down. They could finally revel in the energy as they held you inside your own mind.

As the days went on you became visibly more exhausted. You were physically and mentally drained, slouching and shuffling to and from work, yawning throughout the day. Your friend at work had even offered to step in, thinking that maybe spending time with others would somehow remedy your slow descent into whatever hell you were being pulled into.

It was enough to make even Valak smile. Somehow he found toying with you and keeping you alive more enjoyable than giving you a swift end. It was confusing to him. Undeniably amusing but also confusing.

Neither he nor Malthus kept people alive for very long. Humans were usually easy to manipulate, easy to scare. Their souls were taken quickly, their bodies buried almost as fast by their mourning loved ones, assuming they had them.

But you were a rare exception. A part of him stirred as he watched you beyond the veil, a feeling not unfamiliar but he didn't welcome it gracefully. Something about your mental pushback, whatever in the nine hells was giving you that strength, was oddly alluring to the demon. He knew Malthus had felt it too which piqued his interest even more. It was so rare that the two of them were on the same page about anything. No matter how much they toyed with you they both had come to the same conclusion; you weren't going to die. Not by their hand at least.

_______________

You couldn't take it anymore. For months your mind had been in a steady downward spiral. Your anxiety was at an all-time high, nightmares were plaguing your sleep every night, and the poltergeist activity was starting up again.

You weren't stupid, you knew something was up with that doll from the beginning. The previous owner practically gave it to you for free, desperately wanting it anywhere else. So you took it.

The doll was creepy, sure, but you didn't see any problem with owning it. At least you didn't think there would be a problem until it started moving on its own along with other things in your house.

You were initially freaked out but as time went on you decided to just live with it. You had initially figured the doll was just possessed by a lonely spirit, a little girl perhaps, but you were proven wrong when you were given a dose of sleep paralysis and a horned demon staring into your soul.

When you were left alive you took that as a sign. Maybe something up above was telling you it was time to get the spiritual aspect of your life in line. But ever since that doll disappeared and ever since you set foot in that church you were feeling worse by the day.

The change was small at first. You would hear whispers in your ears with no source, you would smell ash when there was no fire, and your nights would be restless.

But then those restless nights turned into nights where you felt like you were trapped in your sleep, like you were being held down and forced to watch your nightmares unfold until whatever the force was let you slip back into reality. Every day when you walked to work you swore you could see a nun staring at you through the stained glass of the church on your street. The whispering turned into disembodied shouts. You could see things out of the corner of your eye, peeking around the corners of your house, watching you from the shadows.

The worst part about it all, besides the very obvious drain on your energy, was that you felt like you couldn't talk to anyone about it. You wanted to talk to your friends about it but as you ran through what you might say in your mind you realized how crazy you might sound.

But you had had enough, deciding to take matters into your own hands.

You spent the next couple of weeks scouring the local libraries during your free time, finding anything you could get your hands on about demonology and more importantly demonolatry. You spent your time reading every page, taking notes, researching the origins of that doll. You wanted to find out if you could find out who exactly the demon was, who exactly the nun was that stared at you each day. And when you thought you finally had them nailed down you did something that would alter your life forever.

_______________

A summoning wasn't something Valak or Malthus expected. It was bold of you. Stupid, but bold.

They found themselves bound in the confines of a circle, infernal markings in the floor keeping them in place with you just out of reach. The lamb had done some research. If Valak wasn't annoyed he might've just been impressed.

Malthus was enraged. His hand came up, claws swiping at you but missing, an invisible barrier keeping him from getting closer. The skin on his hand singed the closer he got, flesh burning almost as hot as the circle of hell he crawled out of.

"That's not going to work," you said.

You were sitting in your recliner, legs crossed, a borrowed library book resting on your lap. Your fingers tapped against the hard cover as you watched the demons with intrigue. "There really is a book for everything," you thought to yourself.

But you weren't alone inside your head. The demons were bound physically, but mentally they could still roam, even if it wasn't at their full strength.

"You pathetic human. You really think this can hold us for long?"

A voice hissed inside your head. It hurt, pain searing into the nerves of your brain. Your hand pressed on the side of your head, rubbing against it in a desperate attempt to soothe it.

"That's not going to work," the voice echoed, mocking you with your own taunt.

You glanced at the demons and saw one grinning. A truly devious smile bearing rows of sharp teeth. Your gaze faltered as pain struck you once more. Your eyes squeezed shut and you instinctively grasped your head in your palms, groaning at the pain.

It burned, like hot tendrils of fire right behind your skull. The pain intensified and you screamed, falling out of the hair onto the hardwood floor.

"Tsk. Tsk. Poor baby," the voice said, this time out loud.

At least you assumed it was out loud. The voice seemed to dance around the room but a part of you was sure it was the pain confusing you.

The demon chuckled, the sound rattling through the room. Your hearing became muffled, as if your head was being dunked underwater. It felt like a hand slid up your body, lingering at your throat and then gripping it, squeezing as hard as the invisible force could. You felt like you were being dipped in darkness, your vision clouding and becoming blurry.

The demons were trying to kill you with what little power they had while they were confined.

"Stop it!" you tried to scream but it came out garbled. It felt like you were choking on the very air you breathe.

"Why should we?" a simple question flooded into the depths of your mind.

For a fleeting second, you wondered the same thing. Why should they? They were demons after all. They owed you nothing, definitely not your life, and they were currently physically stuck in a circle they couldn't leave. They wanted out and killing you seemed like a simple trade-off.

So why would they stop?

"You know…we had just decided not to kill you but you had to go and ruin everything. We could've been perfect," the voice whispered in your head as the invisible hand tightened.

It was in that moment that you had an idea. It wasn't a good one but you had a feeling that it might just save your life.

"I can…help…you," you choked, those few words being all you could physically get out.

For a split second, there was a sharp ringing in your ears, and your vision was gone. You were sure you were dead, drifting into nothingness, but you were pulled back as quickly as you were gone. You laid on the floor of the living room, coughing as you desperately tried to get air into your lungs.

The grip was gone, so was the ringing. Your vision came back and your eyes slowly drifted up, locking eyes with the demon that was in your head.

Valak. You had figured out his name. Somehow the research had led you exactly to him. It was almost like something out there in the universe wanted you to figure out who he was, even if it almost got you killed.

He had a scowl on his face as his yellow eyes peered down at you. The other demon, Malthus, had a cold look on his face.

"What did you say?" Valak asked, his voice hissing all around you.

You pushed yourself off the floor, huffing as you did so.

"I'll help you. I can help you," you said, voice strained.

Valak moved, his foot stepping directly over your circle on the ground. Your heart felt like it stopped for a moment as you looked on in horror. You realized in your state of distress that your foot had broken the circle, sliding through the salt on the floor. They had used your pain to break out.

He walked over to you, the demon's figure looming over you. You smelled the familiar scent of ash wafting in your face as he grinned.

"Help us how, little lamb?" Valak asked.

He already knew the answer and so did you. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"Souls. I can help you get souls. As long as you don't take mine," you said quietly.

There was a moment of silence and you swore for a second the demons were communicating with each other in their minds.

Valak reached out, gripping your face in his hand, claws scratching at the skin. There was a flicker in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Deal."

KOKUSHIBO

- stares, a lot. it’s creepy, but overtime you get used to it.

- distant at first. and as the relationship progresses, he’ll keep his aloof habits regardless. but he’ll also display clingy, almost cat-like behavior towards you when you’re alone.

- he is the most dense man ever. tell a joke, and all six of his eyes are looking at you as if you turned into a cockroach.

- communication is 50/50 on this man. a part of me feels like he’d surprisingly be communicative with you no matter the issue because i view him as a direct and blunt person. but another part of me feels like he’d be too stubborn and let his pride get in the way of being vulnerable.

- isn’t a pro at displaying affection, however he doesn’t mind hugs or cuddles.

- prefers kissing over hugs. master at giving little pecks on your cheek or forehead.

DOUMA

- if you’re someone who despises clingy people, douma may not be suited for you. but if you love clinginess, congratulations!

- if douma truly loved you in his sense, he’d try his best to grasp an understanding of the feeling.

- loves to smother you with anything. whether it’d be endearment or threats! this man doesn’t understand boundaries.

- would be poor at communicating in human sense. his inability to feel or understand emotions would make his communication a facade. and if he attempts to, he’d probably just manipulate you if anything. however, i don’t think he’d deceive you on purpose. but who knows? it’s douma after all.

- the embodiment of affection, though it wouldn’t come from really anything besides what he thinks is right. i think he’s just naturally clingy, apathetic or not.

- loves to scare you by threatening to absorb you with a serious look. he’ll look at the terrified expression on your face and laugh at how hilarious you look!

AKAZA

- the sane one out of the four. however, while he is the healthiest, he has his issues. he is still a demon who represents one of the seven deadly sins, wrath.

- there’s definitely times where he takes his anger out on you unintentionally. he’d catch himself immediately and drown you with apologies and kisses.

- he is so protective and loyal! his core desire is to protect his loved ones, and that steps into his relationship with you. if anyone tried to harm or insult you in any way, it wouldn’t be a good day for them.

- good at communicating. although there are times where he lets his anger consume his senses, and would give you the silent treatment. but he can’t last 2 hours away from you knowing conflict hasn’t been resolved. so don’t worry, he won’t ignore you for long.

- doesn’t mind affection. in-fact, he loves it. only in private though. if douma saw you being all lovey dovey with him, akaza wouldn’t hear the end of it.

- respectful. all i have to say.

MUZAN

- don’t know why i added him here, it’s pretty obvious how he’d be. but we love him!

- muzan doesn’t love. he possesses, controls, exploits.

- would enjoy verbally mistreating you.

- muzan’s version of communication isn’t real. it’s manipulated and twisted. no matter whose at fault, he will make sure you feel nothing but guilt at the end of his monologue.

- there are times where he makes you feel like he truly loves you. but it’s just his classic deception.

- for affection, he surprisingly wouldn’t mind it. it boosts his ego if anything. obviously, while he’s doing his scientist shit, he isn’t going to tolerate you being all over him. but he enjoys you worshipping.