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This page conserves the character fiction forum of the Agora forums. The posts have been left unformatted to make it easier for users to copy them here and paste them into the new forums.

Oren Itanooren12/10/08 18:25View
Missy12/10/08 22:22View
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Love and Betrayal - A New Beginningkessjuliesse01/03/09 13:46View
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Missy's Story Part 6: Innocence AbductedMissy01/07/09 06:23View
Cursed BladeYannis_Martynov01/08/09 21:27View
Story Thread: Community Round Robin Ficerinnic01/09/09 23:25View
The demon withinCanly Fargis01/11/09 16:14View
Ziau- CoLA's Very Own CasanovaZiau01/13/09 02:09View
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Compilation! Where were you when it all happened?Ziau01/28/09 09:12View
The Clock Struck MidnightMalice Ashdene01/28/09 22:31View
With Precision- a poem by Kelly Welch A.k.A Ziau Jua.Ziau01/29/09 04:36View
Alisa's dicovery of a new world (character sheet + story)Alisa Draconia01/30/09 19:17View
The Shadow Stepper- Ziau the Enshadowed.Ziau02/01/09 07:26View
Krista Lemon arrives to the streets of Lost AngelsKrista02/03/09 00:09View
Back Story Upto the Excile of Rune.RuneCrimson02/03/09 21:59View
War with the Brood, war with the Coven, and the Pack.Ziau02/07/09 04:11View
-- Halcyon's Backstory --Halcyon Nacht02/08/09 00:22View
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Eyes in the DarkKeyla02/11/09 09:47View
Surfacing Part ILlyr02/13/09 22:21View
Surfacing Part IILlyr02/13/09 22:35View
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Dreamtime RevelationsWinter02/19/09 18:08View
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ConfessionKit Ristow02/26/09 01:39View
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Gabby Perdidevacantghost07/19/10 04:42View
PosterMessageDate
Keyla((This had been posted in the old forums already, but seeing as Ziau is so hell bent on livening up this fiction corner, I'll comply ;) Go, Zia. You're doing a great job.

CAREFUL: this is a very, [u]very[/u] long piece.))

((Update: added a second part as a new post. The second one is shorter :P ))


So you want to know who this cat is. Keyla, the little Succubus. Well, I can tell you, certainly. But, as usual with her, it's very chaotic. Keep in mind that she started out as a mortal, a neko. Here is what her memories provide.



Grey, twisted wood around;
Roots, knotted and old, thick as a man's thigh;
Black earth, cold and rich;
Glowing green eyes, looking out of the dark.

This was Keyla's first memory. She had been the animal hiding in the darkness of the old oak. Dirty and small, shivering in the darkness of the old tree, alone and forsaken. How she'd come there, she didn't know. Neither who she was. She was the thing in the dark, she was a predator, catching other things, scurrying, scared things running by, to stay alive.

Sometimes she had left her hiding place. Instincts urging her to move, to run and watch, to learn from those around her. Those around her were of all sorts of races, strange looking creatures that moved strange and behaved irrational. She couldn't understand why they strolled down those hard grey rivers without water, or went inside the square trees without life. Those were all around her, a huge forest of stony trees, with cool transparent parts. They had strange food, warm and tasteless. She had stolen it at times. They lived unnatural, and her instincts couldn't fathom their beings.

At some time she must have learned their language, she mused. She understood what they screamed at her as she ran by, scared and hunted. Always hunted, always cold. Her small, lithe form fit through gaps theirs didn't, and so she escaped. Filthy little girl, homeless rat, dirty neko. She was no neko, but they did not know this. She was a cat, a deadly huntress, not something snuggly and cute she had seen with the prey people. Once back in her hiding place, she licked her wounds, wounds from guns and blades they tried to catch her with. They were not fast enough, she was quicker than them all. A small grin of pride flitted across her tiny, dirty face. They should wait. Once she was grown, they'd be her prey. They would see what it was like to be hunted down.

She did not remember when she had come here. She just remembered that she was blind, blind and cold. Something had been warm, had protected her back then. But one day it hadn't come back. But her instincts had told her what to do. Somehow, against all odds, she had pulled through. When the heat beat down, she went out at nights. When it was cold and deadly to sleep, she dug into the earth, curling up in it's black embrace. In the time of the prey people, she must be five, she thought. It had no meaning to her, other than she would still grow, would be bigger and stronger soon. And they would be the scurrying things in the dark.

As the muggers came by, she did the same she always did. She ran, she hid, she licked her wounds. This time they hunted, though. They hunted her. Like a pack of hungry dogs, the prey people came for her. Them and domesticateds, the neko, their pets. They caught her, after a while, and took her away from her dark place with the rich, black earth they called Central Park. They put her into open space, scrubbed the dirt off her, and sold her like cattle. There were lots who would pay a great deal for a little neko girl. Some who paid even more for the chance to break her, to make a pet out of the predator. And she found a new dark place, one deep in her mind, out of which she could watch, and snatch things scurrying by.



Slave girl. Pleasure toy. She had heard it all, and all of it had no meaning but pain and humiliation. It fed the flames of anger and hatred inside of her. She couldn't flee, no matter what she did. They had put manacles and a collar on her, all shooting painful electric bursts through her should she dare to disobey. The pain wouldn't be this bad, but it made her muscles bunch up, not reacting to any of her thoughts anymore. They made her helpless, and she hated it to the depths of her being. Humans, prey people, they thought themselves to be better than the other races. To them, the cats were only for their pleasure. Neko. Keyla despised the word, looking around the room to see others who were supposedly of her own race chained up. Some where whimpering, others had given in an served these humans without question. Keyla's green eyes glowed in the half dark in an inner anger. She alone was heavily chained and secured to a wooden beam. A fighter, yes. But they had no idea how far she would take her fight.

She kept sharpening her claws on the wood behind her hands, biding her time. They would find out soon enough what she was capable of. For now, they were careful to bind her wrists and deal too much pain for her to bite, or give her some strange substance to make her thoughtless. But she knew males by now. They'd get cocky. They would want to prove her they were stronger than her, could keep her surpressed. Playing along to gain their trust didn't even come to her mind once. The incredibly strong piece of pride that had always sustained her wouldn't let her bow to her future prey. They might have the upper hand at the moment, but they were still only prey. Food. Sooner or later they would realize. They always made a mistake, she just had to be patient.

Years went by and she still was enslaved and used. Sold on time and again when her previous owner got too scared, it became a blur of human faces to her. She learned, though. Despite her refusal to bow down, she could make them give in to her whims by using her body. Their lust was her weapon. They could not resist, not for long. They'd always come back to her. She grinned, her lithe body well trained, nearly grown to full adulthood already. She was bigger now. They were her prey, males that sought to be her master. They became complacent with her seemingly accepting to be a sex toy. None understood that it was them who were her toys, something to play with before she stroke. Her hand went to the hated collar, her skin rubbed raw beneath it. Soon they'd take it off, for she had outgrown it. It cut into her flesh, and they hated to do lasting damage. Her time was nearly there.

She was taken away, to a room with a male with strange instruments. Her 'master' ordered her to sit, armed guards posted around the room to keep her in check. She had not been 'problematic' for this human yet, so he wasn't as well prepared as he should have been. No weapons to kill, just to take her down. Keyla smirked, offering her throat to the man with the instruments so he would free her. The first touch of air on her throat felt heavenly, made her light headed. She could barely contain herself when he worked at the manacles on her wrists, explaining to the other man how much better his new creations were. Nobody looked at her, weak with pleasure of finally feeling freedom again.

The last manacle snapped open and fell, and in one fluid motion Key's claws had hit the inventor's chest, drawing him towards her on his own flesh, her sharp teeth closing around his throat. Hot blood, infused with terror, shot down her throat and body. She ripped out his throat and threw the corpse against the first of the guards who came at her, stun gun in his hand. Her eyes glowed, bloodlust coursing through her. She moved, ripping and slashing around her, the three guards having no chance against her when she tasted freedom the first time for longer than she could remember. Keyla knew this was her only chance, and she would use it well.

As the fighting stopped, the human who had thought himself her master cowered in a corner from the blood smeared monster she had become. She herself bled from several wounds herself, but none deep and none breaking her will to fight her way out of this prison. Slowly she stalked towards him, her movements as sensual as ever. He tried to run, the predator inside her roaring with satisfaction as she took him down and ripped out his heart. It took a bit of ripping and slashing to get at it, though, and she guessed silently she would have to get a knife for things like this. A small one, easily concealed. With a grin she took his purse and cloak and concealed herself in it. She would get out. There was not a sliver of doubt inside her mind as she opened the door and went out.



Lost Angel's... Keyla supposed it would do as she stolled through the streets. The population seemed okay, even though some were stranger than she was herself. She did a berch around the manhole in the street where it was said the demons lived. The only race she truly respected. She was not yet strong enough to take it up with one of them. Her mind wandered as she watched one of the many fights around here. For quite a while she didn't realize someone was watching her, which made her jump as the woman talked to her. She was feline, and beautiful. And deadly, Keyla realized as the other came closer. For some reason she made the hair on the back of her neck stand. She was polite, though, and knew just the spots to touch for Keyla to relax and give in to the petting she received. For some reason, Keyla mused that this cat was not a neko either, not in the sense the others were. She despised the domesticateds.

And all of a sudden the woman had gone and slapped a collar around her throat, went from sweet to threatening. For the first time in a long while she felt real fear. Her usual self-assurance was gone in the unholy light of Arch Demoness' Odoriko's eyes. She gave in, and for the first time in her life gave herself up to a mistress for real. She didn't like it, but she did so willingly. And back to sweet and cuddly the Arch Demoness went, as if she never had been different.

She became a pet to Dori and Chari, and despite her misgivings about her lost-again freedom she found she enjoyed her time with the demons. They became a family she never had before, and she could live out her various bloodthirsty urges without problems. The collar soon became a part of herself she forgot about, the tag on the dark leather marking her as Brood property. She grew, and she evolved now that her bars had turned to demonic ones. She enjoyed the attentions of the demons, and pride and lust were her sins of choice. For once she could sit back and relax, and she enjoyed this feeling quite throughoutly.

Then the city fell.

It was scary, to see old warp into new and be cut off from what had become home to her. Hell was lost to the demons for a time, and they made a new home in a coffee shop in the new city. Keyla had wandered around, confused and lost, until she had found them again. The archangels didn't make themselves very well liked with that stunt. Not to her, and not to most of the city. Many lost their homes and had to look for a new one. The whole thing seemed to have ripped the universe a bit. Someone once explained it to her, but for Keyla anything of that kind was strange and unknown. Gates and gaps appeared again every now and then, changing the people, confusing her even more. She didn't know what to think of it.

And after they had got through that part, a new threat came up. A group of super-humans, supposedly. And things became interesting again. And dangerous.



It was dark, dank, and it didn't smell too well. It fit her mood, Keyla decided, her green eyes narrowed to slits. This whole story didn't sit well with her. She'd been the independant one up to now, needing nobody and having no friends. Thinking about it, she'd never have friends, per se. Lots of people to fuck, though. A wry smirk came to her lips, a dry chuckle reverbrating from the dark walls of the underground.

Recently, there'd been lots more people who could have become friends if she'd let them. Her... owners... she drew her face into a grimace of distaste. Yes, her owners could be considered friends by now, if she trusted demons that far, which she didn't. They were good to her, though, so she wasn't unhappy in itself. She just didn't like being owned. It was preferable to being dead, though. And it made for a comfortable life, if you didn't mind the part of being used. Well, Keyla was used to it by now, so she didn't mind.

What was it about this angel that made her pause? Well, no longer an angel, she guessed. With a roll of her eyes she thought the name, just to herself, and nearly winced at the intimacy she gave the situation with this. She didn't use names most of the times. Titles she gave out, yes, but names were special. He was an insufferable hero, food, interesting she supposed. And he had stuck a chord inside of her that never had been touched. She couldn't deal with it right now. She was afraid of it, even. It made her do strange things, do stupid stuff and even made her think things she usually hated. Wasn't survival the main goal? Somehow, she had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't all anymore.

Her eyes flashed for a moment and her lazy wanderings in the darkness ended abruptly as she froze, no muscle moving. She hadn't paid any attention to her surroundings, to the footsteps in the distance, or the murmuring voices that drew closer. Somewhere was a light source, which had caused her eyes to shy away, used to the dark tunnels by now. Heavy boots and the sounds of armor and weapons being carried sounded around her. Keyla shivered, recognizing these sounds from a time long past. One she didn't particularily care to relive. She took an involuntary step back, wincing as an empty can that stood in clearly the wrong place fell over with a loud clatter. For a second everything was silent, as if the world held it's breath. Key knew this wouldn't last long, so she did the only thing that came to her mind. She ran.

In retrospect, she mused as she rounded a corner at top speed, nearly crashing into the opposite wall, that had been the wrong thing to do. The predator inside her growled at her, showing she'd have given chase as well if she'd been the one behind her. True to her instincts, she heard fast steps behind her. Too quick for a human, clearly catching up with her. The light around her became brighter, and she nearly could feel hot breath on her neck. Her skin tingled. She hated to be chased. Rounding another corner, she spun around with a low growl. She was the predator now, nobody would ever hunt her down again. She was doing the hunting. Silently drawing her small dagger and gun with barely a whisper of metal against leather she fell into the comfortable aggressive stance. She didn't have to wait long.

A human, or something that could have been a human before the other parts were tossed into the mix, rounded the corner. He ran straight into her dagger, which embedded itself in his throat to the hilt. A silent gurgle was all she heard before he sank to the floor, though the sound seemed unnatural and loud in the deep tunnels. Not far behind there were more steps. She didn't have time to dispose of the body properly, so she kicked it into the gully next to her, hoping the others would be too hurried to see it, and jumped up, hiding between the cool steel pipes in the ceiling.

Two more rounded the corner, also with those strange, nearly human features, carrying a whole arsenal of weapons. Keyla could smell agression, and see the bloodlust in their eyes. The light they carried brought the blood on the floor in stark contrast with the concrete, making them pause. Keyla, hanging directly in reach, tensed, watching, waiting if they would spot her. They found their comrade, exchanging angry words, talking to their intercom before drawing weapons and moving on. As soon as they were out of view, Keyla jumped down soundlessly, going into the opposite direction.

Casting a glance behind her to see the light vanishing, she nearly ran into a broad chest. Only her reflexes saved her from the easiest capture this guy probably had ever made. Growling, she jumped aside, her blade in front of her, the weight of the gun in her other hand reassuring. He seemed to be a higher up guy, markings on his clothes telling of a rank she had no idea of. He seemed amused as he saw her. "Little neko girl. Seems Rutger was a weakling. No matter, we will put you to good use." He grabbed for her, nearly loosing his hand in the process. Both narrowed their eyes at each other. "It will be a pleasure to capture you, freak." This got only a smirk from her.

Rather suddenly he drew a blade, lunging for her. She was weaker than him, his bulk and size giving him strength and reach she didn't have. But he also was quick, which she hadn't counted on. He cut her thigh as she twisted out of reach, a snarl coming from her lips. Playtime was over, they both were out for blood. He was armored though, and not human in his reflexes for some reason. Wondering idly if they were the guys who had done all the damage in the little underground home, she tried to remember what the angel had told her about them. Blocking a kick to her stomach, she sliced her claws through unprotected lower face of the attacker, feeling deep pleasure at his yelp of pain. Jumping back, she got her gun back which she had dropped for this, holstering it. It wouldn't do any good down here.

Through the red haze in front of her eyes she could see light flickering behind him, missing a stab at her which got her square in the side. Gasping, she put a hand over the bleeding wound, slashing at the hand reaching for her. The blood oozing from him wasn't the usual red she was used to, and the smell was deseased to her sensitive nose. She took a step back, colliding with another body, feeling cold steel stab her lower back. Twisting around, she went for the throat, her sharp teeth ripping out a good portion of the attacker's flesh. His blood burned on her tongue, made her let go and retch helplessly. With the knife still in her body, she ran, wiping at her mouth with a whimper as the bigger man tried to catch his dying comrade. A shot fired, grazed her arm, threw her forwards. Key managed to land more or less gracefully on her feet, rounding a corner, thanking whatever deity listened for her curious wanderings through these corridors.

Trying not to leave telltale blood stains on the floor or walls, she made it to one of the hidden rooms she had found, curling up, hoping against hope that they wouldn't find her. With a last gasp, drawing the blade from her back, she fainted from bloodloss and exhaustion, blackness swallowing her thoughts, and the absurd hope that someone would come save her after all.



Something touched her shoulder in the dark. She jumped up, feeling her body reacting sluggishly, no strength in the press of her claws against a throat. The one in front of her stayed motionless and she smelled no fear. A calm, soothing voice reached her through the dark. It reminded her of warmth, of something known and something strange. She tried to get her mind back from where it had hidden. She had an impression of blades, pain and a hideous taste. The warmth made her feel weightless, took her and carried her off. "Them taste horrible." It was all she could think of right now. The male talked, and she guessed she answered. It was too nice to be warm for once to worry about something like this. This was all a dream. It was never warm, not in this edge of her being, so she guessed she was dying.

He healed her, brought her back from the brink of death. Somehow, he had saved her. She didn't know how, or why. He had become something else, someone she hadn't recognized, just to save her. Magic perhaps, she didn't understand magic. Now he was back to who she knew, and as he soothed her she felt warm for a bit. A slow, nearly scared smile flitted across her face. True, it scared her that he could make her feel like this. He scared her. He had changed, from prey to something more, something unknown. And she started to give in.

And deep within her, the little girl in the dark, cold place howled in fear of the unknown.


When she awoke, the staff of the hospital was gone. She had been patched up and lay in a comfortable bed, clean bandages around her body. Keyla stretched, testing her body, feeling stitches pull tight in her stomach, arms and legs. She winced at the stinging pain, taking her time with sitting up. This had been stupid, going to hunt them herself. She shook her head, her naked body sliding from the hospital bed. Already, blood had begun seeping through the bandages again. She smirked, keeping her movements as graceful and painless as possible. The staff here would have her head if they knew she was already moving. She could still eat them, she supposed with a low chuckle, if they tried to stop her. It was time to get out and moving. Her luck at not being followed might not hold after all.

She dressed with care, her bloody clothes still damp. She couldn't have been out long, she supposed. Her steps, though slow, led her back to the small park. She eased down on a cushioned swing, closing her eyes and leaning back, enjoying the warm breeze blowing in her face. This was much more enjoyable than the snow covered LA, she mused with a smile. Unnatural, perhaps, but cozy. Her thoughts traveled back down the manhole behind her, through the dark tunnels which had cost her so much blood already. She seethed at those preposturous humans, trying to be predators when they were just food gone wrong. They would pay for every drop of blood she had lost. Keyla had some respect for them. They were worthy enemies, she supposed. But not good enough to be predators themselves, though they'd like to be.

He came up to her when she had her eyes closed, asking her if she was all right. Favouring her right side, she chuckled. 'Course she was, how did she look? He himself didn't look any better, she mused. Like death warmed over, and hit a few times with a baseball bat for good measure. There was a feral bloodlust in his eyes, though. A small smile came to her lips. She liked this side of him, the side which had let him live through her various tries to kill him. Made him look kinda cute. If she was up for a hunt, he asked. Of course she was. Together they descended into the darkness, to rip and slash and see tainted blood spilled.



Why had she come here again? Oh yes, she thought amused, to keep him from being a hero again. Funny, how things could change. She could feel her blood flow from her body, forming a slippery surface on the damp stonefloor. She lay still, the pain in her stomach and chest excruciating. How she longed to give up, to just let go and die. But the humie still stood there, arrogant and dangerous, the strange, futuristic gun he had shot her with still in his hands. And then there was her hero. She grinned despite the pain. Still defiant, the dark bloodlust darkened in his eyes in the face of a deadly enemy from his past. This had been fun, as long as it lasted. A grin curled her lips upwards, an arm sliding around her middle to keep in whatever was left of her innards. This would be awkward.

The big guy blasted James from his feet, threw him a few yards backwards with it. Keyla growled at his back, her eyes glowing with dark fury. Ignoring her, was he? She wasn't done yet, not quite. She tucked her legs underneath her, her toes curling into the uneven surface. If she slipped now, it was all for nothing. She leaped, feeling her strength give out while she was still in the air. Roaring with feral anger, she brought her scimitar beneath her, relying on the dead weight of her body to drive the sharp blade home. The humie tried to turn, to meet her attack, but this time he was too slow. Her sword sliced through his neck, in a steep line down his body, the tip scraping along the inner breastplate without penetrating it. She could smell his panic through both of their blood, and smirked in triumph.

The hilt of her sword hit her chest and she fell to the side, all strength gone. There were dark spots in front of her eyes that refused to go away. Behind her, the body of the Purifier elite keeled over, and she grinned with dark pleasure even as the cold, damp stone floor did it's best to rob her of the last warmth in her body. He had gasped, with absolute astonishment "I can't die, we are immortal!" just before he died. "Fucker", Keyla murmured, managing to move her head to the face of her companion. Shock, relieve and pure dread at seeing her. Smirking in self-mockery she guessed that females even in death loathed to look anything less than perfect. He ran to her, lifting her head to his lap, the movement jarring her body. She groaned softly, her mind providing her with the helpful thought that it was a sickening feeling to have your innards try and slip out of your body. At least the pain would stop.

She died there, his lips pressed against hers, slipping away with ease. She could feel her soul part from the flesh, slide clear from the body that had been it's mortal form. There was a warm light somewhere, she could sense it more than see it. She guessed that was her only choice now. Reaching for it, though there was doubt in her movement, she went towards it. And then, she reached the end of her leash. Yanked back, her hands reached for her throat, where, true to her suspicion, the comfortable weight of her collar lay. She had worn it for this long, but only on her body, she had thought. Growling, resentment filling her spirit, she thrashed and raged at the end of the leash binding her to the mangled corpse that had been her body. She didn't realize she was moved, was too engrossed in the useless fight against a bond that had been more than she had thought. She probably should have suspected.

Livid, she gave up, watching him lay her down at a rosebush. He started digging and panic flooded her system. He couldn't simply entomb her under the earth. She couldn't touch him, and he seemed like a man possessed as he digged the soft earth with his fingers. She growled annoyed, again straining against the collar, as he suddenly stopped. She didn't catch what he said, everything was kind of hazy, in a deep fog all around her. All she understood was her owner's name. Torn between relieve and anger, she let herself be dragged along as he went for Lost Angel's.

Once in her home, all she could do was watch him deliver her body, all of them discussing what to do with the shell of torn flesh that had been her. The red mirror, glowing in the realm she was in now, beckoned her. Tempting, sweet promises that were neither spoken nor thought, a feeling of pleasure, pain, greed and anger, thrown together in one huge temptation. Her spirit touched it while her body lay cooling on the carpet. Dark energies, raw and powerful, threatened to rip her consciousness apart. She reveled in them, her spirit eyes glowing with darkness. She longed to merge with it, belong to it completely. Her spirit started to unrevel, the bond around her throat loosening as she was pulled more and more towards the crimson mirror, stepping forwards to loose herself in it forever...
And then, suddenly, a jolt of magic yanked on her leash and pulled her back into her body. Gasping with the unpleasant feeling of a cooling corpse around her, she stared out of her own dead eyes, feeling Shadow's hands leave her body, hearing her say only Charissa could do anything now. At least they hadn't closed her eyes, she thought as her body moved again, this time to the morgue. At least she could see through the glassy orbs that had been her eyes. Otherwise all would be...
Darkness again. They had put her in some kind of preservation chamber, back into a cold, dark place. It felt a bit like home, she guessed.

"Come here!" Keyla didn't even think about it. One second caught in a spidery web of magic inside her cold body, she felt the world move and found herself at Charissa's feet the next moment, the ghostly leash in the Arch Demoness' hands. Giving a soft, glad mewl, she snuggled into the warm embrace of the demoness, shuddering at the thought of her cage. Did she want to go? Keyla knew it wasn't an option. If she was to be set free with her death, they wouldn't have gone to the trouble of binding her with the collar. And she didn't want to. This world was all she knew, dark as it was. Whatever the light was, it scared her, more so than the darkness she knew. For a fleeting moment, she remembered her first memories, a warm being caring for her when she was helpless. Then, she remembered more warmth, his warmth, and the sweet temptation of the mirror. No, she didn not want to go. She fled from the thought back into Charissa's embrace, giving the answer she had to. The Arch Demoness didn't seem surprised.

All she had said was "this would be easier with the portal". By now, Keyla's spirit sat huddled in the middle of a magical circle, or so she guessed. Having no experience with this, all she could do was wait for what was to come. She could feel the pull of the mirror next to her, but didn't move. Her being yearned for the promises of the crimson mirror, but Charissa's will would not let her move. She was held by the Arch Demoness alone, the runes around her glowing, bathing the room in an eerie hue. She fixed her eyes to those of the Arch Demoness, and the chanting started.
Keyla smiled, her bonds finally broken. The collar around her throat shattered, her form hovering in what would count as midair if there was a floor. There was fire, blood and darkness all around her. She couldn't see anything, but she felt it all. This was hell, this was her destiny now.
"Do you give yourself up to our care?"
She felt stared at, evaluated. Enormous power was around her, and she felt small and worthless. Nonetheless, she raised her head and answered with a clear "yes". The voices seemed amused at her pride.
"Do you hand your soul to the dark forces?"
She chuckled, tilting her head. "I can't, you already have it." They laughed. Then it started. While the ritual went on in the world of humans, her rebirth took place with the forces of hell. Had she a voice, she would have screamed. Had she a body, it would have died. She was twisted and burned, ripped apart and set together. Dark powers slashed their claws inside her, filled her with darkness, tainted and defiled what was left of her soul. She was devoured, and reborn for Lillith, who claimed her as her child. What she had been before was ended. At this point, Keyla stopped to exist. In her stead, a demoness was born. A dark rebirth, and her body was forming around the dark, twisted soul that once had been mortal.
In retrospect, the show probably was a great one. Keyla couldn't enjoy it, though. For this, her pain was too great. Matter slashed around her, hellfire shot up and burned her soul. She was ripped apart and pressed together all at once. At one point blood flowed, though she didn't realize where it came from. Slabs of flesh, dark and not of this world, built another cage for her. Darkness held her in it's grip, and she gave herself up to it freely. It seemed an eternity, but she was reborn. In the end, she lay naked on the cool floor, gasping for breath at Charissa's feet, reveling in the power coursing through her body. Muscles rippled beneath her smooth skin as she learned anew how to move. The Arch Demoness gave her time, looked down on her bare body with an unreadable smile. She pushed herself to her legs, falling over as she realized there was no longer a tail to balance her. She fell into Charissa's arms, who stroked her back until she found her bearings again. Keyla purred, though the sound was raw, this throat unused to it.

"Welcome to our world." Keyla chuckled, stretching lazily, testing out this new body. "Thank you... mother." Her green eyes glowed with an inner, dark power as she pressed her lips to Charissa's, giving a low rumbling growl of pleasure at the response.



"So this was me..." Keyla looked down at the body that had once been her shell. Well, she guessed it had been a good one. She had liked it, after all. She smiled, stroking her fingers along the cheekbones. "Pity. Things jus' went wrong for us, didn't they?" She laughed softly, stroking along the ears, the nose, across the lips. There was a big hole in the body's stomach and chest region, and on a whim she reached in, feeling around the cold flesh. With a smirk her fingers closed around smooth metal, pulling the object out. She ignored the blood on her hands, turning the metal thing over between her fingers. No bullet, there hadn't been a bullet from this strange weapon. But this was even better. She thought back to the moment she had killed this Elite, her sword slicing through his neck, a low, metallic snap. She had ignored it completely, but then, she'd been nearly dead.

It were dog tags. The handle of her scimitar seemed to have pushed them into the wound as she landed on it. Funny, how things seemed to work out. Grinning, she tilted her head at the corpse. "Ya dun need 'em, do ya, hun? Nah, 'course not." She laughed softly, stroking the metal with her fingers, smearing the blood on it. Curious now, she dug back into the body, taking organs and muscles out, slowly but surely dissecting her old body. There were bullets, old ones and new, as well as a broken piece of blade that was dangerously close to her heart. Laughing by now, she got her dagger and carefully pried the eyes out of the corpse, looking around for a jar to keep them in. She found one, sealing it afterwards, getting another and sealing the heart as well, leaving the mess of flesh that remained of her old body in the locker, for whoever had to deal with it. With a chuckle, she licked the blood off her arms, walking back towards home.

With a grin, she hid her new findings with her old collections, stretching lazily, narrowing her eyes. Chuckling she pondered his reaction, if she'd go and give him her heart, literally. She'd love to see his face. Yes, she was still Keyla. But she wasn't the same as before. She was still a being of instinct, but now her instincts had changed. This wasn't about the hunt anymore. This wasn't about food. Now, all she yearned for was pleasure, the rush of sin, and the sweet pleasure of a soul damned to hell. She had been dead. Her cat self died for good that day. Now, she was a demon, and it felt damn good. She chuckled, nuzzling Dori as she found her on the couch, curling up against her.

A few days later she reflected. With a smirk she thought, yes, it had been quite comical, his face, after she had put her heart in his fist. She'd been angry, true. Right now, she was mainly confused. They went from cozy to arguing and back, it all laced with an underlying sense of danger and lust. Well, she couldn't really be angry about it. It was entertaining for sure, even though the beast within her fought against it's chains, snarling at her what she was doing. If she was honest with herself, she didn't know. She just followed her instincts, and saw where they led her to.

Her fingers closed around the dog tags, that by now dangled beneath her shirt. She longed to avenge her death, even though the one that killed her was dead already. His creators, though, were still around, and she was none too happy with them. Only because she wasn't to go officially against them, nothing prevented her of finding out a few things on her own.



He knew her too well. She smiled, tilting her head amused, her eyes fixed on the ring on her finger. An amusing choice, she guessed. Wrapped in an unusual choice of package. Her tongue licked her lips as she remembered the heart she had eaten to get to this present. Tasty, a soul trapped inside. She smiled, a thoughtful present, even if a bit unconventional. But then, they were both not exactly your usual couple.

Were they? She pondered that, still watching the ring on her finger. A couple. Perhaps they were, she didn't know. All this was new to her. The feelings, the violent outbursts that came with them. It also had shown her that she had friends now. Inoue, the other cat had helped her through this. Playful, dangerous, just like her and so unlike her at the same time. The other demoness seemed amused by this story. Keyla guessed she would be, too, if she were on the outside. This was irrational, stupid even at times. But somehow she couldn't stop. And by now she didn't even want to.

What was this? They called it love. She was still confused about this. It hurt, it burned, and it made her do stupid things. At the same time she was warm, truly warm on the inside. She turned around, her lithe body twisting on the rich pillows around her. Her skin gleamed in the fireglow of her home, her green eyes burning. Love. Could demons love? She guessed so. Perhaps she had just eaten something strange, she pondered, and it would go away again. Her lips twitched amused. Knowing fate, that would be too easy.

Keyla was restless. The Purifiers, though they only seemed to concern the rest of the city, were too close for comfort for her. She growled, a hand going to her throat and her collar. She hadn't forgotten what they had done to her. Dark rage burned inside her, waiting to burst out of her with violence and anger. Perhaps she could have some fun. Naked, she moved through her home. No need for masks here. She was what her nature told her, stealthy, sensual and deadly.

She found her mothers easy enough. Sliding between them she smiled, purring. "I's wantin' to reseach somethin' 'bout tha' humie lovin' group. Can I's?" Hands stroked her soft skin, her tongue tasted salty skin. They moved lazily, enjoying the silence of their home. She got her go, but she was on her own. And should she fail, her punishment would be severe. It took quite some time until she left the comfort of their arms.

There they were. Keyla crouched above the Purifier encampment, her eyes narrowed. They hadn't been too hard to find, with a few directions of those that had seen them before. She had evaded their guards nearly too easily, suspicion high in her mind. She was no fool, and they were no normal humans. A dark, deadly smile came to her lips as she melted into the shadows, her skin changing, all that remained visible her ever glowing dark green eyes. They might think her in a trap. She would show them how Belial's children worked.

Twisting through tiny spaces, vanishing in a ventilation system they thought intruder proof, Keyla slipped behind their lines. It was too tight a fit to move arms or legs, but her tentacles could hold her weight and more. Slipping through the metal tubes like a snake, she listened to their amplified voices around her.

"Where has the scrap gone? How could you loose the subject, she was just a feline." The man sounded livid. The air in this facility was rich with pain, terror and malice. Her family would like it here, she guessed with a grin. Keyla didn't breath, she didn't have to. She had taken care to have the exact temperature of the area around her, icy to the touch, her blood only flowing sluggishly through her veins. She lived off the energies of hell, not alive in the sense of the word, and more attuned to cold than heat anyways. With her new present, this had been more than easy. The soldier's voice was terrified, shocked even. "I don't know, Commander. She just vanished from the sensors. No tracks either. It seems she was never there." The Elite below her seemed to ponder that information. Keyla didn't move a muscle. "Very well. Send more troups out to scout the area. Perhaps the subject has fled." Both went their seperate ways, and Keyla continued her new carreer as cat burglar.

Time held no meaning for her. She had eternity. Inch by inch she sneaked forwards, no sound giving away her position. They couldn't take her, she was the predator this time. Hunting, deadly. She listened, but what they discussed didn't make sense to her. Plans for attacks on the city, told in strange numbers and letters that swam together in her head and left her confused. Sectors, codenames, nothing that kept her interest, or she managed to commit to memory. Worthless mortal talk, hurried and senseless. She kept the urge to growl at them in irritation, continuing her prowl. A possibility would present itself, and she would be there.

Keyla didn't know how long she had been there. She had watched long and learned little she didn't know yet. They were vicious, brutal and efficient. Enhanced humans, not much which reminded her of those humans she knew. And they were terrified. Behind the facade of superiority, they were terrified of those they called scraps, terrified of loosing their fight for the top of creation. And this terror was it that drew Keyla out of her hiding place, made her feed the paranoia and fear around her. One after the other, the foot soldiers vanished. Nobody knew where they went to, or what happened to them. And for a very long time it wasn't even apparent what happened. They were inside the facility, not on duty. Recreational time.

Slipping through a door, closing it carefully behind her, Keyla licked the blood off her hands, looking around. Another cell block. There had been several. All empty up to now, though, although used. She didn't know where they had taken their prisoners. This one was no different. No used cells, but a keycard on a table. Interesting. She snatched her new prize up, turning it around in her fingers. Fun. She tried it on one of the cells and it worked quite well, as it did on the door. This would make this so much easier.

Elite. There suddenly were eager steps hurrying all around her, soldiers wanting to prove they were working effectively. Fear and pride hung in the air, a sneaking madness slowly gliding through the corridors. Keyla hid even more effectively, knowing they were very observant. She watched them in their gleaming armors and with inhuman movements strut through the corridor. Elite. Specialists. Deadly killers. Hatred, pure and black, boiled inside her. She could take them all. She could wipe the whole base off the face of this earth if she wanted to. They had no idea what they had created. In retrospect, it was pure madness. Keyla guessed she had to put it down on her growing attachment to Belial as well as the immense powerboost from the ring she had received. There was no reason left, no survival instinct, just the pure certainty that she could not be taken down.

She dropped down in the middle of the four Elite, in the heart of their base, with a dozen foot soldiers staring at her openmouthed. Her small form danced, tentacles whipped around her, her warfans ripped and tore through flesh and armor. An icy hue hung in the air around her, the temperature in the area dropping. Her green eyes became an icy blue, glowing eerily, her only thought of destroying those that destroyed her. The Elite, though, recovered fast. They matched her at speed, well coordinated. They were hindered by the small space and their allies though. Soldiers tried to hunt her and shots hit armor all around. The air was buzzing with electromagnetic charges from the strange weapons, distorting the readings of their sensors. Smoke and debris from shots gone wrong filled the area.

In all of this, Keyla danced, a smile on her lips. She could feel her power pulsating, could hear her Lord's voice in everything they did. They were nothing, she was the predator. But still it was soldiers that fell. No Elite was hit by her blades, their dodges too quick for her to follow. With an angry snarl she wrapped her tentacles around another male that had tried to sneak up on her. He was ripped in half, her demonic strength fueled by her rage. "You're mine!" Her eyes blazed red with power as she pounced recklessly on one of the females. They didn't see that coming. A shot hit her mid-air in the hip, but she ignored the pain. Nothing could deter her from her kill. Nothing could save this woman. She wrapped her tentacles all around the woman's head, locked with her in a writhing mass of demonic rage.

Keyla flew. She had enough time to wonder what had happened while pain exploded in her side and her body broke through a wall, debris raining on her. With a satisfied smirk she felt that the head of the woman was still enclosed within her tentacles, though the body was missing. Her eyes glowed as she drew the last energies from her victim, devouring her soul. She hadn't realized yet that she was, effectively, pinned beneath a wall. Drunk on power and certain of her superior status, she didn't worry as the slab of rock above her was lifted. But she knew the guy who stood in front of her. The leader, Anubis. She had seen him flee from one of his fights. He didn't seem to recognize her yet. She smiled.

Hell, her body hurt. Trying to get up she felt like run over by several trucks. Multiple time. Making a mental note not to get hit by a wall again, she met the furious look of her enemy with a calm one of herself. "Ah, I's knowin' wha' ya's wantin', ya?" She held up the woman's head. He growled. "Thankies fer helpin' me get 't off her, but I's dun need 't anymore." She tossed it towards him, his reaction instantly. Hoping her damn spell she had spent three hours of her time on worked, she let herself fall backwards, hastily casting in the demon tongue, feeling magic rush around her. Portal spell, which would hopefully get her home. She had used it a few times before, but never in a hurry. She hit the ground, a fist flying at her. Growling, she finished her spell, knowing it was futile now. The ironclad fist only managed to smash against her shoulder as she was ripped backwards, but it smashed some bones. Her concentration failed, the spell wavering. He barely got his arm out of the portal before it closed, magic exploding around her, sending her spiralling through chaos. The last thing she thought before all went black was that she really should have spent more time on studying.

Her body hurt. Badly. This guy had a punch like a tank. She had no idea where she was, only that consciousness very slowly returned to her. Feeling around her, she could make out a damp coolness which she knew well. She groaned, earth shifting into her mouth at the movement. Sometimes she was glad that she did not have to breath. She was buried alive, in the cool black earth, somewhere. The ground around her was hardened by her body materializing in it's midst, pressing the earth outwards. She whimpered. This wasn't a bad dream, this was real. She was trapped. Helpless. Dead though conscious. She was...

A dark glow stole through her mind. What the heck was she thinking? She was the predator, she was Keyla. They did not get her. She had escaped like she knew she would. She had defeated them all. This could not stop her. She was unstoppable. Her Lord had granted her life again, she had done his will and survived. The whimpering mortal part of her soul trapped within her would not make her weak. She could not be trapped, could not be defeated. She had all the time she needed.

It took ages to dig herself out of this dark, damp prison. With a smirk she remembered the screams of panic when her dirtstained hand broke through the earth outside. They were probably reminded of bad horror movies from the time before Wormwood. She was dirty, sweat covered and bloody, barely able to stand with her broken body. But she laughed. She laughed until her ribs hurt as well.

"I's got'cha back, fuckers."



Keyla lay back and listened. The city burned, chaos raged around her. It was a bit like home, she mused, lazily stretching. Purifiers, she'd get them soon. But for now she had to wait, to guard.

Heavy steps came up the stairwell of Desatanica. Not here for coffee, she guessed with a smile. Her stance didn't change. Innocent white, silks barely covering her soft, well developed body. White hair covered her face, her green eyes hidden behind it. Her feet were bare, her posture submissive. Chains hung from her form, seemingly rooting her in spot, her soft pink lips holding an innocent, unbothered smile. The one across from her saw her as soon as he entered the upper level, barely able to tear his eyes from her. She was completely out of place in this carnage, her beauty nearly glowing in this night of carnage and death. He stepped closer, his eyes falling to her chained body. She appeared human, knew all the data would prove it, should he check. She was good at this.

He commed someone. "Human prisoner, female. In the demon nest. Chained and left to die. A slave apparently." Keyla didn't move a muscle, completely still as he spoke. He listened to the answer, his tension slowly leaving as no other signs of life were to be seen, nobody moved to attack him. The city had proven harder to take than they had thought. His hand went to her chin, lifting her head to look up at him. She did so slowly, the vivid green eyes lifting to him beneath long lashes. Despite his strength, despite his enhancements, he was still only a male. She could feel pure need slamming through him, lust trying to devour him. She could feel his need to dominate, to sully perfection. A smile curled her lips, her powers softly enhancing her effect on him. Pity this one was the enemy, his sins weighted hard. He would be a good addition for the Lords.

He opened the protection of his armor, lifting her head to him, his fingers curling around her jaw, pressing in hard. "If you're real nice to me, slavegirl, I'll save you." She widened her eyes for effect. Lust had made him forget all duty, pride had made him forget all security. Her lips opened, but instead of an answer, the words spilling from them were dark, evil. A small shape parted from the shadows above him, hovering with it's leathery wings for just a second before the body that seemed to only consist of a maw and a stomach swallowed it's head, the razorsharp claws that acted as teeth for it severing it without a problem. Those who knew Overfiend Sloan would know who the creator of this Minion was. She smiled, getting up, the chains around her falling to her side, not fastened anywhere. She stroke her graceful hand across the flying demon, receiving small tittered sounds in return. "Well done, sweetness. Le's see if them's stupid 'nough ta try 'gain." It gave a sound that could be taken for a purr with lots of imagination and went back to it's hiding place. Keyla kneeled down to the body, ripping it's just departing soul out for her own pleasure before delivering the corpse to a growing pile in a corner, hidden by rubble that had caved in.

The red mirror next to her glowed, it's power gaining. Lust, Pride, Greed and Wrath feeding it every time she took down another. She'd have to get a new hiding place for the corpses soon. Her smile deepened as she heard more sounds from downstairs. Resuming her old position, the blood in front of her vanishing, she waited. That sounded like more than one. She smiled, eager to get some action of her own, fueled by the mayhem around her.

She must not move. She was here to guard. But hell, at least she got to take the bastards down one by one. Fuckers wouldn't know what hit them.

She guessed it would become interesting once there were more than she could fool. But then, she didn't care for the foot soldiers.

She wanted the Elite.



Keyla looked up as the steps finished their way up to the second level. It wasn't enemies, it was the Overfiends. She got up, tilting her head in curiosity. "Wha's up?" They took up position in several corners of the upper floor. "They're sending in new troops. We're taking over here. Go out and see what mayhem you and your pet can cause." She grinned, stretching. "Thankies." The flying Minion came down from it's hiding place and she took up his leash, her fingers stroking it's surprisingly soft skin. She made sure her weapons were strapped to the right places on her lithe body and went downstairs, humming to herself.

They felt it at the same time, and both stopped intrigued. Lust, hatred, bloodlust and pain. Nothing new, but this one was focussed. The two Purifiers just passing the coffee shop with their load, a dead looking female Key recognized as the assassin Wraith, who seemed to also be called Fel, didn't even notice her. She cooed softly at her pet, his form pressing to her side. Her voice was soft as she whispered, careful not to be heard by them. "Fancy some slaughter?" He did, and her green eyes glowed with the power she had stolen from the dead bodies upstairs. Finally, with herself set free in the city, she'd get some fun with those bastards. And then she'd go find the Elites.

She followed them, the firelight on her white clothes masking her moderately. They were too busy dragging the female body towards the church to notice her, too sure they got most of the defenders. They were distracted by a skirmish down the road and Keyla and her pet managed to slip into the church before them. Crouching on one of the rafters, she waited until they finished their way down the aisle. Her pet, who had waited outside to see if they really would enter, joined her through one of the broken windows. She stroked it with a smile, watching and listening.

They laid out the broken body on the altar, boasting about what they'd do to her. Torture, maiming, rape, all of it and a bit more. Keyla scritched the form next to her under it's belly, smirking. They weren't particularily interesting. Crude, no knowledge of the art of pain at all. "Those avians will be quite happy about our present, I think." One of them chuckled, getting out a knife and prying the form's mouth open. He pushed the hilt in, about to break the long cainines out. Keyla was bored. With a soundless move she dropped down right between them, the spikes of her warfans embedded in their only unprotected area, the gap between helmet and neck. "Ya know..." Her tone was conversational, their wide eyes looking directly at her pet. It's maw opened. "I's likin' ta take stuff from th' angels, ya?" She grinned as they slumped forward, loosing their souls to the minion before them.

She pulled their helmets off with the long tentacles writhing on her back, her fans holding them up like puppets. With a slash of the sharp spikes, she ripped half the head off the first one, letting him fall on top of the feline vampire. The dead man's blood filled her mouth, ran down the side of her face while Keyla watched amused. Then, Fel started to swallow. More and more blood flew, and when the first was bled dry, she did the same with the cooling body of the second Purifier. Greed. Keyla liked Vampires.

Once she had fed, Key threw the broken body across her shoulder, already seeing the healing kick in. She had watched this cat for a bit. She knew she was an excellent killer. And it would be interesting to see her work again. "Ya's knowin'..." Her tentacles were wrapped tightly around the female, holding her trapped but secure for now while she looked through the men's stuff. "... I's thinkin' 'tween th' two of us, them's gonna be a bit less cocky soon." She chuckled, nodding towards the exit. The other demon made an affirmative sound, scouting out and motioning for her to follow. She did, and took the female to the liquor store. Burned out, the walls still stood. Making sure she wasn't followed, she slipped inside and towards her hiding place.

The hidden storage space was small, and it took a bit to maneuver the dead weight of the feline Vampire inside. Keyla got her bag she had hidden there, which was scorched but otherwise still functional, and changed her clothing to darker ones. Her skin, her hair, everything changed until she was nearly invisible in the shadows, except for her glowing green eyes. She looked down, winking. "Ya's can run, or ya's can come 'n join in when ya's healed. If ya's feelin' like it, ya's can die here too." She chuckled, getting some soot from the walls and started rubbing it across the flying Minion. "As fer me, I's goin' huntin'. I's gonna find me some Elites, ya?" Not knowing if the female had heard her, and not really caring either, she closed the space off again, hiding Fel behind the false wall. If the assassin came out again, it'd be interesting to watch for sure. Keyla smirked, placing a kiss on her pet's head.

"Le's go, sweetness. We's got some souls ta reap b'fore goin' home." She seemed to melt into the shadows, slipping away soundlessly. Only her glowing green eyes were visible as she watched, and waited, as she always had done. And then she moved, swallowed by the chaos of the night, to spread some more before this was over.



And when it was over, they had their gate to hell back. The demons went from the city for a while, setting up their new home, getting comfortable in their space. This wasn't a small base, it was their area, all new to explore and get used to. Keyla loved it, explored it for what seemed forever and found her own hiding places in the maze and on the grounds. And she learned. She snatched books from the coffee shop, taking in what they had about magic, most of it still new to her. But she had some of it in her now, which had made her body and warped her soul. She would find a way to learn more.

One of the books provided an idea. She could contact those of the lower planes, and one in particular took a liking to her and her being. He was powerful, and political. His tempting voice offered her a bargain she could not refuse. Destroy one of his enemies and he would teach her what he knew. She thought about it for a week, but she realized it wasn't a choice at all for her. She knew what she had to do. She told nobody, knowing it was her way but also that it could bring problems with the others of her kind. She learned about ways to get down to the lower planes, and, with help of the one sending her on his errands, managed to prepare a spell.

The feeling was eerie and Keyla nearly jumped out of the summoning circle as dark clawed hands reached for her and tried to draw her down below. She had to force herself to keep still, her tail flicking agitated, reminding herself that she had wanted this, had spent quite some time preparing the circle and finding the spell. The shadow hands drew her right through the basaltic stone floor down, for what seemed an eternity. They were pretty touchy too, which amused her.

When she found herself on solid ground again her environment had changed dramatically. The lower levels of hell resembled a dark wasteland, hot and dry, with monstrous creatures shuffling around in the dark. Her white hair stood out like a beacon, as did her light skin. She grinned, crouching and watching for a moment. It was a risky endavour, and she wasn't sure if she would survive the first steps at all. Down here, you had to watch out or be devoured, literally. For some reason Keyla was quite fond of her black little soul and wouldn't want to loose it. She wasn't her mothers' child for nothing, though, and resourceful was something she prided herself on. Pride. Was quite her thing anyways. A quiet chuckle came from her as she made her way through the darkness, looking at ease for anyone watching, attentive to the point of paranoid deep within. She was still young, but she would be damned if she'd make it easy for anyone to take advantage.

Within a few days she had found what she sought. He was powerful, self-centered and a born warrior. He had a weak spot for small, innocent neko girls, though. Many had. She grinned, her body stretching on the rich velvet cushions. It would be soon, but for now she could enjoy the attentions of a powerful demon. Her body made a small impression on the huge bed, but she drew the eyes with her soft skin and white hair. And she drew his eyes as well. She smirked as he came into his bedchamber, forgetting about his duties as he lay down with her and drew her close. She made him forget for a while who he was, and what he was supposed to do, and like this gave payment to the one who sent her here. Soon she would gain what she had come for. If there was pleasure on the way, who was she to argue?

He fell from grace, her sweet dumb lover who was one of Abaddon's children, revered until she had come. She smirked, massaging her lithe limbs with sweet scented oil. Poor one, fallen from grace through lust and pride. Keyla hummed amused to herself, the words coming to her as she did, something she had read not long ago.

Belial came last; than whom a Spirit more lewd
Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love,
Vice for itself. To him no temple stood
Or altar smoked; yet who more oft than he
In temples and at altars, when the priest
Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled
With lust and violence the house of God?
In courts and palaces he also reigns,
And in luxurious cities, where the noise
Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers,
And injury and outrage; and, when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night
In Gibeah, when the hospitable door
Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape.

She guessed lust was her domain as well as pride. Both had always been a part of her being. The darkness in her soul. She smirked, dressing herself without haste. Outside the bedchambers she could hear the enraged shouts of her lover and the sounds of steel on flesh when Abaddon's children turned against each other. The lords of hell might have a pact, but nobody said they did not have their internal conflicts. Keyla grinned as a shadowed portal opened not far from her. She packed the ornamental dagger her lover had given her, it's steel forged in the wails of lost souls, a present worthy of a son of Abaddon. The portal closed behind her just as the men outside finished their squabble and went to get her, for questioning or worse. They found an empty room, no trace of the mistress their dead brother was rumoured to hold.

The one who had made the pact with her was pleased with her success, and took a month to fulfill his part of the bargain. He taught her what he knew about his shadow magic, and when she was ready to leave to her home again, it was deeply ingrained in her being. Still unstable, she would have to train, of course. But it was a start. She wasn't about to stay the powerless demoness she still was. She might be young, but stupid wasn't one of her attributes. Her green eyes glittered with mischief, returning to her home and her family with a smile.
02/11/09 09:47
James SaitoAs I've said before, this piece is fucking great.

...and not just because a certain green-eyed young hero is fairly prominent in it. :P

This totally makes me want to write.
02/11/09 10:08
Keyla*laughs* thanks Jimmy. *hugs* That was a fun time for sure ;)

I'm currently working on the follow-up, but it could take a little. Shamps is making me write for Ziau's "where were you when it all happened" compilation as well, and my day has only so many hours. :P

So, more to come, whenever I get to it.
02/11/09 10:10
LoganEpic.


Edit: Not lame daily usage 'Epic.' This is 'Saving Private Ryan' epic.
02/11/09 12:42
Keylaaaw, thank you Logan *hugs* That means lots, really does.02/11/09 13:19
DuxVery nice piece of ............writing, seriously you took my lunch break from me :)


so very hungry now.........
02/11/09 22:49
Keylathank you Dux ^^ *hands him a sandwich*
sorry bout the lunchbreak though *chuckles*
02/11/09 23:32
Dux*takes the sandwich and opens it to see what it is, mmm rotten flesh, puss, blood and maggots on wheat... Looks up at Keyla* you forgot the mayo :(02/11/09 23:43
Keylaeew, you're being icky :P
*did in fact make a club sandwich, but really forgot the mayo so hands him some belatedly*
02/12/09 05:25
Keyla((here's the next part. Detailing some changes in character, some moodyness and my absence for the last few months. Oh, AND why she hates having her tail touched *laughs*
Disclaimer: if you've got a problem with torture, don't read. ;) ))

„I’s not like ya…“
Pondering, Keyla gnawed on one of Sloan’s wings, softly, while hanging from his back. He was in one of his indulgent moods, and she was taking full advantage of it.
“How do you mean, little one?”
He sounded distracted, probably scheming on a scale far greater than she could understand. Again. Frustration about his nearly casual genius made her want to bite him. She didn’t, of course, holding a deep, genuine affection for the big demon. Sighing in annoyance she slid down from his back, rubbing her cheek against his arm, trying to find words. The skin contact, as usual, calmed her.
“I dunno. You’s all th’ big Sloan demon, ya?”
He just stared at her from those deep, black holes that passed as his eyes. She struggled for words again, her ears folding back against her skull as she couldn’t voice her annoyance correctly.
“I’s… I’s still… jus’ a cat, ya?”
He chuckled and put a big hand on her head, stroking her.
“You are still very young, little one. You will learn, in time.”
Keyla nodded and slinked off, holding back the whine of “but I’s wanna learn now!” until she was well out of earshot.

Her biggest problem was that she wasn’t a cat any longer. Nor did she feel like a demon. She had no idea what exactly she was, and her clear sense of self had always been what had held her together, through all of those hardships. It had given her the pride she needed to survive. It had made her what she was. And right now, to herself, she was nothing at all. Nothing interesting, nothing important, and her old instincts warred with new ones. She felt herself slipping.

Sitting down in the middle of a parking lot, her mood down, she softly whined to herself.
“I’s jus’ want ta learn, ya? I’s wantin’ them to be proud ‘f me…”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when, suddenly, a man stepped out of the shadows next to her and answered.
“Perhaps I can help.”
His grin was nearly manic, but his voice was smooth like silk, calming and dark.
“How?” she asked suspiciously, tilting her head, not liking the fact that he had overheard her show of weakness.
He sat down next to her, a thin man, half a head taller than her. He was quite nice to look at as it was, but so were most people around these days. His eyes held something foreign, his posture proud. Frankly, he creeped her out big time.

“I am called Leonard. I serve the Lord of Pride and I can be a teacher to you, in our demonic ways, if you wish it to be so. In Hell, you can learn our ways a lot better than up here, you know?”
Keyla frowned. She had the distinct feeling that this demon was different than those she knew, but then, the ones she knew were behaving a lot different when they conducted business than when they were relaxing, too. Perhaps it was just that this one wasn’t ruled by her mothers.
“An’… wha’s ya thinkin’ ya’d teach me?”
She didn’t notice the slightly disdainful curl of his lips when she spoke. He did relax, though, and explained. He would teach her their history, how to behave around others of their kind and the whole business about contracts for souls. Realizing her attention was slipping he changed tracks, telling her about the ways of magic he could show her… and that he would introduce her to others of her kind.

He held her full attention then.

A whole group of cat demons, he explained. He needed information from them, and she could bring it to him, while learning more about their ways and being. They were old, and powerful, and she would not need to harm them. Of course he would teach her anyways, in his own way, his own style.

Being completely distracted by the thought of a whole group of feline demons she didn’t pay the attention she should have. She trusted demons, for the most part, them being family now. Of course he tricked her, and whisked her away before she could say her goodbyes to her family.
That just might have hurt the most.


His way of teaching, she soon found out, involved a lot of her being tied to a whipping block while he showed her the nuances of his skill with whips, flails and scorches. He tried to make her ‘talk right’, saying her manner of speech was degrading and hurt his ears. He tried to break her to his will, but her pride was still too strong. And then he put her into isolation for days on end, starving her from the energies she needed to survive, and from body contact. She broke then, begging him to let her have some nourishment, enduring his touch for it was touch she needed.

And then he sent her out, to get in contact with the group of Succubi called Hellcats, led by a demoness revered in ancient Egypt as a goddess of her own right. Pakhet, the dark one. They were a fierce group, strong and independent. Their ways were strange for Keyla, for they embraced both their demon and feline sides, while none seemed to fight each other for dominance with them. She tried to understand, got an inkling how it worked, but every time she relaxed enough she was called back. To give information about the group she felt more at home with than with the demon she was supposed to serve. She felt cheated, but had to honor their contract. But he never had specified which kind of information he needed, so she gave him what she knew wouldn’t help him.
This went on for several weeks.
Until he had enough.


Why did they always have to go for the tail?

Ever since that incident where she still had been mortal, where that fucker had spiked her tail with shards of glass and raped her with it, Keyla had been twitchy whenever someone touched that particular part of her body. But they always went for the tail. She really, really hated that.

She was bound to a pole, the skin of her back sliced away by Leonard’s whips, when he went for her tail as well. Methodically he broke each and every one of the small bones in it, only stopping long enough after the previous one to bask in her screams of agony and wait till she wouldn’t black out with pain on the next one. And once finished, he relished in dragging his sharp claws through the already pain-wracked flesh, leaving her once sleek tail hanging limply in bloody tatters of fur, flesh and bones.

Keyla sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, hanging in the chains like a ragdoll, all strength gone from her limbs. She whimpered and begged from a throat screamed raw and bloody, desperately wishing for blessed unconsciousness.
“You will bring me the information I need. Soon. Do you understand, halfbreed?”
His voice, like always, was calm and laced with a sadistic smirk she could hear in it. She took too long to gain the trust of his enemies, he had said. And instead of siding firmly with him, she took too much interest in their ways and habits. But all she could do now was nod frantically, agreeing to anything, everything he wanted to make the pain stop.

Narrowing his eyes when he realized he had pushed her further from his cause he went for her collar, trying to rip it off. When that didn’t work and he nearly broke her neck, the skin raw beneath it, he tried his own brand of magic, wanting to warp it, change it so he would be the one she would have to call Master from now on. Her ages old fears from days long gone, when she was still a small, weak being, resurfaced. And once again she couldn’t do anything to stop him. But the pride in his own skills made him careless, and the magic binding her, Queen Odoriko’s magic, lashed out to protect what was her’s. Without a ward against the backlash he was thrown off his feet, knocked unconscious for a long time.

Keyla needed that time. The sobbing wreck she had become managed to bring up enough focus to use the magic he taught her and break free of his bonds.
Their contract broken by his double crossing she ran towards the only place down here she would find protection from his anger, the only group she could bargain with. The ones he had tried to use her against. The Hellcats.

Situated between Lord Belial’s and Lady Lillith’s realms, it was a long track for one as weakened as she was. Her trail of blood lured predators, and all of them stronger than her. She stumbled, crawled and screamed, and they played a malicious game of cat and mouse with her. But she was the mouse.
Gradually, on her agonized flight through Hell’s ragged landscape, she not only lost blood, skin and flesh but her pride as well, the only thing left to her, the only thing keeping her together. She broke, her sense of who and what she was splintering, her mind breaking. And she lay down to die. She just wanted to stop this existence altogether, the complete antithesis of what she always had been.

If Pakhet hadn’t found her, she would have been lost. Drawn by the same despair and agony that called the beasts, the leader of the Hellcats saved her, one more time a stronger demon had taken care of her, where she had failed. Pakhet brought her to the others, and they did their best to repair what had been done to her, the bonds of friendship they had formed when she spied for Leonard were by now strong enough so they would help her. In return, all she could give was information about the one trying to become her Master.

She learned from them, hid with them, and tried to heal as well. Her demonic form righted itself after some time, but the scars on her mind and being would not clear that easily. She helped them in their fight, but realized she was rather useless. That thought kept eating on her, and it stayed with her when she finally managed to return to her family, putting on a bright façade, trying to hide her shame as she always had done.
02/12/09 15:10
Keyla((some randomness stemming from the last few days of RP. plus writing is my favourite form of procastination :P ))

It had not healed right.

Keyla sighed, wandering the streets of what she considered home by now, the city of Lost Angels, her mind in turmoil. Her tail hurt. Her whole lower back hurt as if barbed wire was drawn upwards through her spine at every step, every movement. The bones that had been crushed had mended awkwardly, the nerves were struggling to renew themselves. Her demonic flesh showed no outward sign of her recent experiences, but the form she considered her original, and which others considered her mortal disguise, did not quite realize that it wasn’t mortal anymore. Or perhaps it was her mind?

She kept flying into bursts of anger or fear, shaming herself even more when she did, and all because the people around her just would not lay off her tail. She didn’t tug their arms either, did she? And the other day that long haired pounce of an angel had ruined everything. Empath, he had said. What business did he have with her pain? He should keep his nosy neck out of her mind, and out of her pain, and not writhe in agony in the middle of the Zodiac Lounge where everyone could see him.

Her family was suspicious by now, she knew. They looked at her as if she was mad. And she might be, admitted, but she would not tell them. She’d keep hiding, and putting up a brave front, and scream out her pain when nobody was around. Like she always did. It was better that way.

And then there was Belial.
“Fucker b’trayed me…”
Her low grumble filled her mind, her being, her pride shattered and its loss had splintered her sanity. She was nothing without her pride, just lust and instinct. And so she turned towards the dark Lady of Lust, hoping Lilith would take in one broken as her, and going further down the path the Hellcats had shown her. Pakhet would be proud. Keyla gave a wry grin at that thought, though she had to admit the Lady seemed well pleased with the sacrifice Tari and her had given the other night. Angel’s soul, filled with righteous anger at demons.
Oh, yes, her family had dragged her out of problems in this one too. She might as well just keep down, it would be easier.
But then, that had never been her way. She was a Hellcat now. Young, certainly. Without much experience or power, true. But she still could bluff and slide her way out of tight spaces. And she could hide behind those stronger than her. That was her way now, and while not honorable, it would keep her alive for the time being.
“I’s b’come a fuckin’ coward.”
Her eyes flashed in the dark corner she had decided on for her resting place. A dark hole in the ground, beneath an old tree, gnarled and half dead like she felt herself. Deep within the arms of the black earth. It seemed appropriate. She felt once again like she had back when she was still small, waiting, planning. She was no year old as a demon, and this form was still too vulnerable.

She would have to see Michel, sometimes, soon she hoped. The pain was taking her reasoning, dulling her senses and making her a threat for anyone touching her wrong. She had lashed out at family, friends and enemies alike in the last few days, and it wasn’t healing, it was just becoming worse. She had no clue how to explain the injuries without admitting to her shame. But she would find a way, she always did.

And while she waited, she could still go on finding scissors.
That angel would get it so back for exposing her.
“Le’s jus’ see if th’ damn ponce ‘ll still grin like tha’ wit’out him shiny hair…”
She had a plan. It wasn’t very good, perhaps even ridiculous, but it distracted her. And for the time being, distraction was all she needed to keep her from screaming like a dying animal.
02/16/09 12:40
Michel MoraneAs she leaves, a shadow seems to move in a dark corner. Apparently, there is nothing in that corner, just darkness. But then, a face appears in the darkness, red, flaming eyes, under a dark hood that is pulled slightly back. The hood, and the cloak below, was blending with the shadows in such a way that no shape could be identified. Michel was watching, silently.

He nods, his face more serious than usual. So, what was to be expected, is happening. She would not be the first new-born demon that has trouble mastering the new powers, and most of all, the overflow of new emotions. Of course, Lust is the first one she let explode in her, and she is damn good at it, she mastered that one, but that sin is the easiest to master for a cat. Her Pride nearly got her killed again, because she let it combine with Wrath: instead of controlling it, she let them blind her, as he himself uses them to blind his victims.

He had taken time to learn about her. Hell, she vanished for a few months, then just reappears, he had to check. Most probably, she went away to find others like her, hellcats, that could help her master the overload of new emotions. He shakes his head, that would not explain why she gave no sign at all. She must have been trapped somehow, and if he finds out who did that, when time allows, he will take care of him, in his own way. The one who hurt Keyla will never hear about Michel, he will just find out that he has a lot more ennemies than he thought, and that his ennemies seem to know all about him, and particularly his weaknesses.

But first, Keyla. Her body and her mind seem a mess. The body, that would be easy for him, if she lets him. The mind, she will have to find her own answers. Oh, he can help, of course, as many others in the Brood can, but for that, she will have to let go her Pride, and ask for help. He sighs, and puts his hood back on. The red face and flaming eyes disappear in the shadows again, just as a couple of humans wander near. When their light points at the dark corner, there is nobody.
02/16/09 19:23
Keyla((Here's a little intermezzo. It belongs, timeline wise, just in front of the first part, explaining Keyla's heritage - of which she really has no clue. Just felt like writing it. :P ))

A wiry man in a white lab coat slammed a newspaper on the polished ebony oft he meeting room table. The old man who sat there, dressed in a fine designer suit, surrounded by stacks of papers, looked up and arched an eyebrow.
“How did they find out?” the younger one shouted, enraged.
He pointed at the headline, eyes narrowing. The paper read “Breaking News – Leopard escaped into Central Park”. Straightening the man in the suit picked it up, his dark voice sounding through the otherwise silent room, reading the article aloud.
“This morning a captured wild leopard escaped from the CryoLab research facilities. The animal is suspected to have run into central park. We strongly caution to avoid walking through the park until it is captured, especially around dusk and dawn.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Oh look, they even included a telephone number to call when there are sightings. How nice.”
Sarcasm practically dripped from his lips when he, too, slammed the paper down on the desk. He made his way slowly over to the big windows overlooking the bustling city and said Central Park. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The news hadn’t made the round yet, but they would soon.
“Did they manage to contain the Were yet?”
Lab Coat nodded, taking a remote from a sideboard and switching on one of the screens in the far corner. The surveillance camera picture flared to life, showing a monstrous form, half man half wolf, easily eight feet tall. It was covered in dull, black fur, it’s eyes glowing a deep red. It was throwing itself against the bars of the cage he was caught in, solid titanium that wouldn’t give way. It had shackles around the wrists and ankles and a thick steel collar around its neck, connecting it to the wall. It would hold for a while.
“Casualities?”
Lab Coat sighed, pushing the black spectacles up on his nose. He gave a reluctant nod.
“Seven dead, three crippled, nineteen wounded. We still don’t know how he managed to escape his previous cell, or why in hell he helped the cat get out. All he did afterwards was make sure we were too caught up in recapturing him so the leopard could escape. He’s part human, he should understand the dangers of having a wild animal roam through the streets.”
Suit shook his head, making a dismissive gesture.
“Those animals might look human at times, but there’s next to no intelligence in there.”
He tapped his forehead.
“No better than dogs, really. You can train them, but they never will be human. But we need that one, he was expensive. Contain him, make sure he won’t move. Don’t kill him, the rest is up to you and your team.”
Lab Coat grinned, going for the door. There was a certain sadistic pleasure in his eyes. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, looking around once more.
“What about the cat?”
Suit gave a dismissive shrug in answer.
“Send out a team of hunters. Make sure the populace knows there’s something done. Kill it, and for god’s sake, make sure they bring back the carcass. If the government finds out about the experiments we can as well shoot ourselves. They have similar programs going, and they will gleefully steal any advances we have managed to make.”
Lab Coat nodded and went out. The old man meanwhile returned to the table and his papers, picking up the biggest file. It read “Project Berserk”, containing detailed information about his perfect soldier. He had tested a lot of supernatural races till now, but never managed to get this close. Combining a leopard, a werewolf and an old, occult ritual performed on the female, he had thought they would make good advance. The cat had shown promise of intelligence lately, and the gen manipulation had done its work as well. Selling his new super soldiers would have made him rich beyond his wildest dreams. Countries would fall over each other to get their hands on this creation.
Now he would have to change locations again. What the hell had gone wrong this time?

Weeks went by and there was no sighting of the leopard. People forgot about it, and the team of hunters began to seriously doubt their employer’s sanity. The beast had got away, but the company still insisted on them getting paid for hanging around Central Park all day. As if a cat as big as this one would go unnoticed for that long. They had ferreted out every hiding place in the park, inspected every tree and every hole in the ground, and hadn’t even found any prints of the beast. It was gone. But who were they to argue? The weather was nice, the pay was good, and they didn’t have to do anything, so they continued to hang around, more or less attentively.

Deep in the shrubbery, under an old oak tree, green eyes shone in the darkness of the falling night. A sleek body emerged, a huntress alien to these humanized parts of the world. She looked around cautiously until a soft mewl sounded from behind her, from the darkness of her den, making her stop. Turning to lick the black kitten’s head reassuringly she knew she had to chance leaving it again. The small leopard kit had not opened its eyes yet, but it would soon. She had to get food for them.
A fierce intelligence burned in the big cat’s eyes, a soul torn from an unsuspecting victim by ancient rituals, combined with the survival instincts of the animal she had become. She would go and hunt rats, cats and dogs again, in the darkness where it was safe. In this small haven even a big city like this provided. She had to ensure the life of her kitten. With a deep, feline sigh she nuzzled the small leopard cub and went out for the hunt, hurrying to not leave it in the cold too long. She had taken a great risk not running, but her child needed to be hidden. Whatever the cub would become once it grew, her father’s side showing through or not, it was still helpless at this time.

“CryoLab speaker Collin Richards announced the capture of the runaway lab cat today. It was put down to prevent harm to the community. He also commented that strict measures have been taken to prevent a disturbance of peace like this again. Their fine of two million dollars was paid in full, no more charges will be taken, though officials have announced a full investigation of the companies facilities.”

Hidden in the dark hole in the ground feline green eyes opened for the first time, taking in their surroundings while the small ball of fur curled up tighter, trying to get some warmth in its body. The warmth had been gone for long now, and it was getting hungry. Small eyes flashed red as a small mouse wandered by, a paw snatching out, killing it with the first stroke of her claws. A tiny purr came from the feline throat as it started on its meal, waiting for the warmth to return, emerald eyes the only thing visible in the early morning light filtering through the shrubbery.
02/19/09 12:02
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