#angel whumper
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"I told you to watch that filthy tongue of yours. You're lucky I'm leaving it attached after what you said to me."
Ok imma actually do art tag on this one v-v
Art Tag: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpcomica @i-eat-worlds @blood-and-regrets @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @burntcoffeewhump @lonesome--hunter @whumpifi @oddsconvert @painsandconfusion @whumpasaurus101 @sadcatjae @kiratheperson @studyofwhump @sunshiline-writes @emmettverse @just-a-silly-little-whumper @chaotic---calm @ladyjaye13 @befuddled-calico-whump @safetypinflavouredgrass
#whump#demondamageart#whump art#haziel#angel whumper#Angel whumpee#angel whump#tongue#tongue whump#mouth whump
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[ CW // some blood ]
stomp!
touched up an old WIP from feb 2023 of these two. still not pleased with the final result but it’ll have to do
(in case you didn’t know, secretary birds kill venomous snakes by repeatedly stomping on their heads :)
(taglist: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question )
#whump#whump art#whump oc#gore art#angel whump#angel whumper#nonhuman whumper#nonhuman whumpee#species whump#gore artist#whump artist#patchworkedhell#guro art#guro
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could i request a demon whumpee and angel whumper?
like imagine if the whumpee tries to beg for help and tells people what whumper is doing to them but no one believes them because whumper is so perfect and kind!! besides, why would anyone trust a demon?
tw demon whumpee, angel whumper, victim-blaming, failed escape/recapture, starvation
“Please, sir–”
“Get away from me,” the man snarled, and Whumpee pulled their hand back.
“P-please–”
“Get away from me.”
Whumpee swallowed and nodded, taking a couple unsteady steps backwards. Starved as they were, they could barely stand upright, and their injuries were making their whole body ache and throb. They just wanted some help. Any help. A place to hide, a bite to eat… even a compassionate glance.
“Wait a minute– what are you even doing outside?”
“I– I, I’m out on Master’s orders–”
“No, you’re definitely fucking not. I know your master, and they would never let a wretched monster like you back out onto the streets.”
Whumpee’s eyes widened in fear. There was no way they couldn’t even get away with an innocent lie like that. Did the angel really have them all fooled? What had they been saying to these people? “I’m t-telling the truth, sir–”
“Like hell you are. Demons like you do nothing but cause chaos.” He took a step towards them, and Whumpee took a step back. No. No. They were out. They were free. They just needed– they just needed to get away–
“Please, sir,” they tried again, leaning against the wall of the building behind them. “P-please, I’m severely injured, I’m being tortured, sir, please–”
“If you are being tortured, then it’s your own damn fault, demon. Monsters like you deserve nothing but suffering.” The man grabbed them by the arm and started dragging them back to the hell they’d just escaped. “Whumper will cleanse this town of filth like you, and I’m more than happy to assist them.”
#asks#whump#whump drabble#demon whumpee#angel whumper#victim-blaming#failed escape#recapture#starvation
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Day 23 - (ALT PROMPT) Lab Rat
SHOUTOUT TO @sunshiline-writes FOR INSPIRING THIS HAHAHA!! This happens in the risen demon au bc I say Manuel deserves more pain and Daniel deserves to have a good time.
Pinglist (oops I so forgot to do this the last few ones!!): @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain, @whumpbees
Tws: lab whump, HEAVY gore, drugging, kidnapping, vivisection
Searing, impossible pain woke Manuel. Something was hurting his wing, digging into the flesh. It was almost like the worst bug bite he'd ever felt. Groaning, he tilted his head and realized that whatever he'd fallen asleep on was really hard.
Had he gotten drunk and passed out in the kitchen?
A lilting voice drifted through the air as Manuel groaned. "Oh, little demon, are you awake?" He didn't recognize that voice.
Red eyes met Manuel's when he finally peeled back his eyelids. The blond man above him smelled like holy magic--an angel. When he tried to rub at his eyes, his wrist couldn't move--he was tied down to a steel table with leather straps.
"Who...?" Manuel realized that it was almost impossibly hard to focus or talk.
"Oh, it doesn't matter." Long, pale fingers patted Manuel's face, the contact making him whine. "I won't keep you for very long, I know your ilk wouldn't take well to that. I do rather like existing." The angel laughed, waving one his other, scalpel-wielding hand in the air.
Manuel's eyes widened as he realized the metal was bloody. He followed where the angel's eyes drifted to, eyes landing on his own massive, feathery wing, also forced open with restraints. The skin had been peeled back and pinned open. The muscles twitched and tried to flex. He could see his own tendons. The stark white of bone peeked out, here and there.
Manuel felt his stomach roll. "What...?" He tried, swallowing hard as searching, relentless fingers dug into the exposed flesh. Fire raced up his wing, pulling a wavering groan from Manuel. "Why...?"
"Because I've only heard rumors of risen demons existing." Manuel's captor said, tugging on a tendon to see how the rest of the wing moved. "I need to learn all I can about you while you're here."
Manuel tried to call his magic forward, he felt the ghosts of sparks at his teeth. The terrible, too-tall angel laughed again, reaching towards a silver tray for a vial and syringe. He pressed the bloody needle into the vial and withdrew a fluid. "And I also need to ensure that you don't remember a thing. Now, just lie still. I want to examine your internal organs before I turn you loose again."
The needle pressed into Manuel's arm and he felt the burn of medication rush through him. "Now," He cooed as the lights began to blur, smiling as Manuel's eyes started to droop. "Sleep. You won't remember a thing."
#ailesswhumptober2023#ailesswhumptoberday23#day 23#alt prompt lab rat#lab rat#lab whump#drugging#kidnapping#gore#vivsection#demon whump#angel whumper#the archangel#manuel#risen demon au#I love daniel so MUCH
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The whumper considered themselves to be a very merciful angel, one that would follow all of the rules and would hold humans to their standards- but their standards were far too high for mortals. The whumper would punish humans that they saw as deserving of pain, and the whumpee was their latest victim. The whumper would be merciless, sometimes going too far as they overestimated how much damage a mortal could take, and the whumper would be forced to heal the whumpee, which the whumper saw as something the whumpee didn’t even deserve.
#whump#whump prompt#whump scenario#whumpee#aramis stabs someone#whump prompts#angel whumper#whumper#torture
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looks like kotaru is having some trouble keeping aziphem awake...
thank you for the amazing commission @demondamage! Hope you liked it!
#digital art#whumpee#whumplr#whump art#digital painting#medical whump#whump community#whumper#commission#commissions open#demon whumpee#angel whumper#blood#whump story
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Demon's Haven 14
💥Flashback chapter💥
he isn't the most powerful demon, he just likes to think he is (or he did...)
—
masterlist
warnings: blood, torture, past whipping, partial nudity (he's just not wearing a shirt), weird thoughts on purity and sin that isn't specifically mentioned as religion but pretty close, light gore (not described much), clawing at own throat, scratching
—
The angel came back.
Envy had spent an uncomfortable amount of time in these blasted chains, which left his arms without feeling from the position he found himself trapped in. The holy water used to clean his wounds had dried, but the sting hadn’t dissipated. Like the aftereffects of eating overly spicy food, it lingered on after the original offender was gone. He’d suffered through what he thought must have been a day and a night before the angel returned, brightly burning in her righteousness.
Maybe if he begged her to wash the holy water off, she’d listen. He was disgusted with himself for the thought.
The angel stepped inside the cell with the same damned crystal bowl as yesterday, or the day before, or whenever his last torture session had been. It irked him not to be able to tell the time, but he knew he had more pressing concerns.
“I’m still clean,” he said by way of greeting. “Didn’t get up to any trouble, don’t need a bath.”
He waggled his eyebrows in a way that he hoped was condescending. The smile he plastered on his face was a forced effort; he didn’t want the angel to catch how scared he was. Knowing the bite of holy water on his skin and in his open wounds did nothing to diminish his fear of it. If anything, it made it worse. He clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking and rattling the chains.
“This is for that mouth of yours,” the angel intoned.
She didn’t look at him, only set down the bowl on a small wooden table that looked to be not a table at all but a giant wooden spool turned on its side. It came up to her hips. She set a white cloth into the water and pressed down, letting it soak up what would surely be Envy’s future pain.
He tried again. “I’m sure I can think of better uses for it, if you give me a chance.”
His voice shook a little on the delivery and he cursed himself for it. The angel wrung out her pristine cloth and Envy watched every single drop of water that came from it fall back into bowl, sending ripples across the surface.
“I need to fix that attitude of yours. Then you be made pure.”
The angel spoke with perfectly even intonation, not a drop of cadence out of place or showing any emotion at all. She strode over to him and stood directly in front this time, rather than moving behind him where the lashes where. At least he wouldn’t be going through that again, though he was sure whatever else she had planned for him was equally as terrible. He hated the anticipation. The unknowing.
Envy tried a different tactic, seeing his options wearing thin and time running out. Water dripped from in between the angels slim fingers. It mixed with his blood on the floor.
“Listen here you little bitch, when I get out of here, I’m going to rip you to fucking shreds. You hear me? I’m the most powerful demon there is, I could compel you to—”
The angel slapped the cloth to his neck. It was so sudden that it cut off the entire tirade he’d constructed in his head and all he could manage was a weak gurgle as the holy water ate through the fragile skin at his throat. He gasped, and the motion alone was enough to bring tears to his eyes. No. He would not cry again. No.
The angel wrapped the cloth around his neck and smoothed it out, then stepped away to admire her work.
“Hck—”
Envy opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t even scream. The holy water ate through the skin at his throat and into the tissue and muscle. He didn’t know where the water started and where the blood began, where he started and where the pain ended. The pain never ended. Tears streamed down his face, and those, at least, washed some of it away.
It burned it burned it burned.
“Ple—ack—ples!” he yelled, coughing in the middle.
The angel watched him impassively. Envy thrashed in his chains, trying in vain to move his arms down to rip the offending cloth off his skin and only succeeding in bloodying them more than he already had.
After what seemed like an eternity, the angel made a satisfied “hm” and took him down from the chains. Envy fell to the ground in a pathetic heap, his limbs not strong enough to support him under the weight of his pain. He wrenched the cloth from his throat and lunged, a feral gleam in his eyes.
He was free he could kill her he could compel her—
The angel kicked him in the face, one shiny shoe connecting with his nose and Envy was back on the floor. A sickening crack reverberated through his skull and lights flashed in the darkness behind his eyes, bright and twinkling like stars. He cried out and raised his hands to his nose. Blood already began to seep from in between them.
The angel put a foot on his chest to keep him down, and he would have been indignant about it if he weren’t so fixated on the bowl in her hands. She poured the remaining holy water over his exposed throat and he screamed. He bucked under her hold, his back arching fruitlessly under her heel, but the angel stayed in place regardless of his efforts. Envy’s hands went from his face to his neck. Fingers scratching, tearing, clawing desperately at the skin to try and remove the source of the pain but there was none he could grasp.
He made a loud keening sound like that of a dying animal, half-gurgle and half scream. Fog filled his vision while a wretched smell invaded his nostrils. He realized it was him—the smell and smoke of his flesh being burned away. He rolled on the ground, ripping up the wounds on his back, grasping at his damaged throat.
He didn’t even realize the angel had already left. When he finally did, he spat weakly on the floor, wishing that it was enough to say he still had the upper hand. He knew that he’d never had it to begin with.
—
next
(taglist in reblogs)
#i was gonna do another present day arc piece but wanted more Envy Bad Times#he's so stupid i love him#whump#whump writing#my writing#willow writes#original work: demon’s haven#oc envy#demon whump#demon whumpee#angel whumper#religion tw#gore tw
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Pick Your Poison 19
You decided to try and wake them up for answers.
You reached out your hand, touching the sleeping man's shoulder, and gently shaking it. You pulled your hand back when his eyelids moved and his hand twitched. You waited a few seconds as nothing else happened and began to reach out to try again. Only for the “sleeping” man the recoil from your touch. His eyes shot open and he scrambled to quickly get out of your reach.
You paused watching him with wide eyes. He seemed scared… Of you? You tilted your head, putting your hand up in a placating gesture. One thing you noticed about the cowering man now was that his eyes were still black, but the irises were a different color. Presumably, they were back to what they were originally, instead of Berkley’s eye color. He stared back at you, watching for any sudden movements.
“Whatever he did to you, I had nothing to do with it.” Eventually his small voice spoke, clearly afraid. His eyes were staring at where your missing hand would be, and his own hand thumbed over his shoulder with his prosthetic.
“Did he do that to you too?” You calmly ask, gesturing to his prosthetic. He nodded. “And he took you too? You aren’t helping him?”
He tensed up, “That’s a… Complicated question. Yes he took me. No I don’t help him willingly. But he has… Leverage.”
“Leverage?” You raised an eyebrow, caution ringing in your mind.
“It’s… Also complicated… But yes. He has ways to make me do things.”
“Like earlier? When you came and got me. Was that-?”
“Possession.” He interrupted. “But that’s only half of the picture.”
“What the fuck do you mean possession? You’re the one that looks like-” you paused, gesturing to his horns and eyes. “Well… Something that can possess people…”
“A demon?” He hesitantly offered.
“Exactly… But that’s-”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I am. And I’m not the only one. If you wanna survive here you’ll get used to it.” His voice seemed more forceful than it had been. Not as scared anymore. At least not of you.
“Is Berkley a demon?” You asked, not quite sure if you would rather one answer or the other.
“No…” He paused and glanced at the door. “He’s an angel… And a powerful rogue one at that.”
“That thing is an angel?!” You shouted, making the man cover his ears.
“He is.” His voice was quiet again, and he shrank away slightly. But he spoke with such finality you didn’t doubt it. What use would he have for lying? And today had already been so crazy it might as well be true.
“What’s your name?” You changed the topic, wanting at least some sense of normalcy. If you were gonna be here for a while you might as well get to know the other people living under this maniac’s thumb.
“Rain. My name is Rain.” He offered, straightening up slightly. You got the sense he hadn’t been asked that question in quite a long time, and he hadn’t been expecting you to ask it. “Yours?”
“You can call me Mx. Doe. Or just Doe. That’s what I told Berkley to call me. I don’t want that crazy knowing my actual name…” You gave a gentle smile at the man.
Taglist: @whumpshaped, @whumpsday, @whump-queen, @whumpzone, @whumptier, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @a-formless-entity, @whumplr-reader, @whumper-soot, @emmettverse, @icyheart-and-friends
#nightingale sings#nightingale writes#pick your poison#mx. doe oc#rain oc#berkley oc#(mentioned#demon whumpee#angel whumper#noncon body modification
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Hi! Can you possibly help me with a prompt?
Demon whumpee being tortured by arch angel whumper
Whumpee is treated as a slave and a pet by whumper
What type of humiliation and torture would angel whumper use?
: )
Hmmm that’s an interesting one… I’m kind of assuming a heaven/hell dynamic here…
I would say for humiliation, definitely some stuff about how whumpee is just a lowly demon, merely one amongst thousands, entirely unremarkable in comparison with whumper.
I feel like street cred is really important for demons, like being able to show off how scary and evil they are, so having demon whumpee submit and take orders from archangel whumpee in front of other demons would certainly be humiliating.
Better yet, if the demon is forced to do the work of heaven for the archangel, ie. doing good things for the world, which is antithetical to the demons very existence.
In terms of torture, I’d say any sort of celestial weapons, holy water, or anything else associated with heaven would be good to use against a demon whumpee. It really depends on the lore you’re working with, but you could theoretically have weapons that have any effect you want cause of the negative interaction between Angel and demon stuff.
Hope this helps (:
#whump#thanks for the ask!#whump scenario#whump idea#whump community#whumpee#whumper#demon whumpee#angel whumper
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JUST A SKETCH TODAY FOR @figuwhump I will finish this maybe tomorrow????
Anyways I love drawing Haziel and Warren sooooooo-
Art tag: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @whumpinthepot @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpcomica @i-eat-worlds @regrets-realization-acceptance @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @burntcoffeewhump @lonesome--hunter @scribbelle @oddsconvert @painsandconfusion @whumpasaurus101 @sadcatjae @kiratheperson
#whump#whump art#demondamageart#figuwhump#Warren#Haziel#Art#Sketch#Angel whumper#human whumpee#nonhuman wumper#necrotrophic soul
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new whump OCs— a secretary bird and a puff adder
the animal kingdom has such immense potential for whump inspiration, let me tell you…
I haven’t figured out a story for them yet, if there will be any, but I think I will definitely keep these guys around <3 any suggestions on what to do with them are very welcome!
(initial / non-simplified character designs below:)
#whump#whump art#whump oc#whump artist#species whump#patchworkedhell#snake oc#bird oc#nonhuman whumpee#nonhuman whumper#angel whump#angel whumper#angel oc#(it technically counts)#wings#bird wings#whump ocs#doodle#gore artist#guro artist#although ik this isn’t gore like at all…
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A winged whumpee chained or otherwise helpless and exposed, begging a whumper not to rip off their wings, either being ignored or indulged, at the cost of something else they value as much as their wings. Maybe their sight? Or they keep their wings but they're mangled? Idk
🐐
prev masterlist
tw gore, wing whump, angel whumpee, angel whumper, dismemberment, thought manipulation, conditioning, religious themes
"Please, no! Please, forgive me, I did not know it was forbidden!" Cassael pulled on the chains one single time before they decided not to struggle, hoping that their show of submission would earn them some mercy.
"Silence." The other angel gave them a heavy enough look to make them shrink in on themself, weighed down by the judgement they saw in their eyes. "You will talk only when I allow it until your punishment is over. You will take it with gratitude and grace, as you ought to."
Cassael had trouble feeling grateful for the corrections lately. Their mentors seemed agitated and easily angered, or maybe they had been extra clumsy; either way, they felt like their mistakes didn't warrant such severe abuse. But they had to be wrong. They had to. They were the problem here, they couldn't assess the situation well enough, they couldn't even feel right. They were nothing but a broken thing in need of fixing. They had to be grateful for that.
After all, broken things were useless, and useless things were thrown away. They had to be grateful to be given another chance. To be fixed and allowed to continue their work.
"Spread your wings, Cassael."
They did so without any objections. The punishments targeting their wings were always the worst. Setting the feathers on fire, throwing them in water until they were waterlogged and dragging them to the bottom, even just having to keep them spread for long amounts of time was agony. They weren't meant to be constantly spread out like that.
"You have flown over forbidden land. Your punishment is to cease flying altogether until your wings grow back."
Grow back? But–
Their back exploded with pain as the angel tore out their left wing, grabbing it closest to their body to make sure that the entire thing came away with one fluid motion. Cassael screamed and thrashed, the agony utterly unbearable, the feeling of blood trickling down their back making them sick.
"Stop! Stop! Please! I am so sorry, it was my fault, it was my fault! It will not happen again!"
"Such disrespect," the angel whispered. "I have told you to stay quiet and take it with gratitude."
"I am thankful for your guidance! Please, please do not rip out my other wing! Please! I have learned my lesson, I cannot fly with one wing!"
"You have not learned your lesson, clearly." The angel grabbed onto the base of their right wing, squeezing painfully hard. "I said quiet."
The shriek they let out at their other wing being severed was entirely out ot their control. The other angel seemed to think that they were able to disregard such intense pain in favour of a command, and maybe other angels were capable of that. Maybe they were the only one with a defect that didn't allow them to shut out the pain.
"This will do," they said, satisfied with their work. Cassael could do little else than stare in front of themself, bloody and exhausted, letting their body sag against the restraints. They could hear the blood gathering on the cloud below, if it hadn't eagerly drank it up. "You will stay here and reflect. You will not talk to anyone but me, and only after I give the word."
Cassael silently nodded. They had no reason to try to defy the angel now. Their wings were gone, their beatiful, pure–
The angel placed a hand on their head, and suddenly it felt like all the thoughts were sucked out of it. Only one emotion remained: the overwhelming guilt.
"This should help you stay on topic."
next
~
taglist: @the-scrapegoat @heavenly-whumper @whumpsday
#asks#goat anon#got under your skin#whump#whump drabble#gore#wing whump#angel whumpee#angel whumper#dismemberment#thought manipulation#conditioning#religious themes#cassael
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MEET THE WHUMPER! My Laodike!
(Tw: blood, nudity from behind and my righteousness obsessed angel whumper)
Who said all Angels are sweet?
Laodike will do anything in the name of justice and that includes digging her curled spikes deep enough into demon flesh to please god. Sometimes the demons get fiesty. Ragnarr in particular. That doesn’t sway her at all. A few cuts and bruises here and there mean nothing to Laodike.
Beneath the cut for a full winged version and close ups!
#oc: laodike#Angel whumper#religious whump#whump#comet’s tales#comet’s art#whump art#angel whump#blood#tw blood#lady whump#whumpblr#whump community
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Chapter 7 - Grim News
Nathaniel quickly settled into his new routines. He assisted Father Mark- Mark with his priestly duties, attending the Masses and even beginning to run them. The sweet old grannies at the church had taken a liking to him very quickly and he was pleased, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think about what they would say if they knew what he-
Mark was a strange guy too. He was a massive nerd, DVD’s of all the cult classic movies lining a bookshelf near the TV, cluttered among Bibles and even other holy texts. Nathaniel spotted a Quran, books about Hinduism, Buddism, Taoism, local Cree culture, and even a Kama Sutra. Nathaniel had snorted loudly when he’d seen that.
Mark seemed well read and intelligent though, Nathaniel catching him Googling injuries and natural or ancient treatment options for rare infections. Nathaniel just assumed the older priest liked that stuff, almost compulsively researching it and reading it with interest.
He was a nice guy though, couldn’t cook to save his life, but was a funny guy to chat to over tea. Mark had even asked Nathaniel to help him with the gardens around the church, one filled with beautiful, well kept roses and small community garden behind the rectory that anyone could take from, no questions asked.
Nathaniel liked him, he decided, as he got up for a drink one night. Mark was everything a priest should be, truly living like Jesus. He didn't own many things and would clearly give the shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. He did not judge and was kind. But if Mark found out about Nathaniel's sin...
Nathaniel shook his head. He was a man of the cloth now, he didn't have time to think about the sinful things his mind tempted him with, let alone worry if other people had figured it out yet.
Father Mark was a bit weird of a weird guy though, Nathaniel eventually figured out. He insisted on doing the laundry, not letting Nathaniel go anywhere near the basement door. Nathaniel had managed to crack it open at one point, but he couldn’t see anything in the dark and the gentle whirring of the dryer prevented him hearing anything inside.
That was until tonight. As Nathaniel got up, waddling in the dark to the kitchen sleepily, he sighed. His mind remembered the guy... That mysterious, very attractive guy who had scared away the ghost. But it had been a dream, he had obviously been still half asleep when he’d dropped the glass. There were no tall, dark, mysterious, hot men in the rectory and definitely no ghosts. He was just imagining things.
Sighing, he filled the glass, slightly wishing the man had been real, listening to the silence of the night, the faint chirping of crickets and even a loon, until a faint sound emerged from the basement. It sounded like a sick, uncomfortable groan. Nathaniel crept towards the door, listening intently, but heard nothing else.
Probably just the house settling. It was an old rectory, and buildings this old creak and groan all the time, right?
‘Right.’ Nathaniel nodded firmly, finishing the glass and placing it in the sink. ‘It’s just the house... It’s just the house.’
~~
Early on Sunday morning, Mark crept down the hall. He couldn’t sleep, so he had stayed up all night researching infected wounds again. It had been two weeks since the demon had been moved to the basement and Keh-yah wasn’t improving, if anything he was getting worse. Nothing looked good.
When he reached the basement door, Mark grabbed the handle and took a breath, before opening it. Inside it was dark, no light from anywhere getting in. He could barely make out the frame of the bed as he stepped down into the darkness, arm searching for the light switch. Keh-yah’s ragged breathing made his stomach drop as he switched it on.
Keh-yah looked awful. Rushing down the steps, Mark ran to his side and ripping the sheets back he checked the wounds again. They looked worse than before.
“No… no, no, no, no, no…” Mark whispered as he began peeling back dressings. The wounds looked bad, black and full of sludgy, green pus. He began ripping off clothes in an attempt to get to all the wounds, scuffling around as he did. Keh-yah remained limp, his chest rising and falling with great effort. He groaned a little as he was exposed to the colder basement air, turning his head and sighing. “Keh-yah?” Mark leaned over him, speaking loud as he shook the demon. “Keh-yah?”
“Mark?”
Mark froze at the sound of Nathaniel, a chill running down his spine. He hadn’t realised he had left the basement door open. “What are doing?” Nathaniel asked, sleepily as he rubbed his eyes. “It’s 6 am, why are you yelling so louuuu…” Nathaniel stopped rubbing as he focused on the scene below him, the basement light bathing the room in a dull, yellow glow.
His face said it all.
“Father Mark...? What are doing?” He asked, quiet, serious, voice growing suspicious as he stepped down into the basement. Mark stood with his back to the young priest, leaning over the bed to cover the demon as best he could. “Nothing.” He replied quickly, turning to face the young priest. ‘You idiot Mark, why did you say that? It’s clearly not nothing!’ He thought, mentally kicking himself.
“Father… That’s not nothing… Wait, is-is that a person?!” Nathaniel’s voice heightened in confusion as he got closer, glimpsing Keh-yah. The young priest approached the bed, looking down at Keh-yah, who moaned slightly. “He’s sick?! He should be in a hospital not in your damn baseme-”
“I can’t!” Mark yelled, sweat pouring from his brow. ‘Fuck. My cover’s blown. Shit. Fuck. Shit… Fuck…’
“I can’t take him to a hospital!”
Nathaniel looked at him like he was crazy. “Why not? Mark, this… this is insane! You can’t lock a guy up in your basement, especially when he’s hurt! He needs a hospital! I need to call the police.” Nathaniel turned to leave but Mark grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Mark. Let me go.” Nathaniel spoke, his voice wavering slightly.
“I can’t take him to a hospital… because he’s not a human…” Mark spoke slowly, watching as Nathaniel scowled, shaking his head. “Uh, yeah he is. Look at him, he’s…” Nathaniel stopped as Keh-yah groaned, opening his eyes.
“What the… why is… I- I… What?” Nathaniel stuttered as he took a step back. Mark raised his hands and tried to reason with the priest. “Nathaniel, this is Keh-yah and he’s a… demon... And he’s hurt, badly… Annnnnd I’m looking after him.” Mark grew quieter and quieter as he spoke aloud the words that suddendly made this feel more real.
Nathaniel’s brow creased. “Yeah, well you’re great job!” He snapped back, gesturing his hand at Keh-yah who looked around, delirious.
“What’s going on…?” Keh-yah breathed sleepily, black eyes seeming to fix onto Mark and Nathaniel. “Why are therrrre… two... of you?” His speech stirred a little as he tired to sit up, before wincing and laying back down. “What’s happening…?” He whispered, eyes sliding shut.
As he passed out, he whispered a words in the strange language, the same one he spoke last time. “What’s happened? Is he okay?” Nathaniel stepped forward, suddenly concerned for the creature.
“He’s passed out, I think he’s gone septic. I was so focused on his chest wound that I forgot about the others and… maybe the water weakened his immune system… He threw up a lot…” Nathaniel wasn’t listening as Mark talked to himself, instead he was counting the fingers on Keh-yah’s had and taking in the wounds. “He needs antibiotics or something.” Keh-yah mumbled something in his sleep, turning his head again, his chest rising and falling with shaky breaths.
“Last time I gave him human medicine he had a seizure.” Nathaniel looked at Mark, confused. “Last time?! How long have you been looking after him?!”
Mark looked back at the demon, sighing. “Almost 4 and a half weeks now… He was getting so much better too, I don’t know what happened.” Running his hand over his balding head, Mark sighed, pacing the room. “I don’t know else to do. You’re right, he needs antibiotics, but how do we get them? We can’t take him to a hospital, and even then, what if they don’t work? ”
He rubbed his face as he thought, the stress making him feel even more confused. “What about antiseptic?” Nathaniel suggested. “Tried that. Didn’t do much.” Mark’s thoughts went to the holy water.
If it cured the cursed infection… He began running up the stairs, leaving a confused Nathanial behind. “Where are you going!?” He called out, Mark turning his head as he replied, “Holy water! It worked to clear an infection before… I can only hope it works now.”
When Mark returned, Nathaniel was looking skeptical. “I mean, I believe in the power of God, but this feels a little asinine, Father.” Mark shot him a look as he poured the water into a bowl. Keh-yah seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, moaning deliriously. “Sorry, buddy… This is gonna suck.”
Dipping a cloth in the water, Mark pressed it into a wound. Keh-yah shot up, hissing and flashing his forked tongue as he writhed in pain. Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide as he took a step back, his hand grasping his chest. Keh-yah slumped forward, panting, as Mark tended to his wounds ever more, his shaking shoulders rising and falling as he swallowed the pain.
After many tense minutes, the wounds on his torso and arms were clean, and Mark sat on the bed as he did the demon’s legs. Keh-yah would wince and twitch occasionally, but he was holding it in well, even though Mark knew it would feel like acid on his skin. Keh-yah squeezed the sheets of the bed, his fingers digging into the mattress every time the water touched his skin, grinding his teeth loudly through soft moans.
“Hey, scream if you need.” Mark encouraged, looking into Keh-yah’s strange, black eyes. “It makes it hurt less, trust me.”
All Keh-yah heard the priest tell him to scream. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing him submit to the pain… ‘They aren’t them… They aren’t them…’ He reasoned, and allowed a small gasp slipped from his lips, his stomach rippling as the pain streaked through him again. A low, quiet groan turned into a louder one, before a loud, gut wrenching scream reverbarated through the basement, shocking even Nathaniel and Mark.
Arching his back, he pushed his shoulders into the bed as tears began to fall, all the pent up pain inside him suddenly spilling out between in gasping breaths. After a few more screams, he had run out of breath, his throat raw as he gasped, before finally his eyes rolled back and his muscles relaxed. The last thing he heard was a strange buzz as he passed out.
“He’s passing out!” Nathaniel called out as Keh-yah’s crushing grip loosened from the sheets “Let him go, the water usually does that. It hurts him, real bad, like acid.” Mark murmured as he finished up. “I’m nearly done anyway, just clearing up the last couple wounds…” He sighed, sitting back and glancing at Nathaniel who was standing by the bed, pale and shocked.
Mark met his eyes, “So, uh…”
Nathaniel shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say… That was… terrifying. He’s terrifying…” He pointed a shaking finger at Keh-yah, before he sat on the basement floor, running his hands through his hair. Mark shuffled over to him, sitting beside him and wrapping his arm around his shaking shoulders.
“Keh-yah turned up on my doorstep, inches from death. I chose to look after him, but I need to keep him secret... To keep him safe. If the church finds out, I’m harbouring a demon…” Nathaniel nodded, unsure of what to say. His mind was racing as he tried to comprehend what he had just seen.
Then it hit him…
“Wait...” He breathed, “I saw him one night. He scared a man in the kitchen away. I dropped a glass and broke it… I thought it was all a weird dream…” He looked up as Keh-yah moaned softly, coming to his senses.
“Quicker than last time.” Mark muttered as he rose and went to the demon’s side. “Hey, how you feeling?” Keh-yah managed to make a quiet, strangled sounding groan, before pushing up on his elbows. His whole body was shaking as he tried to stay up.
Mark helped him, sitting him up, noticing how much he was trembling. “Did you want some clothes? Warm up?” Keh-yah’s cheeks were still flushed as he shook his head dejectedly, bringing a palm to his forehead. “Did you want anything? Food? Drink?” Another head shake, he whispered something. Mark leaned in closer to catch the rasping voice that caught in awkward places. “Bl-hu-ud…” Mark frowned, looking concerned. “I don’t know what you mean… Blood? I don’t have any blood…”
Mark repeated the phrase over and over… His mind drifting to how effective the holy water had been… “Wait… WAIT!” He exclaimed, rushing from the basement.
~~
Nathaniel sat alone, staring at the demon from his spot on the floor. He traced every strained muscle and scar on his body with his eyes, taking in the creature’s body. He felt a slight, warm tingle in his chest.
“Whaddryou starin… ad…?” Keh-yah mumbled, side eyeing him.
“Sorry.” Nathaniel inched away a little, looking at the floor. He was scared of this creature, Keh-yah intimidated him and he couldn’t wrap his head around any of this.
Keh-yah certainly wasn’t what he thought a demon would look like.
Mark returned with the sacraments, the Body and Blood of Christ. Sitting by Keh-yah who looked up at him with a sigh, Mark grimacing. “Try this…”
The demon nodded, and Mark handed him the small circular bread and a cup. Keh-yah swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting with a slouch. Raising the bread to his mouth, he bit into it.
Mark and Nathaniel stifled a gasp as blood pooled out from the bread. Keh-yah smirked a little, before he licked it off with his snake like tongue, then ate it whole. He took a sip of the wine ignoring this strange sound it made, as if it were screaming, the metallic scent of blood filling the room. He ate and drank silently, savouring the divine taste of the thick blood washing through his body. It felt like he was being infused with life itself.
Blood, the most sacred of food for a demon and he was tasting it, pure, thick, warm blood for the first time in years, decades...
When he had finished, he collapsed back into the bed with a blissful moan, the sensation of every nerve in his body firing at once as he sighed, satisfied. A contented hum filled his chest as he purred with pleasure, his mind going fuzzy as he enjoyed the waves of pure ecstasy washing over him.
He felt more alive in this moment than he had in a long time, a warm buzz filling his body as he smiled, dazed and drunk on literal life.
As the pleasant buzzing, warmness faded, Keh-yah came back to himself, blinking as Mark leaned over his face. “Hey, you okay? I think we lost you there for a second… what happened?” He sounded concerned.
“It’s fine…” Keh-yah whispered, his tongue felt thick and rough, like sandpaper. “I just… I haven’t felt joy in a very long time.” Sitting, he smiling drunkenly, tired, but with more colour in his face. His pale, ghostly skin seemed to be going a more human skin colour, a light brown.
He looked more radiant as he stared at the priests, before sighing. “You two go about your day. I need to rest while I’m comfortable. This will wear off soon and I want to be asleep when it does.” The demon mumbled as he lay down slowly, sighing. The priests both nodded, leaving the basement. Nathaniel’s mind was reeling, but a tiny part of him was excited the demon was real... And an even tinier part of his mind was already imagining... Nathaniel shook the thought from his mind. He shouldn't be thinking about men, demons or sick male demons like that.
It. Was. A. Sin.
~~
Keh-yah’s eyes opened slowly as he glanced around. In a moment of panic, he thought he was back in the cell. He jumped up, scrambling for the door, his legs hardly able to climb the stairs as he burst up into the light of the main rectory, collapsing to his knees and panting as he shook in fear.
The tips of Mark’s shoes appeared in his vision and he felt his body being lifted up and walked to the lounge room. Keh-yah was laid back against the soft cushions as he tried to slow his breathing, his mind slowing down as the world stopped spinning. He realised his chest was heaving, so he placed a hand on it to calm it down. Once he caught his breath, he leaned forward and hung his head, resting his elbows on his knees as he let out a final, shuddering breath.
The three of them sat in silence, as Keh-yah leaned back against the sofa. He groaned, rubbing his face, before looking to the two priests. Nathaniel was staring at him, but Mark was watching him with concern.
“What?” Keh-yah spat, embarrassed. “You were sleeping for hours, and then you burst through the basement door having a panic attack, I’m concerned about you Keh-yah.” Mark spoke calmly and firmly, coming to sit beside the demon, making him flinch. Keh-yah glared at the wall in front of him and bared his teeth, the memories flashing through his mind. “You don’t have to right now, but I think you should tell me what happened to you… Maybe I can help?” A dark look crossed Keh-yah’s face.
“You can’t help me.” He whispered, shaking his head.
“No one can.”
~~
It had been three days since the panic attack, and Keh-yah had spent it pacing around the house all day and all night. He hadn’t slept, only sitting down when Mark forced him over to the sofa to treat his wounds. He hadn’t eaten anything, not even sacraments for days and it was starting to hinder his healing.
So, after changing Keh-yah’s dressings, Mark had decided to be a little more absolute, guiding the demon to the table before he could stalk off, despite Keh-yah's complaints. Once he brought the demon over, he sat the sick creature in front of a large, raw chicken wing.
But didn’t work, he hadn't touched it.
Keh-yah’s tired eyes had met Mark’s, his fangs shining as he bared them slightly. His body was shaking a little, and he looked gaunt, weak and sick.
“You won’t get better if you don’t eat.” Mark remarked flatly, taking a bite of his own food. He sounded like he was telling a toddler if they didn’t eat dinner they wouldn’t get desert.
Keh-yah exhaled sharply, letting Mark fully know his displeasure, but began slowly picked at the wing in silence. He was a very quiet creature, but the fact he ate without so much as a sound was slightly unnerving. He began picking at the the small chunks of meat on the raw chicken wing, before yanking off a bone, snapping it in half with his teeth, and beginning to crunch. He put the other half back on his plate, looking at Mark, who seemed less than pleased.
“You done?” Mark asked, sounding unimpressed.
Sighing, Mark sat back, “If you don’t want to eat, you can leave, you know. I’ll keep the food for later if you want it.” ‘Lord, give me strength. He’s acting like a teenager… I don’t know what to do.’ Mark prayed, his mind wandering.
Keh-yah was silent for a moment, looking at his lap, mumbling something. “What?” Mark asked, frowning. “I can’t…” Keh-yah mumbled again, slightly louder this lime. Nathaniel looked over at him, sensing the building rage. “What do you mean you… can’t? His timid voice wavered as the demon’s eyes flicked to him.
“I can’t… stand…” He whispered, pushing his plate weakly from in front of him, and placing his arms on the table, pressing his face into them.
Mark got up, concerned and made his way over to Keh-yah, touching his shoulder and causing him to flinch back. He toppled from the chair and fell to the ground with a grunt. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he whined before collapsing into the floor. He moved his legs weakly, trying to claw his way to the sofa, but was too weak to even do that. Mark wrapped his arms around Keh-yah’s waist, pulling him to his feet and slinging his arm over his shoulders. He helped the demon walk on extremely shaky legs to the sofa, laying him down on it.
“What’s wrong Keh-yah? Tell me.” He wasn’t asking this time.
“Long term exposure… to holy water…” the demon whispered, looking pale as cold sweats broke out on his forehead. “It’s weakening me more... I lost my appetite yesterday... Eating’s gonna make me...” Keh-yah shuddered, holding back a gag.
Mark murmured a prayer, placing a hand on Keh-yah’s chest and feeling the bounding heart rate. Keh-yah, however, was not enjoying how handsy Mark was being. Shrugging him off, he rolled and faced his back to the priest, wrapping his arms around his waist.
“Keh-y-”
“-Just stop it Mark… Please. I just want to be alone right now.” Keh-yah interrupted weakly. Groaning, Mark bit back. “You’re wasting away Keh-yah! Let me help you, please.” Taking a breath, Mark realised he was raising his voice when he saw Keh-yah curl in on himself, shuddering.
He didn’t get why he was so frustrated with the demon. It’s not like he had ever been friendly to him. He was either unconscious or snapping at him, though Mark sensed Keh-yah was at least giving him the demon version of respect, despite the rude comments.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just stressed and worried about you. Something has you all spooked and you’re driving yourself up the wall.” He glanced at Nathaniel, sitting at the dinner table. “Us too, all this pacing around all night. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.”
Keh-yah’s body sagged as he sighed, before he rolled slowly and stiffly onto his back, his voice dejected and weak. “Well, I’m not. So, there’s your answer.” His eyes moved in their sockets, glinting as Mark met them with his own, stern stare. The demon whispered a strange phrase, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation.”
Keh-yah sat up slowly. Mark wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and Keh-yah’s mind travelled back as he recounted night of his capture.
~~
Siberia, USSR, 1948.
Keh-yah stood from the grass, black cloak sodden from the rain. At least he was covered by the haze of the mist. His body was cold and but he didn’t shiver as he trudged through the mud, the rain quickly turning to sleet as he walked. He was a demon, cold did not affect him like a human. He was not human at all.
He was much more powerful, faster and stronger, he healed faster, his hearing and smell was better. He was invincible. Mostly... At his full strength, like now, he was practically invincible, but he had to maintain it to be able to keep going. Everything had a weakness, and this was his.
Keh-yah could sense something following him. Quietly, he sank to his knees, his form melting to reveal his true body, fangs, black eyes and all. If he was going to fight, he was going to use all his power.
“I’m done running.” He growled under his breath. He gripped the hilt of his sword as he unsheathed it, the iridescent, glass like blade almost invisible in the rain. Calming his breaths, he looked at the large, round, humanoid shape appearing in the sleet. “Of course they sent a golem.” He sneered, eyes narrowing as the grey shape materialised more and more. It was about 8 feet tall, with tough, leather like skin and two, glowing, pinprick eyes. Golem were blinder than anything but could smell anything they wanted to track, and that thing... was currently Keh-yah.
Silently, Keh-yah readied himself, waiting as the golem stepped into his striking range. With a few expert slashes, the creature’s guts spilled into the mud and it fell forward with a grunt. The thick, black blood of the creature spurted out, covering the cloak and weighing it down anymore. Shedding it, Keh-yah shook his head. “What a waste of a noble creature. But it will take more than you to take me down.” He whispered to the corpse as the spirit pulled itself away from the body and faded into the rain.
Frowning, Keh-yah turned, sensing more creatures in the sleet. He glanced around as, coming from all directions he was surrounded. “Great, I was looking for some harder competition.” He felt the familiar sensation gravity falling in on itself as he teleported from the center of the circle to the edge, taking out a few armoured soldiers, then popping to the other side of it, taking out more. He couldn’t keep teleporting, it would take up too much energy, but he could still fight all these Angels.
There were about 20 left, and Keh-yah knew he could take them. He readied his sword, panting slightly, watching as the soldiers began to attack. His body moved fluidly as he wove his way through them, droplets of blood flying into the air and scattering across his face. He felt to warmth of his powers fill him as he danced around the soldiers, impaling and slashing them with ease.
Soon he stood in the sleet, exposed in only his thin armour, blood and water droplets racing down his face as he panted. His shoulders rose and fell as small wisps of steam curled up from his warm body. He smirked slightly, trust the Angels to send their general soldiers to kill him. They were beyond easy to defeat, like a hot knife through butter.
“Poor souls.” He muttered under his breath staring at the bodies surrounding him. A chill rushed down his spine at that very moment…
More soldiers, but these, they were not any soldiers, these were the elite of the elite.
The Sacred Guard.
Looking up, Keh-yah grinned wickedly. “Finally, some excitement!” He called out the the silhouettes, looking to rile them up.
It worked.
Without warning a large Angel appeared behind him, Keh-yah only just managing to block the oncoming sword. Twisting out of the way, he laughed, his voice echoing around the Angels, “You came looking for a fight?!” before appearing behind the large soldier. “Well you just got one.” He murmured before running his sword clean through their back. The soldier crumpled. “Who’s next?” He snarled, readying his sword, still dripping with blood.
He fought off oncoming attacks for minutes, fighting the Sacred Guard until a sword came swinging out of nowhere. Blocking it a hair’s width from his face, Keh-yah gritted his teeth, using all his strength to push back against the sword. It wasn’t enough. With a scream he shoved the swordsman, sending them stumbling back as Keh-yah hunched over, panting. When he looked up, two white, glowing irises in a sea of black sclera were looking through the tendrils of his long, black hair at a face he didn’t want to see.
Daga.
The Angel had short, well groomed, grey hair, now flattened in the rain. His ice blue eyes stared at Keh-yah as he steadied himself for the next attack. Keh-yah sheathed his sword, holding out his hand sand watching as the skin turned pitch black and trailed up his fingers, over his wrists and stopped just below his forearms. A thick, pulsing ball of black shadow accumulated in front of him as he ripped it in two, one for each hand and sent two pulses of pure, black energy flying at the Angel.
Daga laughed, blocking the magic and throwing his own white light back. The Sacred Guards had all stopped to watch this one on one duel with the two incredibly ancient and powerful creatures.
“Give up, you are defeated!” Daga yelled, cackling as lighting streaked across the sky.
He sent large pulses of energy flying at Keh-yah with amazing speed, but Keh-yah merely lifted a hand and as the pulses streaked by. As they passed him he caught them in his own field, throwing them back at Daga, who dived into the mud to barely escape them. Daga shot more light at the demon who held out a hand, stopping it in its’ tracks, before shattering it.
Keh-yah took the advantage of the situation, driving onto the Angel and biting his face with his fangs, ripping a chunk of his cheek free. Keh-yah spat it out, going in for another bite, only for the Angel to block it at the last minute.
“It’s over, you’ve lost demon!” He growled at Keh-yah, grinning as a snide smile crept across his face. “You kill me, the entire Sacred Army will descend onto you. Every soldier is here, because you are the only one left to hunt.”
The glowing light faded from Keh-yah’s eyes as they grew wide. “What?” He breathed, the second of weakness used by Daga to thrust him off.
“That’s right. Saath-gin-daah has fallen. Ered has fallen. Nem-hai has fallen, all at my hand! You, Keh-yah, are the last of your kind!”
Keh-yah felt the sword fall from his grip and land with a heavy thud in the mud. The rain seemed to ease a little as lightning flashed violently around them.
“No…” Keh-yah whispered. He had just been with the Council of the High Grym three days ago. They had all been alive. They all knew this was coming, but they had prepared, scattered, hidden... How could Daga have defeated the most powerful of Demons so fast?
Daga laughed at Keh-yah’s body as it sank into the mud slowly, his fingers curling around the sword and lifting it up.
With an enraged scream Keh-yah hurtled at Daga, swinging violently as he hissed at the Angel, no longer caring for his own safety. The Angel had to die.
After a few minutes of blocking slash after slash, Daga rolled his eyes and kicked Keh-yah in the stomach, sending him flying across the marsh. Keh-yah picked himself up, staggering as Daga sauntered forwards. Everything hurt, burned and ached. His lungs couldn’t get enough air as Keh-yah hunched over again, before falling to his knees. He could feel the fight draining from him.
There was nothing he could do.
Daga was right, he was dead either way, the least he could do was die knowing that he had guarded it until the end.
The secret would die with him.
Daga cackled as he looked down at the defeated Keh-yah. “Awww, don’t look so sad. The misery is only just staring for you.” He cooed at the kneeling demon. Keh-yah felt numb. Everyone was gone.
The whole world suddenly felt very cold, large and empty. He didn’t even notice the hilt of Daga’s sword coming down onto his skull until he heard the sickening crunch.
The demon fell face first into the mud, going limp. “Tie him up, then get moving! We have until nightfall!” Daga screamed at the Angel soldiers, who rushed forwards. Attaching the specially made shackles, they sighed in relief, knowing the demon was virtually powerless now.
A large guard picked up the limp demon from the mud, carrying Keh-yah’s body to a waiting cart. They held out the demon for another guard to bind him by the wrists and feet, before throwing Keh-yah hard onto the cart, climbing in after and getting locked inside.
An hour into the trip, he watched the demon twitch, coming to for a brief moment, before it’s creepy black eyes rolled back and it passed out again. Many more hours into the trip he came around again, groaning in pain and looking around confused as it tried to make sense of the darkness. The sun had set long before and they were navigating in the dark, not that that bothered them, Angels and Demons could see well in the dark... Except in his weakened state, he probably couldn't.
The soldier grinned, chuckling as he raised a heavy, armour clad fist and brought it down against the demon’s skull with a crunch. A tiny sigh slipped from his lips as Keh-yah went still once again. When he would awake again, it would be in a cell, a fitting place for scum like him.
~~
“They killed every one of my kind, except me, whittling us down until they knew I was the only one left. Then, they hunted me down like an animal.” Keh-yah finished, his voice faint and face haunted, black tears brimming in his eyes.
Nathaniel had glanced at Mark, as Keh-yah’s tears trailed down his cheeks. “So that means…” Mark trailed off.
“Yes.” Keh-yah breathed.
“I am the last of my kind.”
“But I thought demons were immortal?” Nathaniel piped up, earning a stern glare from Mark.
Keh-yah chuckled dryly, tiredly, as if he’d had to explain it before. “I am immortal in the sense I have no natural life span. I can live forever, and it would take a lot more to kill me than say, a human. But nothing is truly unkillable. Anything will die if it is ripped to enough pieces.” He smiled grimly.
“But the only reason I’m not dead is because they wanted me alive. They could easily have killed me if they wanted to, and I was kept inches from death many times, but they didn’t let me die. That would have been a mercy, but then the secret they want to know would die with me. They value it too much to lose it, so they tried to torture it out of me instead.”
Nathaniel frowned, “What secret?”
Mark sighed, slapping his forehead. “Well it wouldn’t be a closely guarded secret if he told you.” Keh-yah smiled, he seemed to enjoy this conflict. “The secret I hold is our most sacred power as a demon of my kind. I am the last creature that knows how to cross the barrier between life and death.”
Mark frowned this time, sitting back and processing this news. “So wait, you’re dead or can come back from the dead? I don’t understand.” Keh-yah sighed, tired of the questions but rolled his eyes, even though a slight smirk began creeping over his lips. “I am alive, I just so happen to be able to cross the threshold between life and death to take spirits across it. I do not have to be dead when I do it, but I’m not exactly alive either. I’m... briefly, truly immortal.” Mark froze, turning his head to Keh-yah.
“So that means you’re… a grim reaper.”
Keh-yah shrugged, “I prefer the term: the physical manifestation of the human concept of death. But, yes. In layman’s terms, I… am a grim reaper.” He sighed.
“I am death.”
He let the words hang in the air, as the two humans stared at him with new eyes. Groaning, Keh-yah massaged his temples. “If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead already. And besides, I don’t kill people, they die and I take their spirit to the ‘great beyond’. Think of it as cleaning up the spirits who don’t wanna leave...” He grimaced, before glancing at the priests, flashing his fangs and laying back into the sofa.
“I know you will think of me differently now, but I am no different to how I was befo-"
“No. You’re still Keh-yah, and I am still looking after you until you are well.” Mark interrupted the demon, who looked gratefully at Mark, bowing his head. That was definitely a demonic sign of respect.
Nathaniel was sitting silently, rubbing his chin. “What happens if the Angels find out the how to cross the barrier too?” He looked at Keh-yah, who’s face grew dark. “Then they will try to become truly immortal, try to never die. They want to raise an immortal army... And if they do... The Day of Reckoning will be upon us all.” The demon concluded flatly. The two priests looked at each other.
It suddenly dawned on them how secret they had to keep Keh-yah.
~next~
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"It was all worth it, wasn't it?" OC Oneshot
Prompt by @whumpcember - prompt: fire - day 17
(Half)Angel!Whumper, (Half)Demon!Whumpee
CW: Talk of religion/Religion being used an excuse for abuse, referenced/mentioned abuse - please let me know if I missed something
-
"There, there.. See? It doesn't hurt so bad now."
Wrong. It did hurt still. A lot. But Whumpee doesn't bother saying so - for all they knew, Whumper already knew Whumpee was still in pain from the latest cleansing ritual and was just waiting for them to complain. They just nodded their head meekly before resting in back on Whumper's lap.
Whumper let go of Whumpee's hands, both blistered beyond recognition - oh if they could just have bottled the cries of pain that escaped Whumpee's lips when it had happened. They could listen to that all day - Whumpee deserved it, didn't they? They were a devil - well half one but still - they had to have done something to displease Father, and that is worthy of punishment. What better than punishment while cleansing them?
It was all going to be worth it - redemption was worth the pain. Whumper was helping them get redeemed, they just had to trust the process.
The angel ran a hand through Whumpee's hair - the unholiness they felt was enough to want to throw Whumpee back into hell where they belong. But they were a half-breed just as Whumper, and even they deserved the smallest glimmer of hope that things would get better.
They would not, but Whumper enjoyed this a little too much to burst the demon's bubble - it was their job after all to redeem Whumpee in anyway they could.
"It was all worth it, wasn't it, Whumpee? You don't want to give up on redemption now, do you? After we've come so far.."
"It was all worth it.. Thank you, Whumper." Their voice sounded weak and rough, maybe from the screaming, maybe from the holy water they had drunk for the ritual - maybe it was both.
Whumper sighs contentedly at Whumpee's words. They both knew Whumpee would just get sent to the fires of hell the mere moment they decided they didn't want redemption or it just wasn't worth it.
Whumpee remembered the fires of hell well, and was in no hurry to return. The tortures of there was worse than the cleansing rituals here. They'll take Whumper's occasional cruel words and the harsh slap when they were being stupid, and the painful rituals over hell.
"I would get some rest if I were you. You'll need it for tomorrow."
This was one request Whumpee gladly followed and they were glad Whumper had saw their eyes start to droop from where they rest in their lap.
Whumpee kept his head at an awkward angle to keep it resting on the angel's lap - Whumper's demand request - while the rest of them stayed on the floor. They slept, but not very restfully - visions of torture and death filling their mind each time the demon closed their eyes. It disgusted Whumper, but there wasn't much they could do about it.
Whumpee didn't know how long they "slept" but they were woken up with a, "You've slept long enough. We can't keep Father waiting."
From this angle, Whumpee couldn't see the awful smile on Whumper's lips. It was another day, another ritual.
It was all worth it. It had to be.
-
[Word count: 523]
#whumpcember2023#whumpcemberday17#angel whumper#demon whumpee#whump#whump writing#microfic#cw religion#cw referenced/mentioned abuse
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Demon's Haven 12
💥Flashback chapter💥
this is lowkey highkey inspired by @seasaltandcopper 's "House Rules" so go check that out its got vampire whumpee getting whipped
but ye Envy backstory time
—
masterlist
warnings: blood, torture, whipping, partial nudity, weird thoughts on purity and sin that isn't specifically mentioned as religion but pretty close
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Envy hung from the chains, unrelenting in his pursuit of escape. He’d yet to find a way to free himself, and with the silver dampening his powers and his influence, it was more of a struggle than he cared to admit. It lined the outside of the wrist cuffs, inscribed with some kind of sigils Envy couldn’t make out. He was just glad it wasn’t on the inside of the metal, for if it touched his skin, it’d burn. He didn’t shudder at the idea. He definitely didn’t.
He knew he could find a way out if he tried hard enough. Sure, he had never heard of a demon surviving an attack by an angel, but this was not an attack. The angel wasn’t actively coming for his life. She’d probably like to think she could hurt him, but he would best her sooner or later. Envy was the most intelligent, if not the most powerful of his demon brothers, so this wouldn’t be a challenge for him.
Or so he hoped.
The angel stepped into the room holding a long, wiry object that trailed the stone floor and glinted in faint torchlight. Silver, of course. Envy rolled his eyes. Everything had to be made of silver. The angel caught him staring.
“It has to be pure,” the angel told him referencing the metal she knew he was eyeing. “I am going to make you pure,” she said.
Envy spat at the feet of the approaching creature. She stared at him, locking his eyes with hers in an intense battle of wills, a wicked thrall. It hurt to look upon the angel, her form radiating soft light. The divinity of the angels was for demons how staring directly into the sun was for humans.
But Envy still had his pride, so he tightened his jaw and refused to look away.
The angel came closer and raised the object she had in her hands, which Envy could now identify as a whip. His stomach leapt into his throat and he swallowed, forcing down the riotous fear that thrashed inside him. He would not give the angel the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. Surely, surely she didn’t mean to actually use that on him, right? The silver he’d spotted lined the entire length of it, something that would poison and burn as it bit into his flesh and blood.
The black leather of the thing contrasted to the stark brightness of the silver. It made a tinny sound as it dragged across uneven stone. Panic ricocheted through his body, a cold spike of fear racing up and down his spine. He didn’t let any of it show on his face. The silence echoed in the dim chasm, lit only the angel’s glow and the crackling torchlight. Envy tightened his hands into fists.
He’d been shirtless and barefoot when he first woke up in the cell, so he was left with nothing but slacks, leaving left his back wide open for the angel. With his hands chained above his head, there was nothing he could do to protect himself.
She wouldn’t—
Envy’s breath hitched. The angel’s eyes stared at him, cold and unrelenting.
She absolutely would.
He struggled harder in his chains, the rattling increasingly loud in his ears. A discordant symphony with the frantic beating of his heart. He needed to free himself. He needed to escape now. He pulled on the chains, disregarding how they dug into his wrists—tugging, pulling, nearly wrenching his shoulders out of their sockets, and still he was no further than where he started.
Get me out of here!
The angel just stood and watched.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she said. “You must be good. You must behave.”
Envy sneered at her. His eyes burned with the fires of Hell, and that was not a metaphor—he’d seen them.
The angel moved behind Envy, trailing the whip along with her at a leisurely pace. Envy gulped, hating himself for it. A crack. A whoosh of air. Then pain. Blinding, white-hot pain that blurred the world for a few seconds, sending Envy stumbling. He was and he was not for that single moment. An empty shell that saw nothing but light and fury. He arched his back and sucked in a breath, managing not to make any more sound than a quiet hiss but already feeling dizzy and light-headed.
The angel struck again, creating another line of fire across Envy’s back. A thin strip of blood, but he felt it throughout his whole body, the pain lancing up his spine and straight through his abdomen. He caught himself unable to take in air for a moment. His ears were ringing and his stomach roiled. He tried to brace himself but for what, for what?
Another strike.
Envy jerked in his chains as he arched his back, trying to draw away from the source of pain but it was everywhere everywhere everywhere he was not meant for this he couldn’t handle it please stop please—
He drew a shallow breath to try and steady himself. It came out shaky. The angel struck again.
The whip carved a line from his shoulders down to hips. On top of the wounds, the silver dug into his skin with each lash, tainting his blood and burning it, sending signals of pain flooding through his veins.
Another stroke of the whip. Another. Another.
His whole body quivered. The tremors that wracked his body had the chains make an ever-present rattling sound to accompany the startlingly loud crack of the whip. Sweat beaded up on his forehead. Envy gritted his teeth; he wouldn’t scream. He would never. But he wanted to.
He couldn’t do this.
The lashes came faster and faster now and Envy felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He threw his head back, arcing with the force of the strokes. Suppressed groans fought to be free of his throat. Hitching, gasping breaths overlaid his gentle quivering.
All the while, the angel murmured to him that this was going to make him pure. That if he was good, this would all be over. He didn’t know how to be good. He did know that nothing he did would ever fulfill the angel’s vision of good—he was already damned the moment she realized what he was.
Despite the many lashes that now marred his back, or the shaking of his body and the weakness of his legs, or the fact that he knew these chains were the only reason he was still upright and not on the floor, he would not submit.
“You will burn,” he snarled at the angel, who responded to this not with words but action.
Envy didn’t know how long it lasted. He didn’t know how long he’d been there. He almost forgot his own name, everything had been blurred out with pain. There was nothing else. He had no beginning and no end and was merely an amorphous cloud of thoughts and nerve endings.
Shattered.
He was a vase that had been knocked from a shelf and broke into a million pieces as it hit the floor; he was a mirror punched in a fit of rage that sliced open bruised knuckles. He would know—he’d done both of those things.
He gulped down air greedily into his lungs but there was never enough. Never enough comprised his entire life, his whole meaningless existence, but only this moment was what truly defined him. Only this pain, and beyond that, he knew of nothing else.
He hardly registered the damage done to his wrists. He’d pulled them so fiercely and thrashed so violently that the thick manacles had scratched the skin raw. Blood seeped from patchy wounds to fall prey to gravity that led each drop in rivulets down his arms.
His back was tatters and scraps by now. The blood flowed freely and the silver poisoned him, burned him, purified him. He was broken and made new only to be broken again and he screamed. He tried not to. He held in the sound at first, gritting his teeth and setting his jaw. He thought it might break with the force of his stupid, prideful restraint. He clenched his hands into fists, the nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms, but that pain was miniscule compared to the lashes he received on his back that he’d since lost count of.
It had started with a low hissing sound, a whisper of air that escaped through clenched teeth. Then a gasp, drawn in before he stop it. Grunts of pain clipped short, getting harder to do with each stroke of the whip, each bite of the silver that reminded him of his impurity and sin.
He didn’t want to give the angel the satisfaction. But he was not meant for this. He’d never been hurt like this before. He simply wasn’t strong enough to stand it.
So, he screamed. He screamed until his throat was sore and raw and ragged, his voice petering out into a dry hacking cough that sent jolts of pain through his fresh injuries with the movement.
And still, the angel continued.
—
next
(taglist in reblogs)
#whump#whump writing#my writing#willow writes#original work: demon’s haven#demon whump#demon whumpee#angel whumper#oc envy#the angel doesnt actually a name yet oops#religion tw
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