Feature Writer: NovusAnimus

Feature Title: A Taste Of Hell: Yosepha

Published: 17.06.2022

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: Take a peek into the world of Hell, and the Great Tower

Author’s Note:  Welcome. “A Taste of Hell” is a mini series of small novelettes, each told from a unique point of view of side characters in my upcoming main series, “The Pleasures of Hell,” a fantasy adventure set in Hell. While the main series will have two PoVs, both human (brother and sister) and not featured in this series, these prologue/bonus chapters will give curious readers a taste of this setting from the view of the various angels and demons that populate it, and a taste of the erotic elements. These chapters are entirely optional. No need to read them if you’d prefer to go into the main series blind. Erotically, “A Taste of Hell,” and “The Pleasures of Hell,” will focus largely on monster girls and monster boys, usually paired with someone not monster-y. Expect lots of kinks to be explored, with exaggerated proportions, size difference, deep/large penetration, harems and/or reverse harems, and plenty of others. There’ll be fantasies for dominant and submissive readers alike. Erotic scenes that are particularly long and descriptive will be bracketed with ♥♥♥ /♥♥♥. If you’re not looking for a juicy scene, skim the dialog in these sections so you don’t miss anything important. As for this chapter, I may have gone a little (lot) overboard on the sex. It happens, I apologize! But it’s a good chapter for exploring some of the more monstery aspects of the sex in this series.

A Taste Of Hell: Yosepha


Three years before the Arrival — Yosepha

She was Yosepha, born of the Heavenly Island Ravid, and one of the mikalim angels. Battle called to her. The sword and shield of Michael flowed in her blood. She would die upon the planes of Hell, defending the gates of Heaven from demons of grand design and delusions of power both.

Except, here she stood, bored and waiting in one of the adult caretaker sanctums of the Ravid island, one of the last places she wanted to be, and frowning at her friend Janiya. It wasn’t that she had a problem with sanctums. The angels within performed many services for the humans, of all ages, depending on the sanctum. Some played with the children who died too young. Some tended the war torn, and soothed the wounds on their souls. Some jousted verbally with the quick witted, or played games with the humans who wanted to spend their time in Heaven enjoying themselves, until they decided their time had come to move on.

It was just, this particular sanctum was one where the humans came to satisfy their sexual desires, an adult sanctum, and Yosepha did not want to be here. For many humans, sex was a great way for them to heal the damage to their souls. For others, sex was a game, one of many they wished to play to enjoy their time in the afterlife, until they were ready to move on. Janiya preferred to work with the humans who had suffered while alive, and who needed a gentle, sexual touch, to heal. And when her patient started to heal, she indulged their newfound joy with increasingly erotic treatment.

The white marble around them, with hanging drapes of almost clear silk, and open archways that allowed the eternal sky to shine light into the sanctum, was beautiful. The gold vines that swirled and lined each curve of the building shone brilliantly in the white rays of Heaven’s light. This sanctum, meant for humans old enough to understand and appreciate sexuality, could not be entered or seen into by children, for which Yosepha was thankful; she couldn’t stand the little brats. But there were plenty of things in the sanctum to annoy her regardless.

Yosepha sighed, and looked up and away from her friend, and the human man on her lap. But Janiya’s sigh of pleasure brought Yosepha’s eyes back, and despite herself, she found herself watching.

Janiya sat within one of the pools, with no roof above to hide them from Heaven’s sky. The water reached her waist, where a man’s head and shoulders rested on her thighs, his legs out on the bench built into the white marble pool’s wall. Naked, the man sighed softly into one of Janiya’s enormous, pale breasts, and nudged his face into it where it sat against his lips and nose. Janiya’s breasts, utterly ridiculous in size, were more than capable of reaching the man’s face on her lap, her left breast covering most of it. And when she leaned forward a little, her long red hair stirring behind her, she helped guide her nipple into the man’s mouth.

The human man was plenty tall, six feet, but Janiya was an angel, standing six and a half feet tall; average height for an angel of female tilt. The large man was more than well kept in her hands, and he sighed his own pleasure into her soft breast as she made sure to press it down against his face. With her wings relaxed against her back, Janiya stroked the man’s long black hair against the back of his head with her left hand, combing it through the water, while her right hand gently stroked his hard penis, just under the surface of the hot pool.

After fifteen minutes of watching this coddling, Yosepha groaned loud enough for her friend to look at her.

“Janiya, come now, can’t you do this another time? I wanted to speak to you,” Yosepha said. The humans had all the years they wished, to satisfy their desires. Their endless indulgences could wait.

The damnable woman smiled up from the pool at her, emerald eyes shining under wet strands of red hair. She shifted her shoulders a bit, large, soft wings resettling against her back and where they met the wall of the pool, and she shivered as she leaned back again. Even leaning back, the soft woman’s ridiculous breasts were large enough to reach the man’s face and bury it, so he could continue suckling on her, while she massaged his girth.

“You may speak. Jomei is relaxing.”

Relaxing, right. The Asian fellow definitely looked relaxed.

Yosepha rolled her eyes, and looked across the small pool to another angel who sat with his patient. Masada was a beautiful angel of male tilt, and well over seven feet tall, slightly taller than angels of male reflections. Short brown hair, azure eyes, tan skin, and the musculature of any mikalim. He was no mikalim, but he looked the part, save for the gentle, tender look in his dreamy eyes.

Like Janiya, he sat on the ledge built into the pool wall, water up to his waist, and like Janiya, his patient sat on his lap. Unlike Janiya, his patient was a human woman, and rather than rest her head on the man’s lap, she leaned back and away from Masada’s chest so she rested horizontal along the surface of the water. Masada held the small, blond woman’s hips, and he gently eased her back and forth in the water, slowly sinking her down onto his shaft until her body accepted every inch of him, before he just as slowly eased her off half his length. Back and forth along the surface of the water, the human woman let out quiet whimpers and moans, as she melted into what looked like a very soothing, pleasing pace.

Of course, Masada was massive compared to her, and angels were well endowed relative to humans, even relative to their own size. There was a discernible bulge along the small woman’s belly showing how much her caretaker filled her, a sensation she obviously enjoyed. Leaning back as she was, Yosepha didn’t have to lean over very far to get a peek at how much the woman’s smooth, tiny slit was spread around the angel’s thick girth, spread utterly taut, and how her juices coated him; the water of the pool would not wash such fluids away, such was the adults’ sanctum pool.

“Masada,” Yosepha said with a grumpier tone than she meant. Ah well, too late now. “Be careful with the poor girl.”

“I have been taking care of Jennifer for years,” Masada said, and he smiled up at Yosepha with the same damn, perfectly patient and charming smile as Janiya, before he slowly, tenderly, eased the woman down and down onto his long length, until her lips met the base of his girth. The distension along her belly reached past her navel. “I know what she likes.”

Jennifer managed to open her eyes enough to smile up at Yosepha and nod, before she closed them again. She whimpered, obviously struggling to manage how deep the angel penetrated, and how thick he was. But Masada was right, he knew what he was doing. Which of course made Yosepha all the more uncomfortable, standing around, watching two angels and two humans enjoying themselves.

Yosepha didn’t normally have much of a sex life, but her last encounter had etched sex so deeply into her mind, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even watching Masada now, an angel she never really thought about in a sexual manner, was stimulating. The way he held onto the small human, and penetrated her so deeply…

Yosepha took two steps back to stand over and beside Janiya’s shoulders, and let out an annoyed groan, hoping to grab her friend’s attention. Janiya ignored her. In fact, her friend sighed heavy bliss, let go of her patient’s length, and instead used her right hand to stroke her free breast. Fingers gently plucked and softly pinched the swollen, pink nipple, while the man on her lap suckled away, earning some more groans of pleasure from her. She quivered, and her moans turned into light mewls, betraying a creature as grand and powerful as her.

But soon her noises settled, and she relaxed back against the pool wall as she took her patient’s penis back into her grip.

“Really, Janiya?” Masada asked from across the small pool. “Orgasm, before your patient?”

Janiya laughed, a soft and fluttering sound, shrugged, and stroked her patient’s head lovingly, as well as his length. “Jomei refuses to let me treat him without indulging me.”

Yosepha grumbled under her breath, quiet enough to keep the two chuckling angels from hearing her. Damn gabriem. She sat down on the edge of the pool, and let her bare feet dip into the warm water. Everyone else was naked, but she wore her white silk robes and jewelry, and it’d be staying that way, no matter how many times they invited her into the water.

Unlike her friend, Yosepha was of dark skin, with short curly black hair. At slightly over six feet tall, she was shorter than most angels of female reflection, and she carried a little more muscle on her lithe frame than the soft Janiya.

Plenty of the humans desired Yosepha, and more than a few had asked if she wished to join them in the adults’ sanctum. They said they liked her obsidian eyes, her sharp face, and often said things like ‘her ass was to die for’; the pun was not humorous. She said no. She had little interest in most humans. Though, watching Masada with his patient now, she had to admit there was a certain appeal in her smaller, frailer body compared to the angel’s. But not enough to draw her sexual desires.

The things that did…

Sighing, she got up, and stepped over to one of the nearby mirrors, tall enough for any angel. Angels within sanctums were always in their rest state, holding the potram rune in their minds that came naturally when they weren’t fighting, or debating. Yosepha’s garb with potram was lovely, a white silk robe that left her arms exposed, gold bracelets and chains that circled her wrists, biceps, her tiny belly, her ankles, and several gold necklaces and earrings. Gold mascara and lipstick as well, all part of the presentation of her potram and her latest reflection.

Romakus said he loved the way the gold contrasted her dark skin.

She shivered, rubbed her arms, and looked over her shoulder to Janiya. The man in her lap had gotten up, stood in front of her, and now merrily thrust his length between her breasts as she sat for him. The girl on Masada’s length now sat upright, and pressed her chest to his body, hugging him, and bouncing on him desperately. There were other couples in the pool, humans, quiet in the presence of angels. Some were masturbating, and others engaged each other sexually. They’d also worked themselves closer to climax, until even their hushed voices were laced with moans.

Rolling her eyes, Yosepha leaned against a pillar overlooking the pool, and watched. Just because she didn’t have a particular desire to join them, didn’t mean the sight wasn’t slowly growing on her. Janiya and Masada were gorgeous, and ridiculously charming. Heaven knew what it was doing when it birthed them, and the other gabriem. Humans melted at the sight of them.

Yosepha smiled down at the small woman on Masada’s lap, and how, despite her attempts to take a more aggressive role, she was quickly overwhelmed and forced to lean back, limp in Masada’s hands. The human was tiny, compared to the angel. It was easy to imagine Yosepha on Masada’s lap, except, not Masada. Romakus. His huge hands on her body, his titanic wings burying her in shadow.

Yosepha shivered, and watched.


“I think you should avoid him, Yosepha,” Janiya said, shaking her head as she slipped her toga back on.

Tell her? Don’t tell her? She wanted to. It ached, not telling her friend what happened. But it was better to get her opinion without bias, as painful as it might be.

“He helped me defeat several devorjin, Jan. And we both know he’s working for the Damall.”

“The council has officially ordered all angels to consider the Damall as dangerous, and not to be trusted.”

“I did! I treated him as hostile when I first met him. But… but he saved me.” She hugged herself, rubbing her bare arms where her white robe didn’t cover. Her fingers trailed over the gold bracelets around her biceps, and she fiddled with them as she looked down.

“Yosepha, any mother could see you’re hiding something.”

Yosepha rolled her eyes. Janiya wasn’t a mother, though the gabriem certainly had a habit of thinking of themselves as parents.

“I talked to him, ok? After… after the fight.”

Sighing, Janiya sat on her bed. High in one of the white towers of Ravid’s gold city, Yosepha stood in one of the open archways, half a mile above the streets of gold. An angel flew by, and then another, mostly gabriem heading to various sanctums to spend time with the humans. Games, sex, the socializing sanctums were always popular. But there were other sanctums as well, where angels helped humans overcome the damage to their souls, often with nothing more than an open ear and open arms. It was the children, who often needed those sanctums.

“What lies did the serpent spin?”

“He didn’t lie. There was little to lie about.”

Janiya joined her in the archway, sliding the clear silk that hung from above aside as she did. “Yosepha, I can’t imagine he wasn’t trying to manipulate you in some way.”

“Why would he? The Damall have been killing demons for centuries.”

“Demons have been killing demons for centuries. Why should we treat the Damall any different now?”

“Because we’ve worked with them before. They’ve proven they’re trustworthy.”

“We have never worked with them. Sharing a goal does not necessitate cooperation.” Janiya sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps they simply bide their time, until they can steal a spire for themselves.”

There was no denying how terrifying a thought that was. Someone like Romakus, with the power of a spire in his grip, would be dangerous indeed. But, worse than any of the spire rulers Heaven currently contended with? She didn’t know. But, Romakus didn’t rule the Damall. No one knew who did, and the idea of a mysterious figure no angel knew of, becoming a spire ruler, was even more horrifying.

“Then all the better I learn what I can from Romakus. I don’t intend to share any information with him.”

Her friend shook her head. “It could end poorly for you, Yosepha. Just because you tell him nothing, doesn’t mean he might not… hurt you, or worse.”

“As you said, the council has ordered they be treated as dangerous and not to be trusted. I am doing just that. However, the council has made no decree blocking me from seeing Romakus again.” The council made few decrees, but no angel that wished to stay in Heaven could go against the rules of the council. Luckily for her and her plans, the rules were not specific enough to prevent her from speaking with members of the Damall.

The few rules that existed were enough to protect the human souls, and maintain the balance of the Great Tower. Little else was needed. Protect Heaven and ensure it continued to perform its purpose, all rules served that goal. The rules said nothing about angels and demons interacting with each other, as long as it didn’t violate council decrees.


“Cannot order me to do anything, Janiya, and you know that.” The horns had not been sounded. There was no war. Yosepha was free to do as she wished, and Arioch could not command otherwise. If she wanted to scout the vortex, she could. If she wanted to visit Hell, and risk her neck on her own foolhardy goals, she could.

“I wasn’t going to suggest he could. But Arioch is clearly concerned about you, Yosepha. This will be, what, your tenth excursion in the past year?”

She sighed and nodded. It was true.

“Others may be willing to let the demons amass, but I’m not.”

“I understand you’re restless, Yosepha. But why are you willing to risk your life on a whim?”

“It’s no whim. The Damall are amassing, and Romakus is willing to speak to me. I have to learn more.” And save the fool’s life, if she found him in the same circumstance as last time. “If the council refuses to order our forces, and Arioch refuses to acknowledge the threat, I will deal with it myself.”

Janiya grabbed her wrist. “Please, friend, you are one angel.”

Smiling, Yosepha turned and pat her friend on the shoulder with the other hand. “Then come with me?”

“You know my place is here.”

“You are not bound to this place.”

“No, but I would not forsake the souls here. I do not want to. They need my help, Yosepha. You may not feel for the humans as I do, but please understand that they have earned their place here.”

“It need not be for long. A week. Maybe two.”

Janiya shook her head. “And if something happened to me? I am sorry, dear friend, but my place is here, taking care of the souls within.”

Yosepha would never understand Janiya, or any of the gabriem. But then, that was how it should be, how the creator had intended it to be. Yosepha was mikalim, and it would do her no better to fault Janiya for her heritage than it would for her friend to fault her for hers, and her need to fight.

“Do you truly think it impossible for a demon to be trustworthy?”

After a long, heavy sigh, Janiya let go of her wrist. “No. But only a fool would consider it a wise choice to trust one before they’ve earned it, Yosepha.”

“Of course. This will take time, but I think it would be more foolish to simply ignore what the creature has to say. I will be careful, and take every precaution before I so much as suggest cooperation with the brute. But… I will speak with him again.”

Nodding, Janiya kissed her on each cheek, and bid her farewell.

Bookmark: I saved your life, well I saved yours! Yosepha flew back to her room. It was plenty large, a single floor of one of the many great white towers, and each outer wall comprised of numerous arches that served as windows and entrances. She pulled closed her white curtains for each window, announcing to her fellow angels that she wished for privacy. Sighing, she stood in front of a grand mirror, framed in spirals of gold, and she admired her reflection's reflection. She was more fond of this body compared to her old one. The dark skin and lean frame, and short, dark curly hair, were lovely. A sleek and mischievous face with obsidian eyes. The gold tattoos that many angels' reflections bore these days, both angels and humans found them beautiful; as it should be. The gold lipstick, gold eye shadow, and gold fingernails, the gold and silver earrings, necklaces, rings, and belly chain, all given to her by her latest reflection and its potram rune. Upon receiving the new reflection, she had been delighted by its elegant beauty and contrasting colors. <div class="aa_ht"> <div> She had realized it would delight someone like Romakus, as well. She shivered and rubbed her arms as she looked at herself in the mirror. How could she have let that beast do what he did? She should have smote him, drove her blade through his skull, and rid the Great Tower of a great and terrifying demon. But she didn't. A part of her felt guilty for sparing him. A much larger part of her felt guilty for what came after. Was that what this foolish quest was about? Simply a guilty angel seeking an excuse for her behavior? But then again, if Romakus, and indeed other Damall, could be convinced to cooperate with the forces of Heaven, perhaps actual progress could be had? Perhaps she could even learn who ruled the Damall? "But if I bring this to the council, they will rebuke me, and likely order that I cease this foolishness." Better she pursue her goal without the council, before an official order could be given. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission." Something a demon would say. A rather eloquent demon, but a demon nonetheless. Worst of all, worse than this quest she found herself in, was an itch she could not quite admit. An interest in Romakus, perhaps? Or, an interest in what he had done to her? Foolishness. Nodding, she stood up straight before her mirror, and focused. Slowly, she pushed the potram rune from her mind, and replaced it with her batlam rune. A powerful gold and white set of lines, beautiful, intricate, unknowable, hidden deep within her mind. Did all angels' runes look the same? No one knew. They could not draw them, or even describe them. But they were there, inside, and very real. In a gentle gold and white glow, everything changed. The jewelry vanished, replaced with her armor, thick plates of shining white lined with gold. Heavy plate armor from head to toe, complete with a helmet that hid the face save for T-shaped visor. Beautiful armor, marked with the gold spiral patterns of Heaven. The battle armor of a mikalim. Nodding at the mirror, she stretched out one wing, and then the other, and they glowed yellow as they prepared to carry the great weight of a mikalim angel ready for battle. She flexed her left hand. Immediately, her shield erupted into existence, bathed in more of the glowing light of the angels, before solidifying. Triangular in shape and three feet tall, it bore a white face with gold trimmings, similar to her armor. The shield of the mikalim paled in comparison to the shields of rapholem, but she was no guardian. She was a warrior. She needed to be able to move. She held out her right hand and flexed. Her sword burst forth, and she squeezed the grip. A white grip, with a gold guard and pommel accented with more spiraling lines. The blade itself bore nor color its own, a perfect mirror surface along a thick blade three feet long. She smiled through her helmet down at her familiar blade and the reflection of her helm on its mirror surface, and unflexed her hands. Both the shield and sword vanished into her, disappearing into her grace, to be summoned for battle when needed. There was a very good chance she'd need them.

Her wings glowed bright gold as she cut through the vortex. Raging winds, swirling sparks of red lightning, thunderous booms, and deadly maelstroms of ice shards or volcanic dirt from below. She followed it down, riding the outskirts where it cut through the clouds of Heaven. Down, and down, and down she went, expertly flowing over the harsh winds, striking a balance between where the winds pushed her down, and where they pushed her up. It was never quick for an angel to fly the vortex, but it was far quicker than a trip to the gates.

She kept her arms at her sides, and flapped her massive wings against the harder winds that sought to pull her into the vortex’s center. No matter how many times she flew these winds, there was a thrill to getting so close to the center of the vortex, where its energies would rip her to shreds. A thousand trips, probably more, and she still found herself inching closer than she should, for a hint of that thrill. The humans called it adrenaline. To an angel, it was far simpler: her grace enjoyed it.

Eventually she broke free of the currents, and she sucked in a hard breath as she descended below the inferno clouds of Hell. Scorching heat burned at her body, but her armor protected her. Her grace protected her.

Below, was Hell. As enormous as Heaven was, Hell was larger, a vast landmass covered in pain, misery, torture, and hate. Up here, she was safe to soar the skies; no demon could fly this high. Up here, she wasn’t able to hear the screams and cries of the humans below. She would be forever thankful, as every trip she made into Hell only served to remind her how truly blessed she was to serve Heaven, and how truly cursed the demons and the humans in Hell were.

The demons didn’t seem to mind. The humans did.

Sighing, she began the descent. With the power of her wings, fueled by her grace and the light of Heaven, she could travel quickly. But quickly covering a landmass the size of Hell was no easy feet. Even with the light of Heaven fueling her wings, it would take days to reach Death’s Grip.

These trips were never easy, and few mikalim took them without reason. And after stories of Ramiel spread, they now had more reasons to not. Leave the demons to their machinations and slaughter, the council advised. Well, advice was not an order, and Yosepha did not trust the demons below to remain as warring states. Sooner or later, things would change, and she would not let it be a surprise. They had to be prepared.

Three days of flying, and she found the peak she was looking for. The spire of Death’s Grip reached even higher than its extreme mountains, but she avoided it by miles as she found the specific mountain she was looking for. The angels called it Eve’s Bosom. The demons called it Eve’s Tits. Crass beasts.

As she descended, she looked to the spire, many miles closer to the center of Hell. It stood ridiculously tall, with dozens of black, metal spikes jutting from its cold, hard exterior. She had nothing to fear, not from this distance, but she continued to glance its way as she spiraled down toward the twin peaks of the mountain, one slightly taller than the other. Closer, and closer, until she found the flat point upon one of peaks where she’d met Romakus before.

Her breath froze, as did her heart, as she saw the brute waiting for her. A part of her had hoped he would not be, so she could dismiss the whole situation and forget the dangers she placed herself in. A larger part of her was glad he’d arrived. Finally, she could speak with a member of the Damall, and do what other angels refused: make progress.

The flat bed of rock was raised on its edges by twenty feet of stone, making it a sort of pit, or arena, hiding the ongoings within. And within, stood Romakus.

The brute was a gorujin, one of the ‘deadly four’ breeds. Deadly four, because wherever trouble stirred, one of those four breeds was always at the forefront. It was understandable. Few breeds of demon could match their might, while also being capable of scheming. The fact one of these breeds was her contact with the Damall was not a good thing. The simpler breeds like devorjin or tregeera could rarely see past their stomachs, but the four could lay plans for centuries.

He was huge, a brute of muscle and power. Ten feet tall, with a set of wings of his own that utterly dwarfed hers, demon wings, with claws tipping each wing finger and thumb. Two arms and two legs, and he walked on giant talons on raptorial feet, with a long, solid tail behind him. Like most demons, his skin was crimson, dark to the point of black where his skin was hardest, and red where it was soft. He carried four black horns upon his head, gigantic, and imposing. He wore bits of armor across his body, sheets of dark metal strapped to his limbs and waist, and more than a few skulls of demons and humans dangled from metal chains.

It was his face that was particularly frightening. It was a scary face. Not grotesque. Not ugly. But there was no denying it was the face of a demon, with deep eyes below heavy eyebrow ridges where his dark horns connected. His mouth was large, and even when he closed his mouth, many of his enormous, sharp teeth were visible. The hard cheek bones and pronounced chin would have been handsome on any human or angel’s face, and indeed, many of the male angels had such features, usually the gabriem. But on a gorujin, they also served to highlight his many teeth, and the strong angles of his skull as it connected to his almost regal four horns.

He grinned up at her, and bowed, a deep bow complete with a flourish and spreading of his wings. His wing span was ridiculous, twice the length of hers, and she gulped as she slowly lowered herself down into the pit.

“Yosepha. Couldn’t get enough of me.” A statement, not a question. The brute licked a few of his fangs with his large tongue, and he casually stabbed his sword into the stone. Like him, it was a brutish blade, probably something smashed together from the blades of other demons, forged in one of the spires, and stolen by him.

Or perhaps, he still worked for one of the rulers when he acquired it? She truly knew little of Romakus, except that he was an esteemed member of the Damall. This trip had a second purpose: learn more about Romakus.

“I’ve had quite enough of you, Romakus,” she said, and she landed a couple dozen feet away from him. By the Lord, he was tall. She was over six feet tall, a touch short for a female angel. But even a large angel of male reflection would look a child compared to a gorujin.

“Don’t say that, Yos. You came all the way to see me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Yos. Such an insult.”

The beast chuckled, deep voice booming in his large chest. “What brings you here, angel?”

“To talk about business. I assume you saw me approach, and decided to meet me?” Slowly, she strafed the beast, her heavy boots quietly clinking as they met the stones of Hell with each step.

“Mhmm. A couple other nearby demons saw you coming, too.”

“And you–”

“Ate them, naturally.” He licked his teeth, and winked. Despite his playful act, Romakus was a predator, and his red eyes made her feel like prey.

Angels were strong. Angels were powerful. But all angels knew to avoid an engagement against one of the terrible four when alone. If this secret meeting turned sour, it could mean Yosepha’s death.

But if Romakus wanted to kill her, he could have, the last time they met. Easily.

“Tell me about yourself, Romakus.”

“Oh shit, is this a date?”

She frowned from inside her helmet, continuing to strafe the beast. “You watch your scrying pools far too much.”

He laughed, and returned the gesture, strafing her and keeping forty feet between them, leaving his enormous sword behind. His strafe looked far more natural and imposing, with how he leaned forward and let the weight of his long, thick tail counter balance him.

“Surprises me you angels don’t act more like your humans. You talk to them all the time, don’t you?”

“I’m mikalim, not gabriem. You know that.”

He purred, an almost growl-like sound, and chuckled. “That I do.”

She did her best to ignore that sound, but she couldn’t. It was a delicious sound, dark and heavy, and something she’d felt tingle through her whole body before.

No, it was not delicious! Keep your head on straight, Yosepha. This brute isn’t even an incubus. Stop thinking about him that way.

“Speak, demon. What are your intentions with the Damall?”

“I don’t control the Damall.” He shrugged again, and came closer, still strafing around her but closing the distance by a foot. She let him.

“I know. But you’re a gorujin.”


“You’re no pawn. You’re manipulating the Damall.”

“Manipulating is such a strong word. I help them, they help me, everyone wins.”

She frowned inside her helmet and pointed a metal-clad finger at him. “Are you after a spire? Death’s Grip’s spire?”

“Well it’s not like I’d say no if someone offered me a spire. I’m a gorujin, like you said.”

“Are you saying you’d march on the walls of Heaven if you controlled a spire?” She held out her hands to her sides, and with a single thought, etching the creation rune of batlam into her mind, her hands glowed. Once the shining aura of gold was gone, her sword and shield materialized in her hands, and she pointed the sword at the brute, shield at her side. “Tell me now, beast.”

He came closer, undeterred. “Oh, would we fight if I did? I’m down for that. You’re hot as fuck when you fight.”

She swung the sword through the air down at her feet, cutting a gash through the stone. “You underestimate me.”

“No I don’t. You’re an amazing fighter.” He came closer, and slowly spread his wings, as if preparing to fly, or pounce. “But, I’m not after a spire. I don’t want that responsibility. I’m happy to sit on the side lines, you know?”

“I found you fighting Zelandariel’s personal guard!”

He shrugged again, and came closer yet again. “I was spying. They caught me. I had to cover my tracks. And I was hungry.”

“The Damall wouldn’t send you to spy, Romakus. Do not lie to me.”

After another infuriating wink, the beast stepped closer again, and the two continued slowly circling each other. His tail was longer than her total height.

“Actually, I’m here because Zel and I are secretly lovers. I was there to fuck her, but I was spotted, and she had to keep up appearances, you know? Can’t let people know she’s actually fucking one of the Damall. We’re rebels, after all.”

She sliced the ground again.

“I said do not lie!”

The damn demon grinned, showing many of his sharp teeth. “But I’m so good at it.”

“We know Zelandariel despises you, Romakus. She has for centuries. You two are not lovers.”

“Lovers? I didn’t say anything about lovers. Jealous?” He came closer, smiling incessantly, and flexing out his wings some more. He liked making himself look big, bigger than her. And there was no denying it, he was utterly huge compared to her. Only the council had wings as impressive as his, but even they weren’t nearly as large.

Again, she did not back off. Showing weakness to a predator, demons included, was always a bad idea.

“Don’t be absurd.”

He laughed. “Don’t be like that. Come on, we saved each other’s lives. We can be honest with each other.”

“I saved your life, demon.”

“Oh? You mean that devorjin that jumped your ass wasn’t about to cave in your skull?”

She winced, thankful her helmet hid her expression. “I…”

“You were pretty surprised I helped you, weren’t you?”

“I expressed my thankfulness!”

He chuckled, and the dark vibrations tickled up her spine.

“Yeah, you did. I loved every second of it.”

She wanted to take a step back, but didn’t. She could not expose even a hint of fear, not to a carnivore like Romakus.

“That is not what I meant.”

“Sure it wasn’t.”

“It was not!”

Chuckling, he came a little closer, occasionally licking his fangs as the huge beast treaded along silently around her.

“We saved each other’s lives, Yos. You know what that means.” He gently tapped his tail against the stone underneath him before resuming his prowl, looking her up and down like his next meal.

“It means some trust has been earned. Some! It is hardly unheard of to save the life of another, in order to come under their good graces, with full intent to deceive them in the end.”

“Jesus, you think too highly of me.”

She winced again. “Highly?”

“To think I’m really thinking that far ahead.” He shrugged again. “You want to know what really happened?”

Nodding slowly, she relaxed her arms somewhat as she strafed him, though she did not release her weapons.


“I was taking a peek at what Zel was up to. Believe me or not, that’s what I was doing. Got cocky, got jumped, had to fight off her fucking devorjin. Dumbass brutes.” Again he shrugged, and he came a little closer. “Then an angel came out of nowhere and helped me out. Of course, she got cocky too, and because I’m such a nice demon, I helped her out. A truce was made. And then we–”

“Enough. Keep your secrets, then.”

He sighed, but chuckled all the same. “Really, it should be me asking why you were there.”


“But I don’t ask. Angels do angel things.” Another shrug. “We all know what you’re about. Good enough for me.” With a heavier sigh, he stopped prowling, and folded his arms across his half-armored chest as he faced her head on. The brute glared down at her, eyes hard, small dots of black inside predator red irises.

But slowly, the bastard’s sinister mouth of sharp teeth widened into a smile. A smile she recognized.

“How about,” he said, “we have some fun, and I’ll tell you more.”

Oh no.

“Romakus, we’re… we’re not doing that again.”

The gorujin licked his lips with his very, very long tongue, and he undid the leather strap holding one of his metal wrist guards. It fell to the stone with a heavy clank, hard enough to dent the black rock. He did the same with the other as well, exposing enormous scars that ran the length of his dark skin. Dark, but growing redder by the minute.

Finally, she took her first step back, eyes growing wider. She gulped and pointed her sword up at the behemoth as he reached down, and undid the strap of his black leather and chain loincloth. It fell, as heavy as his gauntlets, the dozen different skulls attached to it bouncing and clinking as well. He took a step toward her, and undid the straps of his greaves, each only just large enough to cover the quadriceps of his titan legs. They fell as well, exposing more scars, and more muscle. He dug the talons of his monstrous raptor feet through the hard stone, tearing it up, and he chuckled darkly as he stalked toward her.

“Romakus, I’m warning you…” She flared her wings and glared at the man through the slit of her helmet. But her sword arm shook, and her voice wavered. She wasn’t afraid to fight him, but a different kind of fear tingled on her fingers. Memories teased through her mind, reminding her of the demon’s touch, the way he felt, the things he did to her.

Her focus faltered. But did not break.

“You’re not like the others,” the beast whispered, gravely voice tingling up her spine. “Come on, angel. You like a good fight, same as me. And you like a good, proper rough fuck, right? The humans are too fragile for you, and you probably don’t care for you pretty, pristine angel buddies either, right?”

She frowned harder, and squeezed her sword harder, as if that’d help stabilize her focus. It did not. The beast was unapologetically crass, and his words grated on her. But, they also sent her imagination wandering into carnal territory, even if she didn’t want it to.

“I didn’t come down here to have sex, Romakus! I came to speak of your hunt, and the Domall. You don’t get to–”

Her voice froze, and her grip wavered, as Romakus’s arousal continued to build, until the once black skin of his arms and legs were dark red, and the once dark red of his chest, inner thighs, and stomach were blood red. From within his goliath body of muscle, his penis emerged, along with his testicles between his thighs, the shaft filling with blood and desire in seconds.

It was too large, and too heavy with blood to stand upright, but that didn’t change that it was a very aroused member, half pointed toward her as it collapsed forward with gravity. And it swayed like a pendulum between his legs as he took another step toward her.

Romakus spread his wings wide, and the massive span of them blocked out the flames of Hell’s sky, casting her in shadow.

As her eyes looked him and up down, her focus finally broke. The rune of battle faded from her mind, replaced with the sheer reality before her. A gorujin wanted her. One of the terrible four wanted to fuck her. And it wouldn’t be the first time.