The Virgin – 2

She materialized in their cave and started to cry. Why did they always end up arguing? They had been happily blood bounded for 5000 years but the last two hundreds had been plain painful, even for a demon. Marriage counsellors were at loss of words all over hell. The couple consulted more then half of them over time and now, the other half was too scared to help. That’s what happens when lover’s spats end up using the arbiter as a sacrificial scapegoat. At least the death of the inefficient psychiatrists had helped for a little while; there’s nothing like a blood orgy to kiss and make up. It never lasted long enough though.
A whiff of smoke from one of the torture pits nearby caught her by the throat. Literally. Suffering had a way to forge a will of its own down here. She couldn’t breath. Her knees gave up and she fell to the floor. As if she needed that kind of troubles on top of everything else! She focused her rage in an icy sting that prolonged her index and pricked the dense smoke with it. It tore up and her lungs filled with hot air.
Satan, she hated this place! That poor excuse for a house was nothing compared to where they used to live. How they had fallen in the food chain! This slum barely had running lava and the neighbours where way too close. She sat back on her heels and cried some more. If she wasn’t so low on souls she’d break some stuff but she could afford the repairs.
On the shelf of the opposite wall were pictures of the good times. Even demons didn’t have the heart to keep souvenir of bad times.
They had met in Soul Seduction 101. They were lab partners and tested their charms on one another for a whole year. It became a resolve contest but he had finally flinched and asked her out. The first photo showed them smiling and young on prom night.
The second picture was the best of their blood binding day photo shoot. She was wearing a red lace dress that brought out her wings. He sported a black leather tuxedo. She held her bouquet of babies-last-breath and he had shinning sinners cufflinks. Every unbound demon had envied them which had fuelled the all day party until sloth overcame the last guests.
Then had come times of gluttony and greed. The times when no lily-white wings angels saw fit to police demons. The times when helpless virgins could be snatched straight out of their mother’s womb.
She sighed. It had been easy to climb up the ladder. They were eager and fresh out of school. Just by hunting around the clock, they made their place in the hierarchy.
Alas, when talks of Jesus started, the whole equilibrium of the underworld had shifted. The legendary fight between Angel Adam and Succubus Lilith brought forth the angel police to keep a lid on the demons. A legal age was instituted and snatching virgins under that age was punishable by sanctification. Most of the old school demons saw the light in the first decades of the new law but the couple adapted.
Eventually, the Christian regiment and the legal age made hunting more interesting. No sex before marriage kept preys pure until they were ripe. It also created prized souls: nuns, priests and the likes. That’s what they both had specialized in. The last picture showed them, proudly displaying the first Pope they had brought into the dark folds of the pleasures of flesh. Now, that was big game.
Unfortunately, the mores shifted over time and it became harder and harder to find legal virgins. It put a mild strain of their blood bound but they would have worked it out… if he hadn’t started cheating.
Not the human version of cheating of course: incubi’s and succubi’s work is about having sex with strangers. That wasn’t a problem. The problem came when a certain incubus called out a virgin’s name while going at it with his blood bounded half.
After that, they hadn’t worked together so well and their performance suffered. They didn’t bring enough soul back and lost their home which increased stress and so on and so forth.
She missed the old times. Nowadays, they were fighting when they were working and the routine at home was killing them hardly. Five thousand years together does that to a couple. At least, she hadn’t gain weight.
She stood up and brushed the remaining smoke off her satin dress. She walked to the mirror to check herself out. Her leathery wings were still supple and so was the rest of her body. She had a good ten millennium left to live. If she manoeuvred the divorce right, she could build a new reputation of cruelty on it. With the souls her husband would be forced to give her, she’d buy herself a small grotto in a respectable neighbourhood. Combined, the reputation and the new home could lend her a highly ranked lover. From there, it was highway back to past glory.
She wasn’t angel food, yet!

(Originally posted on the Writeaholic’s Blog)

  1. Tiffany
    February 22, 2010 at 11:09 pm

    This is a funny story Aheila. A couple of my favorite lines:

    “That’s what happens when lover’s spats end up using the arbiter as a sacrificial scapegoat.”

    “…she held her bouquet of babies-last-breath”

    • February 23, 2010 at 7:12 am

      Thanks Tiffany! 😉
      I think the babies-last-breath is my favorite too!

  2. Jenn
    February 22, 2010 at 11:34 am

    Oh wow, Aheila,

    I’m loving this story…you have put a lot of time & effort into developing your character’s history & the enviroment that they live in. I would love to hear more about their world: are they born in hell or are they stolen? are they fallen angels? My mind is going a mile a minute…Can’t wait for hte next installment!

    • February 22, 2010 at 7:46 pm

      Thanks Jenn!
      Wow! What a wonderful comment! This is actually one of the stories I spent the shortest time on. It comes to me so naturally, I wonder what that means… ok, may be I shouldn’t look into it, I might not like what I find.

      Part 3 is already on my blog (where I post everything a few days before I copy it here) and part 4 will be up tomorrow.

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