Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
"Welcome to Your New Home"
*warning: contains violence some may find disturbing*
Jazz comes to with a wicked headache, cotton mouth and a belly that felt like it had eaten a truck load of thumb tacks. He groans low as his eye lids flutter open, then squint, trying to focus. Abruptly he stills. Then jerks at his wrists… and his ankles. The sound of metal chains clinking and smacking up against the stone wall he’s leaning against makes him grimace.
“Aw fuck,” he mutters, looking at the shackles that restrain him in his dark, cold cell. His spidey-senses come back online. He isn’t alone. And his company is a malignant entity that is making his body twitch from its potent aura. “Show yourself,” he chokes as he fights back the bile.
The underlord manifests, leaning lazily against the cell door and sporting a wicked smile. “Good morning sunshine.” Laughing deeply, he smirks. “Welcome back to the world of the waking. I was starting to wonder if you were going to continue to hide in your dreams.” Next to him, a torch flares to life, light flickering along his features. “And welcome to your new home. You're nice and comfortable, yes?” Seth pushes away from the door and makes his way toward Jazz. “Can I get you anything,” he growls, “to make your stay more unpleasant? Oh, I know. I could bring you a friend to talk to.” Stopping just out of reach, he grins. “You know, Anton, I think I like this new angel wall art I have.”
Anton smirks, manifesting as well. “It does add a new pizazz to an otherwise dull room.” He shoves off the adjacent wall and walks over to stand next to Jazz, eyeing him like an inanimate object. “You know, Pops, this would look good over the fireplace.” He turns around to look at his father, an ominous gleam in his eye, then plucks a feather off of Jazz’s wing.
Jazz hisses in pain. “Don’t fucking do that again,” he grits through clenched teeth, glaring poison darts at Anton. His eyes slide to Seth. “What the fuck do you want?” He yanks on his shackles and growls. “You pissed at me for ganking your thugs? Is that it? Well, they deserved it.” He tugs harder, glowering viciously at the both of them. “They are scum, trashing my Lord's green earth. They need to be removed. I just play garbage collector. Pick their filthy asses up and dump them back off where they belong. In the stinkin’ pits of hell! You two will be next, mark my fucking words!”
Seth bares his fangs, then grabs a handful of Jazz's hair and jerks his head back. “Your lord's green earth?” he snarls incredulously. “Your lord hides in his clouds as far from the truth of this world as he can! If anyone owns this world, it's us! Those who have to live here, those who have to deal with its unending shit!” He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “You think you’re above us. Above it all!” he barks. “But those beasts you killed were mine, and yes, you're going to pay for it, little angel.”
With a growl, Seth looks at Anton. “Fetch the girl. He needs to see what I do to those who disappoint me.” When the male vanishes, he turns back to Jazz. “I ordered this girl a long ago to bring you to me,” he sneers. “She put it off because she... cares.”
Again, his face takes on a look of repulsion. “It seems she wanted you all for herself. So let's see just how much you care for her in return.” He roughly releases Jazz’s hair and grins, then returns to leaning against the wall, anticipation clear on his features as he waits his son.
Right on time, Anton returns to the cell, hauling Zayta with him by her arm. As she demands to know what’s going on, he spins her around to face Jazz. “What do you think, Zayta? See anything you like on that wall?” He grips her chin and pulls her body tight against his chest, making her look at the male against the wall. “Look at him helplessly chained to the wall,” he whispers in her ear. “I bet you'd do anything to see him let loose, wouldn't you? You have a soft spot for him, don't you?”
Zayta squirms against his hold, her eyes glued to Jazz. War wages on her features, as if the demon in her was begging her not to show emotion, to forget the angel. “Anton,” she breathes. “Why are you doing this? I... don't understand. I did what you wanted. What Master wanted.”
Jazz's eyes go dark, his body stilling at her words. “Zayta,” he growls, his voice a mixture of betrayal and disgust. He can’t believe she fucked him over so bad. He truly believed her to be his friend. His face distorts into a mask of hurt, betraying his tough front. “How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends. The one person I thought I could—” He swallows down more bile. This whole sitch was one huge fucking nightmare.
When she just looks at him and frowns, he turns his head and closes his eyes. “So, you‘re gonna beat me now?” he mutters to his captors. “Beat the female?” Renewed anger surges through him. Again, he tries to get free, tugging wildly at his restraints. “Let me go and face me with some dignity, you filthy pieces of worthless shit!!”
Seth’s lips twist cruelly, watching in delight, as if the emotions rolling off Jazz were giving him a hard-on. “What's the matter Jazz?” he laughed richly. “Does the thought of a female being beaten bother you? Even after all she's done?”
He turns to pin Zayta with an ominous smile. “And yes, my pet, you did do what I wanted.” His words rumble deep and darkly. “But you waited. You put it off.” Smirking, he reaches out again and grabs Jazz’s hair, jerking his head viciously backward. “And now your ‘friend’ here is going to watch while you have your punishment.” He looks at Jazz and sneers. “You'll enjoy it, too, little angel. Oh, indeed. I promise you'll enjoy it, too.” Seth gives Anton a slight nod, then leans in close to Jazz’s ear. “Then later you and I will play,” he whispers. “Just you and me, angel boy.”
Anton grins knowingly, moving to pull down a chain from the center of the room. As Jazz looks warily on, he yanks Zara's hands above her head and snaps the dangling shackles around her wrists. With a sharp tug on the chain, it retracts back into the ceiling until Zayta was standing on just the tips of her toes.
He steps back to smugly admire his handy work, then heads over to pull a small whip from the wall. “I told you, Zayta, you don't make Pops wait. He's not a patient man.” Anton smacks the whip against his palm, slowly making his way around to stand in front of her. Looking her in the eye, his eyes flash black. “And neither am I.”
Abruptly, he grabs her throat and pulls her close to kiss her lips. When she’s nearly blue from oxygen depletion, he shoves her away, only to spin her in dizzying circles. She groans, just before he grabs her roughly by the hair, yanking her body to a stop. “Now then, for making dear old dad wait too long, and having that soft spot for the doomed angel, I think you need to learn a lesson in the art of obeying an order. It’s a behavioral trait,” he growls menacingly in her ear, “that needs to be beaten out of you.”
Zayta gasps, then shivers violently. “Anton... Please... Don't... I...” She closes her eyes and swallows hard, as if readying herself for what is to come.
Jazz stills, his eyes going wide. Shaking his head, he looks at the two males. “What the fuck are you doing? She did your bidding. Is this how you reward your workers?” He narrows his stare, glaring. “What a way to motivate the help, boys. Remind me never to apply for a job.”
He’s trying desperately not to appear to care about Zayta, hoping it’ll prompt them to let her go. But inside his heart is hammering like a piston. If they hurt her he was gonna go postal. A part of him still saw her as his friend. By the way she kept glancing at him, he almost believes she’s remorseful for what she’d done. And now that his head is clearing, the murky fog of whatever they poisoned him with nearly gone, he’s hoping he'll be able to ramp up his angel powers.
He looks at Anton as the male lifts his whip. “Are you serious?” Jazz growls. “Are you really such a piece of pansy-ass shit that you gotta chain up a chick before you beat her?”
Anton chuckles. “Don't you get it, angel? This is her world, too. She knows the rules and she chose to break them.” He yanks her head back with a smirk. “Tell him, Zayta. You were supposed to have him here long before now. But you went mushy and procrastinated.”
He lets her go so suddenly that she wobbles haphazardly. Before she can get her footing, Anton strips her of her clothes without touching her. His whip streaks through air with an ominous whistle, striking her across the back with an echoing crack. The barbs on the end dig ruthlessly into her flesh, ripping free as he yanks the whip back. Zayta cries out, jerking in pain.
“There is no mercy here, angel.” Anton grins. “You do as your told, or you pay the consequences. “To emphasize his point, he lets the whip lash into her buttocks next. Tender flesh shreds, fresh blood spraying the ground.
Zayta screams again, tears immediately filling her eyes. She closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to find a happy place. But fresh pain slicing her skin has her eyes snapping wide again, her wild focus landing on Jazz. A look of affection and yet hatred twisted her features.
Jazz lets out a string of colorful oaths. Zayta’s screams were tearing straight into his soul. Her pain is his fault. His duty as a mission angel had somehow intersected with hers as a demon servant, and now, because he had taken out those thugs, she is paying the price.
He glares over at Anton. Through gritted teeth, he growls. “Let her go now or you’ll both pay dearly for this shit.”
When Seth laughs and Anton merely adds more lashings to Zayta's tender flesh, Jazz lets out a brutal roar. His body goes rigid with righteous fury, his muscles straining against his shackles. He slams his eyes shut and calls upon his angelic powers, plunging deep into his core for what he and his siblings call ‘heaven's nitrous.’
His heart stumbles. Where is his warrior essence? His mind begins to panic as he scrambles within his psyche for his only hope of getting Zayta and him out of this mess. And then he finds it, but—FUCK! It’s somehow shackled within him, just like his wrists and ankles are on his corporal body.
His eyes pop open to see Zayta taking more hits—and there's nothing he can do to save her. “Zayta,” he implores on an anguished groan. “Forgive me.”
Anton pauses in his whipping session to laugh at Jazz. “Why should she forgive you?” he asks snidely. “She’s not yours. She’s one of us.”
He wipes the dotted specks off blood from his face and throws the whip on the floor. Eyes black, he walks over to the fire pit. Iron rod pokers sat with their tips glowing in the flames. Without a care, he picks one up. The business end was molten red. “She knew the price was steep when she didn't obey,” he continued absently, walking back over, sites set on the backs of her leg. He smirks as she tries to pitch away from it, swinging forward briefly, only to sway back into the red iron.
She screams, but he just pulls her head back and holds the iron in front of her face. “Zayta, Zayta. Where is that demon that wants out? Come out, come out, where ever you are,” he croons in a sinister, sing-song voice.
She whimpers the cries out as he sears the tops of her thighs. Her loathing for him was now. Her eyes shift to black. “I hate you,” she snarls.
Anton just grins, as if just paid a high compliment.
Jazz roars and grapples against his chains—his chains, and Seth's merciless grip on his hair.
Seth releases him but continues to force Jazz to watch by dark magic alone. No joke, Jazz’s head was literally locked in place, his frantic eyes incapable of closing.
The dark lord approaches Zayta and takes her face in his hands. “Tell me it doesn't feel good to your darkness, sweet one. Tell me the pain doesn't make you burn.” He laughs, his lips mere inches from her own. “Come on, lie to me. Tell me how you're suffering.”
Attacking her mouth for a kiss, he intentionally cuts her lips with his fangs. “I can smell arousal beginning in you, girl,” he murmurs. “You're getting hot. I bet if Anton took you right now you'd beg him never to stop.” He absently licks the drops of blood from her lips, then turns to look back at Jazz with a wicked smile. “She tastes so delicious. So ripe for the plucking.”
Jazz vibrates in pure rage, his gut lurching from the scene. “Get your filthy hands off her, you sick rat-bastard.” He tugs harder, his efforts are futile. “LET GO OF HER, DAMN YOU!”
Anton snickers, sliding his hands around Zayta’s helpless, bloodied body. Eyes on Jazz, he kisses the side of her neck, then cruelly pinches her nipples. “Hate me all you want, Zayta,” he purrs. “I know what you crave.” He moves his hand down the front of her to dip between legs. “Ah, yes. That's my little demon. So wet. You like what I did to you. No use denying it now.” He slid three fingers deep and started to vigorously rub.
Her eyes rolled back as she moaned against her will. “That's it, Zayta,” he breathes. “Let Jazz hear how turned on you are by what I am doing between your thighs.”
She choked back a curse, then just like that, was crying out in brutal release. Anton smirked and pulled free, his fingers dripping with her juices. Juices that were now running down her legs. As she works to catch her breath, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls on her chain. He wasn’t done with her yet. Hefting her off her feet, he moved her to stand in front of the angel. This close, Jazz could easily smell her arousal.
“See how she likes what I do to her?” Anton chuckled. “You should taste her. She's very sweet on the tongue.” Without warning, he gripped Jazz’s head and shoved his fingers into his mouth. “See?” he grinned darkly. “So sinfully sweet.”
Jazz gags around the dude’s digits crammed down his throat. Zayta squirms, the sight seeming to make her even hotter. Jazz can see the conflict in her eyes. Can see her insides in utter turmoil, her humiliation at odds with her undeniable arousal. He wants to look away... but can’t. She’s just so friggin' stunning; panting like that, moaning like that, writhing like that.
Seth laughs, eyes twinkling as he moves behind Jazz’s back, growling low, then flicking his tongue along his ear. “I knew you were darker then you pretended to be,” he whispers, closing his mouth over the side of Jazz's neck. Sharp fangs sink deep. Jazz gasps. Seth groans, clearly loving the feel of puncturing his flesh.
He begins to drink hungrily. Jazz shudders against him, helpless, Seth’s inward smile palpable as he feeds. Before long, Jazz can feel his body weakening. Can feel his six-foot frame begin to slump.
Seth steps away with a rumble and thumbs the blood from his mouth, then walks to Zayta and drags his digit across her lips. “So sweet,” he murmurs. “Taste him, the angel you have given me, then go and spend time with my son. You both need a little fun.” He laughs as she licks Jazz’s ambrosia without hesitation.
Her body begins to quake, Jazz’s angelic blood instantly wreaking havoc on her system. Her eyes flare. Anton quickly whisks her away into thin air.
Seth looks back at Jazz and grins. “How I am going to enjoy watching you fall.”
*Guest writer for Anton: Alicia Dawn
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