Leviathan’s Chambers

Enough of distant random memories. This was a time to focus.

A shirtless eager Leviathan observed Samira’s body. The blood underneath her skin craved to break through, traces left by his tail. Delirious, the girl begged for more of his touch. Where her blood did pour out, he was quick to heal and then seal it with his tongue, as though she was a kind of melting ice-cream. Everywhere he touched, everywhere the tail impressed, she squirmed with indescribable ecstasy. Leviathan hungered for more. There was little else that gave him such immense pleasure.

On the floor, the other two girls pressed themselves against his legs, imploring for his attention. He reached for the wall where his selection of toys hung. As his hand hovered over them, he asked: ‘How are we feeling tonight, Misty? Diana? Which one shall we go for? The Happy Paddle or the Stingy Rod?’

The girls moaned, begged, and he chuckled. It wasn’t like he cared to know.

‘Happy Paddle it is. Good choice.’ — He said, reaching for the red leather paddle. He flexed it, appreciating its thickness. — ‘It’s been a while since we’ve used this one, hasn’t it?’

He lashed once, twice, until he heard the crazed muffled scream mixed with pain and pleasure. Tears rolled down Misty’s eyes and her skin burned red, but she held her position, waiting for more. Diana had had enough, moving herself on him, attempting a clumsy embrace with her bound hands, but he shifted away effortlessly.

‘Hold on now, I’m getting to you.’

He lashed at her thighs until the girl cried and finally recoiled. ‘Too hard? Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry. I forget you are still quite sensitive.’ He said, removing the girl’s gag, and moved in to kiss her softly. She welcomed him. Tentatively at first, then as though the taste of him triggered a new found addiction, she eagerly looped her arms around his neck, and pulled tightly. It was as though his kiss was the only thing that could soothe her pain. He grinned between her lips.

His tail busied itself with circling Samira’s legs. Only small bites were allowed for now, he made sure he kept a tight grip on it. Then it crawled down to Misty on the floor, making the girl tremble while it savoured her new blood.

Whilst he savoured Diana’s lips (or she his), he didn’t forget to heal either, constantly summoning the white for their marks. Not out of kindness; they would just last much longer this way. It never ceased to amaze him that even in that, these souls found pleasure. Was there anything better than this?

A crashing noise came from the front room.

Who would be so stupid to interrupt right now? Surely no one with love for their own after-life.

‘Tsk. Who’s there?!’

Silence.

He was about to resume his kiss, when another loud thump followed. This time, there was a whimper too.

‘Damn it!’ He snapped and pushed Diana aside as if she were a messy blanket, and made his way to the front room.

A grey servant girl with dark skin, was on the floor. She had stepped on the pieces of glass he had shattered earlier. There hardly any blood as most of the pieces appeared to have been caught on her sandal, but before he could fully explode, his eyes caught hers.

That’s not right… A grey servant was a dead thing, with no sense of self. So why was this one looking right at him, and… in pain?

Her eyes… they were throbbing with it. Tears?

The girl caught herself, trying to move like the slaves. A poor attempt. Her agony was still clear to see. She quickly removed the glass from her foot.

‘What are you doing here? What are you?’ He asked.

She remained quiet, but she understood him, he could tell. Her breathing was all over the place, though she tried hard to contain it, and her quick glances at him, at the door, only showed her nervousness. She was trying to think fast. All oddities that just didn’t match. It was impossible for grey slaves to maintain eye contact with anyone, most didn’t even have use for their eyes anymore, let alone a functioning brain!

He probed but couldn’t see her soul. He tried to read her mind, but nothing there too. Just who the hell was she?

She moved quickly then, quicker than he thought possible considering her injury. She picked up her tray, and limping, she bolted through the double-doors. He jerked for a split second, ready to give chase, it was tempting enough, but then his legs kept him in place. Right then he couldn’t tell why, but something just didn’t fit.

‘Master, where are you?’ Samira called from the back room.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he stood there, assimilating. It had been a long while since something puzzled him this much. It was the most characteristic thing in Hell since his father became ruler: grey servants were soulless things; they did not know pain, or have awareness of any kind, only the grey commands sustained them. They didn’t have, couldn’t have, tears or hurt; and Leviathan knew what hurt looked like, all too well.

Was she a spy? A demon agent, sent from backstabbing nobles?

Not likely. Those terrified eyes did not belong to any enemy he’d come across before.

He smiled and brushed his hand over his hair, pulling it back.

Whatever she was, a slave was far from it, though she was trying hard to pass herself for one. For what purpose? What was she? How was she walking around unnoticed, and for how long? And why was her soul so well hidden? Was she one of those they said could resist the colours?

It didn’t matter. Her eyes said it all.

One thing at least became clear: He wanted them.

That fear, that intensity, that abundance and craving for life... it was too tempting to ignore.

He imagined her eyes pleading with, and eventually beg for him, her skin sweating and shivering with craving as he tied her up. What would her eyes look like then, he wondered. The newness of it excited him. When was the last time he felt this stirred up?

Let her run for now, she won’t go very far, he chuckled to himself. Befitting his princely duties, of course he’d find her and give her a proper welcome. This was Hell after all, the perfect place for lost souls. And even lost kittens like her needed proper guidance.

Making his way back to his girls, he said:

‘Sorry to have kept you waiting, my darlings! Samira, let’s take the blindfold off. I’m suddenly in the mood for some tears.’

END of Season 1