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13 LITTLE PILL (M/F dark vore-romance) PUBLICA dark, violent romance blossoms between a female pill addict, and a violent, demonic "man." A group of well-meaning women, The Skeptics, try to help. But one of them is not being honest; not entirely, and it could risk pulling all of them into an unwitting bloodbath. 13Book of GiantsEpilogue Swallow Me, Like Your Little PillPart Two: Glass BallerinaA female pill addict fails to vainly outwit, outlast, outsex a violent demonic "monster." Because he prefers his pills lady-shaped.This is a visceral dark-erotica novel that goes way beyond the vampire bite.Part Two: Glass BallerinaWarning/Promise: obliquely mentioned vorarephilia, macrophilia; emotionally intensive; kink; dark; psychological carousel; lore crafting; story crafting; suspense; horrorSee no evil – Japanese ProverbTHE TRAINHeather sat back bodily in her seat, torn open like a bag of grain. Inertia swam above her, through her, in her like a languid tide.extraordinary tides of vast extentDaniel’s cell phone grated against the blue tray in an abrupt angry tremor.Heather jerked. Simultaneous to this: her cell phone vibrated. Once, twice. Again. It dissolved into a fitful spasm. She could feel his intent, his ire. Every tremolo carried the intensity of its master. She need not look at it to know. And he was intense. She could, even now, slowly climbing out of her mental-fog, envision his digital portrait: the un-smile; the cold eyes; the feral head-tilt; the almost glacial crack heard in the shiny veneer of human he kept about himself. Because, if not before, then certainly now, it was cracking under the abrasive thrust of the circumstances, as though shattering under the wheels of the barreling train. He’s home in 3 days. That sad, languid feeling rose in the back of her throat again.It was a long time before either woman spoke. The shush shush shush of the train pounded in their ears like a slow-seeping arterial hiss.Heather insinuated her voice into the silence, she couldn’t bear it any longer. "It - I ... I’m sorry. There’s a lot t-to unpack here.”Nita bowed her head as though in great reverence or great solemnity. “I’m sorry you had to see some of that. It can’t be easy.”A crazed laugh unzippered from Heather. “I – just… I don’t even notice, y’know? I’m so used to him talking like that, that I didn’t even think about it. Yeah, there were some big, big reveals in that for me – he was married? – but threatening to kill someone? Threatening to kill a whole lot of someones? That’s what Danny does. That’s just a Tuesday.”“That is a form of abuse, you know. Being made to hear that kind of language, that kind of rancor. And to be made accustomed to it.”Heather shrugged animatedly; her hands clapped down to her sides. She refused to believe she was a battered woman. “But, you’re not wrong. Th-there’s a lot of… ‘rancor’ there, as you say. But a lot of what he says is swimming to the surface and it’s forming a Venn diagram.”Nita sat up; intrigued. "What do you mean?""Like... there's a lot of similarities between what he's said to you, and what he's said to me.""Agreed,” Nita said curtly.Heather reached for Danny’s cell phone; picked it up; put it down. Drummed her fingers against it. It was an almost instinctive need to – to what? To peel through layers of his privacy finger stroke by finger stroke, to slowly reveal – to reveal what exactly? Heather’s eyes unfocused as she moved down a mental corridor; something teased at the underside of her brain, something –She gasped. "He's an apricot,""Excuse me – what?""I'm sorry... my brain is so jumbled up, knowing what I'm gonna say next that it just…Ok, see. When I was growing up. I read. A lot. Like, a lot. My dad was an absent dad. My mom had her own problems. He was a marine or a special operator, or something. He was never home. But when he was, he taught me fighting, tactical training stuff, knife technique, gun technique, that’s why I know my way around a firearm. And probably why I’ve lasted his long. Anyways, I read a lot of books. And, I mean, a lot. I know a lot of fable and lore, and even stories that stretch across continents, ok?And… the more I think about it — because like you — I have noticed that he never says it," Heather said in hushed reverence. And, continuing, she pointed at the text message for illustrative purposes.,"And something has been bothering me a long time now. A long, long time. And I couldn't put my finger on it, that is, until now. Until I saw your texts with him: it all came crashing down on me. He doesn’t say it. He never says it."Heather took a big breath.And with the backdrop of the thrumming train, the only sound that broke through was the wet click of Heather's mouth opening."Nita… what if Danny isn't a demon?" Nita's eyes widened."And he also — —says the lord's name in vain." "A lot, right?" "You noticed.""I mean... ok. Let's do this mental masturbation together. Does it change how he contracts? D-does it change the Knot?" "It would change a lot of things, yes,” Nita responded softly."I – just – I mean. I don't think you could understand until you've had happen to you what's happened to me. When I was standing on his hand when he held me, I looked into his eyes. And it was like... it was — it didn't feel evil, yanno? It felt like something almost… romantic. Something almost; he had a word for it. When we were talking about something once, I think it was when we were discussing the symbols.” Inspired, she flicked free her cell phone. She lobbed it onto the table between and, with a scrabbly push of her nails, rotated the screen so it – in wonderful symmetry - faced Nita this time. “It – here, look. I took photos of some labels on some wine he has. I called them symbols; he called me crazy.”“More gaslighting.”“Right, except he had a name for them. I don’t think he was gaslighting me, Nita. I think he genuinely didn’t see them as symbols. Because he texted them to me when we were joshing around. Gosh, I wish I could remember what he called them.” After a momentary lapse, Heather roused, dragging her fingers down the cell phone screen, which necessarily scrolled sedately through the text messages, until – “See, here! Look! These are the symbols. And they’re encoded in the Android keyboard, so they can’t be made-up or, or esoteric, or whatever. Look.” Heather tapped her nail on the empty margin next to the message.,Nita’s eyes flicked in habituation, reading, then she suddenly sat up as though suddenly rousing: “Wait.” She elegantly swept the cell phone from Heather’s hand. She bent over and examined the photograph. “These are Cyrillic,” she blurted. “They are – oh.” Nita’s eyes flicked up, and met Heather’s with great silent import. “Daniel. He just texted you. He knows we unlocked his phone.”Heather looked out the window; back. The kinetics required of this movement kindled a sudden white flash through her visual field; floaters streaked across her eyes like celestial dust. Her eyes had never been quite the same since he had rattled her around inside the jar; her forehead had struck the wall violently before her unceremonious ejection. Willing back the cohesion of her gaze, Heather rubbed her temple.A cold, insensate sensation whisked through her. She could feel the chill move through the fine, articulated pieces of her spine. He’s home in 3 days.Flick flick away, evil spirit Nita’s hand gesture said as she gestured away another one of Daniel’s text messages. Heather wished she could get rid of him just as fantastically; just as easily. Because she knew, at the terminus of these events, he was waiting for her; for their happy reunion that would bring with it more – much more – than a finger flick. Heather had a stark flash of intrusive fantasy, envisioning that she’d dangle from his cruel finger, before he – She winced, closing her eyes. Their “lover’s” reunion would now be inalienably pockmarked by the unforgivable transgression of wrenching open his cell phone – and meeting with the woman that brokered the remote privilege to murder him by proxy. Just a Tuesday, Heather’s brain mocked.“This is Hellenic.”“Yes! That’s the word! That’s what he said!”Nita folded down on herself; she looked like a dark study, but she said nothing."And when you texted about the Knot of Iliad it, like, bust my brain open. Iliad, right? Like Homer's Odyssey? Like the Greek Epic? And, then, I remembered – oh shit – that Danny is Cypriot." Nita studied Heather."Which is why I call him apricot, sometimes. It's a play-on word. And because I say it so often it's become a reflex, so I never thought about it much. But, now, I thought about it, really thought about it. Cypriot. Yeah: he's Cypriot. And... and... I think. Shit, I'm gonna sound crazy, but somehow this is gonna be the least crazy thing to come out of my mouth.Nita. Cypriot is... do you know what Cypriot is?" "I think I recognize the root word; but tell me anyway," she said softly, simply."It... it means you're from Cyprus. "Heather started playing with her fingers. "And do you know who else is from Cyprus?" Nita raked a hand back through her hair. "Yes; of course - I –"Right? I don't even want to say it 'cause this goes next level. This goes to 'hold-the-phone-fucking-crazy’ level. But, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. He kinda advertises it, right? He surrounds himself with nice cars, luxuries, libations, because he's a trickst— he." Heather, feeling the edges of her vision fog, clutched the tray. Tossing her head, to free the stagnation of her thoughts – she jumped. Danny’s cell phone vibrated. With a paranoid prickle she gently flipped it over, onto its screen, to hide its glaring digital eye. "Help me out here. Maybe you can walk me back from this ledge. Do non-demons make contracts, too?"Nita, carefully: "Yes. A malefic that's a high rank. Anything high rank can make a spiritual contract." "And they're bound to it?""Yes. It is governed by The Laws." "Danny is a high rank ma - mal - what did you call him?" "A malefic." Nita smiled shallowly, but it was not unkind. "He is a maleficus, which is Latin for something destructive; he brings destruction through otherworldly means. When in mixed company I use the word 'demon' because it is easy and accessible. But, a demon is not what the layman conjures. They are not snaggle-tooth monsters that go bump in the night. No; their monstrosity is on the inside. They are politicians, surgeons, lawyers," after a beat, "CEOs."Heather’s eyes ticked to the side. Another flash arced through her visual field. Alarmed, she grabbed her head, but Nita was speaking.“Daniel is… very powerful. It pains me to say this. But he is very.” She half-turned her head as though in a tincture of shame. “He is potent. There are multiple lineages, and classifications, and of all the types and sub-types: he is from the lineage of potent malefics. Because they do not, after centuries of dilution, normally have his abilities. They have moral issues, yes, such as embezzlement, cheating, adultery, murder even - but none so avant-garde as to - to ... consume voraciously, as he does." The two women held eyes.Nita looked away first. And with great reluctance, in the tone of someone trying to overcome the limitations of their own belief system: “Even now I… I struggle to believe that he has this… this power of diminishment. But you two speak of it so candidly, and earnestly.”Heather frowned. This invalidated her. This made clean her existence, it wiped her away. “Wait a sec –“But, after reading your text messages – and mine – I am forced to stand at a cross roads, here. And neither outcome is pleasant. Either a great folie a deux is happening here, or he can actually do this. And I don’t like either of those options.”“Folie a deux: madness shared by two,” Heather said softly.“You know what it means!”“Yeah; told you I was smart.”“Well, then, I guess this is a folie a trois, because what I’m going to say next is equally insane: I believe you.”The sad, languid feeling at the back of Heather’s throat moved upward, inducing a sudden wrinkle of sensation. A deep, wounded ache – one she was not even aware she was holding onto – moved through her body with tactility; it left her in a choked-off sob. Straining against this epiphany – that she was validated, that she was seen, that she was heard – Heather clutched her mouth with bruisingly-white fingers. She heaved a sound; another, and another yet, and started crying.Nita reached across the aisle, and looped her arms around the crying woman. “I believe you. I do.”Heather shook until her shaking became a tremble, and her tremble became a rocking, and her rocking became graduated stillness. She nodded her head against The Priestess’s shoulder. “thank you.”Nita gently extricated herself. “But, I want us to return to your earlier metaphor. I want to talk about the Venn Diagram again. I want to look at commonalities, because something I said earlier evoked a thought in me.”“… which is?” Heather’s voice cracked as though tired and old with disuse."Dilution: as I said it aloud, it sounded like diluvial." She held up Heather's phone, brandishing it; she tapped the text message in question. "Which reminded me of this text message. See: he said diluvian in this crass message about farmgirl defilement. Naturally." ,Heather nodded simply. "Yeah, and I looked it up." "And I do not like it. I do not like it at all." Nita’s tone pulled on that small languishing, meadowed instinct inside of Heather. "Why?" "It puts him in a very small stricture of time and place. Which means he is a very unique breed of vermin; of demon.”Heather could feel something other; something ancient creaking through the seams of their conversation. Danny’s cell phone abruptly made a tremor so carnivorous, so reminiscent of teeth gnashing that it struck itself off the tray. Heather stared at it in muted fear; she would have sworn, in that moment, that it had, somehow, vibrated louder. And worse: the gain in volume had almost carried a disembodied anger.“Turn it off.” Heather blurted. “Turn it off!” With great leaping voice and body Heather surged forward; grabbed Danny’s cell phone; stabbed its screen, and powered it down. “He might have had the microphone on.”Nita’s eyes were downcast when next she spoke: “That doesn’t even matter. If he wanted, he could spy.”“Like some kind of murder wizard?!”Nita pursed her lips. “He would refract off of me; I’m a natural conduit. But… I am well guarded. He can’t pry. On me, at least.”Heather sucked down a sound.In response, Nita struck up a hand. "As evidenced just now, you are not well-practiced in this. The occult. I do not want to come across as the insufferable know-it-all, but this is new to you. So, while, I appreciate your observations — "OBSERVATIONS?!" Heather crowed. "Dude, lady. This is beyond observations. I lived this, ok? He's... like. I don't think he's a demon. Even if he can psychic-spy or whatever by tuning into your brain-farts. I don’t think he is a demon in the way you think he is.” Heather began again, in that hushed reverence. "I think –Nita cut across: "No; listen to me, now. I will explain why if he is familiar with - or, even, God help us – has existed during a diluvial time, how fucking dangerous this. So, you need to shut up and listen." Heather clapped shut. Nita, continuing, "See, I agree with you. I don't think he is a classical demon. At least not as purported in the Old Testament texts. You see, his oral fixation. It is very specific. It shapes him. And he shapes it. And, it evoked in me, a thought."Priestess held out a hand in placation. "I don't want you to misunderstand. All of this, all of it is helpful. It helped. I owe you an apology. I was so resistant to what you had to say when speaking of his Hellenic lineage because," Nita took a deep breath, "It – I hate entertaining the possibility, no matter how remote, that he is antediluvian.”“Why?”There was that word again. Heather leaned forward. Nita traced her finger around the rim of the teacup. "Knowing that he is Hellenic, that helps me categorize what type of malefic he is. Because there is," she lined up the tray, and bracketed it by two forks, creating topography, "There is a very narrow stricture of ancient time and an equally narrow stricture of land that was host for these very unique malefics. These Hellenic Sheol.""Sheol?" "Hebraic for land of departed; dead. Or, those that rise from its depths, like Tartarus. It is Sephardic. We have a word, a precise word, for what exactly Daniel is. It has some… complexities to it. But it serves."Heather’s ear drum started pounding like a disembodied heart. "Which is? So he is a Greek God? Or Greek Demon? Because that's what I was gonna say...""Yes; no. Now, listen – Heather, blurting: "H-he's a Greek Deity. He's a fucking trickster God that's role-playing as a demon, because you gave him the idea 6 fucking years ago." Nita's eyebrows flicked up in alarm. "No; yes, but listen."Heather, inelegantly. "Maybe he's the – well – the Greek Deities were all metaphors for something, right? They represented a concept or-or a belief system. Maybe he's like the avatar of eating or hunger, or-or predation, or fetish or.” Heather, off of a surge of inspiration: “Nita, are Greek Gods malefics, too?""Technically: yes. Anything not derived from the lineage of Adam is, well, demonic." Nita looked at her shrewdly. "The Greek Gods were pagan. They were in the eyes of Christian belief systems: demons. I don't hold that belief, necessarily, but, in that sense, they weren't malum in se - inherently evil — they were simply Godless." Her eyes held Heather's in silent meaning. “Just as your Daniel. See, in Hebraic lore, we do not necessarily assign good or evil to 'demons.'"Heather, craftily, "We?" Nita, with some laughter: "As I said I am Sephardic. I am Jewish." "HA. That is... wow. That ... that is a serious plot twist in my brain. But why then call yourself Priestess?”"Well, Rabbi of Gemini, or Rabbinical Revelation didn’t have quite the same ring to it." Heather suddenly felt a spangle of affection toward Nita. "Ha; you're funny. No wonder I've never heard about any of this. You’re coming at this – all of this – at the bible from a different way.""Almost oblique, right? So, yes. I am in agreement with you. Now, please, let me explain this unique dimension of thought, because it is not canonical. It’s heretical almost. Because of how uniquely it departs from Genesis." Her eyebrows flicked up cunningly. "And I am sure if there is anything we can agree upon is that Daniel is unique."Heather nodded tautly. "Because you are not wrong. Before, when I was speaking of potential territories and homelands, and the crack - the stricture - through which Daniel crawled, you know it. It was Canaan in the old texts. Today, we call it Israel." Heather felt the blood wick away from her "...oh.""There's an interlace that happens here," Nita continued solemnly. "It... his kind — and if I'm right, and I think I am — his kind is spoken about in Hebraic scripture and Greek scripture. And only his kind graces the Bibles of both.”,"So, you are from the same corner of the world. Which is why you have the same skin undertone." "Yes. And his kind is woven through three Books: Genesis, Numbers, and Enoch. And this is why you have been very helpful; because you have created a brainwave for me: seeing your texts, talking to you, it reminded me of this heretical literature.”Nita picked up one of the forks and looked at its muted shine. She flicked her eyes back to Heather. “These books, they - well - they have overlap with Hellenic lore, too. Which is unusual because the semitic population in Greece was small and brief. Which, again, points markedly toward a very specific time and space. You see: his kind, they were known as Gigantes. Which, in Hebrew, we gave them the name Nefalum. Which – we - today modernly transliterated to Nefilim or Nephilim. " When Nita said this, her syllables were beautiful; liquid.Heather sat forward, transfixed. Passages dedicated to what I did (is what his text message had proudly disclaimed)."The root of the word is as complex as the lore around it. There are multiple transliterations of it. The etymology is —“You know what the difference between an angel and demon is, Heather?”“Don’t,” she held up a hand, vainly halting him. "Don’t - don’t tell me. Don’t fucking sit there and tell me - don’t you dare say you’re some goddamn fallen angel, or demon –“Etymology.” He had said simply. -- interesting." Nita took a troubled breath. "Because it has multiple meanings. And even today we don't agree with them; not entirely. But there is one constant that crops up among the interconnected passages, the lore, the bible and the Greek Jewish bible, and that is, that... they're, well, divine touched.”Heather blinked owlishly. "...divine touched?" "Yes: they are the, um, product of fallen, corrupt angels and, uh, mortal women. Sometimes, however, when the women these angels copulated with were demon-infested or demons themselves – perchance Greek deities - we get not only divine offspring but the corrupted divine.”Nita quietly dragged the fork over the tray. The tinsels softly whistled, and their singular cry could not parry the abrupt roar that –“DANNY IS HALF ANGEL AND HALF DEMON ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!”Heather pointedly took two, big, exaggerated steps back, instead. “So. You're not human,” she said warily.“Half,” he amended. “Man, and not-man. And both of ‘em crave you like crazy.”"The root of their word translates to either Fallen Ones, or Giants. And you can see the overlap with Gigantes, right? And seeing his text messages talking about being bigger, well, it also evoked in me this line of reasoning. Because, see, in order to become this unique hybrid, they had to have available to them a unique copulation of cultures that can only hail from Israel, Greece, or Syria. Regions historically Hellenic. They're malefics in every sense of the word, but they're divine, too. So, they... mn, they are Divine Giants. When God struck them down, he sent them to Tartarus. When they re-emerged, years later, they were then called Titans by the Greeks. Some of them – these Nephilm - have drifted into areas like ancient Cyprus to, well, role-play - as you say - as Greek Gods. So, you were not wrong. Simply, inverted. Yes, I do believe that Daniel was -is- a Nefalum that, at some point, assumed the deceptive role of Greek God. It’s the only option, because all of those ancient cultures, now gone, could only write cooperatively about the Nephilim in tandem prior to the calamity. This destruction was shared, you see, because the calamity that felled their civilizations all at once felled the other ones, too. And this calamity couldn’t have been possible with normal science – because of how disparate and unique the terrain was between these regions; especially with mountains and the like – unless it happened in a…”Heather, slowly, as though rousing from a dream: "Unique stricture of time.”Nita folded her hands into her lap and looked down at the table. “Correct. How can these cultures, if they ceased to exist, write collaboratively about the Nefalum - that also existed in this unique time - unless they did so prior to their extinction? And this time was very unique. So unique we have a name for it.” Unable to meet eyes with Heather, "Antediluvian, as I said." Heather wrinkled her nose. "Ante- di... what? What does that mean? You said it before." But Heather knew what it was, as someone that just knows, without even needing to know, because her instinct, had instinctively, followed the elegant contours of their conversation. She knew it, like the change in seasons. Plainly, and simply."Pre-flood." "Pre flood as in... " Heather whipped around, "No. There's no way. He — what. Are you talking Noah's Ark, here? As in, like, NOAH FUCKING ARK WITH ANIMALS MARCHING TWO BY TWO!? HE LIVED IN THAT EPOCH?!”"Yes… or, at least,” Nitta tittered. “I’m sorry, I’m kind of… I can’t believe what I’m going to say next because it’s all kind of hitting me between the eyes now, and I can’t believe I didn’t see any of this sooner. Daniel's kind," she sighed heavily "the Nefalum, the Giants: they were energy-wasters. They ate to excess; and so, God punished them to turn on mankind and devour them. And they sexed lustfully; and so, God punished them to only be born masculine, and know only the pleasures of coupling with their food.” (Heather gawked). “And each of them brought their own gift to humanity. Which God spurned. One brought poem, one brought metaphor, and one brought magic; but they defiled. By God, did they defile. They brought so much wickedness and destruction to the world. And that for bringing an evil so muscular to Canaan, God flushed it all away. He washed it all away. So, he summoned the Flood —Heather barked a shrieking laugh into her hands. ""Leave it to me that when I, finally, find my own personal monster, he's literally the, like, Demon Daddy of all demons and he - he oh my God, Nita, I just realized something."But, Nita knew; she knew what Heather was going to say next. Which is why she looked solemnly at the caricature of the map of Canaan on her plate, made by cheese and whimsy. It seemed so meaningless, now."If - if Danny was — if he — if his people — were the reason for the Flood – with a capital fucking F and he ate women th-that lived in Canaan before the Flood- then, that means... Nita laced her fingers in her lap. Her intricately braided hair draped over her face like a veil."I'm sorry," Heather started laughing again. "I just. I can't. I really... I suddenly can't do cause and effect. I, oh my God, I literally forgot how to d — you know what this means, right? Right?""As I said: I do not like this perception; I do not like this possibility." "I'm gonna have to say the quiet part out loud, aren't I? We — you put us in a fucking fight with not only a Demon Giant God thing that was the cause of the fucking Flood - with a capital F — but he survived it." Heather sprang to her feet. The train slammed through a tunnel. The abrupt change in light crackled across her retinas."NITA. HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KILL A FUCKING DEMON GOD THAT SURVIVED THE FLOOD.""The knot," she whispered thinly. "DOES IT WORK AGAINST HIM?!" "I — yes. It must. It must.”"A fucking Demon, that mind you, was worshipped by the Greeks because of how convincingly Godly he was. So, what was his super power? Aside from being a fucking Giant and consuming hordes of fucking milk maids." Nita cast her an anemic look.“I guess the Flood wasn’t a metaphor after all, I –Heather choked down a sound. "Oh My God.” Heather buckled. She collapsed. Her head nearly slammed into the tray. Squealing a laugh, she threw her head back against the upholstered chair. Gripping her face, her fingernails pricking her skin, envenoming herself with madness: “I know what Danny is." In an epileptic flash her brain digressed, flickering over the last week; the last month; the last year in a great heave. At first there was the drone of white-noise, the unnecessary, a diffusive streak of colors, sounds, sensations and suggestions – a riot of memories. Then, her thoughts had voice. Had meaning. Had sentience.Except it wasn’t a metaphor, her brain interjected. Because, at the time, it had been nothing more than a metaphor. A metaphor, that in the spectacle of her head, had seemed so sexy; so hot. She had ignored the evil of the metaphor – even, at times, goading him to really do it forever-teasing her with their shared metaphor until the precise moment it had ceased being a metaphor, and in violent bodily collision, her demon became something demonic Her skin prickled at the re-emergence of their, once, shared metaphor. Because, despite their shared metaphor, he had not acted upon it; not yet. It was only when this part of their story had become inexorable – when she had begun to wonder about the metaphor, and she had begun touching herself to it, that he had signaled – in that maddeningly knowing way of his – that she was ready for him. For if he wasn’t human in function, he most certainly was in appearance. If he was scaled, or feathered, or devil-horned, it was only by great metaphorLike an automaton, Heather’s head slowly turned. Enervated, she picked it up. She picked up Danny’s phone. She flicked her fingers. She kindled it to life. She brought it up to her face. She keyed in the password (repeat transgressions always become easier). She brought up the conversation with Nita.,,,And freshly, Nita’s voice intoned, once again but this time inside Heather’s head:One brought poem, one brought metaphor, and one brought magicHeather gasped, heaving raggedly. She grabbed Nita by the shoulders. Nita, laboring under the communal epiphany, cast her a mildly offended look, but she did not bother to peel her way, because she knew. She knew next what Heather would say. Because, she said it, too, in great resonance in her head, just as Heather erupted."HE'S THE FUCKING DEMON OF METAPHOR." AFTERWORDNita's eyes widened in spasm. Heather: "We have a fucking demonic psycho that's... cursed with the need to eat from his Nephilim side and his Hellenic side gives him the ability to do it in really creative ways. It's all working together. Don’t you see it?! DON’T YOU?! His two sides are working together. That means he's literally bringing to life allegories such as – " she sputtered, spewing spittle everywhere: "THAT"S WHY HE TEXTED ME AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT?! Or, how about TOUGH PILL TO SWALLOW!? Nita, hollowly: “So, a Nefalum of Nuance? A Malefic of Meta? It –“Or, or wait, let me, oh, how about this one: YOU'RE AS BIG AS A MINUTE! That's how he shrinks us, Nita. Or HAHA," Heather dissolved into a fit of hysteria, as she next sputtered: "oh, I can't wait until he tries I'll fuck your brains out, on me. I mean, he’d probably love to skull-fuck me.” With growing resonance, sound: "THAT'S WHY HE SAVED ME FROM THE GUN. WHY HE COULD. HE MOVED FASTER THAN A SECOND BEAUSE HE CAN MOVE AS FAST AS A FUCKING BULLET." Heather doubled over, pealing into laughter. "Oh my God. You have fucked us over. You... you have completely fucked us. Danny is going to mow us down. He's going to.." she gasped, wheezing. "He's going to crush us like bugs. Or, or, here's a good one scare the bejesus out of you. I don't even... I don't even want to know what a fucking bejesus is, Nita. I'll swallow you whole, is a given, I mean, that's his calling-card, right?!" Heather tittered, ""Or, or what about chew you up and spit you out. He did that to Tammy, right?! Oh my God, we are doomed. We are absolutely doomed. No wonder he was so flippant with you, why he was fine giving you the Knot." Heather shook Nita again; she let her. "NITA, YOU STUPID BITCH, HOW THE FUCK DO WE FIGHT A DEMON THAT CONTROLS METAPHORS."Nita’s eyes were downcast. “I… miscalculated… I…”“MISCALCULATED?! DUDE, LADY. This – isn’t trying to figure out meters and miles! You just signed our fucking death warrants,” Heather hissed. “Do you think this is all kumbaya? Plucky group of women with even-pluckier group leader is going to somehow defeat a man-eating demon-giant, slash fallen corrupt angel obsessed with pussy - and so obsessed mind you, he peaced out of heaven to get more - slash Greek God –“Nephilim,” Nita said weakly.-WHATEVER THE fuck he is! HE SURVIVED THE MOTHERFUCKING GREAT FLOOD. Do you think this will all work out because of the friends we make along the way?!” Her voice sailed high on the ends, cracking, splitting open; shrieking. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GOT ME IN THIS FUCKING MESS! I WOULD HAVE… I – Heather jumped to her feet; collected her purse; thrust her hat on her head. "I'm Team Danny. At least I get to go home to a sexy Demon God every night. That gives me orgasms in the double-digits. I mean, yeah, he will probably end up making me real acquainted with the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but at least I understand that evil. You literally went ahead and co-signed all of our fucking death warrants without even consulting with us. He just wants to blow his load. You... you went into some insane soul contract with him cos you can't get out of your own way, lady. Danny was right: you're a narcissist. You're on a power trip. You're upset your sister died? Boo-hoo, welcome to the real fucking world, where everyone experiences everyone dying, but we all suck it up and move the fuck’on!”“Or," Heather lowed, "You learn to play the game right. You learn to survive; like I do. I'm gonna be his Persephone. I'm going to suck his demon dick every night. Cos, trust me, I'm not gonna be the one to end up in his stomach, metaphor or not. It's every man for himself, Nita."Nita patiently folded her hands on the table. "He's seduced you. That's apparent. He's very, very good at it. I think he has feelings for you: yes. Malefics are not fallow. They feel deeply — in their own way. But, the Lore still governs him. He still has his instinct; his urges. Don't think so highly of yourself so as to think you can rise above an instinct embedded in him for millennia.It's like living with a wolf. You bring it home because it looks like a dog; it acts like a dog; it even expresses affection like a dog. But, one day, that wolf will snap," Nita flicked a perfectly threaded eyebrow upward. "I think, with you, he is trying something new; something different. Because, I am sure, that hunting and eating for decades loses some of its... luster. With you, I think he is edging himself. I think he doesn't eat you; not yet. Not so soon. I think he wants to build up so much love and trust and good feelings in you, so much spirit and vitality - loosh - that when you are finally bursting with the assuredness that he would never hurt you, that is when he turns on you. That is when, in a stunning clack of jaws, he turns on you. He wants peak devastation. He wants to devastate you. And it will flush him with obscene pleasure."Heather frowned at her. "No -"I'm sorry if this is, ahem, hard to digest, but, come to me. Come back when you see what a monster he is. You haven't seen him kill, have you? You haven't seen him consume, have you? They all do. All Nephilim do. And you won't like it. And you'll come back, and we'll discuss this with more maturity."Heather shook her head. "First things first. I'm gonna go home, and I'm gonna beg. I'm gonna beg like I've never fucking begged in my life, for his forgiveness, cos if I don’t I’m pretty sure he’s going to murder the fuck out of me. But, I ain't hopping on your crazy train, lady.Besides, who are you. Like, ok, I get it. You're Danny's sister-in-law. And you've had some rough run-ins with him. And his wife? Ex-fucking wife? Dead as a doornail wife? Ooops, sorry. Bitch probably knew what she was getting into. If she was half as observant as me when I was at my fucking worst, trust me; she knew. Should we feel bad knowing she was in bed with a fucking crocodile? I don't know. Should we feel bad for me? I DON'T KNOW. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe there was too much resentment between them, cos he never shared his evil with her. But, at least I understand Danny's brand of evil, you know? Guy just wants to get his dick wet. You: you on the other hand actually invited this fucking demon into the lives of - of all your most devoted followers for the really, really, really tiny, microscopic remote possibility you can stop him That… that's real evil right there. If I have to choose between my pills, my priestess, or my demon — I'm going demon every time."“Wait,” Nita got to her feet.“Besides what is this? Any truth to this?” Heather flung her phone into Nita’s face; Nita avoided it by an optimist’s inch. Heather clacked her finger nail against the message. Tap Tap. “Any truth to it?”,Nita’s eyes flicked down; up. “I had to… I –“You what?”“I had to be sloppy. I had to. That way I didn’t leave my finger prints all over it. He would know it was me, like a signature, and –Heather shrieked a sound; turned in a tight frenetic movement. “YOU DEATH-MARHCED ME INTO A CONTRACT WITH A PSYCHO?!”Nita’s voice was flint: “You have to understand. That was not the intent. That –“Why.” Heather lowed. “WHY.”“I needed you pliable.”“To do WHAT?”“I need your help. I need… we need to demystify The Knot together. – if you – if we – do this right, I think… your unholy union is not only an echo of biblical lore, but I think vital for its formation; this means, you need to extract from him – all of his secrets – all of them, so that I can use them. So, this romance between you – if ever there is such a thing – must continue – even if it means you have to endure his every obscene need –“I’M THE BAIT?!” Heather shrilled. “I ALREADY AM. I’m already the fucking meat, Nita. I have to deal with his crazy ass in three fucking days!” She shook her head. “You’re so remote from this, you’re so removed…. you haven’t lived with him, you haven’t – he raped me. Did you know that? Like, bad. I needed fucking stitches. He tried to crash me down his throat. He jumped me in the warehouse. He fucking shrunk me, and he pinged me around in a glass jar so fucking hard, I think he knocked my goddamn eyes sideways – cos, I…” Heather sobbed a sound. “I keep seeing floaters… and… I had an aunt that had it, too. I know what it means… I –“He will blind you next,” Nita pronounced tonelessly. “Which is why you have to… we have to do this together. You’ve already taken photos, you already have small – and big – vital clues. I need this. I need all of this. To unwind the Knot, we have to unwind his genesis. We have to understand each of his identities, that he claimed in each Epoch. We must recreate the Lore. I… I already have his consent which is why it is so hard to kill a malefic. Imagine? Asking for – and getting – consent? I have it. We use it. Please, we have to we –With an insolent sound Heather swiveled her cap around. “You never let me get to number two. I said I was Team Danny, right? Well, that’s a lie. Cos, really, I’m Team Heather. I don’t trust his crazy ass – and frankly – I don’t trust your crazy ass either. All I’ve got is me: myself and I. So, yeah, I’ll work with you, Nita. And not because I even want him dead – how crazy is that? – but because I need something – I need a fucking plan B. I need a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency back-up if he decides to lose his shit on me. So, if I can even inch him a little closer to a dirt nap…. I’ll do it.”Nita nodded her head tautly; once. “We have to do this. We have to decipher his genesis. When you live as long as he has, he has assumed multiple identities. We must find them. We must. The Knot requires it. Because if we don’t –“Yeah, yeah, he’ll kill us. Trust me got the mem –“No,” Nita said solemnly. “Worse. I think he’s trying to reverse his dilution. I think… he’s trying to return to his genesis. And he might be able to if he inverts the Knot against us.”Heather’s eyebrows bobbed heavenward. “I don’t like how that sounds… I –“Heather,” Nita breathed, “I think he wants to recreate the Lore, and he has started with you.”“What does that mean?”“If If he’s one of the Canaanite Kings, one of their chieftains, as he so claims… then… I think. I think he wants to turn the page in the Book of Enoch.”“Pretend I speak English, only.”“He wants to bring upon us another era of Giants. He wants to… harken back. He wants another Great Flood.”END Part Two: Glass BallerinaAuthor Note: As an avatar of metaphor, this is why Danny always breaks the fourth wall; it is how I’ve endowed his character with Godliness. You will note Volume II is Come, Let Us Prey. This is true. However, we must first go, ahem, sideways to Glass Ballerina, which is next in this Story.Part Two: Glass BallerinaStory Direction: I am re-writing the Book of Enoch - primarily focusing on The Book of Giants. I am borrowing, adding, enhancing, exacerbating, and embellishing the lore for my needs in this Earth.And, I am doing it my way.Also, in parallel, I am designing the Web Comic.,WIP Web ComicFebruary 3, 2024 ▶️ Tapas Web Comic - First Episode Winter 2024

Mature Content

Justiarte by ItsAikochan13
11 LITTLE PILL (M/F dark-erotica) PUBLICPredator and prey bond. Or, try to. These are their text messages. And, in them, some interesting, mystical facts, emerge. Despite her insolence exacerbating his prey drive. Or, maybe, because of it.Swallow Me, Like Your Little PillA female pill addict tries to vainly outwit, outlast, outsex a violent demonic "monster." Because he prefers his pills lady-shaped.This is a visceral dark-erotica novel that goes way beyond the vampire bite.Warning/Promise: Sexting; Vore-texting (vexting?); chilling, mature; horror; sadomasochism implications; vorarephilic; mental carousel; lore; predator/prey relationship; sadistic proclamationsThis is the public version (yes; it's the tame version) To see the X-Rated versionBuy lifetime access to the X-Rated Gallery (for all volumes, books, editions)Subscribe to this tier and get it by defaultVenture to Patreon for FREE 7 DAY TRIAL 11Spit, Spirit, SemenFINALE PART 2 OF 3,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,She closed out of Danny’s text screen; she closed out of Priestess’s text screen. She jammed her phone into her pocket, the kinetics of which robbed her of the ability to see the sudden text that bloomed – as she darted out the door. ,And, then, for the first time in 3 days, Danny’s phone – in Heather’s pocket – buzzed, announcing an important notification. Two buzzes, in staccato. Heather froze. Coincidence, Heather thought to herself. Author Note: If, at times, you felt the twinge of something different or ancient from Danny in this conversation, that is not your imagination. As a writer I have carefully cultivated his voice over the years, so, every now and then – if you notice – that something else, something alien flickers through, something that feels dated, this is intentional. You will learn what he is before the close of Little Pill. It's important to the story canon. Story Direction: Heather and Priestess meet in the next chapter.This is the public version (yes; it's the tame version) To see the X-Rated versionBuy lifetime access to the X-Rated Gallery (for all volumes, books, editions)Subscribe to this tier and get it by defaultVenture to Patreon for FREE 7 DAY TRIAL...

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DepreyInc Featured By Owner Edited Jul 28, 2021  Student Writer
Bringing Down A God Art By:  www.instagram.com/wakingofskyt… www.kickstarter.com/
Intro; Support this artist he is one of a kind and will never be seen again in your or my lifetime


My Name is Othello. I am a warrior of the eagle tribe. We are sworn to protect our land from all. Animals, demons, angels everything even gods.

That is where my story begins and ends.

Ithaka the bleeding god was one of infinite suffering. The Ancients ones could not reason with it. The Elders could not contain or destroy it.

It was an unknown. I had sent out my raven Icarus to find out info about the gods where about.

On his return, he exploded, and written in his blood was the words:

You shall not find what you seek, but I am in the valley of bones if you wish to praise your new lord!

Ithaka would be avenged. This son of a bitch killed my tribe, my wife, my kids. His presence drowned them in blood dissolving them so they were just liquid. No bones or cloth. My tribe and village.

Gone like water in all directions.


I was no user of magic, nor able to use the power of the gods or nature. All I had was my Extended Yari and Greatsword.

My chance of survival was close to none. But I had nothing left.

The way to the valley of bones was easy. All that was near the god became blood and were absorbed.

Not me: I was the " chosen one" that didn't mean shit when you're alone.


I looked upon the lake of the dead once dry now filled with blood.

Even the skeletons would not approach. I readied my weapons and walked into the lake.

It was not deep at all easy to walk on. But it gave the feeling you could be sucked in any minute.

Out of a blood mist, it came. Eyes bleeding waterfalls from empty voidness eyes sockets. Face a white mask cracking as upon its head its symbol of power. As it spoke it was all around as no mouth existed for speech.

You are the last alive on this pitiful planet. I shall remake this world anew. If women you desire to procreate that can be arranged. You are my choice to make the world whole.

or you can die and I will force this through reanimation and slavery of your soul. The choice is yours.

As its final words hit I felt the Yari radiate golden energy and from it, my head throw me.

I did not question but let it fly.

It exploded upon its face causing it to crack and the yari to disappear.


I wish I had never seen its face, behind the mask endless tendrils of worms killing one another causing the blood tears.

Its hands appeared as a colossal being.


I can say I won with my great sword and I did hit it many injuring it.

But this god could not reanimate me and force slavery. My blood would not allow it.

Instead this god this demon could control time.

I feel every death, I feel every breath getting crushed. What's worse is he makes me drink it. The blood.

He makes me drink them! My wife! My kids! My people!

Please if you find me Kill Me! If I die by your hand I same set free.

HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!

2, 000,000,000 B.C

Found in Antarctica circa 1984 Sept 14
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good acting, bad act by Korwynze Autopsy by Korwynze . by Korwynze
may these  be added?
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