Zycra's Inferno

A rumble shook the entire palace as the enormous gavel struck down on a metallic plinth.

“NEXT!” resounded a terribly strong and powerful voice.

The eternally long waiting line, awaiting to be judged, slowly advanced by one step. All of the damned souls were waiting to pass through the Doors of Misfortune, where their fate would be decided by the Supreme Judge of Hell: Menocles.

Under a hellish dark sky and a horizon filled with gray, lifeless clouds, Gaziv Nopakchupak-vril-Nayolik nervously clutched a fold of his stringy beige tunic as he wondered how he could have landed in such a terrible place. The most terrible place of all the Creation, he recalled. On his shoulders laid an onerous burden which had plagued his life. Never a moment, in all his life, did he stop regretting having done that mistake. And now that he was in Hell, he was forevermore chagrined by his misfortune.

“There must have been an error,” he murmured out loud.

The person in front of him, a villainous obese man, tired of his sempiternal complaints, turned at him.

“You've been repeating the same thing over and over again since you arrived here! Three more people and you're next on the hotspot, fella. Is this really what you're gonna say to defend yourself?”

“I didn't ask for your advice,” calmly replied Gaziv with empty eyes.

“Jeez, you're done for, man. I've had a lot of time to prepare my plea and I will get away with it easily!”

“If that's what you think...”

“It's not what I think, it's what I-”

“AAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

“NEXT!”

The line mechanically made another small step forward.

“The poor gal. Well he ain't gonna take a piece of me that's for sure, or my name isn't Ytoff Meyachev. Hear me pal? My plan is perfect, all I need to do is get his attention.”

“And what if you don't?”

“What do you mean 'What if I don't?' It's completely out of the question. I will get to him, and he will send me to heaven. I deserve it; it's my right.”

“What have you done to land here?” Gaziv asked to politely continue the conversation, not really caring for an answer.

“Eheh, I was the most reputed gambler in all my homeworld,” he said with obvious pride.

“You're here for gambling money? That's not too bad.”

“I didn't gamble money, idiot. I gambled slaves, any kind of slaves, working slaves, house slaves, deluxe slaves, sex slaves. Slavery is a big deal on my planet, everyone does it. Well, if you're not a slave that is!” he laughed out loud.

“What world would that be?”

“Balfrezagg. You certainly have heard of it. A charming red-sunned planet.”

“Doesn't ring a bell.”

“Come on, you must have. We are reputed for our mines full of precious stones, mines stretching as far as the eye can see.”

“Nope.”

“Anyway, there I was famous. People would come to me to get advice on their slaves. You know, hidden signs that only an experienced eye could see. You know what I mean?”

“Definitively” Gaziv rolled his eyes.

“I tell you, what's the difference between an obedient slave and a runaway slave?”

“Tell me” Gaziv said after a moment of silence.

“No, no, you gotta guess!”

Gaziv gave a desperate look filled with impatience – Ytoff, finally relenting, answered:

“Okay, okay: the eyes! A runaway slave will always have that strange, odd-looking gaze. You know, one filled with hopes and dreams? The work of a slaver is to break these eyes, so they can become just as lifeless as... well, as you!”

“Balfrezagg seems like a wonderful world. Remind me to never set foot there, ever.”

A woman's scream pierced the air, followed by another loud rumble, comparable to a thunder strike.

“NEXT!”

Gaziv saw the man in front of Ytoff slowly advance towards the judge, trembling from head to toe.

“I hope he warms him up for me. I can't believe I'm next. I'm finally getting out of this never-ending line of tightly packed jerks and morons. No offense to you.”

“I'm sure he'll see you're as innocent as a newborn puppy,” Gaziv said, sarcastically.

“Aren't I? Plus I've practiced my sad face and my happy face. You know, to stir up emotions?”

“Yeah, judges have a reputation of making emotionally passionate decisions, especially this one, I'm sure,” said Gaziv, pointing at the tremendously tall, indestructible Doors of Misfortune, made in a strange alloy of dark bronze and sinister steel. Faintly, they could hear the words that were exchanged inside.

Menocles, officially referred to as Menocles the Great Judge, or the Supreme Judge of Hell, looked more like an ancient deity from a forsaken pantheon than an actual judge. Always wearing a red and blue gown and a golden amulet around his collar, Menocles was easily distinguishable by the two dark holes he had where his eyes should have been. He was also one of the oldest being of all the multiverse. And yet, he had the strength to smash his gavel strong enough to make the whole place tremble. Lost in his thoughts, Gaziv quickly came back to reality when he heard the man crying over his fate.

“No! No, you can't! You can't! I've done nothing wrong! Nothing wrong, you hear me!? NOTHING!”

“May you suffer in peace,” concluded Menocles.

“NO WAIT! I SAID WAIT! I-I-I-WILL DO ANYTHING! DON'T SEND ME THERE, DON'T! DON'T!!!”

Menocles banged his hammer on his desk, followed by another earthquake. The Doors of Misfortune slightly opened in a loud creak, and Gaziv got a good view of the Great Judge. He was a very old-looking, very long bearded man. His hands and wrinkled face withered abominably with countless pustules. Sitting behind a monumental desk, he held a gavel in his right hand and a feather in his left, ready to write in the biggest book he's ever seen. A small cloud of smoke floated in the middle of the auditorium, where the previous soul has been sent to his damnation. Ytoff looked at Gaziv, suddenly unsure, but then they heard:

“NEXT!”

Instinctively, Ytoff advanced towards the massive desk, gulping down his saliva, ready to face his destiny. The heavy doors closed behind him. Still, Gaziv could clearly hear the entire discussion.

“Hello sir-judge. I am Ytoff Meyach-”

“Ytoff Meyachev the 402nd, you've been summoned before me for gambling, slave trafficking, murder and adultery. What do you plead?”

“I-eh what? I-what? M-murder? I've never, in all my life...”

“What do you plead,” insisted the cavernous voice of the judge.

“Eh well err- I... Well... Not guilty?”

“Not guilty. An expert will examine your case, then.”

“Oh... great. May I speak with him then?”

“You are speaking to him.”

“You? But you can't be the expert, you're the judge! That-that's a conflict of interests! Where's my lawyer!? I want my lawyer! A court official!"

“You don't need a court official.”

“Yes I do! Yes I do!”

“The balance will now scale your soul, if you'd be patient.”

“Patient? What do you mean, patient? This is a court of justice and I demand to be represented fairly and squarely.”

“You are. What better representative than your very soul, filled with all the good and bad consequences of every actions you took. I'm more of a functionary than a judge, if you want my opinion. I file the sentences and finalize them.”

“File? How can you file them when you have no eyes! You can't even see me!

“The balance finished weighing your soul. I will now render the sentence. Any last words?”

“Wha-last words? I didn't even have the chance to defend myself! What is this masquerade!?”

“Ytoff Meyachev the 402nd, you are hereby sentenced to an eternity in Hell. May you suffer in peace.”

Menocles raised his gavel and, understanding his precarious situation, Ytoff tried to run. In vain, as Gaziv heard a loud “BANG” followed by another earthquake. The Doors of Misfortune opened:

“NEXT!”

Gaziv was close to fainting from his nervousness. Nevertheless, his legs found the strength to make him advance before the enormous desk of the judge. He heard the doors shut behind him. In the vast circular auditorium, a ponderous silence almost made the ambiance unsupportable.

“Gaziv Nopakchupak-vril-Nayolik,” began the blind judge, listing his one crime in an empty voice before adding: “What do you plead?”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty? This is rather surprising.”

“What will happen to me in Hell?”

“An eternity of suffering, maybe less, probably more.”

“And what after? asked Gaziv.”

“I do not have the authority to answer this question.”

“You do not have the authority to answer this question, yet you can sentence people to an eternity in Hell?”

“It is the authority I've been given, yes. Or I wouldn't be sitting behind this table.”

“And who gave you this authority?”

“I do not have the authority to answer this question. I will now render my sentence. Any last words?”

Gaziv mummed the same words he has mummed since his arrival in this realm, remembering the details of his horrible crime:

“There must have been an error...”

“Gaziv Nopakchupak-vril-Nayolik, you are hereby sentenced to an eternity in Hell. May you suffer in peace.”

And in the blink of an instant, Gaziv disappeared from Menocles' Palace.

***

Hell was recognized as the most dangerous realm of all the multiverse. By far. Demons of all sorts, lustful succubi, dreaded elementals, fallen angels, obedient minions, everything in this dimension were suitable for providing an eternity-long calvary. Originally comprising of the Nine Circles of Hell, the realm expanded over the past millennia. Satanic warlords were granted ever-growing palaces on the only condition that they fulfill their “demonic duties”, many of which interpret them differently. In other words, demons were free to roam around Hell as long as they respected the moral obligations underlying such a place of torment and eternal suffering.

All of Hell is interconnected through a vast network of portals, like many worlds. They are easy enough to cast that any demon knows how to summon one instinctively, if one knows where to go. Sizes and colors of portals always varied from one demonic entity to another, a science not yet theorized but ordinarily explained as being due to the caster's personality. Still, they all served the same purpose: fast, easy travel through the immensity of Hell.

Hell was also known as being home to the largest black market ever imagined in all the dimensions. Not only did souls gather to Hell, but also some precious artifacts filled with magical powers naturally eventually found their way in the hellish pits. All of which, sooner or later, ended up in the hands of the powerful warlords tyrannically reigning over their heavily guarded palaces. However, Hell was created as an infinite labyrinth, and only a few knew their way around. Unfortunately, getting your hands on a coveted object was practically impossible as demons are renowned gamblers and many artifacts changed hands quickly.

Castles, dungeons, palaces, all these places could make a good, lasting shelter for wandering souls; as one would think it was easier to hide inside a palace than outside in open-land. There lies one of the terrible illusions of Hell, as these were the most terrible and most dangerous places of the Land of Eternal Fire. Hungry succubi particularly loved it when a prey would present itself at their doorstep, followed by a ton of fun toying with them before gobbling them up in their cavernous mouth, completely consuming their soul through painful digestion. Being swallowed alive was probably the most common way to die in Hell, although what would eat you was subject to variation. Many gigantic monsters also roamed in the devastated wastes, some of them ending up tamed and used for sporting events (the most prestigious of these events being the Wild Hunt, where every demonic entity would gorge itself up of many souls as it could support. The succubus Menyssan has been the undisputed champions for centuries, her stomach making short stuff of the hundreds of thousands of souls she has devoured). But one thing monsters and demons had in common was a mutual enjoyment of bite-sized squirming humanoids sliding down their throats. A feeling many other dimensions also shared.

The Gloomy Plague was home to a well known demon named Gryjiel the Nefarious. Since he was amongst the first demons to have gained the rights over a domain, a few eternities ago, his house was also home to one of the most notorious black markets in all of Hell. Some demons even claim to have visited the red market, Gryjiel's own and very secretive collection, hidden deep in his castle. The demon was also a monster collector, keeping hundreds of them in his personal dungeon.

It is not far from the main entrance of the Gloomy Plague that a pale orange portal appeared in mid-air. A bare foot, followed by a bare leg and then a giant, naked, brownish body emerged from it. Zycra Zordford was the daughter of the infamously strong and powerful Dragon Arch-Demon Zoreng Zordford, from the Branoos realm, and his evenly terrifying wife Laleiss, a silver succubus known for her persuasive skills in rhetorical arts and charming trickery. Zycra, much like her father, had a golden-brown skin and was a fire succubi. Thus, she was a particularly skilled fire spell-caster and possessed immunity to heat. Always in a happy mood and cheerful humor, her optimism was rarely disturbed. Her cheerfulness was equaled by her perkiness and pestiferous arrogance. She also owned another particular trait of fire succubus: her very, very long and stretchable tongue. Zycra was remarkably skilled in manipulating her tongue in all sorts of serpentine motions, easily twisting it in impossible ways. Almost acting as a third arm, she found it easier to catch her prey, any of them, by wrapping her tongue around her snacks before bringing them straight back into her mouth. Large, dark, demonic wings decorated her back, just as black as the long ponytail flowing down to her buttocks. Two pairs or small gray horns peeked from atop her head, as sharp and pointy as her pearly white fangs. Her ears were much like that of the Dark Elves, long and leading to a sharp point, with few round edges. A tribal tattoo, representing her family's crest, decorated her left arm. Her appearance was completed by a pair of hypnotic amber eyes and a tall, slim body well in shape and health.

On her shoulder, keeping his balance by grabbing a lock of her dark hair, was a human. Named Konta, he was one of the rare humans Zycra preferred to keep than to eat, although their history together demonstrated the exact opposite. Dressed in light-armor, Konta was easily recognizable by his blood-red hair and a scar that lined up vertically over his left eye. He also had a remarkably powerful fire-sword, capable of cutting through practically anything. All around him, an aura of a pale blue light protected him from Hell's harsh atmosphere for a mortal not dead yet, a simple spell cast by the giant succubus. Not particularly skilled in magic, Konta could still manage casting a few spells by himself, like fireballs or simple telekineses. When she was in the mood, his succubus friend would help him refine his techniques. Before meeting Zycra, Konta was a fierce soldier until his arrival in Felarya, where he chose to become a merciless mercenary, mostly working alone, participating in many different operations throughout the jungle-world. Then he met the amber-eyed succubus, under the form of his actual sword. Careless, the succubus got herself trapped inside the magical weapon. After he freed Zycra, his role suddenly changed. They befriended each other, both growing used to the presence of one another. Gradually, a mutual bond of respect emerged between the two, and from that day on, they considered each other as equal beings or, more simply put, as friends. And it is in such a friendly manner that Konta, right beside the giant succubus sharp ear, kept saying:

“It's a bad idea. A very bad idea. Bad, bad idea.”

“Oh stop it,” replied Zycra as she advanced towards the closed gates.

“You've had many bad ideas in your life, but this one is clearly the worst of all. It's a really, really bad idea.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I will find exactly what I'm looking. And maybe you'll never get a piece of it, if you continue.”

“Yeah, if only I knew what it is you're looking for, I could tell you how much worse of an idea it is, and how much we should go back where we came from. I don't say that often, but I feel much safer in Felarya!”

“If you were so scared, you shouldn't have come. All I did was extend you an invitation for a fun lil' trip.”

“You didn't invite me for a trip! You told me you had a surprise for me. You... You tricked me into coming to Hell!”

Konta, from his point of view, could clearly see Zycra grinning with all her teeth bared, her cheekbones stretching happily.

“Maybe I did. So what? Hell is a wonderful place to be! It has a lot of amusement parks” she counted on her fingers, “and lava, and castles, and slaves, and food and... food. It has everything for a demon's basic need!”

“For a demon! I'm human! This place is not suited for mortals!”

“I didn't know you could be so easily scared, Konta-the-Warrior. It's my home! Nothing bad will happen to us.” Then she gently poked his tiny body. “You need to relax!”

“Relax? Relax? I... You... Look, just try not getting us killed.”

“We won't die,” she reassured him, before adding, pensive: “At least I won't. Maybe you will. It's not important. Remember Konta: death in only the beginning. Have I ever told you what would happen after your death comes?”

“You've told me a thousand times, at least. And my answer stays the same: later.”

“Suit yourself,” she smiled.

All around them, the extremely dried land occasionally spat poisonous, sulfuric gazes in the air. The black clouds and glaucous horizon affected Konta's moral, giving him an impression of endless despair. A few meters away, he assisted to a bizarre scene. A deep red toad with black spots and three horns noticed a rat-like creature with chicken legs and long pink tail. Immobile, the half-demon half-amphibian shot out its sticky tongue at the smaller evil being, successfully hitting its prey. It quickly brought the squealing rat into its maw and savored it, the tail of its morsel squirming frantically outside of its mouth. From nowhere, an infernal half-bat half-eagle passed like a shadow over the toad. Sharpened talons grabbed the red and black creature and instantly flew off with its dinner. Not far from there, a three legged small cat with owl eyes accidentally fell off in a crevasse which spat an opaque heated-gas in return, instantly consuming the mutant animal.

“So, where are we heading, exactly?” asked Konta, slightly disturbed by the scenery.

“Gryjiel's domain, The Gloomy Plague. I'm looking for something that is there. I think...”

“You think? Why don't you know, instead? Why don't you ever know! And what the Hell are we looking for!”

“You'll see. And watch your mouth, some demons are pretty... sensible of the ears. Especially Gryjiel. Don't say the H word in vain.”

Konta mumbled a few words and sat on Zycra's shoulder.

“This is a bad idea.”

“We're here!” she cheerfully announced.

In front of them stood the entrance of Gryjiel's domain, a metallic gate twice as big as Zycra. Either side of the entrance, a fence stretched indefinitely to the horizon.

“Why don't you just use your wings and fly over?” quipped Konta.

“It's not as simple” she responded. “There's a magic field all around. And there's something I got to do first...”

Zycra put Konta on the ground and concentrated for a few seconds, using her innate fire power to engulf her whole body in fire, before casting it away an instant after in a flash. Her body was now covered in a hellish black and infernal red dress that covered her breasts to mid-thighs, highlighting her feminine curves. She curiously decided to remain bare-footed.

“Nice costume. Planning to scare some child?”

“Gryjiel is a perverted, dirty old demon, and an eccentric one too. He always wears flashy colors and dresses the succubi he employs as housemaids and other weird things. This,” she showed her demonic dress, “is only for mystery. Last time I saw him was when I was almost fully grown-up and... The less he sees, the better, trust me.”

She gently picked up Konta and put him back on her shoulder. Then Zycra casually knocked on the gate. After a few instants, a voice, coming from nowhere, addressed to the succubus.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“Zycra Zordford. I'm here to meet Gryjiel the Nefarious.”

“Do you have an appointment with master Gryjiel?”

“Nope,” she said with a naive smile.

Konta face palmed himself.

“A moment please.”

And after a moment...

“Mistress Zordford” continued the invisible voice “master Gryjiel is honored to welcome you into his humble residence. He'd like to greet you personally in his Hall of Despair.”

“I gladly accept his invitation! Care to show me the way?”

The gate emitted a metallic cling before slowly opening, revealing a little, dwarf-sized flying imp, a bit smaller than Konta. When he spoke, Zycra realized the voice she was hearing was his, only he was hidden behind the magical gate.

“Welcome to The Gloomy Plague, mistress Zordford. I'll be your guide for today.”

Then the imp noticed Konta on her shoulder and winced.

“And this is...?”

“A friend of mine,” Zycra said casually. “Is there a problem?”

“I don't think master Gryjiel will be pleased to hear that-”

“I don't care what Gryjiel sees fit or not. This human is with me and under my protection. You better tell that to your master.”

“As mistress Zordford commands” bowed the imp.

Then he motioned at the immense castle behind him, which the fence surrounding the property had magically hidden from view unless inside its perimeter. Zycra smiled as she followed the tiny imp. She was certain to find what she was looking for.

***

Gaziv momentarily traveled through a tiny split in time and space, traversing many dimensions in a flash of colors before being sucked back in his soul-body. Instantly, he was tossed around in a very unpleasant manner as he was being squished in the bottom of a what seemed to be a leather sack. There was absolutely no light, but he knew he was with other doomed souls, in the same bad position as he was. All of them were squirming in fright, anticipating the worst. So was Gaziv, who, in his unexpected position, could barely imagine what could happen to him. This was Hell, after all, the great land of eternal suffering. He sighed as he remembered his fetish words:

“There must have been an error,” he whispered.

They were all bulging and squirming like helpless, frantic flies caught in a spider's web. Being on the bottom was probably a good thing, he thought. At least he would not suffer first, that was for sure. It slightly comforted him, though he presumed he probably wouldn't last very long.

Suddenly, they all felt the feeling of being lifted into the air, as they realized they were being carried. Some screamed, some cried. The whole pack was scared to death. Reason had left them. Then, they heard someone whistling a merry little tune. Light filled the pear-like sack as a demon opened it, not even taking a look at its contents. He plunged his hand in the sack and lazily closed it around two souls.

Gaziv couldn't see a thing, but he clearly heard a door opening by itself in a loud creak. The poor two souls frightfully screamed, and then were cut short by a slamming door. Everyone heard it, everyone knew something horrific just happened, and that they were next. The sack wiggled about from their desperate movements, but that didn't stop the demon from taking three more souls. This time, Gaziv saw the red hand with dirty, pointy nails wrapping around the damned, lifting them up in the air. Next, he heard another door opening, followed by a cavernous gurgling sound. And then an ominous silence. A long one. The door quietly closed and locked itself in a calm, disturbing way. They could only guess what could have happened to the three souls who mysteriously disappeared in total silence.

A now slightly more agitated Gaziv could see the red-brick ceiling above him, meaning he was potentially a candidate for the next door's monster. The hand didn't pluck near him, but it did get a grasp on three new souls. Another door opened and this time, Gaziv saw the horror.

The demon just held the two women and one man above his head. All of a sudden, two very thin tentacles emerged from the open door. Gaziv gasped as he saw purple stings emerge from the dark yellow tentacles. Swiftly, it pierced through two of the bodies the demon was holding, causing them to shriek in pain as they were lifted in the air and quickly drawn in the chamber, disappearing forever. The sound of bones crunching echoed in the passage whilst the poor, lonely soul cried in fear as he saw scene from his point of view, as well as the monster itself – clear as day, as it emerged to feed. Then his eyes widened in fear and before he could make a single noise, the last soul was thrown in the air by the demon. Gaziv, immobile in the bag, saw a much bigger, wider, hairy tentacle with teeth at the edge engulf him in mid-air. And the door closed itself softly.

Seven of them were left, Gaziv counted. It was now easier for him to notice everyone, even if it would only be a matter of minutes before they all disappear. He was surprised to recognize a few cubits away the obese Ytoff Meyachev, the one who was in front of him in the line, in the same bad position as he was. Ytoff had seen him too, but none of them were able to sustain Sunday courtesies. Beside him, another soul had succeeded in piercing a little hole in the bag with a small knife. It wasn't enough to escape, but it was a good start.

The dreaded sound of a door opening happened again, and this time the demon took two of them, including the one with the knife, carrying the precious weapon with him. Gaziv shivered as he felt the heated skin of the demon against his leg. Being right next to the hole, he got an exclusive view on the next torture scene.

Unlike the others, the demon chained them and, snapping his fingers, grew them to the same size as the red-skinned satanic figure. Noticing the knife, he confiscated it and threw it away. At first, they didn't understand; the demon forcefully pushed them into the room, laughing through the process. He entered the room with the sack, and Gaziv only got glimpses of what was awaiting inside, but what he saw frightened him even more. An enormous pale red dragon in an enormous room filled with high pillars made of marble. The dragon had white and yellow colors on his belly and big black bat-like wings on its back. The beast was awakened by the noise, but its eyes immediately focused on the new treat it was being offered. The demon, still laughing, snapped his fingers once more, creating a magic barrier between him and the souls, trapping them with the dragon. Gaziv saw, image by image, the fate of his companions. Not waiting one more second, the dragon hurled itself at the two morsels and opened its mouth wide. Before they could move, the dragon completely engulfed one of them in its gaping mouth, breaking the chains at the same time with its sharp carnivorous teeth. The dragon straightened up, its prey still in its mouth and, with a few pushes of its forked tongue, swallowed the screaming soul whole. The remaining treat had nowhere to run as the room was circular and the magic field created by the demon covered the entire room. He nonetheless tried to run behind the dragon as he heard the soul being swallowed with a very unpleasant gulping sound. The dragon's tail tripped him up and he fell down on his side. The last image Gaziv saw of him was the extreme fear that passed through the person's gaze as the immense, watering mouth of the dragon, filled with sword-like teeth, towered above his tiny figure, ready to eat him alive as well. Then the door closed.

Laughing and whistling at the same time, the demon realized that there was no other doors left. It happened sometimes, doors appeared randomly in the passageway to feed the multiple creatures his master possessed, before disappearing after some seemingly random period of time, though he rarely knew what to do with the remaining souls each time. He sighed as he grabbed the human right next to Gaziv and opened a portal.

“There,” he said, throwing the soul into the portal, “Second Gate of Hell. Have fun!”

He looked in the bag and, smiling, took another one in his hand.

“Let's see... Oh yes!” he laughed, touching the portal. “The freezing desert of Acheron! Eh eh eh, they say a soul can't die of freezing, it's just an endless suffering, save that you are alone, and no one will ever find you. It has been kinda snowy these past millenia...”

And he threw the poor old man into the portal.

“And for you,” he said, picking up Gaziv. “I think I have just the right thing for you...”

The poor soul tried to break free of the grasp of the demon, but there was nothing he could do. He had abandoned hope when, surprisingly, the demon straightened up in a kind of military way.

“Yes, master!” he said out loud.

He was listening to a voice inside his head.

“No master, only feeding your pets some souls, master!”

Then Gaziv saw him roll his eyes and agree with his superior.

“Alright, master. I'm on my way, master.”

The demon looked at Gaziv and said, before tossing him in the almost empty bag:

“You're lucky master Gryjiel is receiving a host. I had better plans for you.”

***

The Hall of Despair, Zycra found, wasn't far from the gates. She followed the little imp to the main doors of the castle, which the small creature opened for her, then he guided her through the palace until they arrived in a great red hall filled with golden tapestry, all harboring motifs of great military stories. Zycra could sometimes feel Konta sighing or mumbling inaudible words. She knew he wasn't scared, but she also knew, by his vibe, that he was a bit ill-at-ease being in this particular place. Konta was maybe a warrior, but against magic, particularly from demons, he stood no chance. The succubus laughed inwardly at the thought of all the impossible situations she had put him through since he delivered her.

Zycra marched behind the little winged-demon on a soft carpet with yellow, red and blue patterns. She resisted the temptation of crushing the tiny Gustave (the imp's name) under her bare foot, just to make him shut up about all the glorious things Gryjiel the Nefarious had accomplished in his past and his rambling description of each stone they passed. While they were walking, she could sense Konta's curiosity as she too noticed all of the small animals and insects that swarmed the floor. Most of them were directly looking at Konta, smelling his fresh blood, but wouldn't dare approach Zycra.

“What are they?” asked Konta.

“Cursed spirits, for the most part, sometimes we call them pawns. There is an infinity of them in Hell. They wouldn't hesitate tearing you apart for dinner,” she answered with a smirk, torturing him. “I don't think you'll be bothered.”

Konta sighed as he grabbed the handle of his sword in a defensive manner.

Halfway through the hall, Gryjiel appeared in a cloud of pink smoke right in front of his majestic red and gold throne, elevated from the rest of the hall by a small staircase. Gryjiel was taller than Zycra by two heads. His face barely had any remnants of recognizable features or figure due to all of the scares that butchered his face. His demon horns were huge, violently winding above his head. Dressed, as Zycra had guessed, in an eccentric manner, he wore a light blue and flashy yellow gown, with a red and purple chain around his waist. He had dark glasses before his eyes and wore no shoes, too. Gryjiel seemed very pleased about the succubus' presence.

“Mistress Zordford,” exclaimed the demon in an elegant manner, bowing to her. His voice sounded like a steel flair striking a metallic eructing tonorion. “Such a delightful surprise to greet you here between these walls. You should have warned me of your visit, I feel bad for such an improvised reception. A member of your illustrious family deserves much, much better.”

“I'm not here on behalf of my family, Gryjiel. I only represent myself,” she responded warmly – with a slight hint of her naive smile.

“But you do possess the name of your family,” he insisted, disappearing from his throne and then reappearing beside her in another pink cloud that almost made her cough. “The only child of the mighty Zoreng Zordford and steel-minded Laleiss. You even bear your family's coat of arms.”

With a claw of his, he softly stroke Zycra's shoulder, admiring her beauty. It was then that he noticed Konta, on her shoulder, who was looking at him in a strange way.

“Yyyuck!” exclaimed Gryjiel in disgust. “You brought your human pet with you! These things stink!”

He pinched his nose and waved at the air around him while Konta smelled his armpit in confusion.

“He's not my pet,” replied Zycra, stroking Konta's body.

“Maybe, maybe, but I don't want him around. Just put him there,” he pointed at a shelf not too far from them, beside his throne.

She nodded picked up Konta, asking him: “You gonna behave?”

“Sitting my ass on a giant-sized demon table, I don't think I'll have a choice.”

She warmly smiled at him and carefully deposed him on the surface turning her attention back to Gryjiel. Alone on his promontory, Konta noticed that many of the creatures were amassing beneath him, on the ground below. He looked at Zycra, who was already walking away, not giving him further attention. Looking back at the creatures, he saw that a goo-like human-sized spider was climbing the shelf. He unsheathed his sword.

“What can an illustrious representative of your family be doing so deep in the nothingness of this part of the world? And how can an humble demon like Gryjiel the Nefarious win the favors of the Zordford clan?”

“I'm looking for a particular object,” she simply responded with a sly grin, glancing towards him.

“Ah! An object!” he disappeared then reappeared a few meters ahead of her, leaving small clouds behind him. “How many times have I heard this? You've come to the right place, Zycra Zordford! I have a ton of objects. Objects that people would pay a lot to have.”

He gazed at her, searching for any flinches or signs of hesitation; but she remained firm, still grinning innocently.

“But first!” he clapped his hands and teleported himself right in front of her. “Let me offer you some refreshment before we conduct business. Thirsty, hungry?”

“Mostly hungry,” she hummed, stomach rumbling in agreement.

“It's on it's way,” he said, taking a few moments to communicate telepathically with his servant. “Now, tell me more about this... 'object' of yours.”

“I'm looking for a Jar of Silkurnis. You must have heard of it.” The prospect of food made her empty belly gurgle.

“Yes, yes, I have,” he said, stroking his right horn. “Magical artifacts created by Arch-King Silkurnis the Gluttonous so that he would never die of starvation. He made a ton of them just to be sure. They can materialize any food you can think of... Only once per jar. You're looking for a rare treat, aren't you?”

“Yes, precisely,” Zycra's eyes shined. “I need one.”

“I think I have a couple somewhere, I'll have to send a demon to fetch it. Oh, speak of the angel!”

A demon carrying a small leather sack appeared from a vortex next to the throne. Zycra's eyes suddenly flashed with freshly born voracity, as she heard noises coming from the bag, her mouth instinctively watering as her pointy ears twitched.

“You summoned me, my master?” said the demon, kneeling.

“Yes, yes, put the bag there,” Gryjiel pointed at a table not so far from Zycra, close to the stairs leading up to one of the palace towers. “Also, I'll need you to check the vault. I'm looking for a Jar of Silkurnis. Do it quickly.”

“As you wish, master.”

The demon set down the bag, bowed once again and disappeared through another vortex.

Konta, in his precarious situation, was slashing with all his force through the goo insect crawling towards him. Every time, it was like slicing through water, and Konta was running out of solutions. A fall this high would probably break a few important bones of his and he couldn't resort to calling Zycra for help. She'll never cease to harass him. He faced the mutant spider, but then it was distracted when, behind the arachnid, something that seemed to be a strange mixture between a felaryan chlaenas and a neko's hair ball also made its way on top of the shelf. Konta, even though he wasn't a skilled magician, managed to cast a small red and yellow fireball in his hand and quickly threw it towards his new foe, burning it painfully – causing it to fall off the shelf to its doom. Konta looked down below and saw the hundreds of enemies coming towards his position in a chaotic and eager manner. He sighed and held his flaming sword with both his hands, ready to face them all.

Further from Konta, Zycra was completely unaware of her friend's problems. The succubus wasn't far from the slightly bulging bag, filled with tasty prey, and she had her eye on it. While Zycra was distracted, Gryjiel approached her once more.

“As for the price...” he started.

“We'll talk price when I see you have the object, not before,” she retorted, her attention directed at her future lunch. She could have sworn she heard someone using the H word.

“As it pleases your grace,” he nodded, slightly annoyed by Zycra's bad manners. “If I may not be too indiscreet, may I ask why you want a Jar like this?”

Zycra was about to answer, but her eyes caught a small, interesting detail on the table to her left. She did see, indeed, a hand followed by an arm making its way out of the bag. Losing interest in Gryjiel, she opened her mouth and lashed her elastic tongue out, striking at the small arm trying to make an escape. She vigorously wrapped her tongue around the arm, trapping her prey. With the strength of her pink muscle, Zycra, smiling as the taste of the soul already filled her taste buds, lifted out of the bag a frightened woman who was utterly shocked at the sudden attack. The succubus lifted her prey high into the air, the human-soul screaming, and tossed her into the air to get a better grip on her next meal. Stretching her elastic organ even more, she reached for the falling human and, dexterously, coiled her tongue around the poor woman, reducing her chances of escape to zero. Completely wrapped around by the succubus' wet, warm tongue, she groaned in frustration as Zycra quickly drew her inside her awaiting mouth. Happy with the renewed taste of a delicious soul, Zycra happily sucked on the woman. She looked towards Gryjiel - who had seen the entire process - and sucked on her prey harder, gazing right into his eyes in a very sensual manner. Wetting the little human inside her mouth with lewd sounds, she partially parted her lips, revealing her glistening teeth and, behind them, a small, panicked creature who immediately crawled towards the light. She did make it halfway out of Zycra's maw but, in a moan of enjoyment, the succubus wrapped her prey within the grasp of her serpentine tongue once more. Taking her time, she slowly brought back her meal's legs inside the entrance to her giant-sized body, then her belly, then her torso. Her flailing, waving arms came next, her head turning this way and that as she desperately wriggled her shoulders. Casually enjoying her meal's frantic movement, Zycra completely curled her tongue around the woman, thoroughly licking her face with the tip of her tongue. A muffled scream echoed, only to disappear forever as Zycra entirely drew her back in, this time sealing her lips shut. She enjoyed sloshing her before knocking her entire body on the roof of her palate, heavily sucking on her taste. The flavor was that of the sins that earned her a stay in Hell, but had not justified a prolonged punishment reserved for darker souls. Spicy, tangy, juicy, the taste was amplified with the fear the woman's soul emitted. When mixed together, they produced a one and only taste set to that person's specific taint. After having thoroughly explored every inch of her body with her skilled tongue, she knocked the woman against her palate again, just for the fun of it, before swallowing her whole. A lump passed down Zycra's throat as she exhaled in satisfaction.

“Quite impressive,” noted Gryjiel.

“You don't know how much I missed their taste” she licked her lips. “Here, humans always tasted so differently, so...”

“Unique. Yes, they make a remarkable treat. Especially when one is starving. There is more, if you like.” Gryjiel was unsatisfied with the way this transaction was going, but he felt he had to be the most excellent host to maintain his reputation across Hell.

“Oh thanks! Actually, one is never filling a stomach. It just hints at how much another one would be perfect.”

“Be my guest,” he pointed both arms towards the bag, bowing slightly.

Zycra licked her lips, tasting the last remnants of the woman's sin. She then stretched her tongue, just like she did before, only this time she plunged her tentacle-like organ directly into the bag. Laughing as she felt the humans inside struggle for their souls, she circled her tongue around an ankle and withdrew it from the bag. Genuinely curious about her new prey, Zycra noticed how fat he was. She smiled even more, his unique flavor filling her tastebuds, so different than the previous she had, and yet still excellent. But this human wouldn't be eaten so easily, she noticed, as he rapidly broke off Zycra's grip and fell on the table, beside the leather sack. Enjoying her fierce opponent, Zycra told him:

“Beaf my tsongue in single com'bat, n' y'u're free to go!”

“Wha-”

The man was brutally punched in the chest by the succubus tongue, falling again. He quickly got up and readied his fists as his pink, quivering foe was about to strike again. He nimbly dodged her frontal attack, punching the spongy surface. He sighed as he saw how little damage it did. Zycra launched her tongue at him again, purposely missing his left flank. The man, gaining confidence, never saw his error until it was too late. Zycra's tongue, much more agile, came back behind him, passing between his legs. The poor soul realized how easy he has been defeated and could only prepare himself as the giant, wriggling member pushed his leg aside, making him fall on her wet tongue. Laughing at her easy victory, she lifted him high in the air, like he was laying on a deadly red flying carpet and malevolently surrounded his whole body within the grasp of her moist muscle. In all her lustiness, Zycra was slowly, carefully bringing him into her gaping mouth, awaiting his butterfat body. She recognized the salty taste of slavers, with a touch of adultery - an exceptional treat. Her lips mischievously curled into a seductive smile, as the man frantically fought against her tongue's solid grip on his body. Giggling, she only straightened her clutch around his body, amused by his spirit. He continued fighting as he fully entered her enormous, wide-open mouth, strands of saliva decorating the pink interior of her deadly, cavernous maw. The man had a burst of energy when he noticed the uvula hanging above her throat, and the dark drop leading deep down her body. The succubus unrolled her tongue off his body and began tasting him more thoroughly. She welcomed his arrival into the entry of her mature body with a long, thoughtful lick. To her delight, her prey continued his wrestling match atop her tongue, thrashing around vigorously. She merrily replied to his attacks, coating him in the same time with her sticky fluids, constantly swishing him aside within her mouth, wrestling back and winning easily. She had full power over him, and there was nothing he could do to avoid his fate. Zycra drained more and more of his energy, exhausting him, sucking dry his strength. Above all, his delicious taste was putting her in a joyful mood. She pushed him to the front of her mouth and let his head slide between her lips, slithering her tongue underneath him as if it were a mattress. She exercised a pressure with her youthful lips over his head, as a goodbye kiss, and slurped the obese man back in. Zycra kept playing with him all around her mouth for some time before she tossed him inside her cheek, swallowed her accumulated saliva, brought him back on her tongue again, only to knock him hard a few times against her palate again, to mock him, to let him know she was the victor and him, the loser. She swallowed his squirming body without giving it any further thought. She put a finger on the big lump he created when traveling down her esophagus all the way down to her stomach, where he would meet his other friend already waiting for him. She sighed in contentment.

“Now that was tasty! Where did you find these?” she said, patting her belly.

“A little deal I made with Menocles. An offer he couldn't refuse.”

“And he fills your domain with fresh souls?” Zycra was genuinely surprised.

“Much easier than gathering them from out there, in the wastelands, don't you agree?”

“I guess it's a good idea. You won't tell me how you did it, will you?”

“You're a demon yourself, miss Zordford. You already know the answer. In Hell, everything is possible if you have..."

“...the right thing to trade,” she completed, mocking his saying with a movement of her hands.

“Speaking of trade,” he said, putting both his hands on her frail shoulders. “Don't you think maybe it's time to negotiate the price? A Jar of Silkurnis is a very rare object and-”

“I already told you, Gryjiel, when I see it with my own eyes, we'll talk. Besides...”

“Besides..?” inquired the demon.

Zycra's stomach gurgled.

“I wouldn't mind another soul. Just one tiny itchy-pitchy last,” she said, pinching her thumb with her index.

“Even if you're attitude is unpalatable, by all means, miss Zordford,” he said bowing again.

It is then that Zycra let out a small shriek of surprise, while Gryjiel stroke his horn in confusion. On the table, the leather sack containing the last soul had just disappeared.

***

“I'm Holena, who are you two?”

“Ytoff Meyachev.”

“Gaziv.”

The only three remaining survivors were still agitated after all they've seen thus far. None of them knew what “Acheron” or “Second gate of Hell” meant, but they knew they could have to face a similar fate. Being transferred somewhere else would give them the time to plan their escape and be effective about it. The top of the sack, with their strength combined, was reachable. But not while the demon was walking. They had to wait, so they talked about a step by step plan.

“I have an idea,” began Holena. “We will make a human ladder. Ytoff, since you're the heaviest, you'll be at the bottom, with Gaziv on your shoulders, and me on his. Once I reach the outside, I'll find a way to save you two.”

“Sounds like a stupid plan,” said the obese slaver. “What's in it for me, huh?”

“What tells us you'll come back for us?” added Gaziv.

“I don't think we have a choice. I know I can't support either of your weight on my shoulders, and certainly not yours,” she pointed at Ytoff Meyachev. “I'm sorry guys, I just think it makes sense for me to get out first.”

“Don't take me for a fool, girl! I'll have you whipped for you insolence!” he said in a burst that shook his triple-chin.

“If I were you, I'd escape first chance. Why should I trust you?” dubiously asked Gaziv.

“If you were me, what would you answer? Come on boys! I mean, what choice do we really have, here? You've seen what awaits us all. It's probably our only chance to get the hell out of here.”

“And then what?” asked Gaziv.

“That's a problem for later. But first off, we need to get out of here,” Holena clapped her fists together, pumping her energy up.

This is when they heard the demon's voice speaking:

“You summoned me, my master?”

“Yes, yes,” replied a cavernous voice, “put the bag there. Also, I'll need you to go check in the vault. I'm looking for a Jar of Silkurnis. Do it quickly.”

“As you wish, master.”

The three survivors felt they were being carried before abruptly landing on a solid surface. The demon walked away from them, lighting a fire in Holena' eyes, a fire that spread to Gaziv and Ytoff as well. This was their chance. They were so little, they would probably all go unnoticed. Holena's plan could have a chance of success, after all. If she was true to her words.

They heard a portal being cast, and then a discussion began between the weird-sounding older demon and a younger, more normal, feminine voice. But they didn't have time to listen, as every second was precious.

“Once I get out of here, I promise I'll help you two,” solemnly said Holena. “On my honor.”

“Enough of that and get on my shoulders already,” Ytoff grumbled, kneeling slightly to help Gaziv.

Gaziv nodded at him and easily climbed on the sponge-like shoulders of the Frezaggi slaver. Holena had a more complicated time finding her balance and climbing her two companions, but she was finally able to precariously stand up on Gaziv's shoulder. Freedom was nigh.

“I can almost reach it,” she said, stretching her arm to its maximum. “So close, so close...”

Ytoff rose on his tiptoes in an ultimate effort, giving the woman a few more centimeters. These were just enough as she was able to grab the edge of the sack.

“I made it!” she whispered at them

“Great, now get the Hell out of there and help us out!” replied Ytoff.

Holena nodded as she grabbed the edge with her other arm, pushed herself up and was able to get her arm past the edge of the sack. She was almost out when, suddenly, out of nowhere, a pink, serpentine tentacle quickly rolled itself around her arm, causing her to shriek in surprise. She panicked when she realized she couldn't get her arm out of the grip, and let out a high-pitched scream when she was quickly lifted high up in the air. Both Gaziv and Ytoff were shocked when they saw Holena being tossed in the air like a mere toy, before seeing her whole body being wrapped with what they now saw as a giant tongue. A moment later, she was being carried out of their field of view, but they clearly understood where she would end. Their ears caught the noise of a feminine laugh as Holena was being devoured alive.

“What now!” yelled Ytoff, shaking Gaziv's shoulders.

“I...I...we...”

“Let's just push the damn thing with all our strength! Just push! Ready? 3,2,1, ram!”

Ytoff was slowly losing it, Gaziv noted. Still, they rushed with all their might on the opposite direction where they saw Holena disappear, hoping they were close to the edge of the table. The first hit did nothing, but the second time, they noticed they had pushed the bag for at least a few centimeters. Ytoff's weight was a great help to their desperate plan. A spark of hope was still visible in their eyes. They continued, unaware of the discussion happening in the hall, and mostly unaware of the female's lethal intention. When light disappeared from within the bag, Gaziv and Ytoff looked above to see, in horror, the enormous tongue entering the bag, searching for a new meal.

“NOT ME! NOT ME!” screamed Ytoff.

And then he punched Gaziv hard on the stomach, making him fall on his knee.

“What the hell are you-”

“I WON'T DIE LIKE THIS! YOU ARE!”

Ytoff threw another punch at him, but Gaziv, much smaller and quicker than his opponent, was able to dodge the slaver's attack. Gaziv responded with a kick right between the legs of his new foe. His face turned blue and his eyes widened in the pain. Gaziv knew he lacked honor, but his opponent was way bigger than him - in Hell, there were no more rules. He jumped on Ytoff, dominating him and about to punch him more when he felt the tongue stroking his legs, searching for a prey. A shiver ran through his entire body and, quickly, Gaziv switched place with a still wincing Ytoff Meyachev. The latter now had his back facing the opening, and the dreaded moist muscle. The smaller soul felt crushed by the slaver's heavy weight, but his plan worked as the tongue wrapped itself around Ytoff's ankle. His eyes widened again, but this time in fear as he realized he was caught. He screamed in both fright and pain, trying to hurt back Gaziv, but it was too late. He was quickly lifted up in the air, madly squirming against his fate.

Gaziv heard the feminine voice talking briefly to Ytoff, but he couldn't give it any attention as he was absolutely certain that if there was to be a next prey, it would be him. This time, he had been lucky, lucky and disloyal, but still alive and with a chance of escaping.

With all his might, with all his strength, he continued to push on the leather sack. He could hear the woman enjoying Ytoff's taste and it almost made him gag. He continued pushing, and pushing, and pushing, tackling the bag as hard he could. One centimeter at a time, he was getting closer to freedom, he knew it. Then it finally happened. Under his feet, he could feel the bag give way to open air, meaning he was at the table's edge. With one final effort, he pushed with all of his weight against the leather, and gravity did the rest. The fall did hurt him a little, but surprisingly, he was still well enough to move. The sack had fallen on its length in a muffled noise; he crawled until he reached the exit and, without even thinking, ran straight to the staircase in front of him.

It would have been easier to go down, but Gaziv could only go up – and he had a very bad memory of what he saw in the dungeons. Fortunately for him, the stairs were easy to climb even for a tiny like him in a gigantic palace. When he was about to reach the top, he heard a terrifying discussion happening downstairs:

“Look, the bag is under the table! Clever little soul, it probably escaped that way.”

Few words were quickly exchanged before the feminine voice added with a playful giggle:

“Be right back.”

Gaziv nearly fell as he saw the shadow of a succubus heading directly into the staircase. He shook his head and ran until he reached the top. From there, he could go left or right, down two seemingly identical halls. Having no clue and no time to think, he headed down the left side. It was a corridor, filled with many dark doors in a dreary mix of red carpet and hard brick, with color shades varying from plum to aubergine. So few torches lit up the way, it was impossible for his human eyes to see if there was an end. The same thing applied when he turned back. Trembling, unsure of what do to, he just ran straight until he found, quite by miracle, a gap on the wall on his left, just big enough for him to enter. He looked back another time, making sure he hadn't been seen. Seeing no one, he entered the gap quickly.

The small gap revealed itself to be a small tunnel leading into one of the many rooms. When he reached the end, he allowed himself to smile. He was under a table and on the opposite wall to him was a four-poster bed draped with red and blue silk, many, many pillows scattered across the room on the soft red carpet surface and, it almost brought a tear to his eye, a window. Reaching it was probably very dangerous, as it was directly over the shelf beside the bed. Strangely, there was a maid costume lying on the shelf, but he brushed the thought aside. He couldn't just wait there inside a wall for the impossible to happen. He had to risk it. He breathed in and ran on his tiptoes.

He didn't even make it two steps when a large, warm hand scooped him up from above. Squirming in protest, and cursing himself for being so stupid, he quickly rose, finding himself face to face to a fire-succubus. Green eyed with short blonde hair, with red streaks mixed in, she was hungrily looking at him. Tall and slim, her body was that of a young woman in her twenties, only she had two silver wings with blue reflections decorating her back and a pair of pointy horns emerging from her head. Crouching on her knees on the table, she had been waiting for him to move out the tiny tunnel. He probably wasn't the first one who fell for the trap.

“Well, well, well. What is this?” she grinned. “A lost little soul seeking refuge?”

She poked him with her free index finger, causing him to tremble.

“Let me go!”

“Oh, I'll let you go, don't worry about that. Do you know how delicious you smell, lil' mousie? I smelled you the moment you came upstairs.”

She stroked her tummy as she rose up, giving Gaziv a sudden burst of vertigo. She was enormously tall, and to notice he could fit perfectly into the palm of her hand made him feel completely powerless. Was this the end? Was it over? He couldn't think much about his ongoing fate as he suddenly felt being slowly licked over the back of his head. He quivered, frightened, as big strands of saliva came down under his neck and over his face, covering his eyes and blinding him.

“Oh, I'm sorry little soul,” she said with false apathy. “Here, let me help you.”

She lay on the bed, and held him above her face. She playfully opened her mouth and let out her elastic tongue, this time licking him all over his tiny body, wetting every part of him very slowly. She clearly enjoyed toying with him, as she saw he was losing hope more and more. Gaziv's chances of survival were dramatically falling. The dark equation behind Hell. He was bound to end terribly and suffer for his sin, his haunting error.

“I don't think you'll be needing these anymore,” said the succubus with a giggle as she tore off his clothes with a very sharp claw.

When she let out her long, stretchy tongue from her mouth, Gaziv didn't react, even when it came tickling his feet. The succubus, trying to get him moving, gave a few slaps on his legs with her tongue, making him dangle like a bell. Then she wrapped her serpentine member all around his legs, stabilizing him. She enveloped him until the muscle reached his arms, curling her tongue upwards across his naked body. She released him from her fingers, leaving him completely at the mercy of her pink third-limb. She rocked him from left to right, laughing in the process. She clearly saw she was making him dizzy, and decided to coil her long tongue all the way up to his torso. He could only move his head and arms, which he held high, as if he was sinking in quicksand. He could clearly see her very sharp fangs, as sharp as those of a dangerous predator, and squirmed in fear as he recalled the horrible bone-crushing sound he heard while in the dungeons. He tried, in a last attempt, to break free of her tongue. But it was already too late for him. Or was it?

All of the sudden, the door slammed open, almost exploding, and a feminine silhouette wearing a black, elegant dress erupted from the passageway. At first Gaziv only saw a long, dark, flowing ponytail falling from her back. Both hands seated on her hips, she was of a golden-brown skin color with amber eyes. On her left arm sat a strange tattoo, that he would never get the meaning of.

“What the heaven are you doing!” yelled Zycra at the blonde succubus.

“Zycra Zordford?” the blonde succubus recognized the heir of arch-demon Zoreng Zordford. Her elocution was altered due to speaking with her tongue around Gaziv. “Vwhat are you-”

To her surprise, Zycra lashed her frog-like tongue and quickly enveloped Gaziv's head and arms within her own wet grasp.

“He'z mein tso eats!” said the chocolate-skinned succubus, her mouth already salivating from Gaziv's unique taste.

Completely trapped between the two muscles and left in darkness as both tongues tightened their grip on his body, Gaziv couldn't even move a thumb. Sticky saliva coating all over his body, he could only hear the omnipresent noise of dripping water rubbing his eardrums and a faint discussion between the two fire-succubi. And, Gaziv realized to his own dismay, he wasn't able to hold back the stiffening erection of his manhood. Strangely, a depraved part of him enjoyed the feeling of such an intimate feminine body part being all around him.

“No he'z nots! I'h sfsound its sfirsts!”

Gaziv felt he was being pulled by his legs, but was immediately brought back by a vigorous, humid twist. Suddenly the tongue holding his arms pierced through her foe's defense when the tip of Zycra's organ snaked all over his torso, worming its way across his belly, then passed over his erected member and went between his legs, climbing up his back. With a flick of her tongue, she freed Gaziv from the other succubus' grasp, raising him high in the air, claiming him all for herself. Noticing she was losing her snack, still-blinded Gaziv heard the blond succubus run towards her rival, only to be knocked out by a spell he never got the chance to see. The blond succubus' tongue shrank all the way back into her mouth as she fell on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, it'sf you n' me now!” The victorious feminine voice of the pony-tailed succubus hummed.

Gaziv washed his eyes and gulped as he was carried back in front of the large smiling face of his “savior”. She was twenty times bigger than him! His gaze was instinctively attracted to her big, deep eyes. The succubus slightly tilted her head, gazing back at him curiously. Inadvertently, due to her hypnotic powers and natural magnetism, she easily found her way into his mind. Gaziv felt a cold presence piercing through his head, eerie and chaotic, but kept on staring into the obscure warmness of the succubus seductive eyes. His entire life was summed up in the flash of an anachronistic kaleidoscope. Zycra got access to the atrocity he had committed, as well as his short trip in Hell. All his hopes, his desires, his weaknesses, his most intimate secrets and memories were presented to Zycra in a succession of rapid images. The totality of his very soul was filtered by her demonic leer. She got a taste of the very essence of Gaziv's being, and it instantly made her salivate in sheer excitement. She jokingly winked at him, breaking the spell, and told him while closing her predatory eyes in joyful ecstasy:

“Mmh now I undersftand why yo're ssso tasssty! I'm gonna endjoy you!”

She leaned her head back, raising her tongue high in the air. Gaziv, still trapped, felt for the second time an unpleasant fear gripping his intestines as he was carried so far up that he could almost touch the ceiling. He was unconsciously curious and amazed at how stretchy her tongue was. Maybe it didn't have a limit. In front of him laid the most mortally dangerous slide of all, one leading all the way directly into the dark drop of her throat, the exit door of her red, enormous maw, the interior of which was decorated with many strands of saliva in her mouth. The watered stalagmites and stalactites shone as light entered the damp, abysmal cavern. A breathtaking view that made him shiver. She giggled, as she felt his body tremble, getting more and more impatient to get a full taste of his sinful, enticing soul. The aura he emitted was much more appetizing than the previous fat man she ate, although she hoped her new delicious prey could struggle just as much as he had. Gaziv saw Zycra stroking her loudly eructing belly, the same way the blond succubus has done before, and felt the pressure around his body loosen. Seeing what she was doing, Gaziv muttered “There must have been an error” one last time before he tried to hang himself onto her undulating slimy flesh, but all his efforts were vain as she dexterously flipped him with the tip of her tongue, making him fall headfirst directly towards her wide-open, awaiting mouth. Sliding with both his hands in front of him, as if it could slow down the inevitable, he slid faster as he was gaining speed on the very soft and slippery surface. His entire world had become the rose, dripping interior of the alluring entrance to her feminine body. Saliva splashed against his face as he was heading towards the gaping darkness. Time slowed, and after what seemed like a terribly long fall, he entered her youthful mouth. Zycra immediately clamped her soft, luscious lips around his waist, imprisoning his upper body in his new waterlogged prison cell. She let him hang there while she rolled up her tongue back into her mouth in a very wet noise. Gaziv felt all the soggy, vigorous muscle pass under him between his legs, over his belly and face as he witnessed, first hand, the elasticity of her unique attribute. Plunged in complete darkness, Gaziv could only move his hands and legs in protest of his fate, of which she replied through a moan filled with desire towards his taste, with a subtle giggling sound. When her tongue got back to its normal size, she felt on her lower lip the erected member of her little prey. She was nicely surprised by this, as she thought about how Konta would react if she were to put him naked in the same position. Gaziv heard another moan of enjoyment echo in her mouth followed by a chortle and she began to lick his face and torso, doubling the intensity of his squirming. He tried to push back her powerful muscle with his bare hands, to no avail, as they would only slip on the slithering member that continuously splashed all over his body. Gaziv could only hear saliva sounds washing all over him in the hot dampness of the succubus' humid mouth. His hair was already as wet as if he had dove into a lake. Then, in a single movement, the succubus opened her mouth, letting the light in. She firmly jolted her head back, engulfing in her mouth the last half of Gaziv's body, before shutting her lips behind him, sealing him in the confines of her oral cavity. Fully inside her, Gaziv extended his arms on both side of her lusty tongue, in the hope of getting a better balance in his very precarious situation, to no avail, as she had complete power over him. Droplets of saliva often trickled from the roof of her mouth onto him. She shifted him around, sloshing him thoroughly, rolling him over and around her meaty muscle. Zycra was cheerfully exploring every inch of his body and there was nothing he could do, except letting himself go as her mere object of amusement, her little plaything – her literal amuse-gueule. She took advantage of his inferiority, squishing him hard on the roof of her palate, forcing him to hug her quivering tongue, extracting more and more of his flavor with overly audible slurping sounds. Her warm breath embraced his thick, heavily sticky skin, entirely covered in her dribbling liquid. He couldn't even open his mouth to catch his breath without swallowing huge quantities of her saliva and choking on it. Gaziv continued to be sucked on as he noticed, in his calvary, her breath changing its pace. He was bouncing on her soft plump tongue, meaning she was probably walking. Where? Why? His body was pushed to her front teeth, slipping under her tongue which made a good fun at smacking his skin while he was leaning against the limestone surface. Disoriented in this shaky, unstable and utterly dark environment, the poor lost soul was being thrown around aimlessly, hitting his head on her gums and teeth, although each time he was nearing her molars or her sharp fangs, he made sure he crawled in the opposite direction, fearing to suffer even more as a tiny bite of hers could cut off his arm. Zycra deeply appreciated the efforts her prey displayed, as he was unconsciously spreading his flavor over her taste buds. Breathless and overwhelmed, Gaziv's erection reached a summit he never thought possible. He felt the succubus must have noticed, as she took a particular joy in lubriciously sliding her smooth, sleek muscle over his private parts. Being naked in her mouth, Gaziv was almost living a synesthesia, minus his sight, although some light did pierce through Zycra's teeth. It was still very close to being imperceptible. Plus the fact that he couldn't even get his balance for more than three seconds before being tossed around again. Most of the time she preferred having him lie face down flat on her tongue, pressing him hard against her palate, wetting every millimeter of his epidermis. He did manage to extend his left arm far enough to pass between her two shut lips. He heard her laugh echo all around the enclosure of her mouth. She slurped in his wriggling limb, but he was more resistant than she thought as he unexpectedly grabbed her pointy fang. She smirked and pushed him inside her cheek, forming a big lump. She almost chewed on him, but chose to tease him by letting his right leg pedaling frantically outside her mouth while he was glued to her inner wall of slick flesh. She continuously laughed and giggled in a very cheerful way, enjoying every bit of it, and firmly sucked him back inside, sealing him in total darkness. Suddenly, he felt gravity changing. He prepared for the worst as her tongue slowly tilted him back towards he throat. She moaned in satisfaction, sloshing him for a few more moments, drenching his already soaked-wet body with her sultry saliva before tossing him to the back of her throat. Gaziv tried the best he could to find a grip, anything, but all his efforts were in vain. She parted her lips once more, letting the light illuminate the entire interior of her dank and very wet oral orifice. He saw the perfect row of her glistening pearly white ivories, the red carpet that was her tongue onto which his feet were resting and, finally, her uvula, dangling right above his head. With one hand, he tried to reach it in his last desperate attempt to live, but that was the moment Zycra chose to end her little game and swallowed him, mouth open. Helpless, Gaziv was suddenly being dragged down her esophagus, towards her internal pit. Squirming with all his might, he never stopped fighting as he was overwhelmed by the strength of her peristalsis, bringing him all the way down her body. Extremely uncomfortable, unlike when he was riding on her tongue, this time he was constricted all over by the muscles that were conducting him to his last stay: her already gurgling stomach. He looked up and saw the light fading; Zycra was closing her mouth and he was traveling deeper into her body, leaving behind him a bulge descending down her neck and disappearing through her rib cage. Unable to breath, unable to move for what seemed like an eternity, Gaziv finally popped into a damp, hot-air filled lair. The wet ground had a foot high of stomach acid already pooled. The tickle he felt around his ankles made him gasp in pain and he crawled back, hitting someone whilst doing so. He felt against his back the breasts of who probably was Holena, the woman he was trapped with in the bag, who got eaten first. They exchanged a few words and, when Gaziv inquired about Ytoff Meyachev, she told him he had fallen unconscious because he was exhausted and couldn't match his breathing pattern with their new hostess. She pointed with Gaziv's arm where he was supposed to be, laying in the stomach acids, already being digested. She too was feeling very uneasy as there were very few places where there wasn't acid already, and these places were slowly diminishing minutes by minutes, the acid-level rising. As Zycra continued walking, acid sometimes splashed on them, slowly burning them bit by bit. Gaziv was trapped, with no way of escaping.

***

“You did what!? How dare you!?” the voice of the master of The Gloomy Plague echoed loudly all over his tremendous domain. “Why did you have to hit her with your spell? Oh, my poor, sweet, sweet Velmedra! For one damned human soul!”

“Yep,” Zycra licked her lips, “and it was worth it!”

Gryjiel was walking fast around his throne, in the Hall of Despair. He felt terribly sorry for the succubus he had been employing for some eternity, now. This will also give him a bad image if it were to be known. His reputation would suffer from it.

“She never complained!” added the demon. “She will remember this episode, oh yes, she will! And who will have to make her comfortable, now? Me! A bit more of this, a bit less of that! Grrr! I should cancel our deal!”

He waved his both arms alongside his body and a sudden fire erupted from all the pores of his skin, making him look much more dangerous than before. He was, after all, a loyal warlord of the satanic legions. Beside his throne, on a small shelf, stood the Jar of Silkurnis with Konta sitting just next to it, an army of dead monsters on the ground all around the wooden furniture. His face was red of bother and frustration, both his arms crossed over his chest. Zycra gave him a fake apologetic smile for forgetting about him, even though she always knew nothing would happen to him. He replied with a scornful stare.

“You can't cancel it. Not now that I've seen the Jar,” replied Zycra to Gryjiel, slowly marching towards the demon who had returned to normal.

“I am the master here! I'm the one who give commands! And I command-”

“We can talk price, now,” cut Zycra.

Gryjiel's attitude suddenly changed, as he came back to normal, only something was different in him. The demon was stroking his hands together and playing with his finger with anticipation.

“A price, yes... For a prized Jar of Silkurnis. What can a Zordford offer to Gryjiel that Gryjiel doesn't already have, I wonder?”

“It depends. I suppose Gryjiel does not need weapons?” she falsely inquired.

Gryjiel shook his head. Zycra was walking towards him.

“Nor does he need power..?”

Gryjiel shook his head again. Zycra climbed the small steps leading to his throne.

“Or another palace?”

Gryjiel was still shaking his head. Zycra crossed the few meters between them.

“Then what can a Zordford offer to the mighty, the ever-so powerful, the titanic Gryjiel the Nefarious?”

Gryjiel froze. Zycra was now touching him, nose to nose, breast to torso, tummy to belly.

“Maybe something... that can only be felt?”

Gryjiel gazed deep down the succubus' eyes. Zycra's amber iris were all of a sudden overwhelmingly alluring, and the demon's mind slowly drifted away as Zycra was emitting a strong impression of lust. She felt he was already resisting her demonic charm. Without giving him time to question what was happening, she grabbed his chin, touching his disfigured face.

“How about that?”

And she violently kissed him. Gryjiel was melting internally as he kissed her back, enjoying the fresh feeling of her youthful lips. Zycra grabbed his collar and brought him closer to her, kissing him deeper, overpowering him through his most basic instinct. She slightly parted her lips, allowing her tongue to go on explore Gryjiel's own mouth. The succubus let out lustful growls, which directly echoed in Gryjiel's head.

Unfortunately for Gryjiel, as Konta knew from experience after passing so much time with the succubus, Zycra possessed a secret weapon. She had hypnotic eyes, it was true, but these eyes had no power on a high-ranked demon like Gryjiel. She had to change her tactics, which is exactly was she was doing by kissing the demon. Zycra had the ability to suck dry the entirety of someone's magic if she were to kiss him. Draining her opponents' forces always has been easy for Zycra, due to her natural charm and exotic beauty, surpassing the majority of other succubi. A squall was circling around the two satanic beings; the succubus' long dark hair were flowing in the air, swinging in every directions because of the violent winds. Konta had to plant his sword in the wooden surface to not fall off. From his point of view, the human warrior could only see half the face of his friend, but it was enough to notice a dark green flame illuminate Zycra's iris as a great quantity of power rushed through her entire body. Her wings spread wide-open in a sudden blast, scattering the dead mutants bodies across the Hall of Despair in a single blow and extinguishing half of the torches. She had him. Gryjiel realized, too late, what was happening to him. The demon tried to break free of the succubus deadly kiss, but she held him tight against her body, emptying him, sucking his magic sources dry. At some point, Gryjiel fainted, and Zycra released him as he fell on the ground.

“That's two demons you knocked out in the same day,” Konta said sarcastically. “Planning to make some new friends after that?”

“When we get out, maybe I can present you to my mother. She'd probably love to have a moment alone with you,” she jokingly replied.

Zycra went to the Jar of Silkurnis and touched it with her left hand. She closed her eyes, thinking hard, and then Konta and her heard a small “toc” inside the Jar. She immediately plunged her hand inside it and, happy with the result, cast a spell and destroyed the object.

“What are you doing?” asked Konta. “I thought you wanted that jar!”

“I did, and now that I've used it, it's empty. Jars of Silkurnis can only be used once,” she remembered him.

“And what did you use it for?” asked Konta.

She did not answer. Instead, she opened her large demonic wings in a sudden burst of wind. She presented her hand to Konta, who, without questioning her, jumped into her palm.

“No time to explain, guards are coming. Get on my back, we're in for some quick flying.”

She brought him to her shoulder and immediately flew off. Portals started to appear in the Hall of Despair and demons emerged from them, sensing something wrong about their master. Zycra, not staying there a minute longer, flew towards the exit, making her way through the labyrinthine castle. While flying, Konta asked her in her pointy ear:

“Why don't you use a portal like them and be done with it?”

“I don't have enough privileges. I'm only a visitor, here. We need to get out of the property.”

Taking a left, then a right, and another right, Zycra was flying very fast, as if she already knew her way. After taking a left, Zycra was heading straight into a dead-end. Grabbing his friend's hair, Konta feared for the worst. The succubus spit in her hand a ball of fire and, at the last moment, threw it directly on the wall. It exploded in a cloud of smoke and debris. The instant later, Zycra was flying outside, heading straight to the gates, the only exit of the domain. A ball of frost missed her on her left and, when she looked back, she could see inferior demons casting frost spells at her. Some of them attempted to catch her by flying, but Zycra was too fast. She could hear Konta yelling insults at their incompetence and ineptitude and it made her grin.

When she arrived at the gates, she noticed the dwarf-sized imp that served as a guide when she first arrived – Gustave. Mischievously, she brutally landed on him, squashing his entire body under her foot, as a way to say goodbye to Gryjiel. Gray, dusky clouds escaped between her pretty toes and vanished in the air. She looked under her sole and, as she expected, there was no trace of blood or Gustave's corpse still glued to her arch. She hadn't killed the little demon, though, as every imp that “died” only disappeared in a small cloud of smoke before reappearing in Antarioch, the lava realm, where they were created. In her youth, Zycra had a great fun with her friends in crushing under their feet every little imp they met, before seeing them resurrect in confusion not far from there and crushing them again.

Fortunately for her, the gates were easily opened from the inside. The instant Zycra crossed the gates, she cast a portal to Felarya and, without hesitating, walked through it.

When they reappeared in the voracious never ending forest world of Felarya, Zycra sighed and laid down, resting her head in her hands. In a snap of her fingers, she got rid of her dress and allowed herself to relax. She could still feel movements in her tummy, tickling her from the inside, but her snacks had mostly become tranquil, accepting their fate. She felt Konta crawling up on her tummy, prodding her to look down upon him.

“Yes?” she asked innocently

“Don't mock me, you know exactly what I'm gonna ask,” he replied dryly.

“Then ask,” she smiled.

“What was all of that for. What did you get from that stupid Jar?”

“Oh, you still want to know? It was nothing...”

Konta jumped on her belly, causing her to laugh.

“You're impossible!”

Konta walked up her body, passed between her mountain-like breasts and went directly above her sternum.

“Show me, and we can play another round of hide and seek if you like.”

“A 2 out of 3. I'm seeker, non-negotiable!” she immediately responded, blow for blow, biting the challenge.

“As if it'll help your statistics. You're trailing far behind. Now, how about you tell me what you brought back from Hell?"

Zycra laughed, and opened her hand in a small burst of fire. There, she was holding a shiny red and silver wrapping in her left palm. A red wrapping on which black letters were written. Letters which said:

“Cho-co-late Bar. Chocolate Bar.”

Fury erupted in Konta's mind, his skin turning a shade of dark red as veins visibly strained and pulsed. The entire trip to Hell, all of the dangers that could've attacked them, the army of monsters he had to fend off... Them risking their lives, for a simple giant sized chocolate bar?

“You know how rare they are, don't you?” Zycra said in an effort to calm him.

“Oh I know, he slowly replied, reddening even more. I know a lot of things. I know that... you... are... going... to...”

Zycra couldn't help letting out a sneer.

“SUFFER!!!”

And she ran in the forest, laughing out loud while being purchased by an anger-filled Konta, his fire-sword, unsheathed, flaming high above his head.