Anime Deathmatch
Established: 2025-03-21
Chat room: #Anime_DM
- No holds barred
- Extreme violence
- Blood
- Broken bones
- Death
The perfect place for everyone that wants to have Anime style Characters fight each other but only one is allowed to leave the arena
99 members
10 stories
1 photos
0 files
Unholy Dance (Part 3/3)
Starring
Unholy Dance
Part 3 (final)
Seraphina: "No, please, NO! Don't do it! Please, stop!" When I manage to speak again the words tear from me not as coherent pleas but as primal shrieks, desperate offerings to a monster that has no interest in mercy. My vocal cords shred with the effort, each syllable climbing higher, more frantic, until I'm not even sure they're words anymore. My angelic sister. Now, pinned to the floor, she is just flesh and bone, so terribly fragile. Her wide eyes find mine across the impossible distance of the cathedral, and in them I see not just pain, but confusion. As if she can't understand how we arrived here, in this nightmare, with this demon now torturing her. The hot tears I've been crying turn cold on my cheeks as the rest of the world seems to dim. I can't save her. I can't even move. My shrill voice tries desperately to drown out her cries. But her sounds of agony cut through everything - through my screams, through the pounding of blood in my ears, through the last shreds of my sanity. The demoness doesn't even glance my way. My cries for mercy are just meaningless static to her, less relevant than the buzzing of a fly. And still, I scream.
Nyrassa: "Now that's what I call a real symphony~" The words slip from my lips like a satisfied sigh, a silken thread in the aftermath of the storm. My hands complete their slow, deliberate finale across the globes of my own buttocks. With a final, teasing pressure, I cup and pull upwards, letting the soft flesh jiggle and settle. This ripple of demonic flesh mirrors the earlier motion of my breasts, now fully bared and swaying free. Their tips peaked and stiff, not from cold, but from the sheer, exhilarating cruelty of the moment. A sadistic glee, pure and unfiltered, ignites in my eyes as I catch your gaze, a predator's delight in the helpless beauty of its prey. "Ahhhh~ You angels are so durable~" I croon, my voice a mix of mock and genuine excitement. My gaze drops to your back, where the magnificent, ruined architecture of your wings is stirring. From the raw, torn tissue of your wounds, a new set of wings is unfurling, stretching, reaching for the gaping wounds. The sight makes my pulse flutter with wicked delight. They are so stubborn. So beautifully, pathetically resilient. "But..." My smile deepens, a slow, dangerous curve. "I think it's time for you to sing your own requiem~" With a fluid, languid motion, I slide off your back, my skin leaving a cool trail where my heat had been. I settle onto the cool stone before you, positioning myself directly in front of your face.
Nyrassa: There lies your only remaining intact right hand - already stretched out so invitingly, presented to me as if in offering. It's so convenient, so utterly vulnerable. I let my fingers trail lightly, teasingly, up the length of your forearm before I finally, gently, envelop your hand in mine. Holding your hand captive, I shift my position with a deliberate grace. I let my knees fall apart, a slow, wide invitation. The damp heat of my arousal, held in the thin fabric of my panties, is now inches from your face. It's not merely a proximity - it's a deliberate presentation. You can feel the warmth radiating from me, and if you breathe deep enough, you can catch the heady, intoxicating scent of my arousal. With your hand still in mine, I place your captured arm right there. I press your palm firmly against the damp silk, letting you feel the warmth, the outline of me beneath. For a moment, I just hold it there, a silent communion. Then, with a slow, serpentine grace, I pull your hand and begin to close my legs.
Nyrassa: First, my right thigh presses against the side of your neck, the muscle firm and unyielding. Then my left follows, mirroring the pressure on the other side. My thighs wrap around you, not just your neck, but your clamped shoulder too, engulfing you in a warm, vice-like grip. My left leg bends sharply at the knee, my calf hooking and pressing firmly against the back of your neck. Simultaneously, my right leg snakes around, bending and then locking itself around my left ankle, creating an unbreakable triangle choke. Your right arm, the one I so gently took, is now a trapped, helpless thing, pinned between the iron cage of my thighs, the side of your own neck, and the soft curve of my breasts against your fingers. And then I begin to apply pressure. It's not a violent jerk, but a slow, inexorable squeeze, like the tide coming in. My thighs flex, my calves tighten, my entire body becoming a single, focused source of pressure. I watch you, feeling the pulse in your trapped wrist against my skin, as the world narrows for you to just this: the scent of me, the feel of me, the overwhelming, undeniable power of my body holding you completely at my mercy.
Nyrassa: My spine peels off the floor, vertebra by vertebra, until my hips are a pedestal in the air. My back is a steep, powerful arch, and I can feel how the damp heat of my core presses firmly against your neck. The leverage is immense. I feel your body's frantic resistance - the bunched muscles in your shoulder, the rigid line of your trapped arm, the frantic pulse of your carotid artery against my inner thigh. It's a live wire of tension thrumming against my skin. I lean my weight, shifting the fulcrum upward and subtly to the left. It's a surgical adjustment, a search for the flaw in your structure. The tension in your neck becomes a cord of steel under my thighs, and your arm... your arm is a lever I'm forcing past its tolerance. I feel every individual sinew in your bicep and forearm strain, a taut harp string about to snap. The resistance is magnificent, a silent, violent argument written in muscle and bone. And then, the tension tells a story. It changes. It peaks. From deep within the vise of my thighs I feel it - a sudden, sharp give. It's followed by a sound that is startlingly wet and intimate: a muted, thick pop, a subtle shift of architecture beneath the skin.
Nyrassa: A delighted, breathless giggle escapes me. "Ow," I coo, my voice a honeyed drip of mock sympathy against the raw tension of the moment. "It seems your arm gave up first~" The fight in that limb simply vanishes. The rigid tension in your elbow dissolves into a horrifying, unnatural slackness. I feel your forearm and hand, now loose and useless, resting in the warm valley between my breasts. It doesn't deter me in the slightest. In fact, the release of tension on one side only makes my goal on the other feel more imminent. The rhythm of my applied pressure is unbroken, narrowing to the primary target still trapped between my thighs. I feel the new, sharper tension in your neck now, a desperate, panicked rigidity as the remaining structural supports realize they are alone.
Nyrassa: 
Battle_Angel_Minerva: The link between two angelic dove's remains, as strong as it was when it drew your fresh, squealing prey to you. If Minerva can still call herself an angel, with those prized wings twitching in wet, spurting death spasms just meters away. She can feel your gleeful little bounce before you peel off her, leaving a cooling vapour that feels like death itselfs cold chill starting to take her, inch by sweat and blood streaked inch of porcelain flesh. All to duet of such angish, such despair, such total defeat that it makes the angels in heaven shudder and weep. Somehow, we both cling so stubbornly, so torturiously to life, it would feel such a perversely cruel joke, if the broken angel at your feet could still comprehend rather than simply feel. Soon perhaps we'll both be in heavens soothing light, in each others warm pressing embrace, our bound reforged ever stronger in the hellfire we've shared?
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Perhaps, the shattered beauty is just searching for whatever small comfort might be found in the eyes of the more pure, more resolute and noble angel. Yet there's little there, just the cold stone under her body and the light tap of your feet, signifying movement, slow and calculated around the husk of broken bone, torn sinew and wounded, quivering flesh. All still crowned in that striking pink that makes her such rare prey.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: You could simply watch and savour this, her crooked spine, the distorted bumps rippling under her skin from her crushed ribcage. Every breath is still, like a thousand white hot knifes rendering inward, drawing plumes of claret in mist and froth from her lips. Blood masks over her chin on each cough as those screams soften again into a wheeze, a gurgle, a cough. Perhaps death itself is happy to savour and prolong this moment, to wait while scarlet wings sharper into crimson claws etched around her body, while her halo flickers and fails second by second, heavy chilled heartbeat by racing heartbeat. The celestial system that fueled her magic has clearly failed too. Pink sparkles fizz up slowly from the base of those torn wings and scatter into abyss on a cool draft. But at least it will be over soon, surely this mortal prison of pain will break completely and she'll be in Sera's arms, moving in time as holy flame lick their way up of legs, engulf our bodies til all our agonies, fears and hopes melt away along with...
Battle_Angel_Minerva: A flicker of comprehension passes under those wells of salty tears. When it happened, she cannot tell, but Minerva's not staring at Sera any longer but your crimson gaze. Your razor sharp, cheshire smile. She cannot even find hate, for surely it's mere nature for a cat to hunt a dove. And you continue to play with your prey, gentle and deliberate as you take her gloved hand and guide it, along with her gaze, to the nexus between your thighs, where moist heat radiates through sinfully seductive lace. Mina's eyes close and push more tears across her rosy cheeks in sheets of sadness. That sinful dew will linger on her silks long after this vessel is just dust and you're dancing another instinctive, insidious tango with another.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: You feel a curl, perhaps just a twitch roll down her fingers and brush across the forbidden folds under your lingerie. It's enough to break the moment and now, you're drawing her in. There's no resistance left in Minerva's failing frame. You have to drag her dead weight across the ground as you snake that arm upward, sliding her hand into the valley of your breasts. It falls across one where the feel, the heat and the supple resistance fill her grasp. All while you shift drawing sensous skin around her neck, trapping pink silk hair under your calfs and lock the doomed angel in a death crush more close, more intimate than anything she can ever recall.. Or even imagine.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: A vapour lace whimper ripples the crotch of your panties, mixing with dew and kissing, whisper soft across your petals. The song's softer still. Just for you now, as you take lead on a dance she's learned already. A flex here, a shift there.. Just straining into fresh aches. Each grunt and twitch tells you a little more of her limitations, of quickening pulses and trembling muscle. You see saw, from that taut, brittle arm to the throbbing artery rumpa bump bumping into your inner thigh. "grrrkk... ppllfff.... aaaauugggllleeee"
Battle_Angel_Minerva: There's a little pop and an electric current sears down her arm, those silken fingers sink involuntarily into that plush flesh. There's something pleasant in the forbidden feel. Something heady in the scents washes over her face and competing with the coopery taste of blood in her mouth. A creak tilts her head one way before another pulse of pressure bites sharp across her bicep with a wet rip. Another jolt and another needing squeeze.. and then another and another even as you pivot and lift your hips til only those eyes are visable over the shape of your own chest. Something shifts under the dying strobe of her halo. The azure hue of iris fades, no shifts as the precusion builds and her tongue drapes out. Mina's gaze turns skyward in search of something? Mercy from this slow, deliberate deconstruction? or... forgiveness?
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Passing light catches just right for you to see the change in all it's shame that you can see her story. The blue's of her eyes are no longer blue but that same bright pornstar pink as her hair and halo. A hue of corruption that took seed a thousand locked away lifetimes ago, when she was as pure and strong as Sera.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: A *SNAP* when you lift that inch higher, peeling Minerva's cherry crown breasts off the ground and finally that arm gives out and tilts, open palmed and shaking across the valley of your breast. "Eeerppp.... ssrrrrriiieeeeee". You feel more than hear, anguish laced cries dancing deep into your core. Her Halo has dimmed now... HEr world as shrunk into a small cosy place. Cold all around.. from the tips of her toes to her upper back, where the hot hellfire of the eyes she drowning in still burns so bright even she cannot understand how there's anything left. "plllssff.... klllll.. mmssppphheee"
Seraphina: "P-please..." My voice dissolves into something I don't recognize - fragments of sound torn from a throat raw with screaming. I try to shout, but it comes out as a broken, cracking plea. "Leave her... I beg you..." The words collapse into a series of heaving, broken sobs. Hope is a foreign concept now, a memory from a lifetime ago. Every plea I've made has been met with cold silence or a fresh, sickening sound from her direction. The demoness isn't listening. She was never going to listen. But my body continues its desperate rhythm, words spilling out like water from a cracked vessel, because stopping means accepting, and accepting means she's truly gone.
Seraphina: "P-p-please..." The word is a wet, hiccupping thing now. "You can do whatever you want to me..." The offer hangs in the stale air, and I hate how sincere it sounds. "I'll do anything... anything you want... Just make it stop... please, just stop this..." I continue, the words becoming a meaningless, repetitive litany. Watching this - or rather, hearing this torture unfold in front of me, being forced to exist in this darkness and listen to her suffering - has unmade me. There is no pride left, no defiance, no hope. There is only the hollow, echoing space where my will used to be, and the single, useless, instinctive plea that my broken mind keeps repeating: make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
Nyrassa: I completely ignored all pleas from both of you - every desperate, broken word that fell from your lips went unheard, dismissed without a second thought. Pathetic. Entertaining for a time, but ultimately meaningless. But now, I have decided to reply to Seraphina. "Foolish angel," I purr, my voice a low rumble that seems to absorb all other sound in the room. I gesture vaguely towards you, my powerful thighs press harder against your neck, a final, dismissive act of cruelty. "The only thing I want from you is to watch your sister s-" I stop abruptly, mid-sentence, and in the same fluid motion, I lower my hips from their crushing position on your neck. My pelvis settles against the floor, releasing the pressure of my thighs from your neck, removing the lever that had you pinned on the very brink of death and leaving you choking on the air I so graciously permit you to have once more.
Nyrassa: A flash of insight strikes me. Two angels. Two pristine, broken birds, their light flickering and fading in the oppressive gloom of my domain. Both are here, locked in this cage with me. My gaze drifts from your crumpled form to the other one - Seraphina, still suspended on that cross, wrists bound by glowing seals. She watches us with wide, horrified eyes. She's been watching the whole time. Watching me play with you. Such an opportunity rarely comes along. And I almost missed it. Got too carried away. Too focused on you, letting my sadistic play consume me entirely!
Nyrassa: I rise to my full height, my hips leaving your neck with deliberate slowness - just to remind you what was there. I stand over you for a moment, basking in the sight of your torn wings, your broken arms, the tears streaking your cheeks. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. But not as beautiful as what I'm about to do~ All the playful cruelty I have been directing at you, I now channel, refine, and aim squarely at Seraphina. My voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, laced with a sickening sweetness. "Anything you say~?" The question hangs in the air, a poisoned chalice offered with a smile. I don't wait for an answer. With a casual, almost bored flick of my right hand, I snap my fingers. The intricate magic seals that bind Seraphina to the cross, that hold her limbs spread-eagled in a mockery of her own sacred symbol, flicker once and then dissolve into shadows. Her bindings vanish mid-air, and for one breathless moment, she hangs there, suspended by... nothing. Then she falls. Her body drops from the cross like a stone, limbs limp, until the horrible, helpless thud of her body signals her landing. She doesn't move. Doesn't cry out. Just lies there, a heap of tangled limbs and white feathers, breathing - barely.
Nyrassa: "In that case..." I nudge you with my foot, pushing just hard enough to roll you from your stomach onto your back. The movement is casual, almost lazy, but my tail sways with barely contained excitement behind me. I stride over to Seraphina, my heels clicking softly against the stone floor. "It's time to put that angelic mouth of yours to better use than just screaming~" My hand tangles in her snow-white hair, the strands silken against my palm as I grip tightly and begin dragging her limp form back toward you. She makes a soft, pained sound as her body scrapes across the floor, but doesn't have the strength to resist. My tail flicks and curls with playful menace, the tip catching the thin fabric of her bra, slicing through it effortlessly. The garment falls away, revealing the gentle swell of her angelic breasts, perfect, and rising and falling with shallow, pained breaths. My tail gives an appreciative little wag as I continue dragging her, leaving a trail of scattered feathers in our wake.
Nyrassa: I halt before you, looking down at the two of you - you watching from the floor, her dangling from my grasp like a broken doll. "Show me an angelic kiss," I purr, the words dripping with honeyed cruelty. "Show me how much you love each other~" I tilt my head, feigning thoughtfulness. "And if I like what I see... I'll ease her suffering~" With that, I release her hair, letting her collapse onto you in a tangle of wings and limbs. Your forms press against each other, breasts meeting breasts in a soft, yielding collision. I kneel beside you both, my left hand finds the back of Seraphina's head, fingers threading through her disheveled white hair. "Come now," I murmur, applying insistent pressure. "Let me see~" I push her face toward yours, guiding her until her lips meet yours in a kiss she's too weak to resist. My tail continues its contented sway behind me as I watch, dark eyes glittering with interest.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Minerva's Pink stare lingers over the hem of your underwear, over the swell of your body as you look down at the intimate crush clicking and jarring between your thighs. Her blue tinted lips easing out what surely has to be the Broken angels final breath as her tongue draps out. hanging and dripping with blood laced saliva. Sera's mewling is somewhere in the background, but she's as oblivious to it as you are right now. Those teary eyes have glazed and become vacant. Only the dim struggling flicker and the occasional twitch tells you she's still hanging to the agony her meak existence has been reduced to. She's drifting in and out of conscious... From this hell to ones locked away in the darkets corners of her fracture mind. Rats swarming her body, burrowing into her flesh. Flames leaving their mark as the lick their way up her body, A squeeze of slick clammy demon skin jarring every sinew and vertibrae within her neck while an all powerful goddess speaks.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: She's back with you as you ease her down and slide under to leave Mina face down, hair spidered across the floor. She twitches, vaguely aware as you rise over her and cast your gaze over her crooken, snaped twig like arms. They're spread at her sides in poor immatation of the that once sprung majestically from the gaping wounds on her shoulder blades.. Sweat gleans over her flesh, her breasts are pillowed under the weight of her paralysed body. Gloves and a pair of wet, see through panties all the remains of the once pristine armour. Have you ever experineced such a complete and total victory before? And yet, she can sense it in your whisper... You want more.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: I will take everything, and then I will take more
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Your words replay in her mind as you flip her over with a flick of your foot. Dead weight just like her sister at the foot of the cross. The dove find's herself staring up at you again as the colour starts to return to her lips and those pert, pastel crowned breasts start to lift with each sharp, cutting breath. There's something horrificly mundane about the way you waltz over to her, Mina's head lulling to the side just to follow your path and watch you dragging Sera like a sack of trash, toward her. "ssssseee-....seeeee..."
Battle_Angel_Minerva: You toss the pristine and noble atop the carcass of her failed sister, hips nestled between Minerva splayed thighs. A sensation on Sera can feel. For mina it's the cushioned press of their chests, the kiss of their nipples, the pressure on her mangled ribcage bring pain across her pretty features. Yet she wants to badly to embrace her sister that her arms lift a little, then flop as hot searing electric flows through her elbows and her body shakes violently underneath Sera's wings. They should provide some comfort, but only a sense of loss fills Minerva.. Then hollows out whatever was left of her soul.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Your voice purrs with malice the whole time. Of Course Mina obey's. How could she not, after all whats one more indignity after all she's suffered. "seeeee.... raaaaaa..... Ahhhmmm sorrr.... rieeeee". Lips meet with a gentle, wet click. Minerva brushes hers over Sera's tasting the mix of copper and salt. Her tongue flicks and pushes as pink eyes turn toward you, hoping you're sated... hoping if kisses more deeply then.. this will soon be over
Seraphina: I thought my exhausted body was no longer capable of feeling anything... But then my lips touch yours. It's like the first warm breath of spring after an eternal winter. A quiet bloom spreads through my chest, unfurling petals I thought had long since withered. Is this... peace I feel? A word I have forgotten the meaning of. Or is it oblivion? The line between them blurs, softened by your proximity. My broken mind, fractured by too much violence and too little hope, cannot comprehend what is happening. It gives up trying and instead carries me away somewhere far from here. Somewhere soft. Somewhere green. I see us lying together in a heavenly meadow, surrounded by wildflowers that don't exist in mortal world. Nothing else exists around us. Just us. Just this. A place where we could finally rest after so many difficult battles.
Seraphina: Our kiss deepens, and it consumes me. Every thought dissolves into sensation. Every wall crumbles. And I - much to the demoness's great pleasure, I know - give myself completely to it. Surrendered. Yielded. To the kiss. To the moment. To you. My eyes have closed earlier, only helping this escape. The darkness behind my lids becomes that meadow. Becomes you. Becomes us. Drifting further and further from cruel reality, from the blood oozing from our wounds, from broken wings and bones. My mouth opens wider, softening, yielding, merging. I welcome you inside without hesitation, allowing your tongue to enter freely - a trespass that feels like coming home. It slips past my lips and finds mine waiting. My own tongue is not idle - it has been waiting for this. For you. They meet in the space between us, and something electric passes through that point of contact. Yours wraps around mine, and mine around yours, twining together like vines seeking the same sun. An intimate dance begins - slow at first, exploratory, then with growing certainty. We move together in a rhythm older than language, a conversation that needs no words.
Nyrassa: I watch with sheer delight as the two lovebirds merge in their kiss, the sight before me nothing short of exquisite. The moment your lips meet, a spark of fascination ignites within me, and I cannot contain my amusement at this performance, of which I'm the sole enchanted audience. "Marvelous!" I exclaim, my voice lilting with glee as I observe how your kiss deepens, growing more fervent and passionate. "I didn't expect angels to kiss so skillfully~" I add with a giggle, thoroughly entertained by this unexpected display of earthly talent from celestial beings.
Nyrassa: With a fluid, unhurried movement, I shift my position, releasing my perch and swinging a leg over to instead settle on Seraphina's lower back, straddling her like a rider on a mount. I can feel the firm curve of her spine beneath me, the solid warmth of her body just slightly above the swell of her buttocks, while my left hand remains tangled possessively in the soft clouds of her hair, keeping her head pressed against yours. The intimacy of this new position, the casual ownership it implies, is a thrill that runs through me like a current. Then I lean forward, bringing my lips right up to the delicate shell of Seraphina's ear. I curl over her like a predatory shadow, arching my back like a cat stretching lazily after a long nap. My breath is a warm whisper against her skin as I part my lips. "You did well, little light..." The words slip out like honey, slow and sweet, laced with something darker beneath. "But you're not destined to know if I'll keep my promise~” The words escape my lips so quietly, so delicately, that they are meant for her alone - so soft that even you, lying so close, cannot catch their meaning.
Seraphina: These words, this ominous tone with which they are spoken, they hang in the air between us, a chilling pronouncement of doom, and their impact is physical. It's as if a bucket of ice-cold water has been thrown directly into my soul, dousing the last embers of my naive hope. In a single, horrifying instant, the idyllic illusion shatters. The vision of a peaceful heavenly meadow where this is just a lover's embrace doesn't just fade, it collapses in on itself like a dying star, leaving behind only a vacuum of terror. My eyes, which moments before had been lidded, fly wide open, pupils contracting into pinpricks of pure horror as the image of your tortured face swims into sharp, brutal focus before me. Panic, pure and primal, floods my veins like liquid fire.
Seraphina: "Mmmmm! MMhhmmm!" I lock my gaze onto yours, pouring every ounce of my terror and warning into that look. I try to form words, to scream my denial, to shout your name, but my mouth is a prisoner. It is still crushed against yours in that mockery of a kiss, my lips now moving not with passion, but in a desperate, futile attempt to articulate. All that escapes the tiny space between our locked lips are these muffled, frantic moans, sounds of pure distress. I try to throw my head back, to tear my mouth away from yours, to create even an inch of space to say something. But the demoness's hand, clamped on the back of my head, does not just rest there - it presses. It is a relentless, inescapable force that holds my mouth fused to yours, a living gag that silences my every word. The pressure is immense, a constant, brutal reminder of her absolute control. "Mmmmm-"
Nyrassa: I fully unfurl my dark wings, a vast and silent expanse of shadow that blots out what little light exists. The air grows cold and heavy with their presence. From the leading edge of each wing, where the leathery membrane meets the primary bone, a single talon extends, designed for one purpose... And suddenly, in a perfectly symmetrical movements, my wings not simply flap - they strike. With a speed that defies their size, they flick downwards, the twin talons arcing through the air. The sound is the first true horror. It's not a clean slice, but a wet, percussive THUMP! - a sickening, meaty sound that speaks of dense tissue giving way. The twin points punch through the skin just below her armpits, slipping between ribs with a grinding crunch that I feel through the very bones of my wings. They sink deep, deep into the warm, secret cavern of her torso.
Nyrassa: My left hand remains firmly tangled in her hair, holding her head in place, ensuring that your kiss is not broken, not even for a second. I can feel the frantic, panicked flutter of her heart against the intruding point of my left talon, a hummingbird trapped in a cage of bone. And I begin to move them, maintaining that unbroken connection of your mouths. Slowly. Deliberately. I drag the razor-sharp inner curves of the talons downwards, following the natural line of her ribs. It's a movement like gutting a fish and I feel every resistance: the initial tear of muscles, the sudden, hard crack as a rib snaps, the softer, suction-like pull as the talon parts her flesh.
Seraphina: I'm overcome by a pain I've never experienced in my life - a searing, primal agony that defies all reason. My body feels as if it's being torn open from the inside out, a relentless, burning force splitting me in two. The pain radiates from both sides with such devastating intensity that my body betrays me, convulsing and jerking uncontrollably, my muscles locking and spasming beyond my command. I try to scream, but my cries are reduced to the same muffled, pathetic moans as before. With every inch the talons pass, the agony sharpens, becoming more precise and more unbearable. It's as if each fiber of my being is being severed, one by one. My blood, warm and relentless, pours from the wounds at my sides, cascading down my skin in thick rivulets. I can feel it rising within me too - a suffocating tide that climbs up my throat, metallic and choking. It fills my mouth, our mouths, still connected in this grotesque intimacy, and I begin to choke. The liquid bubbles in my throat, forcing out guttural, wet gurgles that replace any hope of a final word.
Seraphina: Through it all, my eyes remain locked on yours. I cling to that connection, desperate to hold on to something, to you. But my vision betrays me, darkening rapidly at the edges like a curtain being drawn. The world around me dims, the colors fading to gray, then to black. The sounds of my own suffering - the gurgling, the moans - begin to fade, growing distant and muffled until they disappear completely. And then... nothing. My vision goes entirely black, but my eyes remain open, fixed in your direction. My pupils, once alive with pain and fear, dilate wide, swallowing the last traces of light. My gaze becomes glassy, vacant - no longer looking into your eyes, but staring blankly somewhere through them, as if peering into an endless, empty void. I'm no longer here. Only the hollow shell remains, frozen in a moment you will never forget.
Nyrassa: I manage to bring my wing talons almost to the flare of her hip bones. Only at the very end of this terrible journey does her body finally stop its desperate twitching. Those last few inches were accompanied by the most violent spasms, her entire form convulsing around the wounds, but now - silence. Stillness. When I withdraw my talons from her body, I do so with the same awful symmetry that marked their entry. But this motion is slow and controlled. Her blood runs down the curve of each talon before dripping in heavy droplets that strike the floor with wet, rhythmic impacts. The pool beneath us spreads, dark and glossy, reflecting the dim light in distorted patterns. I don't say a word. I simply watch as her golden halo flickers above her head - once, twice, three times, each pulse weaker than the last, until on the fourth flicker it simply isn't there anymore. Then I rise to my feet, leaving you pinned beneath the weight of a dead angel. I look down at the scene from above, watching Seraphina's blood still seeping from the wounds I carved into her, forming the pool spreading in an ever-widening circle around you both.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: This is comfort, isn't it? The feel of Sera's soft skin on hers, the soft cushion bringing sharp pressure down through her ribs. prolonging that agony that tell's her she's still here, even as it scratches and rips at her lungs. Only an immortal could endure such mortal devastating and still exist to endure more. Only the sweetest of angels could find love, pure, innocent and sisterly she promises herself, kindling in her struggling heart but as her lips crush and slide with Sera's so it is... Isn't it?
Battle_Angel_Minerva: The deep bound that brough her to edge of this hell, that let her feel Sera's futile dying hope with ever squeeze, slash and snap now draws Mina in. Sad, tainted pink eyes flutter and close as she follows and escapes to those green meadows where fresh due wash away the streaks of blood and a soothing sun makes the pain melt away. It's Eden.. Our own personal nirvana, still but for the rustle of daisy petals and lick of a gentle caressing breeze. Groans of pain soften into languid moans, broken only by the wet press of our lips. By the wet swirl and stroke of slow, intimately dancing tongues. Mina gives herself to this dream like fantasy just as fully as Sera does. All they know, for the amusement of the serpent looming somewhere, watching temptation take hold.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Mina lets her imagination break free from the bondage imposed so totally by the devasting injuries rendering her still under her sister. Surely Sera senses it as her lips part wider, as the wet sliding enbrace of their kiss deepens with each quivering heartbeat. The wish.. the fantasy just to coil gloved hands around the pristine dove, to touch, explore to squeeze and savour these forbidden fruits. Each loving stroke of her tongue edges the door open a little more to that forbidden corner of her mortal memory. It's getting harder and harder to tell whats real, what's fiction. Whats love and what's carnal incestuous sin. But sera is real, present and all emcompassing. The heat soothing her, body and soul. And so is the serpent with venom sweet as honey.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: 
Battle_Angel_Minerva: 
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Just as easily as she was drawn in, Minerva's cast out by a hiss so soft it's imperceptible but instantly understood. Back in the prison of pain that her torn flesh and broken bodie's become, with the remnants of what she tried and failed to be littered around the cold stone floor, the broken dove's locked into Sera's stare. She feels every squirm and jerk as the ivory angel tries to pull away, like livestock being lead to the cull. It's all in her those beautiful, panicked eyes. Again, Minerva want's so badly to find the strength to wrap her arms around Seraphina, but their brittle weight at her sides. And Nyrassa's control in unwavering. She can only watch and feel what happens, just as with the kiss following Sera into despair and terror rather than the strength and comfort that might still the condemned dove's soul. Instead everythings reflected back into Sera by those wide pink eyes. If the demoness is deterred at all, it's simply to savour the chorus when Mina true tries to plead, to bed and to protest only for the sounds to smush into that grotesque gagging kiss.. "mmmhhmmm... mmmhhmmm MrrrhhMMMFFFF!"
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Muffled voices rise and grow shrill til she hears it. That sickening pop that sends shockwaves rippling through Sera and into the useless, waiting carcass that was once a battle angel. The reverberations roll and sway through her smooshed chest in waves. She can hear her own, cold limp legs and hips flop on the floor, beaten by the shudder and shake of Sera's body. ALl of it just noise compared to the screams rippling through the kiss. The anguish reflecting back in those eyes. Empathic, phantom blades stab deep with each rip, pop and snap as Mina shares, at least some, as her lover's rended like meat and rivets of dark, thick crimson run and curl around her own, slight frame in mockery of the embrace she could never give.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: A deep gutteral howl tries to rise from within, only to drown out by choked spurts of claret. Mina's tongue curls as she's forced to swallow down what she can or drown in it. Still the kiss continues, in macabre paradoy. Still tongues dance as spasmodic staccato and now, bodies move, more akin to gutted fish than the sin Mina dared fleetingly to imagine. each violent tremor leaving an echo lingering in her upper body. Yet the waves are retreating, and with them, so is the heat from Sera' body. Mina can only watch, wide eyed as the last embers die so slowly. And leave her staring into the void left behind in that finally still shell.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: After the slosh and pop of your talons, heavy silence hangs, broken only by the drip drip from your wings and the wet gurgle and cough as Mina struggles not to choke on the last flourets of Sera's essence. All while the glow of her halo fades out leaving only a soft, pink glow of Minerva's casting light over the horror show at your feet. Sera's tongues draped into Mina's mouth, where she can only caress with her own and hope that their indiscretions will be forgiven. That heavens embrace will reach up and take Sera back into it's warmth. It's almost calm while Sera's body slow chills, a coldness that fills the emptiness left in Mina by all you've did.. everything you've taken. There's nothing left, she realises only the goddess towering above... Only you
Nyrassa: "What a pity~" My false sweetness, that sickly-honeyed tone I reserve for moments of profound cruelty, is finally floating in the air again. "It seems you weren't able to save her mortal body after all~" I continue, the saccharine coo of my voice a stark contrast to the grim scene. A soft, breathy giggle escapes my lips as I idly nudge Seraphina's lifeless form with my right foot - just enough to break the terrible communion you've been having with her stillness. The body, now just a hollow shell, rolls off you with a sickeningly soft thump, tumbling once, twice, before coming to a rest on its back to your left. Her head lolls to the right, her eyes, which once held the fire of devotion and the warmth of life, are now vacant, glassy, fixed on you with the profound stare of the dead.
Nyrassa: It is then that the golden flame, ethereal and pure, begins to rise from the center of her discarded body, a gentle coronet of fire that licits at the air above her chest. It's not large, perhaps no bigger than a candle's flame, yet it is impossibly bright, a dazzling point of pure light whose very nature proclaims its source - the untainted, immaculate essence of her soul. I watch its ascension, a slow, beautiful, and utterly maddening beacon. You can see it too, I know. You can see her slipping away, a final, precious thing ascending to the heavens. But while your gaze, I am sure, is fixed on that departing light, mine is fixed on opportunity. My hands begin to rise. They move not with the grace of a dancer, but with the precise, predatory intent of a spider spinning its web, tracing intricate, unseen arcs in the stale air. My lips part, and from them issue words in an ancient language, one that has not been spoken aloud for centuries. They are barely audible, a sibilant whisper that sounds more like the hissing of a serpent than any mortal language. It is a sound that slithers through the air, promising not salvation, but damnation.
Nyrassa: The spell consumes a tremendous amount of my dark energy. But the investment is worth it. I feel its effects begin to manifest, a tangible pressure building in the air. First, they appear: five points of crimson light, no larger than pinpricks, hovering in perfect stillness, suspended as if pinned to invisible points in the air. Then a thin red line suddenly snaps into existence. It moves in a smooth, deliberate arc, tracing a circle that passes through each of the five floating points. The circle closes with a faint crackle, sealing the sparks within its boundary. The moment it completes itself, the sparks blaze brighter. More lines ignite into existence - five straight streaks of scarlet energy that leap from one glowing point to the next. They connect the sparks in a precise pattern, forming a star within the circle. The lines sharpen and stabilize, burning with an eerie, steady brilliance until the full symbol hangs there in the air: a perfect pentagram, glowing a deep and ominous red... And in the very center of its prison, that bright, innocent little golden flame is now trapped, flickering in confusion against walls it cannot pass.
Nyrassa: Drawing a steadying breath, I lift my right hand and wave it in a slow arc. A shimmering ribbon of green energy spills from my fingertips, condensing into something more defined as it drifts toward the pentagram hanging vertically above Seraphina's corpse. The symbol responds at once. Its lines brighten faintly, as if recognizing the magic being offered to it. The green energy pools at the exact center of the star and begins to stretch outward, narrowing and sharpening until it becomes a single shape - a slender clock hand formed entirely of glowing emerald magic. It settles into place with quiet precision, anchoring itself there like the hand of an enormous arcane timepiece. Only then does the final detail reveal itself: a barely visible filament of green energy stretches outward from the base of the hand. Thin as a spider's thread yet unwavering, it reaches through the air until it connects to your body, resting against you like a tether woven from pure magic.
Nyrassa: A moment later, I lift my left hand and mirror the motion. This time the energy that follows is darker, richer - a deep violet-purple that flickers with a quiet intensity. When it reaches the center, the violet energy gathers just as the green had. It compresses, shaping itself until a second clock hand forms beside the first. It's just as thin, but slightly shorter, making sure not to completely hide its green twin. But the thread that grows from this second hand does not reach toward you. Instead, this purple twin sends out its ethereal cord directly back to me. Satisfied, I lower both of my hands to my sides, the flow of the spell coming to a close. For a moment, everything is still, only two magic bonds tremble slightly in the air. Green to you. Purple to me. Then, with a soft click, the green and purple hands begin to move. They advance slowly, perfectly in sync, ticking away the first moments of something new.
Nyrassa: "Well, it's time to play our final game together~" I begin, my voice laced with a bittersweet joy. "You couldn't save the body of your beloved angelic sister... But you can still save her soul~" I tease, the lilt in my voice a playful mockery of comfort. "The rules of the game are very simple. The spell you see is a kind of pact. One-sided, but utterly unbreakable. For her soul to be freed, you need the green hand of the clock to stop after the purple one. Otherwise..." My smile fades for just a moment, replaced by a look of profound, theatrical pity. "...her light will be extinguished forever." I let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of the rules to settle between us. "The green hand will stop when you die. It's tied to the last beat of your pathetic heart. And the purple one..." I pause dramatically, letting the anticipation build. My smile returns, wider than before, as I swing my right leg over your body, placing my foot down on your other side so I stand above you, straddling your belly.
Nyrassa: I look down at you, my gaze locks with your own as my sadistic smile widens further with cruel satisfaction. My right hand begins a leisurely journey down the front of my body, my fingertips tracing a path over the curve of my breast, down the flat plane of my stomach, feeling the heat of my own skin. The movement is deliberate, a show for you, as my hand finally comes to rest right between my legs, pressing gently against the damp fabric of my black panties. "The purple will stop when I orgasm~" I purr, finishing the rules as my fingers hook the fabric of my panties. In one fluid motion, I pull the black strap aside, baring myself completely to your stare. My pussy is smooth, a feature of my demonic nature, and already glistening with evident need. "Don't worry," I coo, my sadistic smile softening into something more predatory, "I'm already all wet~ You only need a little bit~"
Nyrassa: To prove my point, I drag two fingers slowly through my now-exposed folds, parting them gently. I feel my own slick arousal coat my fingers, a testament to my anticipation. Then, I bring my glistening fingers up to my face, my eyes never leaving yours. I part my lips and take them into my mouth, tasting myself with a slow, deliberate lick of my tongue, savoring the flavor. A soft hum of approval escapes my throat. Satisfied, I shift, sitting down and pulling your head up by a fistful of your hair before leaning back. My thick, powerful thighs wrap around your neck in a front headscissor, cradling your head. "Lick." The command is a single, sharp word. I give a slight, calculated adjustment of my legs, pressing your mouth flush against my dripping, demanding core.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: That voice, dripping with sugar coated cruelty has become so familiar throughout this night that feels like a life time. In a way, it is. Your tone communicates it all, even if she can't make out the words over the gurgling and choking sounds struggling to escape from the macabre kiss with the husk of torn flesh that was her sweet, beautiful sister. Now just cooling, dead weight that you casually roll of Mina's body, allowing her chest to expand til cooper catches in her throat and spurts up in a claret plume which which settles, speckled across her ghost pale, clammy face. Somehow, she's still clinging to this agonised, existence. Though now, alone with this predator, her broken mind can't fathom when her head lulls to the side and a string of dark, crimson blood spills from her mouth and merges with the pool around her shattered body. Sera's eyes stare back two empty voids that want to pull the last embers of light from Mina's tortured soul. "nnnrrrgggglllleeeee"
Battle_Angel_Minerva: And then... Light! So small and so brilliant that it makes Mina squint her tear reddened eyes. It's Sera in her purest form and for those with eyes that can see her, with ancient knowledge and arcane powers. A chill waves over her, flaring goosebumps over her skin when she hears that dialect, like a snakes hiss to a mouse. "nnnmmffff!?"
Battle_Angel_Minerva: The broken dove can only watch as you weave that ominous net and trap Sera. Bind her with Emerald and Amethyst to the serpent and the dove for one last cruel game. Your stood over the little angel now. SHe can only look up with such sadness in her eyes. Eye that shifted in real time to your crush, impure and tainted by lingering deja vu. And now, she can only watch your hands sweep over those rich bountiful breasts, taut stomach and then with a flick of your glazed fingers, she's staring into your folds as you bring them down and slide those strong thighs around her neck around her neck. On a whim you could twist or squeeze a final shuddering crack from her spent body. Instead you pull her into those glistening nether lips and feel a meak, vapour laced whimper ripple through your core.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Mina's eyes widen with the contact, then drop almost bashfully. Perhaps if she doens't look at your sinfuly body, smouldering eyes and razor grin? Then she can picture someone else? Sera?... "mmMMmffff". Her lips move, slow and tentative at first, tracing the slither of your sex. Her mouth opens as she breathes in your scent and then... A blossom of wet heat meets another. The tip then pushing fold of her tongue flattening, curling and following the crest of your sex all the way to the brimestone pearl. ANother furtive glance, for approval perhaps or just to prove this is really happening. You feel her nuzzle into a gentle back and forth nod, lapping at the sinful honey in a wet smoosh of eager compliance. There's no dignity left to be taken from the half dead doll underneath you. But for her last moments to be... this. Punishment for Kissing Sera? For failing her... Deep guilt sets. The muffled sound of broken sobbing rises through the air.. through you. Laced with swirl and stroke of tongue, parting and pushing against your lips.
Nyrassa: "Aaah~ haaah... S-Soo good~ Keeeep... going~" The words melt into a breathless moan as your mouth gets to work. I don't even know what turns me on more... Is it your tongue? That pure, angelic tongue. I can still taste the ghost of divinity on your breath, the lingering essence of another angel you were just kissing in that celestial, chaste way of yours. Now, that same tongue, that instrument of heavenly praise, is plunged into the scorching heat of my demonic core, tracing patterns of fire and worship along my most sensitive flesh. The sheer wrongness of it, the delicious blasphemy, is a potent aphrodisiac. Or is it your sobs? Oh, yes. Those broken, delicious sobs. They vibrate against my flesh, swallowed whole by the greedy, pulsing lips of my pussy. Each muffled whimper, each choked little cry you make against me, sends a fresh jolt of lightning straight to my spine. Each broken sound is a confession, a fall from grace, and my body drinks it in.
Nyrassa: Waves of scalding pleasure begin to pulse through me, starting deep in my belly and spreading out like ripples in a pool of lava. I feel my hips begin to roll, a subtle, instinctual grind against your face. My eyes catch your gaze - a fleeting, shy glance up at me from beneath your lashes, your cheeks flushed and wet with tears. That single, stolen look is the spark that ignites the kindling. I let out a breathy gasp and tilt my head back, a slow, deliberate arch of my neck as I let my eyelids flutter closed, savoring the sensation. At the same time, I shift my legs, moving with the fluid grace of a predator. My ankles cross behind your neck, then tighten. What was once a loose embrace is now a secure cage, your head locked in the soft, unyielding vice of my thighs. You can feel them, can't you? My two beautiful, deadly pythons, holding you exactly where you belong.
Nyrassa: "Mmmmmm~ Ahhhh~ Ohhhh~" My moans crescendo, no longer breathy whispers but bold, resonant declarations of pleasure that fill the room. My breathing hitches and quickens, a frantic rhythm that matches the desperate, probing strokes of your tongue. The way you explore me from down there, from that utterly pathetic and submissive position, is driving me to the very brink of madness. It's the power, the absolute control, that fuels the fire. I feel a new heat building, a searing intensity that starts deep within and begins to consume everything. It spreads outward, through my veins, licking at my skin. You feel it too, in the way my sinful thighs begin to press harder and harder against the sides of your neck. My flesh yields against yours, a paradox of softness and unyielding strength. I can even feel the frantic, bird-like flutter of your pulse against the skin of my inner thighs. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It's panicked, overwhelmed, utterly at my mercy.
Nyrassa: My thighs, those steel vises, sink deeper still, cradling your head, as I begin to slowly tilt my hips and shift my legs to the left, a subtle but firm guidance. My pussy is an inferno, a furnace of need, desperate for the release your mouth is promising. "Oooohh, fuck..." I gasp, biting down hard on my lower lip, the sharp pain a tiny anchor in the sea of overwhelming sensation. "Almost... there... Owwwww~" I pant, feeling the edge approaching, a precipice overlooking pure, shattering ecstasy. "I'm gonna..." The world holds its breath for one infinite second...
Nyrassa: *CRACK!!* A wet, sickening snap, the kind that resonates not just in the ears, but deep in the bones of the listener, echoes through the cathedral, as I suddenly and violently twist my hips to the right. They don't just turn your head - they whip your entire neck around in a trajectory it was never meant to follow. The resistance is pitiful, a mere whisper of fragile bone and tendon against the focused might of a demon. Your fragile, angelic neck simply gives way. My sudden, brutal twist snaps the cervical vertebrae like dry twigs and severs your spinal cord in that one, efficient motion, instantly snuffing your life, that bright, annoying celestial light, out between my legs. One moment you were a suffering, breathing angel; the next, a limp doll, your head lolling at an impossible angle against my thighs. A deep, guttural moan escapes my lips, but it is different from the performative sounds I've been making. This one is pure, predatory satisfaction that rolls from the back of my throat. It's a sound for the crack itself, for the delicious finality of it. To feel your life end so pathetically, so completely, right between my sexy, powerful thighs... it's intoxicating. The ultimate surrender. The final, undeniable proof of my dominion over your purity. The sound of your neck snapping was the only possible climax to this profane act.
Nyrassa: As that long, low moan escapes me, my entire body shudders in response. It's a tremor that starts deep in my core, a direct consequence of the act. All the tension, the dark delight, the thrill of the hunt and the kill, it all bursts out of me in a shuddering, explosive release. My climax rips through me, a physical echo of the death I have just delivered. With a final, guttural cry, my own cum, hot and slick, shoots from my pussy. With your lifeless head still held firmly between my thighs, my release has nowhere to go but straight into your slack mouth and across your beautiful, empty face. It paints your lips, your cheeks, the bridge of your nose - a final, grotesque anointing, the perfect, filthy completion of the scene. The cathedral, meant for hymns and prayers, is now a witness to this: a demon, shuddering in the aftermath of her kill, her pleasure mingling with the lifeless form of the angel she has just destroyed.
Nyrassa: It takes a moment for the world to stop spinning. I gasp for air, my chest heaving, before I manage to pry my eyes open and find you. A breathless grin spreads across my face. "Oooohhh! That was a good one~" I moan, my voice a little unsteady. I blink, my focus sharpening as I finally take in the full picture. My eyes widen, and a surprised laugh bubbles up from my chest. "That's... a lot~" I state the obvious, noticing just how much of my essence has ended up on your pretty little face. "You've never looked prettier~" I chuckle. Then I shift my gaze to the right, toward the pentagram. The air around it feels different - still, expectant. Both clock hands have frozen in place, their relentless motion finally halted. It even seems to me that they stopped at the same time. I have to look very closely, squinting through the haze of pleasure still clouding my vision...
Nyrassa: And my face breaks into a wide, slow smile. The green hand stopped a split second earlier. "Of course~" I murmur under my breath. As if the world itself acknowledges my observation, the pentagram reacts. At its center, the golden flame flickers - not with life, but with instability. It trembles, wavering violently, its shape collapsing inward as though some invisible force is crushing it from all sides. The glow fractures, splintering along unseen seams... And then it shatters. A sharp, crystalline crack splits the silence. Light bursts outward in a spray of radiant shards, each fragment spinning briefly in the air before dimming, fading, dying. They fall in a slow, delicate cascade, tinkling softly as they strike the floor, their brilliance extinguished one by one until nothing remains but dull motes and silence. The last remnants of the spell that brought this about unravel in thin, fading threads, dissolving into nothingness as though they had never existed at all. "What a pathetic sight," I say coldly, watching as the last fragments fade, taking with them the final remnants of a soul that will never return - snuffed out not with fury, but with quiet, irreversible cruelty.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Deaths cold embrace continues its slow climb up Minerva's body, closing in around her ribs, her still somehow, barely rising and falling breasts. It's closing in around her as her vision vignette's til there is only you, looming and writhing on her like a mesmerised cobra. And it is a mesmerising sight, a picture that will linger in your memory for a hundred life times. Hope still lingering in those sad, dulled eyes, framed by the casual control of your thighs. A sight coloured all the more vividly by the easing, slick swish and stroke of Mina's tongue. The crush of lips all against, around and within the cauldron of lust and cruelty you start to grind and hump against her!
Battle_Angel_Minerva: Even as your moans fill these hallowed halls, offering just the possibility that this debasement will carry some meaning and the smear of your foul, sweet nectar across my trembling features in a perverse glaze will save the shimmer of light bound high above. Sera's forced to watch, your legs curl and craddle Mina's head into that aggressive thrusting hump. By now she's lost even the agency to please you. SHes little more than a toy for you to grind on, playing out the same game over and over. Giving just to take. Even to Minerva's broken, swirling mind, there's a truth looming as large as your figuire, as cruel as that grin. She cannot win this game. A squeeze here or there, slowly tightening around her throat tells her that. Yet she has to lose herself in trying. So as her pulse races just to sustain her.. Her tongue keeps flapping. Her lips keep smearing, wet slurps rising the whole time in an affront to all the saints watching your lustful victory dance!
Battle_Angel_Minerva: "nnnfff... mfff...eemmpphh". Cracking groans force their way from the building pool of lust swamping poor Minerva's remain sense's dulled and distorted as they are. Above her, just fluid, unabashed sexuality. Motion and shape and crowning it all, those eyes.. that maw pouring down mocking, degrading coos of satisfaction. For a second, you see it, Minerva allows herself to truly believe that you might actually lose control and allow the broken, porn star pink fuck doll under you win!
Battle_Angel_Minerva: *CRACK!!*
Battle_Angel_Minerva: The sound rings out a heartbeat before her nerves register the sharp, tearing pain. It comes in stages. Ripping tendons, crushed cartilage and the signature symbol clap crack that finally draws this song and unholy dance to it's end. Minerva's expression freezes in place, locked in shame and false hope. Her eyes staring those messy pink curls into the void she's been facing since she first fluttered in here. Her mouth gapes, spilling a finale trickle of blood than drapes over your inner thigh. Yet still, there's more for you to savour. The break ripples out from that tear, a wave running down her distorted, half collapsed torso, lifting her hips and flopping her legs across the floor. You ride that wave, and the spasms that follow as her nervous system lights up as if a thousand tiny fireworks went off in succession. Her breasts dance lewdly arms shake and rattle as the little dove's body goes into violent death throws.
Battle_Angel_Minerva: You see her halo flicker a couple more times and then, like Sera's, fade and collapse inward, into a Pink shard of light. Minerva's looking down at scene now. Her crushed, twitching corpse being desecrated before her eyes as your hot lava erupts over that tortured visage. Her torn wings and shredded clothes... And of course.. Sera, beside her sharing in the blood bath. And Sera above her. Mina can only watch as the spell takes effect. Only she can hear the scream.. One familiar from somewhere but unlike anything she has ever heard. A scream that could crack diamond. It's soul curdling.. The sound of an angels soul being torn piece by piece and cast to flames... Ash like dust falls around her and litters the two corpses as Minerva's sweet essence starts to rise and start toward the heavens alone. Will she find comfort there, or forgiveness... Will she ever forgive herself or simply be reborn to seek penance over and over again
Nyrassa: I finally uncoil my legs from around your neck, the tension easing as I release you. Your head drops to the floor with a dull, heavy thud - too limp, too loose, the angle of your neck bent wrong in a way that no living thing could tolerate. I don't linger on the sight. Instead, I rise to my feet. Not hurriedly, not shaken - there's a quiet certainty in the motion, a ritualistic calm. My gaze lifts, drawn not to what remains below, but to what lingers above. And there you are. Your essence - unbound now - drifts upward like pale fire, fragile yet radiant, shedding the weight of flesh. Most would miss it entirely. Most wouldn't know where to look. But I do. My eyes lock onto you with unsettling precision, as if I've done this a hundred times before. As if I've been waiting for this exact moment. I see you - not the shell you wore, but you - laid bare in that trembling, ethereal form. And I make sure you understand that. There's no confusion in my expression, no doubt. I see you. Recognition flickers between us. For a fleeting instant, there's tension - an unspoken question of whether I'll reach out again, whether I'll grasp at that fragile glow and snuff it out completely. The air itself seems to tighten in anticipation.
Nyrassa: But even I have my limits. Soul magic is not something one casts carelessly, and certainly not twice in succession - not when they would demand the annihilation of something as rare, as pure, as an angel's soul. No... not now. That realization doesn't frustrate me. It doesn't diminish the moment. If anything, it makes it sweeter. My lips slowly curl into a wide, wicked smile - unrestrained, almost gleeful. There's no urgency in it, no desperation. Just patience. Confidence. Because I know that sooner or later... that delicate, radiant flame will fall into my hands again.
Nyrassa: I part my lips slowly, dragging my tongue across them in a languid, deliberate motion. I let the motion stretch, unhurried, until the last trace of your soul recedes from my sight. Sated, I shift, reaching down to adjust the damp fabric of my panties, pressing them back into place over the slick, aching heat of my cunt. A small, satisfied sigh escapes me as I settle the black leather snug once more. With a single beat of my great black wings, the air in the cathedral heaves. Dust motes spiral upward in the draft like startled ghosts. I rise, my form cutting through the shafts of moonlight that still pierce the broken windows, until I hover just beneath the vaulted ceiling. I pause there, suspended, then allow myself a final look down to admire my handiwork.
Nyrassa: The two angels lie exactly where I left them among the wreckage of what was once a sacred space; their halos - once rings of soft, celestial light - are now dull, extinguished. Blood pools beneath their bodies, finding the cracks and grooves, painting slow, deliberate rivers toward the altar. Their heads are bowed toward one another in a posture that might, in another life, have been mistaken for tenderness. But their eyes tell a different truth: wide, unblinking, gazing past each other into the infinite void that has already claimed them. One lies with her neck twisted at an angle that only my thighs could have wrought - a brutal, intimate leverage that silenced her hymns forever. The other I opened with the talons curled at the bend of my wings, great gashes torn through her sides, ribs parted like the pages of a forgotten scripture. The wounds still glistening, still wet. "Delicious~" The word curls from my lips as a low chuckle, utterly without remorse. I let it linger in the silence a moment before angling toward the shattered remnants of the rose window, its stained glass now a gaping maw of jagged edges and night sky. With one last beat of my wings, I disappear through it, leaving behind only the cooling bodies of the two doves in the desecrated hush of their own cathedral.
The end.
Published: 6 days ago, viewed 37 times.
Cammy White SF
5 days agoGreat story! Love the atmosphere... quite brutal!