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Love and Legion
- Love and Legion -
She had been perhaps too successful, in her adventure to penetrate the dark manor house that had long laid on rugged the borderlands between the small, nameless village at the end of the road that ran from the great forest that dominated so much of the local region and the crossroads beyond which lay a dense stretch of marshland that continued for a great span in all directions beyond that point. She had properly been warned that such a deed would be beyond the skills of a child... and yet, despite that she managed to do the seemingly impossible. Her adopted parents were both criminals, members of a band of thieves that were often aided by the traveling wanderers whose wagons passed by their home every so often. In those moments, she was told to remain in her room and to neither spy upon what was being discussed... nor attempt to listen in upon what was being said. For to overhear such dealings as took place could be a dangerous thing, especially for a little girl prone to being especially nosy and inquisitive. Her parents would welcome several strangers into their kitchen, and always in the kitchen rather than either the den, the dining room, or the living room... those strangers bearing the swarthy looks of the wanderers, their voices with the distinctive accents that so many of the wanderers' fellows had when they tried to speak in tongues other than their native language. The kitchen was specifically chosen because it was far from any part of the house where the child might be playing, hiding or busying herself with her books, toys, and other diversions. Thus, her parents could be certain that their daughter would overhead nothing by chance that she should not have her ears drawn to. She always saw them entering the kitchen and after that she ran to her room and tried to busy herself whilst the meeting was taking place. Sometimes, she would chance to hear yelling or course words being spoken loudly that she could not quite make out... but aside from that, she never had even the slightest inkling of what was transpiring between those dark strangers and her parents. Sometimes, she would hear her own name being brought up, but whenever it was that this happened she would cover her ears and start singing because she did not want to know at all why they would be mentioning her. Likewise, she never asked her parents what they had discussed, preferring to be a good girl and stay well out of their business. Oh, she knew that her father was a thief and that her mother was probably a prostitute as well as a thief herself... and that they sold stolen goods to supplement their own considerable income. They were wealthy and well to do, though not noble nor of the upper classes of society. If they stole it was likely to make themselves even more wealthy, and to slake a thirst they seemed to have for dangerous doings. It had not always been that way, but in recent years it had become so. She was eleven years old now, and she could remember a time from before this, a time before her parents became enamored with the lifestyle they now lived. A time when no peculiar strangers came to visit them and demand a meeting. He likely would never have left the house at all but for the fact that one day she actually did chance to overhear what was passing between her parents and those wanderers. She had not been trying to, to be fair... but her father was becoming so angry that his voice carried all through the house, and she could hear him in the kitchen screaming: “You shall most certainly not take my daughter away from me... I will pay you what I owe, I swear by all that is holy!” And then her mother began to cry and scream, and she could not hear what it was her mother said. But she could hear one of the strangers' deep voices saying to her father in an equally loud tone: “We shall, and we can either take her with us when next we stop by to visit... or we can take your wife in ways that I suspect you would not like to be forced to bear witness to. The choice is yours! For the time has gone past when money could liberate you from your debt to us.” And she heard her father agree to the man's wicked terms, and that was when the little girl decided it was time to flee and strike off on her own. But she dared not take any of her parents' money in order to do so... she needed money of her own, and she had a mind to steal some from the manor house on the borderlands. A place she had heard her father oft talk about as if it contained treasures he had considered seizing for himself... though always he was too afraid to go anywhere near to it, claiming it was haunted in a way that made it a bad site to burgle into.
As she sat down upon the ground at the base of a massive tree near the edge of the nearby woods just off of the road, the little girl opened the sack she had brought with her and looked upon its' contents. It was a good haul, a decent score! She had a knack for this life, having studied up about it from reading a few of her father's private journals when he was careless enough to leave them open and well within her reach whilst he busied himself in another room of the house in between returning to resume writing in them once more. She never saw within them anything about those wanderers, but she discovered plenty about his and his wife's illicit nocturnal activities. She learned the best methods for picking locks and the best hours to attempt to break into private dwellings... and she already possessed a natural talent for being sneaky and stealthy and going about undetected. She had often crept about the house, practicing and pretending to be living the life of a rogue whilst breaking into locked rooms that should have been forbidden for her to enter. By the time she had made the decision, to burgle that frightful manor, she did indeed quite have a good idea of what she was getting herself into. She wore the black dress, though it was her fanciest dress... the one her mother had picked out for her to wear on somber occasions. It was a beautiful garment! Long, frilly, with puffy elbow length sleeves and a wide open neck area that nearly exposed her shoulders but not quite. It was imported from Paris, apparently... though she now knew that her father had stolen it from a woman he had also raped and murdered when he broke into the house of the lady during one of his nighttime excursions to one of the big cities a goodly distance away. The full horror of it was the victim of this crime had worn that dress when she was herself a child, and she kept it likely for sentimental reasons. That was what her father had wrote of the matter in his journals, and so that was how the little girl had come to learn of it. The aspiring little thief wore under the dress a pair of long baggy black bloomers made of the softest silk, which were all the rage in England though typically they only came in white. These... were custom dyed in order to go with the dress, and thankfully at least these were not stolen but purchased by her mother legitimately. The only black shoes she had, were this pair of fancy dress shoes that she had on right now, with clean white socks to keep her feet warm. Over her hands and forearms she wore the pair of fancy gloves which covered her arms all the way up to her elbows, and these gloves were of a similar soft material as was the dress they went with. The dress she was wearing right now. Around her neck, she was wearing a silver neck chain with a pedant attached to it that held in it a black onyx jewel. The girl herself was remarkably beautiful! She had long black wavy hair and rather vibrant blue eyes. She had quite light skin with a naturally pinkish tone to it, though she was not pale nor in any way sickly looking. Her features were angelic, perhaps even a bit cherubic to be blessed with looking upon. Her lips were full and often when she pouted her father's heart melted from how sweet she looked even when sorrowful moods overtook her. She was stocky built, and of a normal height for a girl her age, she was big boned though happily she had never become overweight. Thanks to her bone structure, she was strong, and thanks to a healthy diet and life lived well she was healthy. It occurred to her, however, as she said looking upon the fruits of her illegal labor... that if she could not find someone to feel sorry for her and take her in, then all the wealth in the would would mean nothing. And though she was smart, she was not wise and had no idea where she should go to next. “If I return to my home, my father will let those strange people take me away. I dare not!” she mused to herself, as she contemplated what to do next. The black cloth cloak she wore over her dress kept her warm, and it was early enough in the autumn season that the first chill and frost of the year had not come to pass yet. It was the nineteenth century, but in this wild part of the world it may as well have still been sometime in a past more distant. Transylvania, was hardly a place well known in the west, and the history of this, her home nation, was quite the long and sometimes dark one. And that darkness was most present in the wilder places of that land, such as these particularly dense woodlands. It was well past midnight, and it was likewise well past any proper little girl's bedtime. Yet, this child was hardly proper! Most children had a more innocent idea of mischief than what she had done this day... this night. This very dark night.
The only light came from the bright harvest moon up above, which had allowed her to see reasonably well despite the dense black shadows all around and about. She was not tired, having slept through the morning... right after breakfast... and well into late afternoon. By the time supper came around, she had already a great deal of energy coursing through her young body. Her parents had gone out once nightfall came, as soon as they believed she was in bed and asleep... and that was when she ran away in order to enact this crime and strike off to seek a new life elsewhere. Often, she had told her father that she truly did believe even a child could break into the forbidding manor and relieve it of its' treasures if any such things it actually did prove to contain. Always, he told her no child could do such a thing! For if he as a grown man feared to... most certainly no child would dare to brave the undertaking. Tonight proved him to have been a bigger fool than anyone knew... for she had done what he claimed she could not, what he was too big of a coward to do. And now, she knew why he had feared that place so! Why it was that no one in all the surrounding countryside ever went anywhere near it. She had paid a dear price... just to be able to come away from the forsaken manor with a good deal of ill gotten goods to show for it. Though, now that she was a distance away from that place, she found that she had nowhere to get away to. That, more than anything, filled her heart with despair and sadness. “And what if the first people I chance to ask to take me in... what if they prove as wicked as my father, or worse what if they turn out to be like those strangers he is in league with?” she asked in her mind, of no one in particular. She closed the sack after removing from it the knife she had brought with her from her family's kitchen prior to departing to undertake the task she had just completed. She looked upon it and saw how it glinted in the moonlight, and remembered what it felt like to wipe blood from it. The little boy she had murdered, the one living in the dark and lonesome manor house on those borderlands... he had not been natural, not human. He had turned out to be a creature of the night of some variety, the stuff of rural legends and tales told in taverns by people who sought to make each new telling of such stories more sensational than the last. Slaying him, had proved to be highly difficult, and he had bitten her hard upon the left shoulder before expiring from the mortal wounding she had managed to deliver unto him. He was not a vampire, and his teeth were not fangs... but even so, he had managed to draw a goodly measure of blood with that all to sharp bite of his. She managed to clean the wound well with some clean water from a pump outside the manor house that remarkably still functioned, and a strip of cloth she had cut from the boy's shirt in order to make some decent makeshift bandages from. After bandaging the wound as best as she could, going by things she had learned from medical books in her family's library back at home, the same as she had learned the best ways to kill a person from... aside from the morbid musings of that sort which her father's journals sometimes contained... she came away from the manor no worse for her ordeal, at least so far as she could tell. The dead boy, she threw down the well behind the manor house before she left for the road once she had made certain first that she had taken everything of value she could carry in her sack. Even as strong as she was, everything had proved more difficult than she would have liked for it to have been... and as she sat beneath the tree contemplating a bleak future, she winced a bit from the stinging pain in her shoulder. “No crime ever goes unpunished, they say!” she said out loud, and on saying that she chuckled in a way that sounded almost mad to her ears. “Well, Ursula, what are we to do next?” she asked of herself, realizing full well there would be no answer to that forthcoming. Ursula for her part was never one prone to delusions, and so she held no imaginings about how things would go in life for her if she did not have a proper plan come the morrow. Then there was the thought that it could be a certainty that her parents would go out to search for her, and that her father might think to check if she had indeed come to the manor house to burgle into it as he had told her explicitly never to even so much as entertain the notion of so doing. His fear of the place would be replaced by determination, as he and his wife searched for their daughter in any and every likely nook and cranny of the land. If only because she was a valuable way for them to pay off their debt when even money could not do the trick.
And, she did not wish to think what might happen of his strange associates discovered her! Likely as not, they would spirit her away never to be seen or heard from by anyone ever again. Weary from worry and the pain of her wound, Ursula allowed herself to fall asleep despite not being all that tired. She did not remember dreaming about anything, and when she finally awoke it was well past midday. She had a bit of a fever, she noticed... for she was sweating profusely, her hair slick with it. Yet, she had taken all the proper precautions with her shoulder to make certain her wound would not get infected! Odd, that it would seem she was taking sick from it despite that. It felt like her shoulder was on fire, and her head felt hot when she touched it. “Like it or not, I need to get home! At the very least, my mother knows a lot about medical stuff.” she reasoned silently in her thoughts, also reasoning: “That, and I honestly do doubt those strangers will be back to take me away just yet. I have until their next visit, to plan my next move.” She would have to stash away her sack quickly as soon as she got home, before her mother or her father could take it from her to see what she had inside of it. She decided she would tell them there was nothing at all in the manor, and that way they would never learn what she had done there. It would be hypocritical of them to judge her for doing things no worse than anything they had ever done, but all the same she needed what she had stolen in order to secure a future for herself elsewhere. Somehow, it was still something she was determined to see through! But that would have to wait until she was better from whatever currently was ailing her. When she got back home, she found the house was empty and sure enough a note indicated that her parents were out searching for her after discovering she was not at home. Luckily, she had time to store her sack in her room, hiding it among all of the clothes and toys in her closet. She laid down upon the bed, feeling suddenly very overcome with weariness again, and her eyes... growing heavier, and heavier, with each passing moment... closed fast, and of their own accord.
Ursula's father shook her firmly, several times over, hoping to rouse her from her slumber. The little girl seemed to be breathing heavier and heavier as her body was wracked by seizures of some sort. Her mother stood nearby, a deeply concerned look upon the young woman's face. The child was foaming at the mouth, and suddenly Ursula's eyes snapped open with her eyes rolling upwards whilst a loud shriek from the girl's mouth filled the air with the terrible resounding of it. Her father suddenly jumped back from the bedside, making the sign of the cross with his hands as he did so. At the same time, his wife... hardly a timid woman... nonetheless screamed at the display before her. “What in the world is wrong? Ursula! What is wrong with you?” her father shouted, but no reasonable answer was forthcoming as of yet. After several long minutes of this taking place, the seizures stopped and Ursula appeared to fall on back into slumber once again... only to awaken moments later. The child appeared to be over whatever it was that had afflicted her up until that point, and her fever was no more. But neither did she speak a word to her parents, who looked upon her worriedly. “Ursula? Are you alright, dear?” asked her mother and then Ursula said something that shocked everyone present to their core. She said to her mother, in the angriest and most wicked tone of voice imaginable for one so young: “Yes, whore! I am fine! Oh, I am beyond fine, you wretched slut of a mother. I feel better than I ever have in my whole little life, and I have such wonderful, magical thoughts going through my silly little mind.” Ursula sat up in the bed as soon as she had spoken thus, and tore off the bandage from her shoulder... revealing the wound to have miraculously healed as if it had never happened at all. With only the blood on the bandages to show for it having ever having been there previously. Her father smacked her across the face, and said to her in a very stern sort of way: “How dare you talk to your mother like that! Wherever, did you learn such foul language, anyway? Certainly not in this house, though you've lived in no other.” To be certain, she had even been schooled at home, and she had no friends or acquaintances her own age who could have been guilty of teaching her how to curse and swear in such a manner. Ursula smiled in a sinister way, and she said in reply: “I learned it from reading your journals, Father. Oh, the nice things I learned from those!”
Then, the little girl licked her lips and said to the man: “Also... you hit good. Really good! I liked it... how about trying that again, only this time you really should give into what you actually wish you could do to me, and rip off my clothes so you can fuck me like a proper little harlot. Like what you did to that poor lady whose dress this was before you stole it from her. I'll bet you fucked her hard... before you slit her throat from ear to ear!” Her father fell silent and gasped, clutching his wife as the two of them stood back well away from their daughter's reach. “What is wrong, Father? Nothing to say, I would say! Well, that only means you know that everything I just said is true and you know it.” Before either of them had the presence of mind to react, their daughter suddenly jumped out of her bed and ran to the closet. Upon reaching for the sack she had stashed away there, the little girl's right hand closed over the sturdy hilt of the knife that she had used to kill that strange boy. Running forward, blade in hand, she stabbed it into her mother repeatedly whilst her father tried to get her off of the woman. He managed to pull her away, and to get the knife from her grasp... but it was too late, though thankfully the wound appeared to be a superficial one at worst. Opening the window, the man threw the knife out of it and turned to regard his injured wife, who was crumpled unto the bedroom floor and crying piteously in pain. “Oh my God! Oh my God, Ursula, what have you done?” he cried angrily, almost clenching his teeth to contain his fury. The little girl returned to her bed and laid down upon it, spreading her legs wide whilst lifting her skirts up. She kept saying, over and over again: “Fuck me, Father! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me good!” And as she said that, she rubbed herself between her legs through her bloomers. Her father carried her mother out of the room in order to go and tend to the woman's injuries, which were bleeding profusely. Blood was on the floor of the bedroom... the blood of Ursula's mother. Once her parents were fully out of the room... the child lunged forward and crept across the floor to all of that blood which had pooled there. Then, she ran her hand over the blood and felt the wetness of it. Taking that blood, she smeared it over her face in the shape of a cross, all the while giggling insanely. “Our Father, who art afraid to fuck his daughter like a whore! Hallowed be thy ruinous name.” She chanted, proceeding from there to recite a profanity filled blasphemy of the Lord's Prayer. She was free now, liberated, able to indulge in all that had been forbidden for her to indulge in previously in life. Such a blessing, the bite that so set her free!
His wife would live, thankfully he had managed to get her wounds stitched and bandaged decently. It was thanks to her verbally walking him through the doing of all that, that she would not get infected or have to be taken to a physician. It had been a painful ordeal for her, given there was no means to lessen the pain of the stitches that her husband gave her... but at least she would not die. “Why did she do that to me? I do not understand what is happening with Ursula!” exclaimed the mother through her tears. As well, her husband exclaimed: “And this comes right after I got our debts paid so we could see the last of those odious people who wanted to take her away from us. Poor timing, indeed!” The previous night, he had successfully abducted a little orphan girl off the streets of the nearest city, a girl who was every bit as beautiful looking as Ursula was. After molesting her vilely, since he felt why not have a little bit of fun sprinkled in with business... he took the girl to the wanderers, who accepted her in place of Ursula. Thus, they agreed that he owed them nothing further, and promised him he would never see them again. What they planned to do with that orphan girl, was anyone's guess... but at least Ursula would be safe at last. That was what her father had wanted, and yet now it seemed that Ursula had gone mad following whatever that sickness was that she had come down with.... tainting what should have been a happy sort of occasion for the whole family. Tainting it with the promise of tragedy, if the little girl's insanity never subsides. “I have heard of certain illnesses that can cause people to behave madly.” the mother did state, fully believing that this was a madness born from natural causes. “Some can be cured, but some cannot be... it all depends on her mind.” she added. “Right now, we need to consider how best to treat what is wrong with her.” the child's father admitted, further saying: “But the Devil take me... I know not how!”
Suddenly, his daughter's voice could be heard coming from the doorway of the bathroom in which her father tended to her mother... right behind him. She exclaimed in a singsong voice: “The Devil is within us all, Father! In me, in you, in the man in the moon too. Do not deny it, you know it to be true! Let me see... I know, I'll set you free, so you can become just like me.” Then, she rushed forward and without a hint of warning beforehand she bit her father very hard on his arm, drawing blood. She let go of him as soon as that was done, and ran off skipping to someplace else in the house. “Oh God! That burns like a thousand bee stings!” he screamed, as his wife shrieked in horror upon seeing what their child just did. “Did you see her face? She's painted a cross on it with blood! My blood.” the mother said, feeling very terrified. “Bloody little barbarian she's become!” shouted the man as he set about cleaning the bite and bandaging it. They had come from England originally, the three of them, and for his part the man had a habit of still using the old turns of phrases that he had been used to for most of his life. He was middle aged, and not about to change certain of his ways simply because of a change of where he now lived. In stark contrast, Ursula mostly only knew the life she lived in Transylvania, having only really spent her first five years of her young life in England prior to her family moving eastward to their new home due to business reasons at first. But for the mother it was also a homecoming since when she herself was a little girl, she had lived in Transylvania before her parents got into a bit of trouble that required them to move, with England being the country they had decided to relocate to. Only her husband, was fully of English blood and ancestry. And when he became angry, it showed! The bite burned horribly... and the man winced from the agony of it, swearing with every curse word and bit of profanity he could muster. “She was never a biter even when she was but a babe! This is very unlike Ursula... to behave in such a nasty, vicious sort of way.” the mother said, trying to reason out why this all was suddenly happening. “I swear to God, if she does that again I'll teach her a lesson she'll never forget.” said the woman's very evidently pained husband. The look upon his face was sinister, and it made his wife begin to feel afraid.
Ursula had never broken her parents' things before, but at present she was feeling quite happy as she smashed expansive vases in the hallway outside the kitchen after having smashed a pile of dishes there. They had been neatly placed upon shelves in the hallway, those vases, and some of them held a great bit of sentimental value to her father, since they had belonged to his mother who had left them to him upon her death. Ah, poor grandmother! She had gone insane, before death finally took her, everyone had said. “I wonder if insanity runs in our family?” the child thought to herself, as she picked up a statue from yet another shelf and threw it as hard as she could at a wall, smashing the statue to pieces thereby. It was a small statue of the Greek god Apollo, very expensive, and definitely Italian. Now, it was rubble! And it felt good to finally see it destroyed. Especially after all the times her father had told her it was probably worth more than she was. This act of destruction, it excited her in ways she had not thought possible, it made her feel ecstatic and high on life. She back into the kitchen, skipping the whole way, and after she got there she took off her gloves and tossed them into the air, this way and that. She then took a knife in hand from out of some drawers in a cabinet next to the stove, and cut a cross into her left forearm. Not hard enough to require stitches, but definitely deep enough that it was going to leave a scar in its' wake. “Forgive me Father, but I love to sin!” she exclaimed, adding: “I am heartily sorry if this offends thee!” And then, she recited more prayers and transformed them into hideously profane verses. She cackled as madly and insanely as you please whilst she cut her right palm and licked the blood from the cut before wiping bloody crosses all over the kitchen walls. She didn't feel pain any longer, she noticed. And if she did, she no longer was able to notice it at the very least. Her inhibitions were gone, and she was able to control her impulses and desires no longer... even the most depraved and terrible of them. She had not ever realized before, how much darkness had been inside of her! It was time to let it all out, to let go of civilized reasoning whilst she embraced a far more primal state of thinking. She began to sing... loudly.
When Ursula returned to the bathroom in order to check in upon her father and her mother, it was the second hour past midnight. She had eaten supper alone by then... consuming raw meat from the kitchen and drinking the blood form the meat as if it were but milk. The taste was coppery, but she discovered she liked it a great deal more than she expected she would. She somehow knew her father needed time in order for the changes inside of him to fully take place... but, she also knew that the span of time was different for everybody. For some it could take more hours than for others, and still others might have a more instantaneous transformation depending on how prone to letting go of their inhibitions they were already to begin with. In her father's case... well, he never had a great deal of self control no matter how he pretended to be so civilized. It would be entertaining, she thought, to see how he was progressing in all this time that she had left him to his own devices whilst the infection within him consumed him full. She walked into the bathroom, and she smiled cruelly at the sight before her, a scene straight out of the most frightful of nightmares. Her mother's body was in the bathtub, which was filled with her blood to the very brim. Her arms and legs had been stripped of their flesh, and her head had been removed from her body with surgical precision. The corpse was naked, her clothing laying in shredded tatters upon the floor in front of the tub. At the nearby sink, her father worked hard with the knife he held at attempting to divest the skull of her mother... of all of its' remaining skin, flesh, and muscle tissue. The now dead woman's scalp was laying flat upon the floor next to the sink, and as her former husband worked at his gruesome task... chunks of her skin and bloody meat fell into the sink and sometimes unto the floor all about the man's feet. He was, for his part, covered in his wife's blood. He still was wearing his trousers, his socks, and his shoes too, but he had taken off his shirt and vest many long and arduous hours ago. About when his fever was becoming at its' worst. Those were thrown into the farthest corner... and were soaked through with blood. He must have begun this grotesque work whilst still afflicted with the fever, and the early stages of his wife's frightful murder he would never fully be able to remember. He could not recall the seizures, the convulsions, and what followed after that... only when his senses came back to him as much as they could or ever would again, only then did he realize what he was doing. And he realized that he was enjoying himself immensely! After all, his wife never would have understood what he was now anyway, and what he intended to do with their daughter. “I feel your eyes on me, girly! And I know what you want me to do to you, too. Mm, I know it so well, so well, so well!” he said in a much deeper tone of voice than he normally used. “Remember a couple of years back when I used to come to you in the night and feel your cunt with my hands while you slept?” he asked Ursula, and she did thus answer her father by saying: “I never told Mother about it, either! You never told me not to, but I never told her anyway... because I liked it. I was always a dirty, naughty little girl, wasn't I?” And, deciding at last that his work was complete... the father tossed the bloody skull of his wife into the rub with the rest of her remains. It was not fully carved clean yet, but it did not need to be. Good enough, for that whore! He thought to himself those words, as he walked towards his daughter with a vile intent. She licked her lips lustily, as he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom where he closed the door behind them prior to throwing her down upon her bed. “Time to fuck, little bitch!” he said to her as a bit of drool did drizzle down out of the corner of his mouth. She was already lifting up her skirts and gyrating so lewdly for him... he looked at the soft, silky material of those bloomers she was wearing, and he could not wait to tear that material and rip it with his hands as he tore them off of her, which is what happened as soon as he got on top of her. He was like a great beast looming over the little girl, whilst she lay submissively on her back to receive every cruelty that she knew he was going to unleash upon her virgin body. “You never fucked me, back then!” she said, adding: “Fuck me now! Fuck me like the slut my mother was.” And once her bloomers had been fully torn away from her by her father's hands, he removed his pants and undergarments and he threw them across the room. The shaft of his manhood... that hard, throbbing cock between his legs... was erect and threatening as the man wedged himself between the child's legs.
He wedged himself there, his hands upon her thighs to keep those lovely young legs of her wide apart. And then, he put his cock inside of her maiden cunt whilst she giggled and laughed with abandon. Had she not been changed to feel pain no longer, it would have hurt a great deal when she was penetrated in the way that she was, penetrated for the first time in her life. She bled, when her virginity was taken by her father, and felt a bit of tearing as it happened. It should have hurt, but it did not... though she felt all of the pleasure from it that was to be expected. That was how this transformation worked, it enhanced everything pertaining to pleasure, even as it made it impossible to feel pain. Even as it turned people to their darkest of their own hungers and thirsts, to their most twisted of their wants and dreams. All of the things you try to bury so deeply, it brings forth! And so it was that Ursula's father was driven to fuck his very own daughter without even a slight hint of hesitation. He licked her face as he did thrust in and out of her in a primal rhythm, yet he was cautious not to injure her in any way. For as twisted as his desires were in regard to Ursula... he also desired never to see her come to any lasting harm in life. Even so, he was hardly gentle in other respects with her! He clawed a bit at her chest at one point, and so sharp had his fingernails become since he stopped cutting them several days ago... well become he even dreamed that this might someday be a reality for him... that he scratched her bloody doing that. She nibbled upon his earlobes when he loomed in close as he neared his passion's climax, and then bit his shoulder a little before he began to move faster in and out of her. She soon felt his warm seed shooting into her, and he continued to fuck her after that until she herself achieved a rather ferocious orgasm that made her body shudder as it happened. “Oh, Daddy!” she cried out at the height of her ecstasy, and he was chuckling as he grunted for the last time before withdrawing his cock from her. He took some of her virgin's blood... and he he licked it with his fingers. “You will not be a daughter anymore for me.” he said to her, and he added after that: “You will be my wife, from now on!” They kissed passionately, and then got a couple of tools from the tool shed in the back yard that they used to file their teeth to fanged points once they returned to the bathroom to make use of the mirror there, so they could be certain the effect was just as desired. “Why a cross, daughter?” her father asked as he traced his pointing finger along the mark upon Ursula's face after the twisted couple had finished working upon their teeth and all was as they wanted it to be with them. She then said to him after giggling so much that it was practically a fit: “I did that... so God will see it, and that upon seeing all that I do... God will weep. I did it to get God's attention, just so I could make the almighty deity cry.” And then, her father so said to her in a somewhat philosophical response to that revelation: “What, makes you think God would not approve? God, is cruel! Like in the Old Testament. God likes blood, death, rape... and sacrifice! Especially if they are done in God's name.” Ursula laughed and giggled even more on hearing all of that, and in between her giggling she exclaimed joyfully whilst skipping all about: “Then God must love me! Oh, and you too. And so... I love God too! You hear that God? I love you too!” She tried to wash the cross off her face after that, and all the dried blood came away perfectly... although underneath it her skin was permanently discolored in the reddish shape of it. “I think God liked what I had to say.” she said to her father as he noticed the bizarre mark. “Like the mark of Cain it is, so all who look upon you will know henceforth that you are now fully and completely under God's protection.” he told her. “A blessing! A blessing! Praise God! Amen!” said the little girl over and over again as she danced around the bathroom, picking her mother's skull out of the tub and kissing its' teeth before throwing it back in again. Her father smiled, for he was witness to what he truly and firmly believed was a miraculous occurrence. “Let us found a new religion, then! We need more converts, though... let us go out and bite some people. So they can be free, just like we are.” he so suggested to his daughter, who agreed by saying: “Yes! Oh yes... oh yes, yes, yes! We shall have a very fine flock of fools... and we shall fuck the flock of fools as much as we please, and command them all to bow on their knees to the almighty deity. God commands it! God wills it. Amen!” And after that, the two dressed themselves after cleaning themselves up as best as they could... and went out after victims.
Ursula was far from protected by any sort of god that decent folk might deign to worship! By the very first month of the new year, she and her father had already “converted” countless victims who now did follow after them and their increasingly unhinged teachings... whatever it was that coursed through the boy who Ursula had killed, it now ran rampant through the blood and other bodily fluids of all those as fell prey to the bites, kisses, or sexual intercourse that were forced upon them by those who were in the throes of this unnatural ailment already. The few would go on to infect many, and then many more, and it was not long before an entire community of such individuals began to gather, choosing old ruins, dark caverns, and other forsaken or abandoned places where civilized people would not be likely to even by accident come upon them, unless someone was very unlucky indeed. During the height of the largest of these gatherings, which took place in an abandoned church up in the mountains... Ursula herself felt at last ready to address her cult of depraved, insane followers. She wore a long crimson gown in a style a good deal reminiscent of ancient Greek women's attire, and a roaring bonfire was made up of the pews that once lined the interior of the church. Those, and some of the cult's most recent victims who did not make the cut to be allowed to live and become members. The smell of burning flesh mixed with that of old, burning wood... along with the more heady scent of incense that was ignited in order to make sure that the more horrid scents would not overpower the air. Hundreds of naked revelers gathered outside of the church, in the snow, where a second bonfire was lit and comprised of wood cut from a nearby forest that was filled with mostly evergreen trees, but enough trees of other sorts to make for decent wood for burning. They ran about like savages, the men beating their chests and the women tearing at their hair... some until their scalps bled, others until they had but very little hair left to tear from their heads at all. The children, a good deal of them as young as six to eight years old even, were being cruelly initiated into every manner of perverse activity by the adults chosen to be their educators. No one present felt a bit of the cold air, and that year winter lingered long into the new year even though these once human... and now inhuman... beings felt none of the cold at all. Another blessing gifted by their new condition. In the church, a similar orgy took place whilst Ursula stood at the church's pulpit to address those who came to revel in her honor and bask in her divine favor. And she said unto them: “You came to me, and when you did first become a member of my congregation you were much like innocent babes... as much unaware of what you truly desired, as I once was. Now, you are evolving, changing, becoming like unto a new thing! Even as I have been, all this time, changing. You cannot see the changes in me, but soon it shall come to pass that you will see them... for, tonight, my evolution is about to fully mature. God, has marked me as the chosen of the most holy divinity itself! Even as Cain was marked, before me. Tonight I will become a living goddess, and you my faithful shall witness your own future thereby. Behold, and let your eyes lay without looking away upon my true majesty!” Her father knelt before the pulpit, for he felt unworthy to look upon what was about to be revealed. It was the third hour past midnight, and that night it was dark outside save for the bonfire there, and the bonfire with the church was a welcome bit of illumination as well as warmth for those gathered in that now quite unholy, defiled place. Suddenly, as soon as she was finished speaking, Ursula's face began to split apart when the cross mark upon it did open up with a great torrent of blood gushing forth from such an opening... then, her entire face did fall apart and away, the lower part of the cross-shaped tear ripping downward so that her entire small body fell likewise apart and away like an unwanted suit made from skin. She wisely slid her gown off as this happened, so that what emerged from that suit of skin would be unencumbered. All of her body's flesh, meat, and organs fell to the floor in a truly disgusting, gory mess once the skin was no longer covering it... and instead of bones beneath it all, there was something else. Something truly terrible to look upon! But also beautiful, in a way. It was reptilian in appearance, and still recognizably a child of eleven years of age... but its' body was hairless even upon its' head, and all of it was covered from its' head to toes in scales except for where its' genital area was. And the color of its' skin was blood red. Blood covered it.
The thing that has been Ursula took the discarded dress and wiped as much of the blood covering its' body away, revealing that indeed the scales and the skin were blood red in color “naturally”. Or, what in the case of this creature was to be considered natural. Its' eyes were catlike and glowed with a very eerie greenish glow, and its' mouth was filled with sharp fangs rather than teeth. It's hands were claws as was its' feet, and those claws were exceedingly sharp and cruel looking. It was exactly the same size and the same proportions as Ursula had been... and the overall effect of its' unnatural emerging was such that it seemed to have grown inside of her body and tonight it finally outgrew it at the last and had to emerge primarily because of that. It knocked aside the pulpit that it no longer had any use for, and the reptilian horror looked down upon the man who had been its' father and it spoke unto him, its' voice still totally being Ursula's though with hissing at the use of certain words that began with the letter “S”. And this is what it said unto him: “Father! Why do you avert your gaze from your beloved daughter, who has in all these months become your wife, more than your former wife ever had been? See me! Look upon me! I command you not to avert your gaze any further. Salvation, is what I have come to bestow to all... you should not fear your deliverer. Look upon me, now, and behold your savior! The one who set you free, who set you all free.” And he did indeed look upon her, tears forming in his eyes as he realized that his daughter was now truly lost to him forever... part of him awoke from the madness of the infection that it seemed was destined to doom all present to become like whatever this thing was that stood before him, before everyone within the church. And in that moment, he felt a despair so profound and so deep that it temporarily brought him back to reason once again. “What... what are you? What have you become!” It was all he could do, to say that much to her. No one else seemed to be shaken by Ursula's change... for, all of them were so deep in the throes of their madness that even this could not break them free from it. Her father was not free from it, either, not entirely. Only for this brief moment, and in that span he felt a monstrous amount of remorse for everything he had done since becoming infected... especially for the terrible slaughtering of his wife. And, for what? For this abomination! Yet, as terrible at it was to meet the gaze of the fiend before him, he could not look away from her eyes. Somewhere behind them had to still be Ursula, his daughter, and he wanted to try and reach her before the madness overcame him again and made him forever her slave. “Ursula, please tell me... what are you now?” he pleaded, and she saw that he was becoming like his old self once again. That should not have been possible, she reasoned. In answer to his question, she said in a sinister tone of voice: “I have many names, and have worn so many suits of flesh and skin over the centuries... that names no longer mean as much to me as once they did. I am not of this world, nor of this plane of existence. I come from a place of chaos, without limitations, a place of endless creativity where every desire and every dream that one might secretly or not so secretly have is indulged in without any need for restraint. Once, there were many pathways between that place and this world... but that which you call 'God' put seals upon those pathways so that only a precious few of them remained accessible by the people of this world and usable by me and the others of my kindred who are like unto me. It was needful, over time, to find other ways to cross into your reality from mine. I saw in all too eager human hearts much darkness, much sick depravity, and much twisted insanity... so much so that it bordered on true art. And, as well, human hearts possess always such a great affinity for chaos that they may as well be kindred to our kind likewise. Through a human host, it was possible to walk in this world and influence others who lived in it, I discovered, without entering this world myself in the physical sense. However, your daughter possessed in her so much darkness and the capacity for as many wicked delights as I myself might devise... that, I realized she could serve as a living portal for me to pass through. All it would take, the only key that would be necessary... would be to increase how much darkness was within her until it consumed her whole, leaving nothing left of herself so that in the end I might be able to fill such a void entirely. I chose her over my previous host, when he proved less creatively twisted than I should have liked him to be. And, 'Father'... I am but one of countless like me!”
She further explained: “I have reached out, to my kindred, through their thoughts... and so they are all coming through, by way of those gathered here who shall serve as the living portals for them to emerge through. Naturally, not all who have been infected by the... plague of sorts... that our hosts carry will be proven worthy enough for their bodies to serve in this capacity. Many shall simply remain as they are at present, and you will be one such like that. For as evil as your deeds have been, they are not yet a match for our kind to consider truly of a like mind to our own capacity for such. But that is just as well, for it is needful that we have cattle to feed upon spiritually and psychically when we arrive. As well, we need servants, and slaves, and sycophants to serve us and worship us, that our power over human hearts may grow. Call us Legion... if you must call us anything at all... for we are many!” And the man who had up until that fateful hour been Ursula's father realized that he had been led darkly astray by a demon of the most terrible sort. He thought about what might happen, what the world might be like, once the others of this creature's kind emerged through their human hosts, whichever ones they might end up deciding to use for this nefarious purpose... and he knew that such a demonic invasion might one day overwhelm the world entirely if left unchecked and unchallenged. He asked the creature: “Have you no pity... know you nothing of love at all?” And the fiend admitted to him: “Were I to truly comprehend love at all, sir... I would no longer be capable of creating such art as you see being enacted all about us, in this place. In all the centuries, of my existence... I have never once been loved or felt love for another. Lust, yes, and passion too, but never, ever love I am afraid. None, of my kindred ever have!” The man then asked her, seeing a desperate possibility to save the world emerging: “And... are you still in a communion with the minds of your kindred?” She answered him by admitting: “Yes, yes I am... I will need to remain so until they have all emerged in their entirety, to guide them through the process of their emergence. As I said, they are countless in number and so we shall have to infect more than are present here in order to fully facilitate my race's total domination of this world. That could, as you might imagine, take centuries to see through, if not longer... but my kind are immortal, as am I, so we can afford to be patient.” Just how many were they in number that such a thing could take such an extensively long period of time? Truly, the former father did not want to know. He and the others not fit to become living portals would never live to see the completion of this invasion anyway. He then, suddenly, leapt forward and embraced the creature that had replaced Ursula, lovingly and tenderly, with just a hint of passion to it. “What are you doing?” the thing demanded, and the father kissed the creature upon the cheeks of its' face and upon its' forehead just as a father might kiss their daughter. All whilst holding it in that loving, warm embrace... and all whilst not letting go of her, despite how terrible was her appearance. “I love you, Ursula... even if nothing left of you remains in what I now hold in my arms, all the same I shall not stop loving you. I think you lie though, devil! I think something of my daughter yet remains within you... and I think you fear to be loved because you believe it will make you weak. And so, I shall love you both... the daughter I have lost, and the thing that has replaced her. If only so she may be at peace, and so you might learn at last what it feels like to be loved even in spite of all you are.” She felt it, too... she felt his love, knew it to be selfless and true, and genuine, and she felt the same love welling up within her for him. A vestige of Ursula that she had not been able to stamp out after all. It changed her... and through her thoughts, it began to change all of her kindred... and, they stopped trying to emerge, even as their hosts stopped all that they were doing in order to appreciate what it felt like to be loved and to love another. The orgy did cease at that point, both within the church and outside of it, as lust turned into love, which changed how those engaged in their various depraved acts saw those they were engaged in those acts with. Hearts did fill with remorse for wicked deeds past, and all who walked away from that place come morning would spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for what they had done, to those they had victimized. As the demon fell to her knees in the arms of this human man, she realized she wanted nothing more than to be his daughter, if only to learn more about this beautiful sensation known as love. A new beginning!
She had been perhaps too successful, in her adventure to penetrate the dark manor house that had long laid on rugged the borderlands between the small, nameless village at the end of the road that ran from the great forest that dominated so much of the local region and the crossroads beyond which lay a dense stretch of marshland that continued for a great span in all directions beyond that point. She had properly been warned that such a deed would be beyond the skills of a child... and yet, despite that she managed to do the seemingly impossible. Her adopted parents were both criminals, members of a band of thieves that were often aided by the traveling wanderers whose wagons passed by their home every so often. In those moments, she was told to remain in her room and to neither spy upon what was being discussed... nor attempt to listen in upon what was being said. For to overhear such dealings as took place could be a dangerous thing, especially for a little girl prone to being especially nosy and inquisitive. Her parents would welcome several strangers into their kitchen, and always in the kitchen rather than either the den, the dining room, or the living room... those strangers bearing the swarthy looks of the wanderers, their voices with the distinctive accents that so many of the wanderers' fellows had when they tried to speak in tongues other than their native language. The kitchen was specifically chosen because it was far from any part of the house where the child might be playing, hiding or busying herself with her books, toys, and other diversions. Thus, her parents could be certain that their daughter would overhead nothing by chance that she should not have her ears drawn to. She always saw them entering the kitchen and after that she ran to her room and tried to busy herself whilst the meeting was taking place. Sometimes, she would chance to hear yelling or course words being spoken loudly that she could not quite make out... but aside from that, she never had even the slightest inkling of what was transpiring between those dark strangers and her parents. Sometimes, she would hear her own name being brought up, but whenever it was that this happened she would cover her ears and start singing because she did not want to know at all why they would be mentioning her. Likewise, she never asked her parents what they had discussed, preferring to be a good girl and stay well out of their business. Oh, she knew that her father was a thief and that her mother was probably a prostitute as well as a thief herself... and that they sold stolen goods to supplement their own considerable income. They were wealthy and well to do, though not noble nor of the upper classes of society. If they stole it was likely to make themselves even more wealthy, and to slake a thirst they seemed to have for dangerous doings. It had not always been that way, but in recent years it had become so. She was eleven years old now, and she could remember a time from before this, a time before her parents became enamored with the lifestyle they now lived. A time when no peculiar strangers came to visit them and demand a meeting. He likely would never have left the house at all but for the fact that one day she actually did chance to overhear what was passing between her parents and those wanderers. She had not been trying to, to be fair... but her father was becoming so angry that his voice carried all through the house, and she could hear him in the kitchen screaming: “You shall most certainly not take my daughter away from me... I will pay you what I owe, I swear by all that is holy!” And then her mother began to cry and scream, and she could not hear what it was her mother said. But she could hear one of the strangers' deep voices saying to her father in an equally loud tone: “We shall, and we can either take her with us when next we stop by to visit... or we can take your wife in ways that I suspect you would not like to be forced to bear witness to. The choice is yours! For the time has gone past when money could liberate you from your debt to us.” And she heard her father agree to the man's wicked terms, and that was when the little girl decided it was time to flee and strike off on her own. But she dared not take any of her parents' money in order to do so... she needed money of her own, and she had a mind to steal some from the manor house on the borderlands. A place she had heard her father oft talk about as if it contained treasures he had considered seizing for himself... though always he was too afraid to go anywhere near to it, claiming it was haunted in a way that made it a bad site to burgle into.
As she sat down upon the ground at the base of a massive tree near the edge of the nearby woods just off of the road, the little girl opened the sack she had brought with her and looked upon its' contents. It was a good haul, a decent score! She had a knack for this life, having studied up about it from reading a few of her father's private journals when he was careless enough to leave them open and well within her reach whilst he busied himself in another room of the house in between returning to resume writing in them once more. She never saw within them anything about those wanderers, but she discovered plenty about his and his wife's illicit nocturnal activities. She learned the best methods for picking locks and the best hours to attempt to break into private dwellings... and she already possessed a natural talent for being sneaky and stealthy and going about undetected. She had often crept about the house, practicing and pretending to be living the life of a rogue whilst breaking into locked rooms that should have been forbidden for her to enter. By the time she had made the decision, to burgle that frightful manor, she did indeed quite have a good idea of what she was getting herself into. She wore the black dress, though it was her fanciest dress... the one her mother had picked out for her to wear on somber occasions. It was a beautiful garment! Long, frilly, with puffy elbow length sleeves and a wide open neck area that nearly exposed her shoulders but not quite. It was imported from Paris, apparently... though she now knew that her father had stolen it from a woman he had also raped and murdered when he broke into the house of the lady during one of his nighttime excursions to one of the big cities a goodly distance away. The full horror of it was the victim of this crime had worn that dress when she was herself a child, and she kept it likely for sentimental reasons. That was what her father had wrote of the matter in his journals, and so that was how the little girl had come to learn of it. The aspiring little thief wore under the dress a pair of long baggy black bloomers made of the softest silk, which were all the rage in England though typically they only came in white. These... were custom dyed in order to go with the dress, and thankfully at least these were not stolen but purchased by her mother legitimately. The only black shoes she had, were this pair of fancy dress shoes that she had on right now, with clean white socks to keep her feet warm. Over her hands and forearms she wore the pair of fancy gloves which covered her arms all the way up to her elbows, and these gloves were of a similar soft material as was the dress they went with. The dress she was wearing right now. Around her neck, she was wearing a silver neck chain with a pedant attached to it that held in it a black onyx jewel. The girl herself was remarkably beautiful! She had long black wavy hair and rather vibrant blue eyes. She had quite light skin with a naturally pinkish tone to it, though she was not pale nor in any way sickly looking. Her features were angelic, perhaps even a bit cherubic to be blessed with looking upon. Her lips were full and often when she pouted her father's heart melted from how sweet she looked even when sorrowful moods overtook her. She was stocky built, and of a normal height for a girl her age, she was big boned though happily she had never become overweight. Thanks to her bone structure, she was strong, and thanks to a healthy diet and life lived well she was healthy. It occurred to her, however, as she said looking upon the fruits of her illegal labor... that if she could not find someone to feel sorry for her and take her in, then all the wealth in the would would mean nothing. And though she was smart, she was not wise and had no idea where she should go to next. “If I return to my home, my father will let those strange people take me away. I dare not!” she mused to herself, as she contemplated what to do next. The black cloth cloak she wore over her dress kept her warm, and it was early enough in the autumn season that the first chill and frost of the year had not come to pass yet. It was the nineteenth century, but in this wild part of the world it may as well have still been sometime in a past more distant. Transylvania, was hardly a place well known in the west, and the history of this, her home nation, was quite the long and sometimes dark one. And that darkness was most present in the wilder places of that land, such as these particularly dense woodlands. It was well past midnight, and it was likewise well past any proper little girl's bedtime. Yet, this child was hardly proper! Most children had a more innocent idea of mischief than what she had done this day... this night. This very dark night.
The only light came from the bright harvest moon up above, which had allowed her to see reasonably well despite the dense black shadows all around and about. She was not tired, having slept through the morning... right after breakfast... and well into late afternoon. By the time supper came around, she had already a great deal of energy coursing through her young body. Her parents had gone out once nightfall came, as soon as they believed she was in bed and asleep... and that was when she ran away in order to enact this crime and strike off to seek a new life elsewhere. Often, she had told her father that she truly did believe even a child could break into the forbidding manor and relieve it of its' treasures if any such things it actually did prove to contain. Always, he told her no child could do such a thing! For if he as a grown man feared to... most certainly no child would dare to brave the undertaking. Tonight proved him to have been a bigger fool than anyone knew... for she had done what he claimed she could not, what he was too big of a coward to do. And now, she knew why he had feared that place so! Why it was that no one in all the surrounding countryside ever went anywhere near it. She had paid a dear price... just to be able to come away from the forsaken manor with a good deal of ill gotten goods to show for it. Though, now that she was a distance away from that place, she found that she had nowhere to get away to. That, more than anything, filled her heart with despair and sadness. “And what if the first people I chance to ask to take me in... what if they prove as wicked as my father, or worse what if they turn out to be like those strangers he is in league with?” she asked in her mind, of no one in particular. She closed the sack after removing from it the knife she had brought with her from her family's kitchen prior to departing to undertake the task she had just completed. She looked upon it and saw how it glinted in the moonlight, and remembered what it felt like to wipe blood from it. The little boy she had murdered, the one living in the dark and lonesome manor house on those borderlands... he had not been natural, not human. He had turned out to be a creature of the night of some variety, the stuff of rural legends and tales told in taverns by people who sought to make each new telling of such stories more sensational than the last. Slaying him, had proved to be highly difficult, and he had bitten her hard upon the left shoulder before expiring from the mortal wounding she had managed to deliver unto him. He was not a vampire, and his teeth were not fangs... but even so, he had managed to draw a goodly measure of blood with that all to sharp bite of his. She managed to clean the wound well with some clean water from a pump outside the manor house that remarkably still functioned, and a strip of cloth she had cut from the boy's shirt in order to make some decent makeshift bandages from. After bandaging the wound as best as she could, going by things she had learned from medical books in her family's library back at home, the same as she had learned the best ways to kill a person from... aside from the morbid musings of that sort which her father's journals sometimes contained... she came away from the manor no worse for her ordeal, at least so far as she could tell. The dead boy, she threw down the well behind the manor house before she left for the road once she had made certain first that she had taken everything of value she could carry in her sack. Even as strong as she was, everything had proved more difficult than she would have liked for it to have been... and as she sat beneath the tree contemplating a bleak future, she winced a bit from the stinging pain in her shoulder. “No crime ever goes unpunished, they say!” she said out loud, and on saying that she chuckled in a way that sounded almost mad to her ears. “Well, Ursula, what are we to do next?” she asked of herself, realizing full well there would be no answer to that forthcoming. Ursula for her part was never one prone to delusions, and so she held no imaginings about how things would go in life for her if she did not have a proper plan come the morrow. Then there was the thought that it could be a certainty that her parents would go out to search for her, and that her father might think to check if she had indeed come to the manor house to burgle into it as he had told her explicitly never to even so much as entertain the notion of so doing. His fear of the place would be replaced by determination, as he and his wife searched for their daughter in any and every likely nook and cranny of the land. If only because she was a valuable way for them to pay off their debt when even money could not do the trick.
And, she did not wish to think what might happen of his strange associates discovered her! Likely as not, they would spirit her away never to be seen or heard from by anyone ever again. Weary from worry and the pain of her wound, Ursula allowed herself to fall asleep despite not being all that tired. She did not remember dreaming about anything, and when she finally awoke it was well past midday. She had a bit of a fever, she noticed... for she was sweating profusely, her hair slick with it. Yet, she had taken all the proper precautions with her shoulder to make certain her wound would not get infected! Odd, that it would seem she was taking sick from it despite that. It felt like her shoulder was on fire, and her head felt hot when she touched it. “Like it or not, I need to get home! At the very least, my mother knows a lot about medical stuff.” she reasoned silently in her thoughts, also reasoning: “That, and I honestly do doubt those strangers will be back to take me away just yet. I have until their next visit, to plan my next move.” She would have to stash away her sack quickly as soon as she got home, before her mother or her father could take it from her to see what she had inside of it. She decided she would tell them there was nothing at all in the manor, and that way they would never learn what she had done there. It would be hypocritical of them to judge her for doing things no worse than anything they had ever done, but all the same she needed what she had stolen in order to secure a future for herself elsewhere. Somehow, it was still something she was determined to see through! But that would have to wait until she was better from whatever currently was ailing her. When she got back home, she found the house was empty and sure enough a note indicated that her parents were out searching for her after discovering she was not at home. Luckily, she had time to store her sack in her room, hiding it among all of the clothes and toys in her closet. She laid down upon the bed, feeling suddenly very overcome with weariness again, and her eyes... growing heavier, and heavier, with each passing moment... closed fast, and of their own accord.
Ursula's father shook her firmly, several times over, hoping to rouse her from her slumber. The little girl seemed to be breathing heavier and heavier as her body was wracked by seizures of some sort. Her mother stood nearby, a deeply concerned look upon the young woman's face. The child was foaming at the mouth, and suddenly Ursula's eyes snapped open with her eyes rolling upwards whilst a loud shriek from the girl's mouth filled the air with the terrible resounding of it. Her father suddenly jumped back from the bedside, making the sign of the cross with his hands as he did so. At the same time, his wife... hardly a timid woman... nonetheless screamed at the display before her. “What in the world is wrong? Ursula! What is wrong with you?” her father shouted, but no reasonable answer was forthcoming as of yet. After several long minutes of this taking place, the seizures stopped and Ursula appeared to fall on back into slumber once again... only to awaken moments later. The child appeared to be over whatever it was that had afflicted her up until that point, and her fever was no more. But neither did she speak a word to her parents, who looked upon her worriedly. “Ursula? Are you alright, dear?” asked her mother and then Ursula said something that shocked everyone present to their core. She said to her mother, in the angriest and most wicked tone of voice imaginable for one so young: “Yes, whore! I am fine! Oh, I am beyond fine, you wretched slut of a mother. I feel better than I ever have in my whole little life, and I have such wonderful, magical thoughts going through my silly little mind.” Ursula sat up in the bed as soon as she had spoken thus, and tore off the bandage from her shoulder... revealing the wound to have miraculously healed as if it had never happened at all. With only the blood on the bandages to show for it having ever having been there previously. Her father smacked her across the face, and said to her in a very stern sort of way: “How dare you talk to your mother like that! Wherever, did you learn such foul language, anyway? Certainly not in this house, though you've lived in no other.” To be certain, she had even been schooled at home, and she had no friends or acquaintances her own age who could have been guilty of teaching her how to curse and swear in such a manner. Ursula smiled in a sinister way, and she said in reply: “I learned it from reading your journals, Father. Oh, the nice things I learned from those!”
Then, the little girl licked her lips and said to the man: “Also... you hit good. Really good! I liked it... how about trying that again, only this time you really should give into what you actually wish you could do to me, and rip off my clothes so you can fuck me like a proper little harlot. Like what you did to that poor lady whose dress this was before you stole it from her. I'll bet you fucked her hard... before you slit her throat from ear to ear!” Her father fell silent and gasped, clutching his wife as the two of them stood back well away from their daughter's reach. “What is wrong, Father? Nothing to say, I would say! Well, that only means you know that everything I just said is true and you know it.” Before either of them had the presence of mind to react, their daughter suddenly jumped out of her bed and ran to the closet. Upon reaching for the sack she had stashed away there, the little girl's right hand closed over the sturdy hilt of the knife that she had used to kill that strange boy. Running forward, blade in hand, she stabbed it into her mother repeatedly whilst her father tried to get her off of the woman. He managed to pull her away, and to get the knife from her grasp... but it was too late, though thankfully the wound appeared to be a superficial one at worst. Opening the window, the man threw the knife out of it and turned to regard his injured wife, who was crumpled unto the bedroom floor and crying piteously in pain. “Oh my God! Oh my God, Ursula, what have you done?” he cried angrily, almost clenching his teeth to contain his fury. The little girl returned to her bed and laid down upon it, spreading her legs wide whilst lifting her skirts up. She kept saying, over and over again: “Fuck me, Father! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me good!” And as she said that, she rubbed herself between her legs through her bloomers. Her father carried her mother out of the room in order to go and tend to the woman's injuries, which were bleeding profusely. Blood was on the floor of the bedroom... the blood of Ursula's mother. Once her parents were fully out of the room... the child lunged forward and crept across the floor to all of that blood which had pooled there. Then, she ran her hand over the blood and felt the wetness of it. Taking that blood, she smeared it over her face in the shape of a cross, all the while giggling insanely. “Our Father, who art afraid to fuck his daughter like a whore! Hallowed be thy ruinous name.” She chanted, proceeding from there to recite a profanity filled blasphemy of the Lord's Prayer. She was free now, liberated, able to indulge in all that had been forbidden for her to indulge in previously in life. Such a blessing, the bite that so set her free!
His wife would live, thankfully he had managed to get her wounds stitched and bandaged decently. It was thanks to her verbally walking him through the doing of all that, that she would not get infected or have to be taken to a physician. It had been a painful ordeal for her, given there was no means to lessen the pain of the stitches that her husband gave her... but at least she would not die. “Why did she do that to me? I do not understand what is happening with Ursula!” exclaimed the mother through her tears. As well, her husband exclaimed: “And this comes right after I got our debts paid so we could see the last of those odious people who wanted to take her away from us. Poor timing, indeed!” The previous night, he had successfully abducted a little orphan girl off the streets of the nearest city, a girl who was every bit as beautiful looking as Ursula was. After molesting her vilely, since he felt why not have a little bit of fun sprinkled in with business... he took the girl to the wanderers, who accepted her in place of Ursula. Thus, they agreed that he owed them nothing further, and promised him he would never see them again. What they planned to do with that orphan girl, was anyone's guess... but at least Ursula would be safe at last. That was what her father had wanted, and yet now it seemed that Ursula had gone mad following whatever that sickness was that she had come down with.... tainting what should have been a happy sort of occasion for the whole family. Tainting it with the promise of tragedy, if the little girl's insanity never subsides. “I have heard of certain illnesses that can cause people to behave madly.” the mother did state, fully believing that this was a madness born from natural causes. “Some can be cured, but some cannot be... it all depends on her mind.” she added. “Right now, we need to consider how best to treat what is wrong with her.” the child's father admitted, further saying: “But the Devil take me... I know not how!”
Suddenly, his daughter's voice could be heard coming from the doorway of the bathroom in which her father tended to her mother... right behind him. She exclaimed in a singsong voice: “The Devil is within us all, Father! In me, in you, in the man in the moon too. Do not deny it, you know it to be true! Let me see... I know, I'll set you free, so you can become just like me.” Then, she rushed forward and without a hint of warning beforehand she bit her father very hard on his arm, drawing blood. She let go of him as soon as that was done, and ran off skipping to someplace else in the house. “Oh God! That burns like a thousand bee stings!” he screamed, as his wife shrieked in horror upon seeing what their child just did. “Did you see her face? She's painted a cross on it with blood! My blood.” the mother said, feeling very terrified. “Bloody little barbarian she's become!” shouted the man as he set about cleaning the bite and bandaging it. They had come from England originally, the three of them, and for his part the man had a habit of still using the old turns of phrases that he had been used to for most of his life. He was middle aged, and not about to change certain of his ways simply because of a change of where he now lived. In stark contrast, Ursula mostly only knew the life she lived in Transylvania, having only really spent her first five years of her young life in England prior to her family moving eastward to their new home due to business reasons at first. But for the mother it was also a homecoming since when she herself was a little girl, she had lived in Transylvania before her parents got into a bit of trouble that required them to move, with England being the country they had decided to relocate to. Only her husband, was fully of English blood and ancestry. And when he became angry, it showed! The bite burned horribly... and the man winced from the agony of it, swearing with every curse word and bit of profanity he could muster. “She was never a biter even when she was but a babe! This is very unlike Ursula... to behave in such a nasty, vicious sort of way.” the mother said, trying to reason out why this all was suddenly happening. “I swear to God, if she does that again I'll teach her a lesson she'll never forget.” said the woman's very evidently pained husband. The look upon his face was sinister, and it made his wife begin to feel afraid.
Ursula had never broken her parents' things before, but at present she was feeling quite happy as she smashed expansive vases in the hallway outside the kitchen after having smashed a pile of dishes there. They had been neatly placed upon shelves in the hallway, those vases, and some of them held a great bit of sentimental value to her father, since they had belonged to his mother who had left them to him upon her death. Ah, poor grandmother! She had gone insane, before death finally took her, everyone had said. “I wonder if insanity runs in our family?” the child thought to herself, as she picked up a statue from yet another shelf and threw it as hard as she could at a wall, smashing the statue to pieces thereby. It was a small statue of the Greek god Apollo, very expensive, and definitely Italian. Now, it was rubble! And it felt good to finally see it destroyed. Especially after all the times her father had told her it was probably worth more than she was. This act of destruction, it excited her in ways she had not thought possible, it made her feel ecstatic and high on life. She back into the kitchen, skipping the whole way, and after she got there she took off her gloves and tossed them into the air, this way and that. She then took a knife in hand from out of some drawers in a cabinet next to the stove, and cut a cross into her left forearm. Not hard enough to require stitches, but definitely deep enough that it was going to leave a scar in its' wake. “Forgive me Father, but I love to sin!” she exclaimed, adding: “I am heartily sorry if this offends thee!” And then, she recited more prayers and transformed them into hideously profane verses. She cackled as madly and insanely as you please whilst she cut her right palm and licked the blood from the cut before wiping bloody crosses all over the kitchen walls. She didn't feel pain any longer, she noticed. And if she did, she no longer was able to notice it at the very least. Her inhibitions were gone, and she was able to control her impulses and desires no longer... even the most depraved and terrible of them. She had not ever realized before, how much darkness had been inside of her! It was time to let it all out, to let go of civilized reasoning whilst she embraced a far more primal state of thinking. She began to sing... loudly.
When Ursula returned to the bathroom in order to check in upon her father and her mother, it was the second hour past midnight. She had eaten supper alone by then... consuming raw meat from the kitchen and drinking the blood form the meat as if it were but milk. The taste was coppery, but she discovered she liked it a great deal more than she expected she would. She somehow knew her father needed time in order for the changes inside of him to fully take place... but, she also knew that the span of time was different for everybody. For some it could take more hours than for others, and still others might have a more instantaneous transformation depending on how prone to letting go of their inhibitions they were already to begin with. In her father's case... well, he never had a great deal of self control no matter how he pretended to be so civilized. It would be entertaining, she thought, to see how he was progressing in all this time that she had left him to his own devices whilst the infection within him consumed him full. She walked into the bathroom, and she smiled cruelly at the sight before her, a scene straight out of the most frightful of nightmares. Her mother's body was in the bathtub, which was filled with her blood to the very brim. Her arms and legs had been stripped of their flesh, and her head had been removed from her body with surgical precision. The corpse was naked, her clothing laying in shredded tatters upon the floor in front of the tub. At the nearby sink, her father worked hard with the knife he held at attempting to divest the skull of her mother... of all of its' remaining skin, flesh, and muscle tissue. The now dead woman's scalp was laying flat upon the floor next to the sink, and as her former husband worked at his gruesome task... chunks of her skin and bloody meat fell into the sink and sometimes unto the floor all about the man's feet. He was, for his part, covered in his wife's blood. He still was wearing his trousers, his socks, and his shoes too, but he had taken off his shirt and vest many long and arduous hours ago. About when his fever was becoming at its' worst. Those were thrown into the farthest corner... and were soaked through with blood. He must have begun this grotesque work whilst still afflicted with the fever, and the early stages of his wife's frightful murder he would never fully be able to remember. He could not recall the seizures, the convulsions, and what followed after that... only when his senses came back to him as much as they could or ever would again, only then did he realize what he was doing. And he realized that he was enjoying himself immensely! After all, his wife never would have understood what he was now anyway, and what he intended to do with their daughter. “I feel your eyes on me, girly! And I know what you want me to do to you, too. Mm, I know it so well, so well, so well!” he said in a much deeper tone of voice than he normally used. “Remember a couple of years back when I used to come to you in the night and feel your cunt with my hands while you slept?” he asked Ursula, and she did thus answer her father by saying: “I never told Mother about it, either! You never told me not to, but I never told her anyway... because I liked it. I was always a dirty, naughty little girl, wasn't I?” And, deciding at last that his work was complete... the father tossed the bloody skull of his wife into the rub with the rest of her remains. It was not fully carved clean yet, but it did not need to be. Good enough, for that whore! He thought to himself those words, as he walked towards his daughter with a vile intent. She licked her lips lustily, as he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom where he closed the door behind them prior to throwing her down upon her bed. “Time to fuck, little bitch!” he said to her as a bit of drool did drizzle down out of the corner of his mouth. She was already lifting up her skirts and gyrating so lewdly for him... he looked at the soft, silky material of those bloomers she was wearing, and he could not wait to tear that material and rip it with his hands as he tore them off of her, which is what happened as soon as he got on top of her. He was like a great beast looming over the little girl, whilst she lay submissively on her back to receive every cruelty that she knew he was going to unleash upon her virgin body. “You never fucked me, back then!” she said, adding: “Fuck me now! Fuck me like the slut my mother was.” And once her bloomers had been fully torn away from her by her father's hands, he removed his pants and undergarments and he threw them across the room. The shaft of his manhood... that hard, throbbing cock between his legs... was erect and threatening as the man wedged himself between the child's legs.
He wedged himself there, his hands upon her thighs to keep those lovely young legs of her wide apart. And then, he put his cock inside of her maiden cunt whilst she giggled and laughed with abandon. Had she not been changed to feel pain no longer, it would have hurt a great deal when she was penetrated in the way that she was, penetrated for the first time in her life. She bled, when her virginity was taken by her father, and felt a bit of tearing as it happened. It should have hurt, but it did not... though she felt all of the pleasure from it that was to be expected. That was how this transformation worked, it enhanced everything pertaining to pleasure, even as it made it impossible to feel pain. Even as it turned people to their darkest of their own hungers and thirsts, to their most twisted of their wants and dreams. All of the things you try to bury so deeply, it brings forth! And so it was that Ursula's father was driven to fuck his very own daughter without even a slight hint of hesitation. He licked her face as he did thrust in and out of her in a primal rhythm, yet he was cautious not to injure her in any way. For as twisted as his desires were in regard to Ursula... he also desired never to see her come to any lasting harm in life. Even so, he was hardly gentle in other respects with her! He clawed a bit at her chest at one point, and so sharp had his fingernails become since he stopped cutting them several days ago... well become he even dreamed that this might someday be a reality for him... that he scratched her bloody doing that. She nibbled upon his earlobes when he loomed in close as he neared his passion's climax, and then bit his shoulder a little before he began to move faster in and out of her. She soon felt his warm seed shooting into her, and he continued to fuck her after that until she herself achieved a rather ferocious orgasm that made her body shudder as it happened. “Oh, Daddy!” she cried out at the height of her ecstasy, and he was chuckling as he grunted for the last time before withdrawing his cock from her. He took some of her virgin's blood... and he he licked it with his fingers. “You will not be a daughter anymore for me.” he said to her, and he added after that: “You will be my wife, from now on!” They kissed passionately, and then got a couple of tools from the tool shed in the back yard that they used to file their teeth to fanged points once they returned to the bathroom to make use of the mirror there, so they could be certain the effect was just as desired. “Why a cross, daughter?” her father asked as he traced his pointing finger along the mark upon Ursula's face after the twisted couple had finished working upon their teeth and all was as they wanted it to be with them. She then said to him after giggling so much that it was practically a fit: “I did that... so God will see it, and that upon seeing all that I do... God will weep. I did it to get God's attention, just so I could make the almighty deity cry.” And then, her father so said to her in a somewhat philosophical response to that revelation: “What, makes you think God would not approve? God, is cruel! Like in the Old Testament. God likes blood, death, rape... and sacrifice! Especially if they are done in God's name.” Ursula laughed and giggled even more on hearing all of that, and in between her giggling she exclaimed joyfully whilst skipping all about: “Then God must love me! Oh, and you too. And so... I love God too! You hear that God? I love you too!” She tried to wash the cross off her face after that, and all the dried blood came away perfectly... although underneath it her skin was permanently discolored in the reddish shape of it. “I think God liked what I had to say.” she said to her father as he noticed the bizarre mark. “Like the mark of Cain it is, so all who look upon you will know henceforth that you are now fully and completely under God's protection.” he told her. “A blessing! A blessing! Praise God! Amen!” said the little girl over and over again as she danced around the bathroom, picking her mother's skull out of the tub and kissing its' teeth before throwing it back in again. Her father smiled, for he was witness to what he truly and firmly believed was a miraculous occurrence. “Let us found a new religion, then! We need more converts, though... let us go out and bite some people. So they can be free, just like we are.” he so suggested to his daughter, who agreed by saying: “Yes! Oh yes... oh yes, yes, yes! We shall have a very fine flock of fools... and we shall fuck the flock of fools as much as we please, and command them all to bow on their knees to the almighty deity. God commands it! God wills it. Amen!” And after that, the two dressed themselves after cleaning themselves up as best as they could... and went out after victims.
Ursula was far from protected by any sort of god that decent folk might deign to worship! By the very first month of the new year, she and her father had already “converted” countless victims who now did follow after them and their increasingly unhinged teachings... whatever it was that coursed through the boy who Ursula had killed, it now ran rampant through the blood and other bodily fluids of all those as fell prey to the bites, kisses, or sexual intercourse that were forced upon them by those who were in the throes of this unnatural ailment already. The few would go on to infect many, and then many more, and it was not long before an entire community of such individuals began to gather, choosing old ruins, dark caverns, and other forsaken or abandoned places where civilized people would not be likely to even by accident come upon them, unless someone was very unlucky indeed. During the height of the largest of these gatherings, which took place in an abandoned church up in the mountains... Ursula herself felt at last ready to address her cult of depraved, insane followers. She wore a long crimson gown in a style a good deal reminiscent of ancient Greek women's attire, and a roaring bonfire was made up of the pews that once lined the interior of the church. Those, and some of the cult's most recent victims who did not make the cut to be allowed to live and become members. The smell of burning flesh mixed with that of old, burning wood... along with the more heady scent of incense that was ignited in order to make sure that the more horrid scents would not overpower the air. Hundreds of naked revelers gathered outside of the church, in the snow, where a second bonfire was lit and comprised of wood cut from a nearby forest that was filled with mostly evergreen trees, but enough trees of other sorts to make for decent wood for burning. They ran about like savages, the men beating their chests and the women tearing at their hair... some until their scalps bled, others until they had but very little hair left to tear from their heads at all. The children, a good deal of them as young as six to eight years old even, were being cruelly initiated into every manner of perverse activity by the adults chosen to be their educators. No one present felt a bit of the cold air, and that year winter lingered long into the new year even though these once human... and now inhuman... beings felt none of the cold at all. Another blessing gifted by their new condition. In the church, a similar orgy took place whilst Ursula stood at the church's pulpit to address those who came to revel in her honor and bask in her divine favor. And she said unto them: “You came to me, and when you did first become a member of my congregation you were much like innocent babes... as much unaware of what you truly desired, as I once was. Now, you are evolving, changing, becoming like unto a new thing! Even as I have been, all this time, changing. You cannot see the changes in me, but soon it shall come to pass that you will see them... for, tonight, my evolution is about to fully mature. God, has marked me as the chosen of the most holy divinity itself! Even as Cain was marked, before me. Tonight I will become a living goddess, and you my faithful shall witness your own future thereby. Behold, and let your eyes lay without looking away upon my true majesty!” Her father knelt before the pulpit, for he felt unworthy to look upon what was about to be revealed. It was the third hour past midnight, and that night it was dark outside save for the bonfire there, and the bonfire with the church was a welcome bit of illumination as well as warmth for those gathered in that now quite unholy, defiled place. Suddenly, as soon as she was finished speaking, Ursula's face began to split apart when the cross mark upon it did open up with a great torrent of blood gushing forth from such an opening... then, her entire face did fall apart and away, the lower part of the cross-shaped tear ripping downward so that her entire small body fell likewise apart and away like an unwanted suit made from skin. She wisely slid her gown off as this happened, so that what emerged from that suit of skin would be unencumbered. All of her body's flesh, meat, and organs fell to the floor in a truly disgusting, gory mess once the skin was no longer covering it... and instead of bones beneath it all, there was something else. Something truly terrible to look upon! But also beautiful, in a way. It was reptilian in appearance, and still recognizably a child of eleven years of age... but its' body was hairless even upon its' head, and all of it was covered from its' head to toes in scales except for where its' genital area was. And the color of its' skin was blood red. Blood covered it.
The thing that has been Ursula took the discarded dress and wiped as much of the blood covering its' body away, revealing that indeed the scales and the skin were blood red in color “naturally”. Or, what in the case of this creature was to be considered natural. Its' eyes were catlike and glowed with a very eerie greenish glow, and its' mouth was filled with sharp fangs rather than teeth. It's hands were claws as was its' feet, and those claws were exceedingly sharp and cruel looking. It was exactly the same size and the same proportions as Ursula had been... and the overall effect of its' unnatural emerging was such that it seemed to have grown inside of her body and tonight it finally outgrew it at the last and had to emerge primarily because of that. It knocked aside the pulpit that it no longer had any use for, and the reptilian horror looked down upon the man who had been its' father and it spoke unto him, its' voice still totally being Ursula's though with hissing at the use of certain words that began with the letter “S”. And this is what it said unto him: “Father! Why do you avert your gaze from your beloved daughter, who has in all these months become your wife, more than your former wife ever had been? See me! Look upon me! I command you not to avert your gaze any further. Salvation, is what I have come to bestow to all... you should not fear your deliverer. Look upon me, now, and behold your savior! The one who set you free, who set you all free.” And he did indeed look upon her, tears forming in his eyes as he realized that his daughter was now truly lost to him forever... part of him awoke from the madness of the infection that it seemed was destined to doom all present to become like whatever this thing was that stood before him, before everyone within the church. And in that moment, he felt a despair so profound and so deep that it temporarily brought him back to reason once again. “What... what are you? What have you become!” It was all he could do, to say that much to her. No one else seemed to be shaken by Ursula's change... for, all of them were so deep in the throes of their madness that even this could not break them free from it. Her father was not free from it, either, not entirely. Only for this brief moment, and in that span he felt a monstrous amount of remorse for everything he had done since becoming infected... especially for the terrible slaughtering of his wife. And, for what? For this abomination! Yet, as terrible at it was to meet the gaze of the fiend before him, he could not look away from her eyes. Somewhere behind them had to still be Ursula, his daughter, and he wanted to try and reach her before the madness overcame him again and made him forever her slave. “Ursula, please tell me... what are you now?” he pleaded, and she saw that he was becoming like his old self once again. That should not have been possible, she reasoned. In answer to his question, she said in a sinister tone of voice: “I have many names, and have worn so many suits of flesh and skin over the centuries... that names no longer mean as much to me as once they did. I am not of this world, nor of this plane of existence. I come from a place of chaos, without limitations, a place of endless creativity where every desire and every dream that one might secretly or not so secretly have is indulged in without any need for restraint. Once, there were many pathways between that place and this world... but that which you call 'God' put seals upon those pathways so that only a precious few of them remained accessible by the people of this world and usable by me and the others of my kindred who are like unto me. It was needful, over time, to find other ways to cross into your reality from mine. I saw in all too eager human hearts much darkness, much sick depravity, and much twisted insanity... so much so that it bordered on true art. And, as well, human hearts possess always such a great affinity for chaos that they may as well be kindred to our kind likewise. Through a human host, it was possible to walk in this world and influence others who lived in it, I discovered, without entering this world myself in the physical sense. However, your daughter possessed in her so much darkness and the capacity for as many wicked delights as I myself might devise... that, I realized she could serve as a living portal for me to pass through. All it would take, the only key that would be necessary... would be to increase how much darkness was within her until it consumed her whole, leaving nothing left of herself so that in the end I might be able to fill such a void entirely. I chose her over my previous host, when he proved less creatively twisted than I should have liked him to be. And, 'Father'... I am but one of countless like me!”
She further explained: “I have reached out, to my kindred, through their thoughts... and so they are all coming through, by way of those gathered here who shall serve as the living portals for them to emerge through. Naturally, not all who have been infected by the... plague of sorts... that our hosts carry will be proven worthy enough for their bodies to serve in this capacity. Many shall simply remain as they are at present, and you will be one such like that. For as evil as your deeds have been, they are not yet a match for our kind to consider truly of a like mind to our own capacity for such. But that is just as well, for it is needful that we have cattle to feed upon spiritually and psychically when we arrive. As well, we need servants, and slaves, and sycophants to serve us and worship us, that our power over human hearts may grow. Call us Legion... if you must call us anything at all... for we are many!” And the man who had up until that fateful hour been Ursula's father realized that he had been led darkly astray by a demon of the most terrible sort. He thought about what might happen, what the world might be like, once the others of this creature's kind emerged through their human hosts, whichever ones they might end up deciding to use for this nefarious purpose... and he knew that such a demonic invasion might one day overwhelm the world entirely if left unchecked and unchallenged. He asked the creature: “Have you no pity... know you nothing of love at all?” And the fiend admitted to him: “Were I to truly comprehend love at all, sir... I would no longer be capable of creating such art as you see being enacted all about us, in this place. In all the centuries, of my existence... I have never once been loved or felt love for another. Lust, yes, and passion too, but never, ever love I am afraid. None, of my kindred ever have!” The man then asked her, seeing a desperate possibility to save the world emerging: “And... are you still in a communion with the minds of your kindred?” She answered him by admitting: “Yes, yes I am... I will need to remain so until they have all emerged in their entirety, to guide them through the process of their emergence. As I said, they are countless in number and so we shall have to infect more than are present here in order to fully facilitate my race's total domination of this world. That could, as you might imagine, take centuries to see through, if not longer... but my kind are immortal, as am I, so we can afford to be patient.” Just how many were they in number that such a thing could take such an extensively long period of time? Truly, the former father did not want to know. He and the others not fit to become living portals would never live to see the completion of this invasion anyway. He then, suddenly, leapt forward and embraced the creature that had replaced Ursula, lovingly and tenderly, with just a hint of passion to it. “What are you doing?” the thing demanded, and the father kissed the creature upon the cheeks of its' face and upon its' forehead just as a father might kiss their daughter. All whilst holding it in that loving, warm embrace... and all whilst not letting go of her, despite how terrible was her appearance. “I love you, Ursula... even if nothing left of you remains in what I now hold in my arms, all the same I shall not stop loving you. I think you lie though, devil! I think something of my daughter yet remains within you... and I think you fear to be loved because you believe it will make you weak. And so, I shall love you both... the daughter I have lost, and the thing that has replaced her. If only so she may be at peace, and so you might learn at last what it feels like to be loved even in spite of all you are.” She felt it, too... she felt his love, knew it to be selfless and true, and genuine, and she felt the same love welling up within her for him. A vestige of Ursula that she had not been able to stamp out after all. It changed her... and through her thoughts, it began to change all of her kindred... and, they stopped trying to emerge, even as their hosts stopped all that they were doing in order to appreciate what it felt like to be loved and to love another. The orgy did cease at that point, both within the church and outside of it, as lust turned into love, which changed how those engaged in their various depraved acts saw those they were engaged in those acts with. Hearts did fill with remorse for wicked deeds past, and all who walked away from that place come morning would spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for what they had done, to those they had victimized. As the demon fell to her knees in the arms of this human man, she realized she wanted nothing more than to be his daughter, if only to learn more about this beautiful sensation known as love. A new beginning!
Published 16th Dec 2023
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27th Feb 2024 3:44am
I only just finished reading this now... been reading parts of it on and off all day here and there... and wow babe that was one heck of a terrific ride through some very dark territory! The idea of a demonic possession plague that manifests everything a person normally holds back, and just makes them lose all inhibition and control is really cool stuff, and the elements of body horror you tossed in at the end were very creepy and very extreme, and that made it all even better and somehow cooler than how I was expecting things to turn out. I kept thinking there was gonna be an exorcism or a cure or something, but the route you took was totally unexpected and it just blew me away big time. The most disturbing part, and the most profound, is that everyone effected by those demonic entities in the story or whatever the heck the deal was with them... they were gonna have to live with everything they did while "infected" for the rest of their lives, and that's heavy stuff to consider because it technically was all the stuff they'd always held back from doing but which was part of the dark side of their nature all along. So they couldn't say "Oh, I'd never do that!" because while normally they might not... under the influence of what happened to them here, they most definitely did. Which makes the demonic influence in this story so much more sinister and insidious than demons in most stories like this... it isn't wholly the demon's evil at work, but the person affected by the demon, it's the person's evil. And that makes it a whole lot scarier cuz people in real life can lose control too and we all have those things in us that we don't always let the world see or know about... so yeah, it's both supernaturally scary and true to life at the same time, which makes it crazy good stuff. I loved it! And I love you, of course, Kara my babe.
I thought the ending to this twisted little tale of mine would be shocking, and it is good to see it was indeed precisely that. I wanted to give it a kind of a happy ending, but also a tragic one at the same time, so I came up with a way to blend both into something bittersweet and yet genuinely sweet but with the sinisterness of everything that preceded it remaining strong. So, it was a bit of a balancing act there, but one that paid off nicely! Yeah, I had a mind with this story to turn the whole concept of demonic possession quite a bit on its' head by having the dark side of humanity itself be at the forefront... rather than it being exclusively the demons' doing. It turned out very well, if I might say so, and indeed the whole concept I came up with made everything a lot scarier than if it was just demons doing the dirty work with the humans affected remaining blameless. In this story, no one is entirely blameless, nor is everyone wholly guilty either, it blurs the line between good and evil and tosses expectations and the normal conventions of such things right out the window to great dramatic effect. We do indeed all have within us a dark side we don't always let others see, but it doesn't always end up being a bad thing... just like in this story, even all through the darkest darkness we can still reach and obtain a measure of happiness if we strive for it. Glad you enjoyed this story! I love you too, my little goddess. :)
