I’m Demon’s Son

Air grew thick in the temple, its very oppressiveness suffocating all there. The smoke was black; it twisted, coiled upon itself, into a towering form with glowing, crimson eyes peering through the darkness. His voice was thunderous, heavy, and rumbled through temple walls. So, you've finally arrived," he growled, his malice and dark amusement dripping like honey from a vial.

The minister stepped forward, her face icy and determined. Triumph flickered in her eyes as she gestured toward her quivering daughter. "This is my daughter," she declared coldly, her voice devoid of maternal warmth. "You can do whatever you wish with her."

Aoi's breath hitched, and tears streamed down her face as the meaning of her mother's words sank in. "No! Mother, please!" she cried, desperation thick in her voice. But her mother merely smirked, stepping back with an air of cruel satisfaction.

The demon's smoky form surged forward, its tendrils slithering toward Aoi like living shadows. She stumbled backward, but the cold stone of the altar stopped her escape. Before she could even scream, the smoke enveloped her completely, curling around her body and sinking into her skin like a suffocating shroud.

Aoi gasped, her hands clawing at the air as the smoke tightened around her, constricting her movements. A deep, otherworldly chill seeped into her very being, and her vision blurred. The demon's voice echoed in her mind, intimate and invasive. "You are mine now," it hissed, its tone both a command and a claim.

Aoi struggled, her heart pounding in terror. "No! Leave me alone!" she shouted, her voice muffled by the oppressive smoke. Her body convulsed as she fought against the force invading her, but her strength was no match for the demon's overwhelming power.

The minister watched, her arms crossed, a cold smile creeping over her lips as if she admired her handiwork. Around her the temple servants bowed low, their faces hidden in the shadows as they silently revere the dark ritual.

The demon's form began to coalesce, smoke compressing into a shape that could be felt around Aoi. She was pushed to her knees before the altar, her body shaking with the weight of the demon's presence. The crimson eyes of the entity flared brighter as it let out a guttural laugh, reveling in her terror.

"She is perfect," the demon declared, turning to address the minister. "Your offering is accepted."'

The demon's wicked smile was even wider, in her voice dripping with pride: "I knew you'd be pleased. Now, fulfillment of your part of the bargain."

The demon's gaze turned to the minister, his eyes narrowing. "Do not presume to command me," he growled, a threatening edge to his tone. "Your desires will be met in due time."

Aoi, still trapped and gasping for breath, looked up at her mother, her eyes pleading. "Mother, please. don't do this. " she whispered, her voice weak and broken.

But the minister did not falter. Her cold demeanor remained as unyielding as stone, her gaze fixed firmly on the demon. Aoi's pleas were swallowed by the oppressive darkness of the temple, and the storm outside raged on, mirroring the chaos within.

With a swift, almost tender motion, the demon's tongue slithered out, brushing against her skin. The contact was like a glacier against bare flesh—sharp and painful. Aoi's body recoiled, but the demon's grip held her fast. She could feel the creature's power surging into her, a tide of cold malice that sought to claim her very essence.

The demon's mouth closed over one of her nipples, its frost-like teeth piercing through the sensitive skin. Aoi screamed, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls of the temple. The pain was searing, as if her very soul was being ripped from her body.

Its smoke-like form shaped into a monstrous phallus that stood proud and terrifying before her. The creature's hips lunged forward, the cold appendage pressing against her thighs. Aoi's eyes grew wide with horror.

"Your mother offered you as a vessel for my power," the demon whispered into her mind, its voice now a seductive purr. "And a vessel I shall use you as."

The body of Aoi was a battleground of pain as the demon sucked greedily at her nipple. Her breaths grew ragged and shallow as the creature's power surged through her veins, turning her very blood to ice.

The demon's phallic form increased in size as the thorns dug into her soft flesh with every thrust against her. Her scream shook the walls of the entire temple.

_____________________________

The temple fell silent. The storm outside subsided as if the heavens themselves had submitted to the darkness. Only the faint crackle of dying flames remained, hesitant and fleeting, like a final protest against the demon's presence.

From the shadows stepped the servants hooded, their faces concealed in black veils. In perfect synchrony, they marched forward, their humility unmistakable. They reached the altar where Aoi lay, her bloodied bridal gown soaked to her brittle body.

The two servants bore her gently, handling her with precision yet firmness. The huge temple doors creaked open to let out the bitter wind that clawed at her lifeless body, but it did not stir.

The minister's carriage waited in the dark, its windows glinting like eyes under the pale moonlight. Inside, the minister sat, her back straight, her expression serene. Her gaze was fixed ahead, but her mind calculated every detail. When the servants placed Aoi across the velvet seats, she didn't glance down. She didn't need to.

The doors thudded shut with a resonant crash. With a signal, the carriage lurched forward, its wheels grinding against the uneven road. The temple receded behind them, its grotesque idols standing as silent witnesses.

In the distance, the wind carried a faint echo of laughter—low, cruel, and unrelenting. The sacrifice was only the beginning.