She looked up, above the rows of wide, dark stairs to the door of a house that was nestled right into the stone wall. Everything was set in stone on this street, in this city. It was charming in the daylight, and was a reason she chose to study at the university here; she loved to stand at the bottom of the Grassmarket plaza—also stone, of course—and let her gaze play across the rows of roof lines marking the east-west run of each street, until they blended seamlessly with the Edinburgh castle walls high above.

But on a dark and moist night like this one, the street lights cast their filtered yellow rays across the edges of the city structures, and left the spaces between the stones unlit; black spaces, voids between the walls and outcroppings where you couldn’t quite tell if there was something there or not. A tingle crawled up the lower part of her back as she looked up and down the wall in front of her, and she wondered if she could overcome her hesitation. What demons lurked inside this place? She laughed at herself. But damn, that guy was hot, and she wanted to see him tonight. She had to stop mind fucking herself out here and just get in.

She was an attractive young woman, standing hesitantly on Princess Street there, although she wouldn’t have thought as much herself. A first-year student, wearing only a simple white t-shirt and jeans, cutting a trim figure, a small unicorn tattoo visible on her upper left arm just below the cuff, her hands folded across her chest in indecision as she squinted at the miniature fortress in front of her. The house could have been one hundred years old or a thousand years old; it was a permanent fixture on Princess Street, and over that time the stone stairs had blended seamlessly in color and texture into both its entrance arch and the polished street cobbles on which she was standing.

She sighed. Once already this evening she had stood in the same place, failing to gather her courage to climb and enter, to join the party whose noises she could hear pulsing through the thick stone walls, to pursue her target that evening. Instead she had fled to one of the many bars along the busy Royal Mile just a block away, and sampled a Macallan Scotch single malt. She didn’t even like whiskey, but it was something to do. On the way there and back she took pleasure in strolling along the high street, peeking into the many steep alleyways—Edinburghers called them “closes”—that ran at irregular intervals. They had mystery, and the deep history of tens of thousands of humans living in such small bounds for generations. But she had returned to her perch at the bottom of the steps, watching the shapes of people, mostly likely other university students, moving in time to music behind dark red curtains.

A large group of Chinese tourists passed behind on the street, bumping her. “Excuse me,” she said to them, annoyed, watching their backs as they shuffled on. It was almost ten at night, the street was fully dark, and the usual throng of visitors to the city had lessened to a trickle. Most were inside an establishment just like where she had spent the past hour, enjoying the best that Scotland had to offer for the past thousand years on a dark fall night such as this: whiskey, food, maybe a little entertainment, and companionship.

“Nika! There you are! Why aren’t you at the party?” A bright-faced young woman bounced down the stairs towards her from door which now stood wide open, pouring bright light from the foyer onto the street; trailing behind on the stairs stepped an eager and smiling young man in a smart shirt and trousers. She was quite a contrast to—and seemed unaware of—the dark and powerful forces Nika sensed in this place when standing in her solitude, brooding; but in the month Nika had known her, Misty never slowed down much to perceive the things that Nika did. They were just different types of people. And Nika was probably overreacting anyway; her wild imagination had a way of getting away from her.

“Nika, this is Ostin,” Misty said, pointing back to the redhead. “I met him here tonight. He’s from France, and a student at the Uni, too!” Her blush as she looked to Ostin told Nika quickly that her friend was hoping for some fun that evening. He was a decent looking guy, and Nika was sympathetic to her desires. Misty was an outgoing girl. A flirt, even. It had made for an interesting friendship in their first month of school, Misty’s energy and initiative complementing Nika’s quieter and more reflective nature. Even though she could sometimes be exhausting, Nika was glad of the role her new friend played in her life and knew it was good to coax her out of her own shell. For instance, it was Misty who had found the “ghost tours” that filled Nika’s mind tonight with the wondrous dark tales of Edinburgh’s past.

Misty pointed down to Nika’s chest. “I don’t think that’s going to make the impression you want. At least not from what you told me about tonight. . . .” Misty wiggled her eyebrows at her friend suggestively.

Nika looked down at her chest in surprise. She thought the tight shirt was flattering for her trim figure, and didn’t see what was wrong. She ran her hands over her chest, then back at her friend, “Misty, what the hell, it’s what I was born with. Not everybody has a figure like you.”

“Not your boobs, silly. You have nice little titties. Right Ostin?” she shot back to her new friend who looked happily back and forth between the two girls chests and nodded like a puppy dog. “I mean your shirt!” Across Nika’s white t-shirt, in bold black letters, was written the phrase, “CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE”. Nika didn’t think twice that morning when she had selected the outfit, one of her favorites. It was a gift from her sister back in their high school years, given in jest at a time when dumb guys would hit on both of them. She shrugged at Misty and smiled; it was too late to change now, but it didn’t pay to get worried about things like that anyway. What was going to happen tonight would happen, if it was meant to be.

They turned to go in, and on the way back up the stairs, taking a last look at the stone facades on all sides of this alcove, Nika reflected on those ghost tour stories of the city and about this house in particular. Edinburgh swirled in legends, and the town’s tourist trade never missed a chance to play up its dark history of over-crowded medieval living, deathly plagues, grave-robbing, early human medical research, criminal elements, child labor, ghost sightings, and more. The tour had even passed this very house, the guide telling them that it had been the home for hundreds of years of the royal executioners; their grisly deeds taking place in a public square not far from here up on the Royal Mile, a stone’s throw from the Edinburgh castle.

But as they entered the bright entryway, the energy of the party swallowed them up, leaving behind Nika’s forebodings from the street outside. The reason Nika was here, besides following along with Misty’s unquenchable thirst for adventure, was to find her target for the evening: Zachary Fraser. He was the son of the current owner of this house, the tenured and powerful Professor Fraser at the university. Zachary was a quiet young man, mysterious, serious, the teaching assistant in the freshman philosophy course where Nika and Misty met at the start of the term.

“I’m Una, welcome to the Fraser house,” said a woman’s voice gushing in a heavy Scottish accent. Nika relished the up and down rolls in her voice as the jowls of her cheeks and chin wiggled. She was middle-aged, portly, and friendly. She looked from Misty to Nika, and down at Nika’s t-shirt. ‘Ah, this must be the bonnie lass you were waiting for! Well, don’na the pretty face suit the dish cloth!” she exclaimed brightly. Nika raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, thank you Una. This is Nika. I found her outside,” Misty replied, and then in a mock confidential aside with a smile, “She was a little scared to come in here.”

Una laughed. “Yes, yes, well the Fraser house has a way of doing that to folk. It’s a wee bit intimidatin’ it is. Well, come on in Nika, and I’m sure ye will have a good time now that ye made it in.”

They thanked her for her hospitality and moved into the main rooms. “Who was that, and what was that about the dish cloth?” Nika asked her friends.

Misty shrugged. “Just some Scottish saying, I guess. She’s the housekeeper. Very nice lady. And she thinks the same of your t-shirt as I do!” she said, and laughed.

Nika scanned the crowds. She had only one image in her mind. He had a thick lock of jet black hair and the most beautiful creamy and dreamy skin. Nika had never seen him smile, yet she was drawn to him, almost as if he possessed a dark power. Her favorite television series was Lucifer. The smooth English actor Tom Ellis absolutely captivated her, and she would never admit it to anybody, but more than a few times her mental images of that man smiling wryly and slowly undressing before her had been the sole entertainment for alone time in a hot bath. Zachary looked just like a Scottish version of that handsome devil.

The three of them ducked around some groups of students—nobody that Nika or Misty knew since they were just first years—and wound their way through the main rooms, stopping to get drinks. They gave each other a congratulatory toast and smiled. Moods were high, Misty especially gushing now that she had found her friend, ready to be a willing audience for her conquests with Ostin. What good was it getting a guy to fall helpless for you if you couldn’t show off a little to somebody? Misty pushed her chest and ass out and wiggled a little, checking if any other hot guys nearby had noticed her.

The party was crowded, and the noise level of the chatter and music loud enough to make talking difficult. Only once did Nika get a glimpse of Zachary, standing tall in the midst of a group of students over by the entrance to the kitchen; mostly young women around him, all watching him closely while he listened attentively to their conversation. She wasn’t happy to see this. But what did she expect? By far she wasn’t the only one drawn to his good looks and mystery. And they weren’t even invited to this party as undergraduates; Misty had just heard about it and pulled Nika into the idea of crashing. For the moment, Nika gave up trying to get closer to her man, and just watched from across the room. She wasn’t eager to compete with a bunch of other girls for his attention; she wanted him alone.

A strong yearning overtook her. How was she ever going to approach him. He probably didn’t even know she existed. She had tried to speak up in the discussion group, and thought she had made some good points here and there, but he hadn’t yet shown any reaction to her, that he knew she was alive, much less a cute freshman hottie that he was dying to bang. During class, she had to take care not to stare at him too long, for fear he would look up and notice. And when he spoke, the rich tone of his voice was hypnotizing. She imagined listening to him read her poetry, by the fireplace. Warm and fuzzy, she felt like cuddling with him and falling asleep in his strong arms.

But her heart skipped a beat and she snapped back to reality when he looked up at her and returned her stare. His face was unmoving, but he was so beautiful. Her stomach flipped over. She wanted to look at him for hours; or forever. After holding her direct gaze for a few seconds, Nika caught a reflection of one of the red lights in the room off of his eyes. It puzzled her, but it passed quickly, and he turned back to the group to answer a question from one of the students. She wasn’t able to get his attention again, and not wanting to draw too much attention to herself, she marked this endeavor down as a success for the moment and looked around the room for a different amusement.

The party was in full blast but nobody else held much interest for her. Idle curiosity led her into the remote parts of the first floor, and she ambled down a less-trafficked side hall. Photographs and paintings hung on both walls, pictures of people and places that hailed from a century or more ago. Her mild interest turned into something real as she squinted at the beautiful historic pictures. Buildings and bridges and churches and grim men and women in conservative clothing, haunted faces looking at her from the past.

One of them was an old painting; she could tell its age because in the background was the South Bridge, standing alone with its supporting arches visible. But those arches had been effectively buried by additional development in the city as far back as the 1700’s. This much of Edinburgh’s history she had learned. In fact, there had been so much additional building nearby that bridge, that the city surrounding it had grown to the height of its roadway surface all along its length. Its entire span of 17 arches was buried beneath the city streets, a curious fact pointed out by all the tours.

But it was the face of the man that caught her attention. It was Zachary. Not even a rough match, it was exactly him in this picture, she was sure of it, he had the same eyes and nose and mouth and hair. She stared at it curiously, not able to take her eyes from the image, and shivered. How could this be? This was an old picture, certainly from hundreds of years ago, and her man was in it, looking out at her.

“There you are!” a voice giggled. It was Misty again; Ostin trailed her like an obedient servant as before. It seemed like Nika wasn’t the only one to get swept along under Misty’s influence. Nika could tell with one look that Ostin was ready to do anything of Misty’s bidding. Really anything. The horniness was written across his face like a typed message, as his eyes scanned from her tits to her ass and back again.

Misty’s voice held the energy of excitement. “Nika, you’ve got to see what we found!”

She led them to the back of the hall, and then in a sharp right turn down another smaller hall that took them further away from the entrance at the street. They must have been at the very back of the stone house now, and the noises of the party grew distant. Peering out as they passed through a small filmy window at eye level, Nika tried to get a sense of bearing, but it was pitch black in the courtyard or whatever it was that this window looked out on—maybe it was one of Edinburgh’s little dark closes—and she could see nothing except her dim reflection. Small rain drops had begun to streak the window; normal for Edinburgh weather in early October. She shivered again. What was it about this house that gave her the willies?

“Misty, are you sure we should be back here?” She whispered it quietly, but urgently, looking back down the hallway to see if anyone had seen them disappear from the party.

“Nika!” Misty responded in a louder voice. “Listen! My French boy here said he’s got a package to deliver to me tonight. An 18 cm package, you know what I mean?” She giggled, and Ostin looked at the two girls eagerly. Then in an impulsive move characteristic of her, Misty reached her hand down to the boy’s crotch and took a big grab of his pants, jerking up and down crudely, and smiled. “A large and thick package, wrapped up very nicely. I promised him I’d find a quiet place where I can unbox it. I think this is our place.”

It took Nika a moment to see where Misty was pointing: a door, at the very back of the hallway, blending almost seamlessly with the adjacent wall covering. The old cast iron latch holding it shut at the top was closed, but dangling through its loop was a padlock that had been left slightly ajar, as if someone had hurriedly attempted to push it closed but had not checked to see that it clicked shut.

“No, Misty. . . . You aren’t thinking of going in there?”

“We already took a peek. Ostin found a light switch and it works!” Ostin grinned in confirmation, and was already unhooking the lock to re-open the door.

Nika’s eyes opened in panic. “You guys! No way. We can’t do this.” She dashed back to the main hallway to look for anyone coming, and fortunately the coast was still clear. Or maybe unfortunately, she thought, because when she returned the two adventurers already had the door open and the light switch on inside the small stone chamber behind it. The light was a faint yellow, coming from a series of old lights hanging on the stone wall, the electrical cord draped between each one. They looked like the light bulbs from the movies in the 1940’s, and the ancient cobwebs hanging from them didn’t argue this point. Stone stairs led downwards, and the lights followed the walls down with them around a curve as far as they could see.

Jesus Christ, Nika thought, there is no way I’m going down there. What the fuck are we doing? This place was creepy enough already without us opening up secret passages in the walls.

But Misty was flush with the excitement of adventure. “We’ll just take a quick look, okay?” Ostin was flush with the anticipation of a good blowjob, Nika thought dryly. Desperate guys will do anything to get some oral from a pretty girl, especially a busty looker like Misty; they would even crawl down scary stairs at midnight in a haunted house in Edinburgh.

As she looked down the curve of the stairs she hoped Misty wasn’t going to descend, Nika recalled what she had learned about the city’s architecture. The houses fell away in a sharp drop from the high ridge of the Royal Mile street, and as the city had grown through two thousand years—as in other ancient cities of Jerusalem and Rome—the citizens merely cleared and built on top of what had been built by their forefathers. Nothing was removed. Lifetimes passed, and who knows what each generation covered up in the process, what was still below them under these floors, directly where these stairs were leading. There were even tunnels that still existed; many had been found and excavated, leading from the cemeteries to the medical school and other underground storage caverns used by the graverobbers years ago to carry their illegal cargo.

Nika snapped back from her reflections. Then she panicked. The other two had already descended a dozen steps!

Misty called back to her friend. “Nika, come on! And close the door behind you!” What. The. Fuck. She hesitated and watched them descend around the corner. This was the most outrageous adventure Misty had dragged her on yet. She thought quickly over the previous Misty outings—what had happened? Nika had to admit, they had worked out to be fun even after her fears. Should she trust Misty yet again? Maybe just this one more time, and then she would stop following this crazy girl.

“Coming,” she whispered as loudly as she dared, and stepped quickly to follow them. Be careful, don’t trip, she thought to herself as she dropped lower one step at a time, we don’t need to have an accident down here!

Down the path went, narrowing as the stone walls curved to the right. After another score of steps, they entered a room also cut directly out of stone. The ceiling was low, perhaps 7 feet, and on the far side was an empty fireplace, dark with ancient soot, surrounded on both sides by the openings of two more tunnels in what looked like a downslope to further unknown underground destinations. A large and sturdy wooden table stood alone in the middle of the room—large enough to hold an adult body, Nika thought grimly—and iron hooks and tools were spread around the walls. Cobwebs dangling across all the objects indicated that this was an old place, and things didn’t seem like they had been disturbed for possibly a long time. Nika didn’t mind that.

“Guys, this is really fucking creepy,” she said, but it fell on deaf ears as Misty led Ostin to the wall where there a crude metal platform fashioned about a foot off the ground. Misty turned to her redhead boy with a mischievous grin. Her imagination, such as it was for a horny and impulsive college girl, was in overdrive.

“Ostin, you are a prisoner of my dungeon tonight. Stand up here, boy, and put your arms here through these loops. You are in trouble, and are going to receive your punishment.” Ostin held up his hands to the ceiling dutifully, grinning as never before, with a huge erection in his pants visible from across the room. Misty looked around for a way to tie him up there, and when she glanced back and noticed her friend staring, she added, “Uh, Nika. . . can you check back up the stairs? You can make sure we are alone.”

Nika’s heard the request, but her gaze moved from her two idiot friends to take in more details of the room. Old rough tools were scattered here and there, and it was hard to make sense of their purpose. They looked like heavy tools used for working with iron or steel. Along the table next to where Ostin was being strung up in Misty’s mock torture ran a wooden hearth the length of the wall, on which were old photographs similar to the ones in the hallway above. But these seemed more personal, individual portraits.

She wanted to look more closely at them, but instead turned and trudged up the stairs as asked, at the top carefully checking that the door was pulled shut tightly. It was a busywork errand that Misty had given her, she knew, just to get some alone time with the big dick, but she listened for a few minutes for any noise in the outer hallway anyway. God help us if Zachary or his father, or any of their servants, find us snooping around in the basement of their historical house, she thought. Maybe some of this stuff is historic and valuable. They’d better get Ostin jacked off quick and back to the party before this gets out of control, and then get Misty back safely asleep in her dormitory bed. After a few more minutes hearing nothing but the quiet of the hallway, she thought it was time to get back down to her friends.

And when she returned, even though Nika expected it, in the little dungeon room she was surprised to see the sight of Ostin up on the platform, arms tied to the ceiling, and his pants and boxers yanked down to his ankles. His bare legs were shockingly white and his huge, erect cock pointed out towards the room. Misty was in a crouch behind him, one hand reaching between his legs to fondle his shaved balls and the other hand either rubbing on or maybe in his ass, Nika couldn’t tell and didn’t really want to know anyway. She put her hands to her cheeks in wonderment and shook her head. How does this girl get me into these situations?

“You’ve been such a bad boy, my prisoner of war,” she said in a cringeworthy mock jailor voice.

“Oh fuck! Merde! Mon trou du cul est en feu!” the French boy cried happily. Misty’s rhythms increased and her hand slid upwards from his balls to stroke the thick red shaft of his dick, up and down. This French guy was hung, that was for sure. His whole body tipped back and forth to Misty’s pulses on his ass, so Nika guessed that she had indeed found some object to stick up his butthole; hopefully for Ostin’s sake not something she had grabbed from this room that had 50 years of rust on it. Nika knew from their late night conversations that pegging a guy was one of her fantasies, but Nika herself had no experience with it, or even anything anal in fact. She wondered if Ostin did, but either way he sure as hell was finding out a lot about it in a firsthand experience now. He seemed to like it, based on his French.

“Good boy,” Misty crooned, and swung around to his front side. They were so involved with each other that they had ignored Nika’s reappearance. Misty switched unexpectedly from tough jailor mode into baby talk for her lover. “Don’t cum for me yet. You’ve got to put that cock between these beauties.” Pulling her top down, she knelt before him and guided his cock in between her soft, naked tits, kneading them with her own hands. Ostin was in ecstasy.

“Oh fuck!” he cried again, pulsing his cock back and forth through the big tits up to her chin, then Misty moved him into her mouth, taking him in like a pro down the throat with her lips wrapped around in a pout.

Nika rolled her eyes while she waited for the inevitable orgasmic conclusion to their throes of passion, and her gaze wandered around the room, to the pictures on the hearth again, then down to the floor. There was a bucket by her feet that she hadn’t noticed before. Her eyes flew wide open.

“Guys. . . holy shit. Guys!”

The bucket was empty, but along one inner side of it and along the top edge was a smear. Something wet. Something fresh.

“Misty, stop! Stop fucking! This room has been used. Someone’s been here, not long ago. We have to get out of here!”

“Oh Jesus, I’m coming, I can’t stop now,” Ostin cried. Misty pulled him out of her mouth and stood up quickly, looking for something to handle what was next. Unfortunately, she grabbed one of the pictures from the hearth and put it right in front of Ostin’s dick as it shuddered and exploded. Nika watched in horror as the old photograph was drenched repeatedly in lines of thick, gooey white cum.

Nika thought she heard a noise from one of the further tunnels. Fuck. She peered over but saw nothing. Was someone coming up from a chamber below them?

“Oh, oh. . . . c’était putain chaud,” Ostin said softly in his orgasm bliss, rolling his head back, eyes closed. He must have been desperate for a blow, to have saved up that much load in him. Misty had a way to pull every last ounce out of a guy’s balls. Ostin’s prostate was going to hurt for days after that one.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, reverting to English, looking down to the picture that the topless Misty was holding. “That’s a hell of a tribute pic.” He laughed, rudely. The old woman in the photograph was barely visible beneath the layer of white smears, looking out sternly at them.

Then Nika felt a wall of hot air hit her body. Suddenly a figure was there. Standing at the entrance to the far tunnel, wrapped in a clothing that obscured his face.

“WHAT?” the shape roared in a loud, deep voice, and strode into the room.

He was a large man, with dark hair and a black robe. Nika thought it was Zachary, but then she realized quickly that the build of this man was different. Stronger. Rougher. And he moved with more violence.

He glared at the two, then around the room to find Nika. His eyes were bright red with fury. But more than fury; it was an unnatural look. Was this a man, or a demon? Nika took a step backwards and fell against the wall. Who or what the hell had they summoned here tonight? Neither of her friends had moved an inch since he appeared. Misty still held the photograph, covered in Ostin’s white cum, and Ostin’s face turned as completely white in embarrassment.

The demon moved fast. His arm reached to pluck a long, sharp iron tool with a heavy metal head from the wall and in an instant plunged it deep into Ostin’s belly; then through it and out his back side. Nika gagged as she looked as Ostin’s surprised expression, his eyes wide open. It was more shock and confusion than pain, and he didn’t make a sound. He coughed up a single spurt of blood.

Misty screamed. The picture went flying from her hands and the glass smashed into a hundred pieces against the stone floor. The demon turned on her.

“You! You! You trespass and desecrate our mother. Our holy mother! You will die now, too!”

The demon reached with a meaty red hand to grab the haft of the spear sticking out of Ostin’s slumped and bloody belly. He yanked it out roughly. The point was barbed, and chunks of the Frenchman’s flesh tore loose from his stomach when the point came back through his body a second time from the other direction, out the front. Nika watched in frozen horror as Ostin’s body—because already she could not think of it as Ostin the person anymore—twitched in its dying convulsions.

Misty backed up step by step from the menacing demon, towards Nika who lay flat against the wall eyeing the stairway she had only recently descended. Only a few moments ago it had all been in fun, to watch her friends’ play acting, but now those stairs were her only way out of this. The playing was very real now. The demon was furious and had a lust for blood, that was obvious with his blazing red eyes and purposeful movements towards the girls. If there was any part of him that was human, any compassion left, it was sealed off and inaccessible. He wanted murder. More murder. And he came closer.

Misty screamed again.

Then a blur flashed across Nika’s vision, and when she refocused, a new figure had taken its place between them and the demon. Nika thought it was. . . then yes, she could tell it was Zachary! He swung his head back to the girls and growled a single word, “Hide.” Did Nika see a hint of the red in Zachary’s eyes now? It was the same that she had seen upstairs at the party, what she thought was a reflection, but now it was brighter.

“Rory!” he yelled to the demon in a voice that surprised Nika. Then louder, “Rory!!”

It had no effect. The demon swung his spear across Zachary’s chest in fury, trying to reach the girls, but he danced back to avoid its contact.

Then the demon squinted his red eyes and spoke in a low voice. “They have committed foul acts here, Zachary. They have desecrated mother. They will die.”

“No. my brother!” Zachary said, looking around the room to see Ostin’s slumped body. “You have killed the one. Let the others go free.”

“They must die,” the demon repeated, and took another step towards Zachary and the girls.

With a movement so quick that Nika couldn’t follow it with her eyes, Zachary snatched an iron tool from the wall beside her, and swung it upwards before him, parrying the attack from the Rory demon. The sound of iron on iron clanged loudly in the room.

Nika looked again over to the stairs for a possible escape, but before she could summon the courage to move her unwilling body, the two men danced in battle towards that entrance, blocking her. The iron clanged again as Zachary repelled vicious attacks by his demon brother. She shrank to the wall, hoping for an outcome that would leave Misty and herself alive, and Zachary as well. It was an even fight between the brothers, and the outcome was not certain at all. She knew that Ostin was beyond hope even if he could be taken to a doctor immediately, but she had no time to feel emotion for him.

In a flash, it happened. Rory attacked in a feint towards Zachary, which he moved to block, but the demon’s real strike was to the unprotected girl cowering in front of Nika. The instrument caught Misty hard and she went down, unmoving.

At that same moment, Zachary cried as he plunged his own iron deep into his demon brother’s unprotected torso. “Brother!” Zachary’s voice echoed in ultimate despair as they slumped together to the floor in a heap. Nika hadn’t moved. Nika could see that it was over for her friend; she was already past any additional suffering. She didn’t dare move or even breathe as she watched the two hulking, quiet figures in front of her.

The silence was interrupted by a clang as Rory dropped his end of the spear onto the stone floor. His body slumped further, and as Zachary disengaged from him Nika could see that all life was spent from the attacking demon. Nika didn’t know what powers a demon possessed, but they were evidently mortal in regard to having an iron spike thrust through their chests.

Zachary slowly rose to his knees, still facing away from Nika, head bowed towards his brother.

“Go now,” he said to her in a quiet, controlled voice. It held a tone of despair, but also urgency. “The debt of your trespass has been paid. Go upstairs now and I will do what needs doing here.”

“But. . .” Nika began. She didn’t know how to process her emotions from the past minutes here in this chamber. “Your brother. . . . you saved me, Zachary!”

“Go. Now!” he said sternly. “You are in danger.”

Nika stepped back in shock and surprise. “I am in danger? Zachary, I am Nika. I am in your section. At the university. Your philosophy class, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” It seemed a million miles away now, but surely Zachary would remember. She could bring them back to normal senses and she could talk to him about what had happened here. His demon brother. The murder of her two friends. How she was going to go from this night back to a normal life ever again.

His voice was low, and tightly controlled. “I know who you are, Nika.”

For some reason she didn’t take the opportunity to exit up the stairs. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the back of this man’s head as he stared at the body slumped on the floor by his feet. His figure was depleted. He was in desperate pain, having just killed his brother, and Nika was drawn to his suffering. She took a step towards him and reached out a hand. His shoulders were slumped, and began to tremble as he knelt on the floor.

“All the debts are now paid,” he said quietly, and this time it seemed he was speaking to his brother. There must have been a larger story around Rory that he was referencing, she thought.

There was still a small distance between her hand and his shoulder. She swallowed. This man ached badly, and he needed her. She wanted to give her love to him. She needed to give her love to him, to heal him. To cry that she was sorry for the trespass, for her friends’ actions, for whatever had happened with his brother. So that she could thank him. So that he would forgive her. So that she could reach closure.

Her senses were numbed; she could not feel her own body, yet she watched as her hand closed the space between them, as if it were another girl’s hand moving through the air, drawing nearer to this man she had fantasized about for weeks, the very man that she had come to see tonight. A very dangerous man. She was unable to turn and leave him in this room alone.

Her fingers grew achingly close to him.

Then she touched him.

He spun around in a fury, eyes blazing red. Panic gripped her now and she froze, her own eyes opening wide to take in the look on his face, the sweat dripping from his unshaven cheeks and down his neck to his open collar, the muscles rippling in his tanned chest, his strong hands clenching and unclenching the air by his sides. This was not just a man, this was a demon she had provoked. What schoolgirl fantasy had she been thinking? What had she done?

He took a step towards her, body quivering; she gazed at the lines of his neck where they merged between his clavicle bones and met with the curve of his pectoral muscles. At every heartbeat his skin pulsed outwards with the pressure. She caught her breath and faltered in a step backwards to the wall again as the strength in her legs threatened to give out. He spoke slowly and loudly, enunciating each word separately. “I told you to leave!”

Another step closer but still she did not flee. Her hand brushed the cold stone of the wall behind her and she shifted her weight to lean against it for support. He was a cat ready to pounce; all his muscles were tensed, and she was afraid that if she made any movement at all towards the exit that he would fly out and grab her. Was her chance for escape already gone?

But he stopped there. It became still and quiet in the room, except for his hands; he continued to clench and unclench them—without moving her head, she had peered down cautiously to see blood pulsing out of them and dripping to the floor each time he made a fist. He was watching this himself, staring, and as he raised his fists to his chest, his breathing turned into a hissing sound and then to an angry moan. Nika took another glance towards the exit as she calculated her odds, and sorely regretted not taking an escape earlier when offered the chance.

His moaning grew louder and in a growing rage he turned his fists to his chest and tore his shirt open. He clawed at his flesh, pulling at the fabric as if this material of man’s civilization burned the true demon that he was. A few more struggles with the sleeves and he was shirtless in front of her. His entire torso was tensed, muscles bulging, the veins standing out in his arms as he raised his fists high above his head.

When she looked at him in the eyes again she saw that the smouldering red had turned to bright red demon fire. Whatever creature or agent that had struggled to possess him had won. The Zachary she knew was gone. Steam rose from his naked torso and his face turned to an ugly sneer. The sound he made was as from an animal, and angry hands lowered towards her.

She screamed, fearing for her life. “Zachary!” she cried.

He froze with his hands mid-air, his face showing recognition of something drawing him back to the real world.

“Zachary!” she repeated. “I’m Nika! I’m your student, remember. Please don’t hurt me!”

His breathing lessened and the eyes dimmed one shade less.

“Yes, yes,” he said in less of a rage, trying to control himself. He looked at his hands again as he lowered them.

“There is another way to satisfy the blood hunger.” He took a step towards Nika. How did he move so quickly? He was right up to her face, his hands dropped to his sides, and there was nowhere left to back up. He stared into Nika’s eyes without blinking. The red fire burned in him.

“Take off your clothes. Now.”

She was stunned. “Zachary. . .?” she tried. He did not move.

“Now,” he repeated slowly and deliberately. His tone of voice scared her. His eyes began to glow a more intense red, and his hands began clenching and unclenching again. The muscles in his chest and arms formed in rounded scarlet.

Down to the hem of her t-shirt she reached, pulling upwards, and as she raised the fabric above the level of her chest, exposing her stomach and bra, she heard a strange, inhuman moan. Jesus, she thought, I have a demon lusting after me. As she slipped off her jeans, pulling them across her ass and down her legs, all without trying to lean her body any closer towards Zachary, a voice from a childhood jingle played in her head: Momma always said be careful what you wish for.

She was reduced to just bra and panties, and looked up from the floor to his face again. The red eyes hadn’t dimmed. He was expecting more. He wants everything, she knew. The sense of urgency was clear; if it was blood hunger that she had witnessed with his brother Rory, Nika did not want to see Zachary catch it. There was no time for modesty. She shucked off the rest of her underwear.

He closed his eyes. What was it, a sign of pleasure? Satisfaction that she had stripped naked for him? In any case, it gave her a moment to gather herself. I’m about to get fucked by a demon, was the only thought she could manage. Her mind raced with useless thoughts in the pause while he had his eyes closed. Maybe he was a half-man half-demon. Are Rory and Zachary full brothers or half-brothers, each with a different father? Are they really so old? If I get pregnant am I going to give birth to a quarter-demon son? Will his eyes just glow a little bit when he doesn’t get the toy he wants?

His eyes opened. They showed a human hunger now, for her. Her reprieve was over. In an instant, he moved in and his lips pressed on her mouth. The heat coursed through her body, and her knees went silly weak. His strong hands grasped the sides of her head, and he deepened his kiss. She wanted to kiss him back. This was her dream, wasn’t it? Zachary wanted her. But she didn’t want it here; this must not be done in this basement, next to the death here. So she shoved him as hard as she could, with all of her force, and he disengaged, surprised. Her chest heaved as she looked at him just inches away from her. They locked eyes.

Then he moved in again, and this time she could not resist, she kissed him deeply, feeling the warmth of his lips, probing into his mouth with her tongue. She gave in and let him have her. Her hands ran to the smooth skin of her shoulders and pulled him tight against her naked chest.

This time he pulled back on his own.

She stood naked before him, trembling, returning one hand to cover her breasts in an attempt at modesty, the other across her groin. The unexpected dual feelings of terror and sexual excitement ran through her mind, a juxtaposition that sent her brain to an operating point she had never experienced in her life; she wanted this beautiful man, she wanted to be taken by force, to feel him inside her, but not like this. Not here in this place. Not with her friends and his dead brother just feet away from them and their bodies still warm.

In a surprise, he turned away from her, towards the body of his brother on the floor, and knelt down with his hands moving up to his hair, struggling with his own personal agony. She looked to the stairway in the tunnel only a few feet away, and thought, this is my chance. Maybe he is fighting within himself, the compassionate human part of him winning me this small chance to escape from his inner demon. I should do it now. I need to do it now. Do I have the courage?

She took one small step towards the tunnel opening, then brought her other foot slowly around to take another. With bare feet, she made no sound, and he didn’t seem to take notice. Another step, then another, then the panic rose in her throat and she bolted for the tunnel opening. If she could escape, she would crash naked into the party, but what did that matter now? It would be freedom from this place. Freedom with her life.

She made it to the base of the steps when he caught her. He was so fast, and silent. Strong arms grabbed her around the waist and tackled her, face down on the stairs, and his body pressed down on hers, pushing her shoulders, her breasts, her hips against the cold, hard stone. His head moved in to the base of her neck and his hot breath was like an oven on her sensitive skin.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear. She was pinned so tightly that she couldn’t if she had wanted to. The stone cold of the floor against her naked body should have given her a chill, but the heat emanated from his body wherever he pressed against her skin. Even where there wasn’t skin-to-skin contact, the heat radiated through the open space between them.

His hand touched her back, held there a moment, then moved to brush her hair out of the way. The heat at her neck almost burned her, it was so fresh from his supernatural lungs, but he moved his mouth up and down, and back and forth, slowly, so no one area of her flesh became unbearable. Shivers ran from her upper back down her spine and all the way to her toes. She squeezed her legs tightly together and felt the warming in her groin, and knew she was wet there already with this man pinning her on the stairs.

Then he slid his hand down her back, never lifting it away from her. When he reached her lower back, he shifted his body to expose her ass, holding her firmly, and his hand continued down to caress it. He moved over her curves slowly as if he owned her; she closed her eyes and bit her lip so she wouldn’t make a sound in reaction to the sensation. Where his hand touched, it burned the skin of her ass, but he didn’t stop moving, around and around, and each time he made a pass he went further in between her legs and up her ass crack. probing. She could not resist; her hips began to sway with his powerful touch.

Oh God, she was going to get fucked by this beautiful and dangerous man on the stairs in his dungeon. Part of her brain loved it, another part wanted to scream; but it was such a fucking turn on, his heat, his touch, his dominance over her, and he never stopped blowing the hot air onto her neck, then with a kiss, then a move to the back of her ears. Her hips made full circles now in synchrony with the movement of his hand as it reached all the way down between her legs and into the lips of her pussy on the downstroke, and up across her asshole on the way back up, then around the curve of her ass.

Who was this man; she hated him, but she also wanted him desperately. Were her feelings like the fight in his being between demon and man? In her mind it was a fight between the woman who wanted to escape and live her normal life again, and the woman who wanted to be fucked, hard, right now by this unstoppable, beautiful beast.

His hand moved off of her and she heard the sounds of him fumbling with his trousers.

She made an attempt to wriggle away from him but he had her pinned tightly by the weight of his body and his other arm was wrapped securely around her. Then the hand was back on her ass, rubbing it, opening it. She sucked in her breath. She wanted it; she didn’t want it.

He spread her ass cheeks open and his burning penis pushed into her ass crack. This was it. The heat was unbearable from his demon cock as it found the small opening of her asshole and started to push its way in. Then they began a cycle: he played with her hair up by her neck, twisting it around his fingers, kissing her ears, then he pushed his cock a little further into her ass; she moaned, and shifted her hips in response to adjust to this intrusion, then he would hold still and repeat the cycle, petting her. She had never tried anal sex, and he was so big and burning into her. Hell of a way to learn, she thought grimly, and she sucked in her breath as he pushed in further. She tried hard to relax to take all of him in, because she knew he wasn’t stopping and it would be worse if she fought it.

She was sweating, panting, on the stairs, in his grasp, when finally he stopped pushing. The demon cock was fully inside her, her entire lower body was baked with the heat. Without pulling his cock out, he shifted his position to wrap strong hands around her torso, and lifted her up off the stairs. She was flying, still pegged by his cock at his waist, but suspended in front of him with her legs wrapped around behind. This demon had her stuck in the ass with his huge burning cock, and was going to wheel her around.

But she didn’t want to see any of the room and be reminded of what had taken place only moments earlier. Fortunately, he swung her around facing only the walls of the room and towards the fireplace on the other side, which was now burning brightly with a huge fire—when did that happen? She had no time to wonder as her body was slammed against the mantle above it. Her hands flew out to brace her fall, and she found herself framed face down, naked, between this demon in her ass and her hands on the mantle, her entire front hanging over and being roasted by the heat of a roaring fire. Her feet didn’t even touch the ground; they were still wrapped around the back of his legs. God, it was hot. Her breasts hung down to the fire and her nipples burned.

And then he pushed into her. He pushed hard, grinding her pelvis against him with his strong hold. Where did he get this strength? The sweat poured from her brow down onto the fire and her small breasts bounced back and forth as he pounded deeper into her asshole, again and again. She began to feel lightheaded and was afraid she would lose her hold on the mantle and slip into the fire, but at the last moment before she lost her grip he flung her back around to the table, flipping her over on her back. He pulled out of her ass and moved to her face.

She had no time to breath, for his burning dick was thrust into her mouth, pushing deep. She gagged, tasting the sweetness of his dick as it slid past her tongue and into the back of her mouth. She wondered, is that the taste of demon cock or is that my own ass? But he pushed again and again into her throat and all she could do was try to catch a breath around the edges.

Then he was out of her, and made a great howl. It was a sound she had never heard before, and didn’t know was possible to make. All over her chest suddenly there was an intense burning. He spurted great quantities of white cum out of his cock and onto her breasts. She moved her hand out to it, and still it came, in pulses, covering her fingers; but they sent a signal to her brain that it was not a burning temperature, but rather a sharply cold one, which was the truth once she focused her mind on her senses. With the shock of the temperature difference, and the surround heat of his body, her sensitive breasts had misread the extreme cold as a burn. It was demon cum. As ice cold as a stream of mountain lake water. She remembered a legend about that.

Before the cold of his ejaculate could seep into her, he spun her around on the table and exploded with hot breath between her legs. He was on her pussy now, pushing into it with his tongue. It was incredible, the sensation of him on the inside and outside of her clitoris at the same time, inside her pushing up and outside pushing down. Did he have some crazy forked tongue? He was a demon. She almost laughed in a craze then. Who or what the hell was fucking her? But as he pushed harder the waves of sexual pleasure came over her, and her urge to laugh subsided; she moaned. Oh God, there was nothing to stop this. Her entire body was burning, and her groin exploded in a climax, shaking her torso under his hold. She had never felt anything close to this.

Then she passed out.

Time passed. When she woke, it could have been an hour or a day that she had been sleeping; the past and the present seemed to be from completely different timelines. All around her were layers of blankets and pillows; she was nestled in a plush four-poster bed, in a quiet room, and guessed that this must still be the Fraser house, and that she was upstairs. The room was beautifully decorated, in a haunting, old fashioned way.

She craned her head at the creaking of footsteps in the hallway, and sat up in bed. The door opened.

“Ah, there ye are, awake,” said the familiar gentle voice of Una. Her face didn’t have the light joy of the previous night; she looked friendly, still, but there was a deep sadness and tiredness in her eyes as she came up beside Nika’s bed. There was redness too, but it was normal human redness from crying all night, not anything to do with a demon, Nika could tell. Demons! she remembered suddenly, and that popped her fully awake. A middle-aged hand reached down onto the creamy young skin of Nika’s arm and pressed into her gently. “The professor wants to have a word with you, lass, then we’ll see about gettin’ you home, if you have the energy for it.”

Nika nodded. Una left her alone in the room, and she blinked and shook her head in an attempt to bring the memories into focus.

What had happened last night? Was it a dream? Something about the party, and dark forces, and finding the secret passageway. Then it all rushed back. Misty! Ostin! The demon surprising them in that basement room and slaying them both. Then Zachary! Oh, Zachary; she put her hand down to her belly under the covers and slipped it between her legs. She remembered everything. Zachary had saved her from his brother last night, but then had his way with her. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine his face, the way he stared at her, his look of domination, ownership, rapture.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Excuse me, Nika, is it? I am Professor Fraser.” He looked down at her, waiting for a reaction. “From the University. This is my house, where we held the party last night.”

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. She was at a loss for words. What next? What do I say to this man, and how do I start my life again after this, she wondered.

He remained quiet, looking at her. Then he strode to the window. The tension showed. It seemed he wanted to be very careful in the words he chose next.

“Nika, there were happenings here last night. I know the details. Zachary told me everything.”

“Zachary?” she said, with more emotion than she intended.

“Yes, my son. He is okay. He is . . . he is himself this morning, if you understand me.” She nodded. The demon part of him was gone, or at least suspended, for now. “However, he didn’t feel that he could meet with you today. Una will walk you home when you feel ready.”

Nika raised her eyebrows but said nothing. So this was it? I just walk back to school, and we all pretend nothing happened? My friends were murdered last night and we pretend it was nothing? They just met with an unfortunate accident? Your one son was a raving crazy man and killed my friends and your other son raped me? And we say that nothing happened?

“I’d. . . we’d like you to go home and think carefully about your visit here. I am very sorry for our part in your suffering. There have been prices paid, on both sides.” Both sides of what, Nika thought. Hosts and partygoers? Frasers and students? Humans and demons?

He continued, “There is nothing that all of us can do now, except to go on with our lives. Zachary has taken care of the details. As for your experience . . . I believe that you arrived with your friends here at my house about ten o’clock, drank too much, and Una settled you into the bed here in the late hours when she thought you weren’t able to walk home. And you woke just now and returned home. You know nothing else. That is what happened. Do you agree?”

Nika was silent as she absorbed this. She could go to the police, but what would she say. What could she say that they would believe? Demons in Edinburgh are real after all? It’s not just a ghost tour, there are real ghosts and spirits here, and they killed my friends in a fucking dungeon under the city? That we were fucking around jacking off a horny French guy with a huge dick and we shot cum all over their collectibles, and we pissed off a demon who killed two of us? And very nearly killed me as well, she reflected.

They had been trespassing. Rory had died, Nika was sure, and the old man had paid a price already. Zachary had saved her, and then attacked her. But that man-demon was so beautiful, and she had never dreamed of sexual arousal that intense as when he took her with his power. Did she want the police to accuse him of a crime and drag him in for questioning? Did she want him locked up? She didn’t know. But she decided she didn’t want to go to the police now, and she would at least go along with the plan until she could think it over more thoroughly.

“Yes, I agree,” she said. He looked at her carefully, and moved to the door.

“Professor,” she added, watching the sorrow in his figure. He turned to listen. “I am sorry, for last night. I am sorry for our part in what happened, and for your loss.”

He nodded gravely, turned, and left the room. She dressed and when Una returned they started for the University together. At the South Bridge Una bade farewell to the young woman. Nika continued alone up the hill towards her dormitory.

“Nika!” a voice came from behind her, and she knew immediately who uttered it. Her heart stopped, but she pretended not to hear, continuing on, but when he repeated the call she flew around and faced him. There he was, Zachary the human, dressed in a formal long coat and hat pulled tight around him. He was as dashing as she remembered. Her heart was ready to explode in her chest, in reaction to this man who had made himself such a large part of her life so quickly.

“You are all right?” he asked, concern showing on his face. She nodded, and gulped.

“I am so so sorry about your friends.” He paused. His eyes were moist with tears. “And about . . . well, of course, what happened afterwards. I will need time to explain all of that to you. If you want to hear the full explanation, I mean. There is a lot to tell, a lot of family history. I will also understand if you want to walk away from this and never hear from me again. I will obey your wishes.”

She looked deep into his eyes. There was no red light showing there today, only his haunting beauty. A sad, young, but ageless beauty, longing for love.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes. I want to hear your story.”

THE END