First and Last

Hellhound/Dark Elf/Vampire/Succubus Mamono Fan-Fiction

Much like everything else in the Demon Realm, the moon itself has become corrupt, turning the dark-red color of ox-blood. However, the light it gives off is just as pale as it is in Lescatie, albeit much brighter. It illuminates the black dirt road ahead of me and the field of unnaturally-purple grass that stretches out for miles on both sides. The shimmering fields eventually give way to a vast glowing blue forest, flanked by a jagged mountain range behind me.

Massive amounts of corruption permeate this region, sticking to a person like moisture in a humid climate. It strikes me that what I am currently witnessing has never been glimpsed by the human eye. If one ever were to enter this fog of desire, their mind would be flooded with unclean thoughts as they began to mutate, women transforming into sex-crazed creatures of the abyss, men turning into eternally-horny incubi.

Thankfully, I have magical protection from such changes. It is essential for my first mission as a Demon Hunter.



Two days ago, I was given my first. The daughter of a knight, in this case the daughter of Sir Ruthven, had died from an illness that had plagued her since childhood. The vampire was given a proper burial in her family crypt, clothed in an exquisite white dress. All was peaceful until a young man was found lying in the street the next morning, fast asleep. When he came to, he told the local guards that he had been walking home when a figure had attacked him. He didn’t remember anything after that and was released from custody. No one bothered to check his throat.

Unfortunately, the attacks on young men continued for the next two weeks. A curfew was enforced by the guard, but men were attacked in their own beds while they slept. A messenger had been sent to an Order stronghold to find help, but by the time he had returned with a company of soldiers, the damage had already been done.

The assailant had been spotted by a guardsman the night after the messenger was dispatched, he described, “a beautiful woman in an equally beautiful white dress.” When word got out, a mob gathered at the Ruthven crypt, forcing it open and quickly discovering that the recently deceased Ms. Ruthven was missing. The disbelieving mob marched to the family’s manor, breaking their way into the foyer of the home, where Sir Ruthven and his servants confronted them.

The two parties argued over the whereabouts of the missing woman, but the mob became impatient and searched the house. The vampire’s room was also found empty, though the window had been left open, the curtains blowing in the gentle night breeze. The dress that she had been wearing when she was buried had been tossed on the floor, the garment itself covered in blood splotches. Search parties were formed to track down the fugitive during the daylight hours, but by then there was little chance of capturing her. A merchant’s wagon was reported stolen and the man who had been the first to be attacked was missing.

Once the Order soldiers arrived, they knew exactly what they were dealing with: a vampire. An inquisition was immediately launched to cleanse the town, starting with Sir Ruthven and his servants, who were charged with harboring the monster and sentenced to death. Anyone who was attacked by the vampire had his faith thoroughly tested and killed all those who were found lacking.

Once the clean-up was finished, I was briefed with the above information and assigned to hunt down and destroy the vampire and her male helpers. An Order supply wagon provided transportation from the stronghold where I’m stationed, to the Friedemann Mountain Range and the Eastern border of the Demon Realm. After that, I was on my own, journeying into the edge of this God-forsaken land by foot.



The circumstances weren’t horribly uncommon, or so I’ve heard. An exceptionally chaste young woman dies in the flower of her youth and returns to the land of the living, seeking out the pleasures that she herself could not experience while alive, due to her lifestyle. She would rise from her grave during the night and suck the blood of men she fancied, continuing to spread her corruption. My job as a Demon Hunter was to track down high-ranking Mamono that had fled the Human Realm and kill them.

By now, I’ve reached the line of corrupt trees bordering the field. The occasional blue leaf falls from the twisted foliage, spiraling lazily to the road. To be honest, the Demon Realm is much more beautiful than I thought it would be, especially at night. Everything is so calm and serene, not the “monsterized” orgy I was anticipating. In fact, I haven’t seen a single Mamono since I entered the Demon Realm.

The road begins to curve ahead, gradually at first but suddenly becoming sharp. I hear an eerie creaking sound, like an old door hinge. Advancing cautiously, I discover a merchant wagon that taken the turn too quickly, flipping onto its side before sliding into the trees. It must be the same one that was reported missing. I make no effort to conceal myself and continue to walk in a beeline for the overturned vehicle, silently drawing my steel broadsword from the left side of my hip and pulling the shield from off of my back.

As I approach the wagon, the creaking becomes louder and more frequent. Another sound also becomes more distinguishable as I approach: heavy grunting. How long has the wagon been here? Did the vampire decide to use her man-slave the entire time? Maybe they both decided to stay in the compromised wagon because it was the safest place in the area?

The wagon is literally rocking from side to side as I stand by its rear axle, betraying the roughness of the activity inside.

I pray quickly to the Chief God and steel myself for what I’m about to witness. I reach cautiously for the handle of the wagon’s back door, pausing when I notice the interior of the wagon has gone completely silent.  

Like water bursting from an overtaxed floodgate, the door of the wagon explodes off its hinges, sending wooden shrapnel everywhere. I jump away from the brunt of the explosion, wooden splinters glancing off my armor-clad body. The door flips and tumbles through the air before sliding across the road and coming to an eventual stop.

A lithe form stoops through the oblong doorway before straightening up and yawning loudly. It stretches itself, bushy tail wagging excitedly above its furless rump. Her arms and legs are covered in black fur as well, the color changing to auburn at her wrists and ankles, the same at her tail tip. She turns her flaming red eyes on me, lips quickly twisting into a mocking smile. The look promises the same fate as her most recent victim, his semen even now running down the insides of her legs from her exposed crotch. She flexes her powerful paws in anticipation for the approaching battle.

The hellhound extends her arms and charges. I take up a defensive stance in time to intercept her strikes with my shield, sparks flying as her diamond-hard claws scrape across the steel. She possesses an extremely aggressive fighting-style, landing jarring attacks on my shield one after the next. As a Demon Hunter, I have trained in close-quarters combat and studied strategies to defeat any Mamono that I might encounter in the Demon Realm, including hellhounds.

She continues swiping at my shield, trying different angles of attack, all of which I block with my shield. The strikes become less and less frequent with her growing exhaustion. She jumps, claws held behind her head in preparation for a vicious downward double-claw strike. I take the opportunity to launch a counter-attack.

I raise my shield to block her overhead strike and use the opening it creates to kick her in the stomach, sending her flying. She hits the ground and slides across the road. Before she can recuperate, I cover the distance and bring the basket-hilt of my broadsword down on her forehead, knocking her out cold. I straighten up, breathing heavily.

Leaving the hellhound, I approach the back of the wagon and peer inside. A young man with dark-brown hair is slumped against the ceiling of the overturned wagon, fast asleep. Colored fabrics, spices, jewelry, and various potions litter the floor surrounding him. His body had been laid bare by the hellhound and covered in her sexual fluids. Despite my disgust at the sight and smell, I replace my sword and shield and drag the naked man from the wagon. I lean him against the back of the wagon and slap him, continuing to do so until he regains consciousness. His eye-color is already significantly corrupt, the once natural color now a bright-red, betraying his true nature as a fully-fledged incubus.

Not wanting to waste any time, I ask him the only question that matters; “Where’s the vampire?”

He doesn’t reply, so I give his face another smack.

“Huh? Who’re you?” he mumbles.

“Where is the vampire?”

His lust-filled eyes slowly scan my armor, the realization for my being here dawning on him. He screws his mouth shut but lowers his eyes to the soil, a hurt look spreading across his face.

I can read him like a book; the vampire had left him behind. How amusing.

I leave the incubus and investigate the rest of the wagon. Both of the horses are still in their harnesses, one of them had died on impact with a tree, the other from lack of food and water. So the wagon must have been here for a few days now. The ground around the carriage had been trampled considerably, concealing any tracks that may have been there.

The vampire was long gone. Who knows how far she  had traveled? However, I will not give up, at least not yet. Leaving the incubus and hellhound, I continue down the road at a sprint, searching for signs of my prey.



I sprint down the road, my plate-mail armor moving silently with my every step. My pace takes me deeper into the forest, where the trees increase in size and age. The moon has since drifted below the horizon, but the high levels of corruption make the skies of this world eternally dark. Unfortunately, the lack of sunlight makes my job infinitesimally more difficult, allowing the vampire to move unhindered during the night and day.

Shadows shift silently amongst the thick foliage on either side of the road, so quickly only someone with my training could notice. I’m being watched.

I slowly come to a stop in the middle of the road, taking a quick rest and serving as a chance to observe my potential assailants. Only a fool would actually venture into the corrupt woods to investigate, the chance of becoming helpless prey for the Mamono greatly increasing once one was inside. Satisfied that my adversaries will not attack, I resume sprinting.

A set of expertly thrown bolas fly out from the darkness, genuinely surprising me as they wrap around my legs. I fall to the ground, sliding for five or six feet due to my residual momentum. I recover my wits but decide that it would be in my better interest to feign defeat and lure my enemies into the open. My patience is quickly rewarded when I hear the slightly muffled voices of my attackers behind me.

“What is it?” the first voice asks crisply. The voice is female, undoubtedly spoken by a Mamono.

“Definitely not a Dullahan, it has a helmet.” She giggles. She sounds like she’s talking to herself.

“It does not have any markings on its armor. Is it from Lescatie?” the shield on my back is prodded lightly.

“Undoubtedly, but any human who traveled this far into the Demon Realm would be showing signs of corruption.” despite the confidence of her explanation, she sounds troubled. “If I had not been watching the road, we would have completely missed him.”

Hmmm. This Mamono must have an affinity for magic, if she was able to sense me.

“I believe it is suppressing its spirit energy somehow, similar to hiding in plain sight.”

“Well, then what is it?” she sounds impatient.

“I do not know.”

A moment of silence ensues before she excitedly states, “It is the male you spoke of, a Hero perhaps?”

“Indeed, we must turn him over.” she appears to have made up her mind.

Two pairs of hands waste no time slipping under my chest, much to my confusion. The owners of the hands gasp and pant as they slowly flip me over onto my back. I peek through the visor of my helmet, watching as a brown-skinned woman with long silver hair brings her face directly in front of mine.

“I cannot see through the visor. Help me remove its helmet.” Her breath is sweet.

I kick my legs up and snap to my feet, head-butting the Mamono squarely in the face. She gasps and stumbles back, tripping and falling on her rear. I cut the bola from my ankles with my broadsword and draw the shield from my back simultaneously. The Mamono that fell to the ground rises unsteadily to her feet, blood streaming down her face from her nose.

The sight of not one but two Mamono greets me. They are exactly identical, from their brown skin to their long silver hair, pointed ears and reddish-purple eyes. Even their outfits are the same, consisting of an amalgamation of purple leather, crossed black string, and polished metal rings. They are obviously dark elves, but I assume that they are also identical twins. The only defining characteristics between the two of them is the placement of a pink heart tattoo, one elf has the icon on her left thigh, the other on her right.

“Rina, my nose hurts…” the dark elf whines, tears flowing from her eyes.

Ignoring her sister, the other dark elf asks me, “You are male, are you not?”

I stare silently ahead, giving nothing away.

“I know you are.” She says confidently.

Rena wipes her face with the backs of her hands, carefully avoiding her swollen nose. Her expression becomes aggressive, “Rena, we need him.” gravely adding, “Our village needs him.”

Rina appears confused for a split second before she regains her composure, “For the village, of course.”

Both sisters remove pink whips from around their waists, unwinding them for the impending fight. I am ready to strike at any moment, but remain as still as a statue.

“Why do you need me?” I ask.

The dark elves are briefly taken aback, but quickly regain their composure.

“What did you say?” asks Rina.

“Why do you need me?”

Now that I have revealed my masculinity, the sisters grin.

“If we can restrain you, you will come with us. If you manage to evade capture, we will tell you anything you desire. Do we have a deal?” Rina says with a mischievous twinkle in her violet eyes.

I remain silent for a few seconds, making it seem like I need to think about it before agreeing.


The sisters crack their whips as soon as I finish speaking, Rena’s wraps around the wrist of my sword arm while Rena’s snags on the armor covering my right ankle. In a surprising display of coordination, Rena tugs her whip while Rina sprints in the opposite direction, toppling me. I quickly ram my shield down over Rena’s whip, severing it and causing her to fall on her behind from the sudden lack of tension.

A warm feeling appears in my ankle, spreading across my body before concentrating in my crotch. I whip my gaze behind me to find Rina chanting, a red glow pulsating around her body. The light is being channeled through the whip and into my ankle. Fear floods my mind as I realize she is using arousal magic.

I need to end this quickly. Thankfully, the fear spiked my blood with adrenaline, giving me the extra power I need. I dig the shield deeper into the soil, using it as a foothold to yank the dark elf forward with all my might. Twisting around as far as I can, I plunge the double-edged blade of my broadsword into the black soil to the right of the whip. I pull my right foot past the blade, only to kick it out again sharply to the left. The blade bites easily into the taught leather, slicing through it. The arousal quickly dissipates.

I pull my shield and sword from the ground and charge Rina, who is still recuperating after using her magic attack. She tenses up as she sees me approach, anticipating a body-slam. To her surprise, just as I’m about to ram into her I jump to the left and plant my right foot in the soft earth. I extend my left leg and hook it behind her ankles, pulling her feet out from under her. I follow up by slamming my shield into her chest with my left arm, smacking her into the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her. The force of the attack was strong enough to snap the heels of her boots off in the dirt.

I step back from the dark elf and point the tip of my sword at her exposed neck. The rumor about her kind being interested in masochism must be true, as her face is deeply flushed with arousal. She gasps for air and clutches at her chest.

“Stop, you win! Do not kill her!” Rena rushes over, kneeling down next to her winded sister.

I sheath my sword and replace the shield on my back. In the few minutes it takes for Rina to regain her breath, I unwind the lengths of severed whip from around my wrist and ankle. Rena eventually helps Rina to her feet.

“Ugghhh, you are incredible.” Rina gasps, shuddering in pleasure. I ignore her comment.

“Why do you need me?” I repeat my question.

Seeing as Rina is still out of breath, whether from my attack or her growing desire I do not know, Rena speaks.

“Approximately seven months ago, a succubus constructed a castle in this area. She has captured every man that has travelled this road since her arrival, keeping them as slaves to sustain the Mamono she cares for.” She says “slaves” with a hint of jealousy.

“Before she came here, it was quite easy to find men travelling through the forest, when it was not yet a part of the Demon Realm. But in the past seven months our tribe and many of the other Mamono have been unable to find a single mate. If we do not find any more men soon, we will be forced to relocate. That is why we need you.” Rena finishes with a pleading expression.

“Where is this castle?”

The twins are surprised. Rina speaks, “Surely you do not intend to seek out such a place? You will become another slave of that succubus.” Again “slave” being said with jealousy as opposed to fear. “If you desire to become so corrupt, surely my sister and I would-“

“No. I have a mission to complete.”

Rina gives me a dirty look, “If you insist. If you continue down this road, you will eventually find the succubus’ castle.”

Having discovered the lead that I so desperately needed, I leave the Mamono twins without another word, much to their dismay. Unfortunately, Rina’s arousal magic disrupted my armor’s corruption wards, weakening their effect over me. I was running out of time.

I let the gravity of the situation sink in, using the adrenaline to fuel my dwindling energy and quicken my pace.



I sprint non-stop for the next hour-and-a-half, stopping when the road begins to slope downward into a valley. The forest continues into the valley, but opens up around a massive castle surrounded by a small town. A massive black tower rises from the center of the structure, demonic yellow pouring from its many windows. Sounds of revelry echo throughout the valley, originating from the base of the tower. It is obviously the succubus’ castle and the place that I would most likely find the vampire.

The journey into the valley is uneventful, the road completely empty. It seems my sticking to the shadows was entirely unnecessary. The sounds of music and laughter becomes louder and louder with each step. The road suddenly branches, one path going further East, the other curving North in the direction of the black castle. A sign proclaims that the Northern road will take me to a place called Rosencruz. I take the Northern road, sensing a drastic increase in demonic energy, much to my dismay. My immunity to the corruption is quickly wearing down.  

I run down the road, the sounds of festivities taking on an unnaturally high pitch. The sounds screw into my head, causing me to run as quickly as I can. I close my eyes due to the pain and scream as loud as I can.

The music stops. I open my eyes and slide to a stop in front of a lowered drawbridge. Dark water trickles by in a mote under the drawbridge, flowing away into the darkness. I didn’t notice it before, but the black stones of the castle sparkle with flakes of white crystal. I carefully cross the wooden drawbridge, entering the castle through a portcullis.

The first sight that greets me as I enter the fortress is a well-manicured courtyard. A cobblestone path leads from the portcullis, branching at forty-five degrees on either side of a massive fountain. In the center of the fountain a statue of a well-endowed succubus sprays a purple liquid from her teats and crotch, replenishing the pool over which she stands. Besides the gurgling of the obscene fountain, the courtyard is eerily quiet.

The paths appear to lead to small groves of turquoise-leaved trees with very thick foliage on either side of the central building. A decide to avoid the paths and head straight for the building, skirting the fountain and vaulting over a row of purple hedges. I find myself in a plaza filled with more obscene statues, the spire of the main building rising unbelievably high above me. The base of the spire appears to be shaped like a giant “+” sign, with the spire in the center. The buildings that make up the lines of the “+” all resemble churches, boasting spires and stained-glass windows with depictions of sex.

I cross the plaza and stand in front of the massive wooden doors of the sex-church. They open slightly on their own, releasing the demonic yellow light I witnessed before, along with a massive amount of undistinguishable noise. As the doors swing farther and farther apart, the scene within becomes more and more visible, causing me to retch dryly.

The interior of the church is just as ornate and gilded as the greatest churches in Lescatie. The ceiling is held fifty feet off the ground by stone pillars made from the same material as the rest of the castle. Giant glass domes set in the ceiling give a breath-taking view of the sky, surely becoming even more magnificent at night. Torches are mounted to the pillars and walls and hang from the ceiling in awe-inspiring chandeliers, all blazing with unnaturally golden light. But the worst part of the church’s contents was laid before me, reaching into the bowels of the church.

 Wooden framed bed after wooden framed bed stretch off into the interior of the church, arranged like pews in a church, their frames carved with sexual and demonic iconography. Every single bed is occupied by a Mamono and her incubus, hundreds if not thousands of couples engaging in various forms of masturbation. The air is thick with the salty stench of it, overpowering my olfactory senses even with my helmet on.

The actions of the church’s patrons suddenly stop, all of them looking to the center of the hall. There, standing in front of an ornate throne, is a succubus. To her left stands a woman in an elegant white wedding dress, a veil covering her face. The pair remain where they stand, staring at me, tempting me to close the distance.

I pull the shield from my back and draw my broadsword, advancing with purpose in my step. The succubus would tell me the whereabouts of the vampire. The eyes of the many monster couples follow my progress to the center of the hall. I stop at the foot of the throne and point my sword at the succubus.

Her long golden-blonde hair flows down her front, covering the ruddy skin of her naked chest. Grey horns crown her head and a set of nimble-looking black wings grow from the small of her back. The only article of clothing she wears is a pair of black lace panties.

“Welcome, hero.” she says in a honey-sweet voice.

“Where is the vampire?”

She gives me a confused look, feigning ignorance before she smiles mischievously.

“Oh! You mean Elizabeth? The succubus gestures to the bride standing next to her.

“She is right here, of course.”

The bride slowly descends from the throne, the way in which she rocks her hips making me think that she’s trying too hard to look sexually pleasing. She takes the last step, standing at the same height as me with the help of her heels. Flipping back the veil with a gloved hand, the face of a beautiful girl with alabaster skin greets me, her ruby-red eyes glittering in the demonic light. Her ears are pointed like those of the dark elf twins and her face is slightly flushed.

She gulps, takes a deep breath and looks me squarely in the face.

“Will you marry me?” she asks confidently.

A moment of silence passes. My eyes dart to the succubus standing behind the vampire, looking for any signs of trickery. Instead, she just smiles in encouragement and mouths the words, “Say ‘yes!’”

I return my gaze to the vampire, Elizabeth.


She looks genuinely crushed, her face contorting as she attempts to stop herself from crying.

I raise my sword in preparation for a sideways slash, aimed to sever the vampire’s head from her shoulders.

“Are you sure?” the succubus joins the vampire bride in front of me.


A moment passes, during which I take in my surroundings. The vampire has begun to cry, trying to hide her tears with her slender hands. The monster couples in their sex-pews give me disapproving looks, some mumbling to each other.

“The poor girl…”

“What is that guy’s problem? He should just marry her and have sex already…”

“What a prick. You reject a girl’s proposal and then threaten her with a sword? He must be a virgin…”

 “Ugghhh, I can’t believe that I had to stop right before my orgasm for this…”

This is my first mission as a Demon Hunter. I have traveled many miles and fought these accursed Mamono. Was all my training for nothing? Why? Why can’t I finish my mission? Because this is not the scenario I had envisioned? Yes, but there’s more to it than that. Something is not right…

“You cannot kill Elizabeth, can you?” the succubus says with a knowing grin.

I maintain my stance.

“You actually do not hate Mamono. I have -,” she corrects herself, glancing at Elizabeth, “We have seen your true nature.”

The succubus pauses, looking for signs of hesitation from me. Seeing none, she begins chanting in a demonic tongue before indicating Elizabeth and then herself. When next I blink, Rina stands in place of the vampire, Rena in place of the succubus. Both are wearing the same attire from when I first met them.

I step back cautiously.

The succubus, now Rena, speaks, “I had anticipated that the Order would send someone after Elizabeth, so I instructed one of my hellhounds to lie in wait for them.”

She must be incredibly powerful, to be able to tame a hellhound like that.

“Once I witnessed your potential in the ensuing fight, I knew I had found the right man for Elizabeth. I insisted that she see you in person to make the decision for herself.”

I turn to the vampire, “What happened to the wagon? Why did you leave the young man who helped you escape?”

Rina sighs contemptuously. “That filthy man wanted to have his way with me, but I would not let him. In my rage I flipped the wagon on its side, crippling it irreparably. By that time, Lady Rosencruz appeared and offered me a deal; she would find me a suitable husband if I swore my fealty to her.”

“The way you fight, the way you carry yourself,” she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, “I must have you.” She turns to Rena, “Is he ready?”

The succubus reappears in place of Rena, nodding. She raises her arms, issuing a command to the patrons of the church.

“My fellow Mamono, I ask that you all commence with your morning copulations. Fill your wombs with the semen of your treasured husbands and the air with your combined sexual energies. On this day, we celebrate the marriage of Elizabeth Ruthven to her Heroic husband, may their days be filled with love and desire for each other!

The Mamono begin engaging in every kind of sex imaginable, lewd noises permeating the air. The succubus has ascends her throne, basking in the sexual energies being released by her followers, all the while Elizabeth approaches me with her arms outstretched.

“I will have you as my husband.” the vampire demands flatly.

I walk backwards, matching her pace, keeping the distance between us. Escape from this church and its overpowering sexual energy needs to be my priority.

I turn tail and run full-sprint for the massive doors, ignoring the surprised yells made by Elizabeth, demanding me to stop. I slip through the gap between the doors, rushing to the center of the plaza. I turn to meet the vampire head-on and barely raise my shield in time to block a powerful sword-strike. The vampire has summoned a demonic sword, its midnight-black blade reflecting no light.

Elizabeth lays into me, even if her attacks are only aimed at crippling me, I have never been this pressed. I successfully block them all, but the exhaustion from my journey suddenly sets in. As a result, I am unprepared for the ripping sound of fabric, followed by a massive force that sends me flying into one of the succubus’ statues. As I rise unsteadily, I spot the pair of massive bat wings that have sprouted from the vampire’s back. Wasting no time she flies at me, gliding just above the ground at high speed.

I parry her relentless sword thrust with a parry, but the attack is so powerful that it snaps my blade. I roll away, but don’t bring my shield up in time to block a downward stab. The black blade pierces through the front and back of my right shoulder armor, literally pinning me to the ground. My already taxed anti-corruption seals shatter in a brilliant explosion of blue light.

I scream in pain, trying desperately to push the vampire away with my shield. She simply slaps it from my grasp, sending it skidding across the ground.

She growls at me through clenched teeth, “You have lost, Hero.”

Her expression suddenly changes to one of concern, ruby eyes softening considerably. She reasons with me, “Your magical seals are destroyed, your blade is broken, and you cannot use your right arm. Please, would you stop fighting?”

Still I try to push her away with my left hand, but my strength has all but disappeared, my shove becoming nothing more than a gentle nudge.

“Your indomitable spirit is the reason why I fell in love with you.” she continues, taking my left hand in her right, holding it to her chest. “I have nothing left. My father must be gone after he helped me escape and the man who helped me only wanted to have sex. Lady Rosencruz was nice to me, but she cannot offer me the companionship of a husband. Please accept me. Accept the fact that you do not hate us.”

I can feel the demonic energy soaking into me from the blade of her sword, corrupting me. She watches the growing pool of blood around my shoulder with fear instead of the desire I was expecting. Perhaps she does care about me? Or maybe the blood-loss and corruption are affecting me.

“Please hurry.” she whispers to me. “Do not die.”

The sword melts from her hand, like black sand blowing away in the wind. I attempt to withdraw my hand from her breast, but she holds it tightly.

“No, I will not let you go.” tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes.

I guess she really did fall in love with me.

“Please, let me remove my helmet.”

She reluctantly lets go of my hand. I clumsily undo the various clasps on my helmet, where it meets my bodysuit. It comes free and rolls away. The demonic air rushes over my sweat-drenched features, smelling fresh and sweet. I stare directly at her.

“Since a very young age, I had trained with the Order, becoming one of the best swordsmen in Lescatie. With the Chief God’s blessing, I was given the title ‘Demon Hunter,’ a warrior that specializes in strike missions to this realm. This sacred one-of-a-kind armor was also awarded to me, its ability being the repulsion of the Demon Realm’s corruption. I was the first of my kind and this was my first mission.”

I close my eyes and sigh, the breath shuddering unhealthily.

“The reason why I was chosen to be the first Demon Hunter was because I have a natural fear of women, including Mamono. The Order took advantage of this, turning my fear into hate. I never had a relationship or even held a conversation with a woman, but recently I’ve had a change of heart.”

She delicately lifts my upper body, holding me in a loving embrace.

“I’ve lost my reason for fighting, so I guess I’ll stay with you. You don’t’ have to be alone anymore.”

“I’m so glad.” she says, dropping her tone of superiority. I feel the warmth of healing magic flood over my shoulder, closing my wound. “Thank you for accepting me.”






                                      THE END