Mordecai

The Demons of Midwich
by Rudh

Image, artwork I commissioned from Xyholic

The cool autumn wind shoved back up the blue cloak's hood to reveal Mordecai's long black hair wisped out and flowing on it. Savagely the cold air blew across his face; pushing aside his red bangs to reveal golden orbs for eyes. The blue leather cloak flapped about the Hunter in the harsh winds. Those golden eyes were fixed upon the black object in the near distance.

The black spear jutted up from ground with a silver blade upon it's tip. It was a sign post for Hunters. On it a single parchment rattled in the breeze.
Mordecai's white gloved hands tore the rattling paper free from the spear. It was written in the Hunter Code; an old and archaic language only understood by those whom hunted the creatures of darkness. It spoke of a Demon Hunter being needed in Midwich Village.

Mordecai pocketed the parchment as he felt another presence near him. He looked away from the spear as he headed north, towards Midwich Village. He halted when he had only taken a few steps away from the spear. Something on the autumn breeze reeked.

A voice hissed in his ears, "I would not take that offer. If you do..."

Mordecai leaped out of the way as a blade forged of air shot towards his back. He rolled on the rocky ground and came to a crouched position. Golden eyes met those of milky white ones.

"Wind Elemental." Mordecai surmised as he gazed at the almost transparent body of the nude male before him. Mordecai gathered up dirt in his hand and casted it out as the earth spell took effect. Pillars of stone raised up, capturing the nude male within it.

Mordecai turned his back upon the wind elemental; feeling secured that the pillars would hold it long enough for him to get a good distance away, and plan out a better strategy.

A loud, piercing scream tore through the air; followed by an even louder expolsion. Mordecai turned back to see the wind elemental soaring through the air towards him. In his hands he held a blade made out the air.

The Wind Elemental's voice hissed, "Foolish Wiccan, your little tricks will not work on me."

The red banged male raised up his hands and chanted out the archaic words. A yellowish orange light engulfed him. The elemental's blade shattered against the barrier. Winds raged around Mordecai as he tried to hold up the barrier and keep his ground.

He recognized it now. Those eyes; it was a sign that the elemental had been possesed by a demonic aura. He pulled out several orbs from his pouches as he continued to try and hold up the barrier spell.

Mordecai dropped the barrier spell. His body was pulled in every direction by the strong winds encompassing his leanly muscled body. The cloak that covered his body ripped to shreds on sharp, tiny blades of air. Soon his own leather armor was starting to become tattered from it.

"I release you." Mordecai shouted as he used a current of air to soar downward towards the elemental. His hand holding the spell components smashed through the transparent body and opened. A loud shriek filled the air. The elemental collapsed to the ground holding it's chest and screaming in pain.

The wind raged around him; blowing black and red strands of hair across Mordecai's face. He turned his back upon the elemental. He had his next quest. He wondered if the elemental had a connection with the demons in Midwich. He supposed he would find out upon his arrival.

****************

The town was deserted. It was odd. He didn't understand it. There was no movement along the streets. No noise; not even the sound of animals. It felt as though he had walked into a dead village. Worse, the air did not feel right in this area. There was no demonic aura. Yet a heavy scent of blood and death filled the town.

Mordecai walked towards one of the shambled buildings. He kicked open the door. His gloved hands quickly covered his mouth and nostrils. THe foul reek of death raised up from the disease rotted corpses. Some dark plague had settled over Midwich. He didn't understand it. Then he heard something he least expected. A crow's annoying caw filled his ears. He turned out of the house, still holding his nostril and mouth with his one hand.

Another black spear rested in the ground that had not been there before. On that spear a small black crow sat. Their golden orbs locked with each other. It was a bad omen. Blackbirds usually followed death. He had not encountered one for many years now. The last time he had seen one while on a mission had almost been his death.

Once more there was a note on the spear. He didn't understand whom was playing with him. But he intended to find out. He was getting tired of this strange game and it had only just begun as far as Mordecai could figure out.

He read the note. It said something about an undergound passage in the Midwich Mill. He didn't see what other choice he had. He made his way out of the town for the Mill at the stagnant lake that rested on the outskirts of Midwich.

The walk had not taken him long. He had not resupplied since the last village before Midwich; which meant that his food stores were low. He had to conserve everything he had left until he finished this mission.

*************************

Nicodemus' slender black fingernails trailed over the freshly slain corpse. Nicodemus' fingers trailed along the inside of the deep gash down the cadaver's chest. The nude youth laid sprawled out on the bed, his sperm on the lips of Melichior. The two purpled haired demon lords smiled at each other.

Melichior whined, "He was barely any fun at all. These mortal hunters are so easily taken. It is growing boring. How much longer are we going to play with these pathetic creatures?"

Nicodemus sensually crawled across the cold, blond's body. His black painted lips kissed those unpainted ones of his twin brother. "I have found an interesting play toy. After him we shall go back to just the two of us. He is a Wiccan. A very rare find, Melichin."

Melichior pressed his own lips back against Nicodemus'. He pushed his tongue passed his slightly elder brother's lips. The warmth of Nicodemus' mouth sent shivers of pleasure up the demon lord's shaft and spine. Nicodemus could tell that his brother wanted him very badly. Nicodemus pulled back. He smiled at the petulant look in Melichior's eyes.

"Patient, Melichin. It'll be fun this time. I promise you."

"It had better. This one died so quick. It was hardly worth the effort to ensnare him." He pointed at the dead blond, hunter.

*********************************

The chambers were ice cold. His body shivered slightly. Even being a Wiccan he still had little resistance to this strength of weather. A normal human would not have lasted longer then a few minutes within the cavern beneath the Mill. It was very unnatural. Icicles hung down from the wall, and the ice covered ground had to be treaded carefully. He callously walked through the frozen corpses. He had seen many horrible things in his life and job as a hunter. This was nothing to him. His frame remained stoic.

He halted abruptly and then inquired in a soft monotone, "How long do you plan on watching, demon?"

Hands clapping had filled the air as he stepped out of the ice, "Impressive. What was it that gave me away to you?"

Mordecai did not turn around to face the demon that was behind him and continued to speak in his monotone voice, "The bodies. You are not that different from a spider, demon. You trap them in your ice, and then slowly feed upon every aspect of them. I can feel the heartbeat through the ice of some that are not yet dead."

Once more applause answered him, "Very impressive indeed. Truly you are a real Wiccan. It has been a long time since I have seen one of your kind. It is a shame that will not allow me to keep you for my own amusements."

The Wiccan told the demon, "I will not allow you to continue to feast upon these suffering souls, or anyone else foolish enough to stumble into here."

Mordecai moved quickly out of the way as frost rays jabbed towards him. He easily avoided them. His long black hair billowed out behind him as he landed to face the demon.

He had never seen such a beautiful low level demon before. The body was pale as the frost that he used to imprison his prey. The creature was a pristine albino. Those red eyes had intelligence to them; but it hunger dominated that gaze.

"Yes, such a shame my mission is only to capture you for my masters." The ice demon remarked.

The Wiccan knew he could not win this easily. The entire cavern was to the benefit of the demon. He leaped away only to realize he couldn't escape the ice. It surrounded him. He made no noise as the cracking ice sealed over top of his flesh and battered clothing.

His golden eyes gazed out towards the ice demon. He was still aware; despite his prison of ice. He felt the hand of the ice demon trailing along his chest and stomach towards his groin. He would have gasped if he could as he felt the hand sensually stroking over the air from within the ice.

He felt his body growing numb from the extreme cold that was coming over his body. The groping through the ice had a double purpose that Mordecai now understood. The ice demon was taking away most of his body's heat. He didn't know what he could do to escape, and before he could think of anything his mind had slipped into unconscious.

****************************

Nicodemus grinned at the body trapped within the ice. He looked good enough to eat. He planned on doing that once they were done pleasuring their flesh upon the Hunter. The trap had suceeded at last. Here was a prey and pet worthy of the Demon Lords of Midwich. The city had once prospered for human standards. It had been the Demon Lords had set the plague in the city and sent out calls for hunters to come slay them. But none had even gotten this far before. Nicodemus was very impressed.

"Bring him to our chambers, vassal." Nicodemus ordered the ice demon. Nicodmus looked towards Melichior whom was oddly grinning as well.

"I take you approve of this one, Melichin?" Nicodemus inquired.

His only answer was the grin upon his face, and that made Nicodemus' smile grow as well. The two demon lords departed from the ice demon.

***********************

Left alone with the being the ice demon reached into the block. His hands grasped onto the being. He pulled him gently from the block; but the ice still surrounded his body. He smiled as his tongue licked at the icy cold flesh. He could taste that cold salty tang of mortal flesh through the ice. He frowned as the eyes of the Wiccan closed. That never had happened to him before.

He felt himself flung back. He cursed as he saw that somehow the Wiccan had managed to break through his skill. Worse he saw that the other held a strange fire based weapon made a from the frigid air around them.

He hissed as he flung himself along with hundreds of sharp spears of ice towards the red banged mortal. He gasped in shock, blood gushed out of his mouth and chest as he was somehow impaled upon his own ice spears. He didn't understand it.

He heard the voice echo into his mind as he lay near death, "Illusion spell. I used some of my powers to heat the air around the ice enough to crack it open."

"Impress..." was his last word.

******************

Mordecai found himself inside a strange castle. It was odd. He had seen no castle in the area; only mountains. Then he understood. The demon lords had hidden their caslte to blend in with the mountains. He had never truly fought demon lords before. They had always been lesser creatures like the ice demon or the powerful Nobility; but nothing like these cunning minds from hell.

"What a pleasant thing to think." A disembodied voice spoke aloud.

"So you are not going to show yourself, demon lords of Midwich?" Mordecai inquired ina calm voice.

The voice sniffed, "In due time hunter. Tell us how you escaped from the ice demon."

"With simple tricks. After all it was your kind's creation that made us Wiccans. So you should expect more from me then the average hunter." Mordecai told them rationally.

Laughter filled the chamber, "True. That is why we have been waiting a long time for a Wiccan to show up. Normal mortal hunters are so boring, and easily killed and captured by now. But you are giving us a good show."

Shadows leaped from the torches along the wall. He recognized them at once, Shadow Ghouls. He began to chant and reach for his spell components in his pouch. He finished the spell in time. Unfortunately he found his body slammed to the ground.

He didn't understand. The spell should have taken out at least a few of the shadow ghouls. He kept his calm as one bit into his shoulder and another bit into his leg. It was the third that bit into his stomach that made him scream in pain.

His magic was somehow being neutralized now that he had entered into the true domain of the demon lords. That was the only answer he could think of. But he didn't understand why.


He lay wounded and bleeding over the white carpet. The shadow ghouls abruptly vanished. The torches grew more bright as the two purple haired demon lords descended down the spiral, marble staircase at the far back of the chamber. His golden eyes watched them as they approached. He didn't like the gleam their dark blue eyes. It made him feel nervous.

The Wiccan felt like he wasn't even in his body as the twins plucked him up from the ground as though he were only a rag doll. His body was limp in their hands. He found himself somewhat walking up the spiral staircase for a long distance. All the way up he felt the eyes of other lesser demons; most likely servants of the demon lords, watching him with hunger and interest.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs to large onyx doors opened on their own. Mordecai groaned in pain as his wounded body was thrown like a neglected doll to the floor. He tried to stand up, but found that he couldn't. His body was still limp from the attack of the shadow ghouls.

****************************

Nicodemus sat down upon the back of the Wiccan as Melichior crouched before the red banged one's head, his deep, cold blue eyes burning with desire. Nicodemus easily knew the thoughts of his twin. The two of them often communacted through telepathy with one another when boredom didn't make them speak verbally to each other for the unique experience.

The long purple haired demon pulled the boots and stockings from the feet of their prey. He felt himself wildly thrown off of the Wiccan by his younger brother. His long purple hair acting as a curtain over his face as he leaned on his hands and knees upon the warm floor.

His voice hissed at seeing Melichior trying to remove their fresh prey's pants. He moved sensually and laungishly back towards his twin and Mordecai. His body stretching out in each movement to show it off to both his twin and the red banged one. A small part of his red robe fell from his shoulder to reveal the tight, sleeveless black body glove he wore beneath the red robe as he crawled towards Mordecai.

"Do not be so eager, little brother. We shall enjoy this one for at least century. He is still quite young, even for a Wiccan. They do not age as other mortal creatures." Nicodemus tried to reason with his brother's sense of desire and pleasure. Nicodemus prefered to take things slow; while his brother was the opposite of him in that respect.

Nicodemus' black fingernailed hands grasped onto the Wiccan's ankles and turned him over onto his backside. Melichior's own hands slowly pulled the tight fitting leather shirt from Mordecai's body. The two grinned darkly at each other at their view.

The Wiccan grimaced as Melichior's fingers gently probed along the edges of the wound the ghouls had inflicted upon his stomach. Nicodemus' tongue licked along the inside of the leg wound; causing further pain to the helpless Wiccan. Nicodemus strengthened the demonic aura around the chambers to keep their prize from escaping. They had waited to long to let this pleasure be over with so quickly.

Nicodemus pulled back with a frown as the leg wound was slowly closing flesh over the wound, "It would appear his minor wounds are healing over. We cannot allow that, can we brother?"

But Melichoir was to lost in his own pleasures to answer or listen to Nicodemus. Nicodemus stood up, and shot an angry glare towards Melichoir whom was now busy suckling on the face of Mordecai as his fingers continued to play with the open stomach wound.

The demonlord with long purple hair made a slight gesture with his index finger. The body of the Wiccan stood up as Melichior stumbled back. Nicodemus advanced towards Mordecai once more. His hand cupped the ching and forced the red banged one's golden orbs stare fearfully into his own dark blue depths of hell.

"You are different from the other Wiccans I have seen. Your body heals to fast. It took weeks for other Wiccans to heal from our pets' wounds." Nicodemus remarked with a sly smirk; but then frowned as he saw that Melichior would not be prevented from his fun. His tongue licked along the salty flesh of the mortal's neck as Nicodemus held Mordecai's chin cupped.

Mordecai found a voice to speak though he knew not how, "How many before me?"

Nicodemus kept that smirk upon his lips, "I honestly don't remember. It was so long ago since we last had a Wiccan playmate. Melichior has even forgotten we had one, it was so long ago."

His lips sealed over Mordecai's as Melichior continued to lick over the exposed body of the golden eyed male. Nicodemus' tongue forced its way through the teeth into the moist inside of the red banged one's mouth. The conquest of the kiss itself sent shivers of pleasure through the demon lord's body.

He slowly slipped out of his crimson robe, and still kept the kiss going on. His tongue exploring every inch of that mouth. Melichior was obviously growing impatient. His greedy fingers tore the tight leather pants from the Wiccan's body.

Nicodemus supposed he could allow Melichior to have the first plunge. Afterall he planned on other occasions when it would be simply himself and the Wiccan alone. It would be then that he would take the most pleasure from his new found pet.

It did not take Melichior long to gain what he sought from Mordecai. He had plunged his hard dick several times into the Wiccan before releasing and falling asleep on the floor at the feet of the red banged one.

Nicodemus had felt every shiver and vibration through both their bodies from the close contact. He pulled back allowing the Wiccan to breath and moan. Nicodemus smiled at the hardon of his prey. He lowered down and took him fully into his mouth without gagging. He had centuries of experience and he knew how to pleasure another being so that it pleasured himself as well. His tongue licked over the tip of the shaft only; dispite taking him fully into his mouth. His hands clawed into the flesh as they ravaged up and down along his legs. Blood trickled out of the Wiccan as he cried in both pain and pleasure.

The sound brought pleasure to the ears of Nicodemus. Once more he was grinning as he enjoyed himself. He pulled back as he felt the preseed leaking from the shaft. He licked the blood from his hands. The taste of the blood alone could have made him release if he had not been more skilled in this art.

He stood up and walked around so that he now stood behind Mordecai. His hand tightly grasped onto the Wiccan's shaft as he thrusted his hard member into the hole. His eight inch shaft plunged deep inside the hole. He noticed that Melichior had not been this Wiccan's first to do thus to him. He wondered how many others had taken this Wiccan. Jealousy surged through his body and made him stretch muscle more and tighten his hold on the golden eyed male's hard on. He had wanted this prize only for himself and his little brother. The idea that someone else had been with his prey set his fangs on edge.

He pounded harder and harder into the hole. Mordecai moaned and screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Nicodemus' rage building with his desire until at least both being released their seeds. He gestured with his hand, and the body of Mordecai flung onto the large bed in the corner. His demonic aura held the Wiccan pinned down.

He snarled as he advanced upon the other, "Slut. Filthy man-whore. You took the pleasure of stealing your chasity from me. For that you shall be punished. But that is for another night. I shall let Melichior play with you until he grows bored with you. Then you shall learn true terror, little Wiccan."

The anger was replaced with a calm outrage. That smile upon the demon lord's face obviously sent chills all over Mordecai's body as he lay helpless, and limp upon the bed.

Nicodemus crisply turned away from his brother and the Wiccan. He walked out of the chambers.


The End??????