Day of Demonics

My baby was born on the thirtieth of October; I wished it were the first of November... She was born with deep black hair, and violet eyes. I had no idea where the violet had come from; it seemed to be her fathers' blue and my slightly reddish brown without the brown, melding together. When she was born, she was taken away from me. My baby was taken by demons, and I begged everyone to help me but... no one believed in demons. No one even believed I'd had a baby.

Eryka:

I wake up, my bed of bones and decaying flesh waking me with its putrid scent like it has several times a night since I was old enough to sleep in it. Apparently when I was a babe, I slept with my father, the demon with black hair and blue eyes that disguised himself as human to be with my mother. He took me from my crib one night and never gave me back. I'm only seven and already I have been taught to fight for my life, to kill or be killed. It has turned my violet eyes hard and cold. My hair was chopped short for convenience but I decided to grow it out, no matter what they said, I'd have my beautiful long hair. I wasn't human, I wasn't demon, I was both and yet neither. I decide that I'll be the best demon I can be even if I can't be as good a demon as my father. I'd do him proud, or I swear by god that I'd die trying.

I wake yet again, in the middle of the night, my own personal bed not smelling but poking me in the back a bit. I'd made my own bed after my thirteenth birthday like all demon spawn, made it of my own kills. It was all demons, demons that tried to take my place as princess or prince, tried to fight for their right to rule someday. But I held my own and killed them all. I had their bones picked clean and then I created my own bed mound with them. My father had asked me, "Are you certain you do not wish to keep the flesh on the bones? It would be far more comfortable and you could eat of their flesh anytime you wished."

"No father, I do not need their strength. I have my own." He had growled in that purring way he had and nodded at me. My father was seven feet tall with glowing blue eyes, black hair, red horns and a body covered in fur the color of his hair. His body was skeletal but not like a skeleton exactly, merely skinny and tall to a point. His body type was much sought after by the females, but he did not come to lay with demons at all. He preferred the soft body of a human female, he told me once. I'm seventeen now and I try very hard to be everything my father wants in a daughter. I am strong; I fight when I need to, threaten when I need to and kill when necessary.

I have not taken a man to my bed yet, though I have come close. My father says I still have the sweet smell of a virgin and it turns his stomach, I cannot do anything about it until I find someone I think will be strong enough to stand beside me. He must also be beautiful, I will not have an ugly mate, I deserve to have the best and I will have it.

I walk in the dark, my hair swirling about my body in a curtain of pure darkness. My eyes burn through the dark like a pair of demonic eyes is supposed to and my skin is so lightly pale red that I barely look demon-like at all. There are small bumps on my head, they will form small horns after I choose my demon male, they will be a way for him to hold me while we mate. They will also be another defense against those who would like to take my place. Demon women have breasts like human women but they're filled with acidic milk so the skin is tougher, scaled on the inside. I have soft human breasts with slightly acidic milk and slightly tougher inside skin, but the outside is soft as satin like any human woman's.

Many human men vie for my attention, thinking my reddish pale skin is exotic and not demonic in the least. I will not take a human male into my bed because there is no way for them to defend themselves against demons... other than, of course, the lords' prayer and other things of that nature. Crosses are disdained in my realm and many of the men in the human world wear them. I have no want for the burn of a cross in my skin.

There are a select few number of humans who know of demons. They either clamor to be mated to one or hunt them down. Demons only slaughter the humans that hunt them or stumble into their world and don't cooperate with the mating cycle. They rape them and tear them apart, sometimes eating their bodies sometimes not. The humans that salivate at the idea of a rape from a demon are the ones who are mated to them, and then sometimes it isn't all they thought it would be and they are killed for being weak and are replaced by a stronger mate.

I walk down the dusty road to find an old bar waiting in this, the middle of hell. There are males everywhere in the underground lairs so I have to travel around. I've looked for a strong demon to take to my bed for two years. I need to find one soon. Someone near as strong as my father, who's power will grow with age. Someday perhaps he will challenge my father and win, perhaps he will lose, but someone who would have the guts to try would be good.

I walk into the petrified wood of the front doors, swaying my hips as I enter the bar. They all look up, just a glance at first, and then a few keep the glance on me as I walk up to the stools that cover the front of the bar. I hop up on one and smile flirtatiously at the demon behind the bar. His chest is wide like a barrel and his waist is thin like my fathers', skeletal. His skin is scaled, rather than furred. Light purplish-black scales that cover his arms and some of his neck. His horns are rather large and impressive looking, I consider him but then I realize that if he were strong, he would be one of the served, not the server. I turn my eye to the room, watching them gnaw on the bones of their enemies and the bones of those weaker than they were. I make certain to puff out my chest, to display my breasts to their best advantage. Many of them take lingering looks at me in my leather off the shoulder, under a jacket attire, others staring outright and still others avoided looking at me at all. Perhaps I was too human for those.

I sigh in resignation, none of them had that hum of power that surrounded my father, none of them had as impressive a set of horns or skinny enough of a body. I got up and sighed, leaving the bar and stalking up to a portal to the other world, earth. I haven't been much but many of the demons went in human form for fun and to find someone to fuck in between mates. I didn't have a human form, I was too human to change my appearance and too demonic to look human after my first mating with another demon. After I found my mate I would never be able to travel here again.

I walk in on a massacre. It's a bar that's exclusively for demons, if the bouncers didn't sense a demonic aura, you didn't get in. I appear in front of it, sensing the death inside. I walk forward, pulling out my knife from the sheath straight across my waist in the back. It wasn't long, but it was sharp and wide, it'd do some serious damage to any demon. But what we had here was most likely human and likely to have guns, so I'd have to be careful.

I walk into the bar and hold my knife aloft, tucking and rolling when I hear the click of a trigger. There's a burst of gunfire over my head and I end up standing, staring at the man who shot at me. He aims the gun at me and asks, "You one of them? Or are you one of us? Identify yourself!" I raise the knife higher,

"I am Eryka, who are you?"

"I'm the one asking questions. Are you demon?"

"Do I feel demon?" I knew for a fact I did not. He took deep breaths and answered,

"Half of them felt less than demon."

"Do I feel demon at all?" He breathed slower now, his eyes darting over my form.

"Your skin's a funny color. And your eyes too."

"I was born with them. Most people just say I'm exotic, but funny-looking that's new." He looked like he was considering whether or not I was joking.

"Throw the knife down."

"Throw the gun down." He huffed, "If you won't do what you're asking then don't ask me to do it."

"Fine, we both keep our weapons then, but I'll point the gun away and you won't come any closer."

"Fine." He lowers his gun slowly, almost infinitesimally. When it's down, I relax slightly, watching warily for him to pull it up and shoot at me again. I take a good long look at him now.

He's lanky, as humans would say, his body thin yet muscular in a small way. He wouldn't stand up against a demon in a fistfight but I've seen smaller demons take on larger so what do I know? His hair was platinum blonde, a color so white it seemed to shine in the semi-darkness of the bar. It was short and cropped close to his head. His eyes were a dark blue color, deep and without innocence. His face wasn't lined so he had to be young, a bit older than I though because he was taller and all around bigger than I am. "Who are you?" I make certain I'm looking harmless while I stare him down. He answers this time,

"My name's Tom, Tom Lear."

"I already told you my name."

"Surname?" I thought about this. My father had told me my mothers' name once.

"Striker."

"Never heard of you before... are you new? You look young to be in this business."

"You look only a bit older than I."

"... I guess." He seems to be completely relaxed now, demons didn't have last names I suppose is what he told himself. Then I looked around. There were demons on the floor and demons dying still on the stairs and at the bar. He'd done this all, and done it singlehandedly. I look at him with respect, noting that even without any horns... he was rather impressive looking. He intrigued me, even more than any demon had ever done. But he thought I was one of his kind; a hunter. Perhaps he would never know, perhaps we'd never meet again. But I decided right then, that I wanted him. He was going to be my first, because he impressed me and I'm not easily impressed. I'd have to fight him first, it was a privilege to mate with me so I would have a fight with him first, then if he could stand against me, let alone win, I would let him fuck me.

"What you staring at?" His voice was slightly accented, not English, not Cajun, not Spanish... what is that...? Ah, it's a bit of broken English, like the people in Brooklyn, how they speak. He only has a hint of it to his speech but it's noticeable enough.

"Not staring, considering."

"Considering what?"

"I haven't met up with another of my kind before" Which is true, "Would you spar with me?" He looks astonished,

"You want to spar? Why?"

"I want to know if I'm any good or if all my kills have been just good luck." He considers this.

"No weapons I'm guessing?"

"No weapons." He nods and fits the strap of his gun over his body, slinging it onto his back. I put my knife up to keep from looking like I was still scared of him shooting me. If I was really human and a hunter, I had no business being afraid.

"We'll go to my place; I'll teach you a bit about guns since I see you've probably never used one. It's dangerous to get that close to a demon, to use a knife. All by itself you've killed with it?"

"A few times."

"I'll get you some guns." It was fairly sullen the way he said it, just saying it that way it's as if it was his solemn duty to teach me to protect myself properly. I follow him outside; I could taste the nobility in his blood. He was noble, pure. I wanted that purity.

He leads me to a truck, hidden by foliage and big rocks. I hop inside of the gigantic... hummer is what it said on the side. He gets in on the other side and turns it on. I jump slightly and he gives me a look. I smile benignly and look away, he turns back to the wheel and steers the giant thing out onto a road I hadn't noticed until now. It's a long while, my eyes drooping as I've been up all week with only a few hours' sleep each night. He notices, "You can sleep if you like, I'll guard your back." How gentlemanly. I smirked at him,

"I'm tired, not afraid. I'll wake if anything demonic comes anywhere near me." He scoffed but he smiled a little, probably having a laugh at my supposed ego. It was true though, my body sensed other demons moving and it woke up.

He drove for another hour after that, stopping at an old abandoned gas station. He let me out first and when I came around the side he had his gun out and was moving silently. Demons must hunt him as much as he hunts them then. I follow silently, he sweeps the area with his gun and I sigh because I can't sense a thing. Didn't he have the ability to sense demons? It sounded like it before. He seemed to sense my disbelief because he tells me, in a hushed tone, "You can never be too careful. We're not all-knowing." It's the most humble and yet smart thing I've ever heard that I give him another look of respect.

"No I suppose not." I can't run the risk of a demon seeing me in his presence. They'd refuse to fight me and give away what I was. But I didn't have to worry; we got inside without much event. He puts his gun up on a gun rack, easily accessible and there are guns all over his home. He picks up a box and opens it, pulling out a handgun. He walks over and hands it to me, butt first. I take it and look it over. He tells me, "Guns will help you more with demons than anything else. It'll take out half a big number and weaken the rest, only fight with that knife if you have no other choice... I'd say you were using it because you think you're pretty bad ass but you're not. I guarantee you'll die using that knife." All demons used were claws, horns and knives so he had no idea what he was talking about... but then I remember all the close calls and realize he might be right.

"All right, How do I use it?" He stands behind me, pulling my arms up and using his feet to widen my stance. I can smell his male odor and it mingles with my scent with him so close. It warms my body and my mind races to how his hands feel on my arms, soft and calloused.

"You stand like this, then you aim, and pull the trigger. Pull, don't squeeze."

"What's the difference?"

"Squeezing would slip your finger up to the top of the trigger and you wouldn't shoot it in time for what you needed it for. If you pull at the bottom, pull, don't squeeze, then it'll shoot when you need it, not ten seconds later."

"I'll remember that."

"See that you do." I leaned back into his body and he jumps a little, I look at him over my shoulder,

"What is it?" I am the picture of innocence as he swallows and tells me it's nothing.

He walks over and picks up a strappy leather thing from a clump of other strappy things. He walks over and helps me into it, taking my jacket off before anything. He places it over my shoulders and I shrug into it. It's a small holster, he shows me how to draw it quickly from my side and I practice a few times as he watches. "Don't pull it up, pull out, it'll get free in time don't worry." I stopped worrying. He showed me how to pull it straight out and I did it after a moment of trying. I smiled at him; he gave me a somewhat troubled look. "Don't go thinking you're an expert now."

"No sir." I make certain my voice is low and caresses his skin with soft feathers. He shivers almost imperceptibly and moves to the door, opening it and ushering me outside. He points to a few small cans sitting on a low partition. "If you can hit all those, one after another, then you're good to use it. Use it on low-level demons first, don't take any chances."

"So I shoot the cans?"

"Yeah, try it out." I sight down my arm and he tells me to close an eye if it helps. I do and it does seem to help a small bit. I fire and it doesn't hit a can, I fire again and it hits the partition. I fire once more and it just barely nicks a can, tipping it over. I try the next and it falls over, the next does as well. I've adjusted to the sight, the weight and the force it lets out.

"Now I think you can learn from there. Come inside, I'll get us both something to eat and drink. Then we can spar if you really want."

"Yes I'd like to." I was itching to feel his hands on me, violence or not I'd love every minute of our 'spar'. I would do what I could to get him to want me back, and then I would attack.

He leads me inside and walks over to a small mini-fridge. He pulls out two cans of grape soda and two packages with sandwiches in them. He walks over, "Sorry I've only got this; I don't really... have people with me." Ah he was alone. That made me so happy... He didn't already have a mate, so he was mine. I'd have taken him anyway but this means he'd be that much more eager to be with me.

"It's fine." I smile and open up the packet. I didn't eat much and it usually consisted of demonic animal flesh that made up my diet. I take a bite and find that I like the bologna and cheese sandwich. That's what it says on the package. Bologna... Ball... ogh... naa... I just wouldn't say that word if I could help it. "Do you like grape? It's my favorite so it's the only kind I buy." I smile, take a sip and feel the flavor burst on my tongue. I gasp at the acidic sting that comes with it. It was like demon blood!

"I like it!" He smiles at my surprise and seems to endear himself to my innocence. If only he knew. But he couldn't know, that was the point.

We finish eating and throw away the packages, and the cans. He puts his in a big trash can filled with them and I add mine to the pile, throwing the packaging into a different can. He motions to the door, "Let's do this outside, I don't want to break anything."

"Alright." I follow him out and he stands on a small square of perfectly green grass. It's beautiful, I drop down and stick my fingers in the dirt. It's dark and lush, very little chemicals in it. He looks over and I say, "This is very fertile dirt."

"Should be, it said it was when I bought it." Ah, a bit of vanity, something to make the place look good. "Start when I say so, alright?" He turns towards me and I stand, patting the dirt off onto my pants. I watch him with sharp eyes and he waits until I'm standing up straight to say, "Go." He's a blur then, so fast it was almost demonic as he came at me. He knocks me to the ground and I roll him over, my hand at his neck as we settle with me on top. I shift my weight, making sure to grind into his hips with my own as I press on his windpipe. He reaches up and grabs my hands lifting them away surprisingly easily. His strength is almost demonic as well. He flips me over and pins my hands, my knees come up and push him in a vault away from my body. But that's not what I want so I get up close again, landing a hit to his gut and taking him to the ground again. He flips me over his head and I roll, getting to my knees and then rolling again to dodge him. I jump to my feet and grasp his reaching hands in my own, jumping close and snapping my teeth in his face. He's surprised into a flinch and I knock into his stomach with my knee, kicking the breath from his body. He landed on his back, gasping and rolled away from me when I went to stomp on him. He jumped from his back to his knees and then got to his feet, watching me closely as he gasped for breath. Then he lurched forward, and as I protected my face I realized he was going to run into my stomach with his shoulder. He faked me out!

He hits me and I go down, gasping for breath. He grasps my neck and squeezes, I know in that moment that he could kill me, and it excites me. I feel my body move up, undulating to keep contact with him. He presses down harder. I slap the floor, knowing this is the human way of giving up. He releases me and sits up, his hips still snugly fit to mine as he gasped for breath, still struggling. I keep struggling for breath and his eyes flick to my heaving breasts once before he gets down close to my face and says quietly, "How have you survived so far?" He's close enough so I lean up and plant one on him, my arms going around his neck and my tongue slipping between his lips. He presses me down into the soil, his hand buried in my hair and his bottom half melting into mine. I wrap a leg around his hip and arch up into his body. He moans half-heartedly, his body responding quickly. He was already excited, now he was painfully ready for sex. I loved that, that he was so ready for me. It made me pull back and grin at him. He leans down and bites down on my neck, his tongue smoothing over the skin hotly and I find myself getting so excited my hips undulate into him continually. He grinds down with a growl and his hand in my hair yanks my head back so he can run his teeth over my throat. I loved it so I growled back, his teeth bit down and I purred underneath him.