The Power to Rule
Winter was upon the country, flooding the landscape with a deathly chill. Yet it wasn’t the cold that sent shivers down everyone’s spine. It was fear. Following the gray breeze, rumors were flowing from the north, rumors of death and destruction. Entire towns were either being razed with no survivors, or left hollow, with food still sitting on the tables, like everyone had been raptured away. There were stories of a monster in the woods in the north, about how a town called Senner met its wrath, but there was no evidence to back that up, as it looked like the whole area had been struck by a meteor. Even the forests had gone silent, the people of the wilderness vanishing out of thin air.
To the citizens of New England, nightfall invoked a unique fear, both new in experience, yet primordial and instinctive. When the sun disappeared below the horizon, it was like God had closed his eyes, and left humanity to fend for itself against whatever evil dwelled in the dark.
=============
A line of military trucks and vans rolled down the empty highway, their destination being the town of Dexter, the most recent scene of this mysterious nightmare. The media paid little attention to the northern states, seeing them as a lost frontier that the government barely had a hold over. Anything north of Boston was considered the badlands. However, the stories of towns being “attacked” were turning heads, especially since the phenomenon seemed to be heading south.
Now, the government was getting involved, searching for answers in the deathly silence. The convoy consisted of the FBI, searching for human causes, the CDC, looking for viral causes, and the National Paranormal Examination Branch, on the lookout for causes relating to the war. Keeping them all safe was a contingent of the National Guard, with turret-mounted machine guns ready to shoot anything, be it alive or undead. Similar convoys were heading out to the other affected towns, one on its way to Senner.
Driving behind a National Guard personnel carrier were the two leading agents of the NPEB. The older of the two, Agent Bosman, was driving while incessantly scratching dandruff out of his beard. His partner was named Locke, and he was examining reports from other scenes.
“You’ll get sick if you keep reading those stories,” said Bosman.
“I have a strong stomach. A few ghost stories won’t scare me.”
“I meant because you’re reading on the road. I don’t want to hear you moaning the rest of the day because you got carsick.”
“It’s one of those rumors from Senner. Supposedly, not only did a young man transform into some kind of horrific monster, but he turned two other citizens into zombies.”
“Nonsense. If the pandemic had returned, we’d be seeing a lot more undead.”
“Not necessarily. We’re deep in the state. Entire armies could be hiding in those trees.”
“But they don’t know how to hide. Even if by some twist of fate, zombies did return, then why would they be any different from before? Even if they were able to clear out these towns, there would always be a dozen or so stragglers and a huge mess left behind. They’re just mindless drones.”
“If it happened once, it can happen again, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen the same way. Maybe the virus mutated, made them smarter or something. Apparently, a hunting party was even sent into the woods, and they encountered something… demonic. Jesus.”
Before Bosman could retort, a voice crackled on their radio. “This is Sergeant Barns. We’ve reached Dexter. You… might want to look up.”
The convoy slowed, with the drivers and passengers of every vehicle looking towards the sky. There was a highway sign above the road, labeling the offramp leading to Dexter. Hanging from the sign were three bodies, all with their intestines dangling freely, two men and a woman.
“Zombies sure as fuck don’t do that.”
They went down the offramp, now seeing cars for the first time as they entered the perimeter of the city. All the cars had been driven off the road with their tires slashed and their exteriors looking like they had been hacked at with chainsaws. Their inhabitants were visible only as silhouettes, as all the windows had been splattered with blood. In the town, it was just as everyone expected. Bodies littered the streets, either cast aside like garbage or put on some kind of horrific display with varying forms of desecration and mutilation.
In the center of town, field agents unloaded their equipment to begin surveying the damage. They all split up, each group guarded by the National Guard. As per CDC warning, everyone wore masks, goggles, and rubber gloves, so as to avoid possible contamination. Beyond their work, the town was as silent as a graveyard. The only difference, was that here, the bodies had yet to be buried. They all bore the same injuries, vicious claw and teeth marks, like they had been mauled by wild animals, nothing smaller than a bear at the least. Despite the vast splotches of blood painting the city, each body was bone dry.
The departments moved interchangeably through the different areas, making sure they all saw everything. Eventually, Locke crossed paths with the head investigator of the FBI, Special Agent Dunham. She was a cute brunette, but she was missing her gloves, and with a coffee-cup in her hand, her calloused knuckles were on display, a testament to her love-hate relationship with the punching bag at her local gym.
“Any theories?” she asked as he approached.
“If this was the work of zombies, then it would have to be a mutated strain of the disease, causing physical and mental enhancements.”
She was leaning against a power line pole, but Locke took her arm and gently pulled her away. Her first instinct told her to wrench her arm free and open up some distance, but the way he was looking up, she just took the hint and stepped away. She followed his gaze, spotting a body impaled on the pole. Jesus, how did she miss that?
“Please tell me you have a counter theory,” he said.
She shook her head. “It wasn’t marauders. Look at the roads, no tire marks. If it was a roving gang, they would had burst into town with their tires screeching and squealing. There are plenty of bullet casings, likely from the armed civilians, but no sign that anyone was shooting at them, not a single bullet wound. There is also almost no destruction, nothing missing. But what really concerns me is that whatever did it left no bodies behind. If this was done by the undead or some other non-human creatures, then someone should have managed to kill at least one.”
“Meaning they either took the bodies when they left, or the people were simply unable to kill any.”
“Hey! Over here!” Locke looked over to Bosman, waving from an alley. He and Dunham rushed over. It was another body. “Look at this.”
He was pointing down at a patch of snow, in which a footprint had been left behind, but not the footprint of a human. It had four toes, each with long talons, along with a fifth toe behind the ball of the foot. The print was massive, as if belonging to a raptor from Jurassic Park.
Dunham crouched down to get a closer look. “This print… It’s like something from a predatory bird, or some kind of quadrupedal animal.”
Bosman motioned to the body. “But look at the bite wound here on the neck of the vic. Humanoid bite pattern, but with much sharper teeth, and…” he held up a measuring tape to study the width, “a mandible almost one and a half times bigger than a regular human.”
Locke stepped back, looking at the scene to try and imagine the creature in its entirety. He moved his hands in the air to segment the feet, the imaginary legs, the torso, and the head. “A person with a mouth that big would have to be… a good seven, eight feet tall?”
“If we’re talking gigantism, then yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Add in the altered structure of the legs and we’re talking ten to twelve feet.”
Both Bosman and Dunham looked up, trying to visualize a creature that size.
“God, help us,” Dunham murmured.
=============
Augusta, the capital of Maine, sat on the bank of the Kennebec River. While not as large as the city of Portland, and too far inland to handle maritime commerce, it was positioned perfectly to control the belt of civilization that stretched along the coast from Bangor to the New Hampshire border. To enforce its authority, the city had been heavily renovated during the reconstruction movement, with massive buildings and a concrete jungle replacing what had originally been a rural town before the war. Normally bustling, it was quiet on this night, the overcast blocking out the moon and stars and robbing what little courage anyone had to be out after sundown. Even artificial light seemed weakened, hindered by a fog that rolled in off the river and entombed everything.
Not all was silent. There were hurried steps, a scrawny teenager running down the sidewalk, fleeing from a pursuer that wasn’t there. The only thing chasing him was his own anxiety. He kept by the light as much as he could, only sighing in relief when he finally reached the Moose Head Tavern. He circled around and entered through the backdoor. His apron was waiting for him on a hook by the light switch. As he walked past the kitchen, the bartender, a large man with a head like a fuzzy potato, stepped out with two baskets of fries.
“Eric? You’re certainly here early. Your shift doesn’t start for another hour.”
The boy was flushed and gasping for air, but he tried to play it off. “Yeah, well, the bus was delayed, so I decided to walk.”
“I’ve seen you walk here in the rain without being this early. Look at yourself, you look like you’re about to keel over. What’s going on with you?”
“I just… didn’t want to be on the streets any longer than I had to.”
The bartender rolled his eyes and walked back out with Eric following him. “Those are just stories. Don’t let some rumors by a bunch of hillbillies scare you shitless.”
“Haven’t you been watching the news? It’s been happening in more and more towns.”
“It’s probably just a prank or something, someone trying to stir things up. Here, take these to the girls.”
Eric took the two baskets and maneuvered out from behind the counter. The bar was lively as always, but filled only with men, save for two exceptions. In the back of the bar were two college girls that Eric knew well, Cho and Hijiri Misato, nineteen-year-old twins from Japan. Despite their relationship, their personalities were polar opposites. Hijiri, the younger sister, sat with her back to the wall. She kept her scarf on, even inside, and wore a long skirt over her black leggings. Her eyes were always downcast, afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. Despite her shyness, she was a world-class beauty, and her glasses gave her a sexy librarian look.
Cho, on the other hand, was using a second chair as a footrest to announce her presence to everyone in the bar. She wore sexy yoga pants and a tube top that showed off her midriff. Her coat was the same way, making sure her belly button ring was always visible. Similarly visible were her nipple piercings, poking through her top. Despite being D-cup, she rarely wore a bra. She truly rocked the slutty hotness department, though her personality left a lot to be desired. She was noisy, impatient, shameless, and all-around bossy. When looking at her flat-chested sister, one might think breast size equaled confidence.
“Christ, it’s about fucking time. Now go get us some shots,” Cho barked.
Hijiri slightly raised her head, but didn’t say anything. Eric knew that slight movement was her way of trying to tell her sister to be polite and that she didn’t want any heavy alcohol, but was too nervous to actually say it. Cho was a bitch, but she looked after Hijiri, and after all these years, Hijiri knew there was no point in trying to change her behavior.
“Hi, Eric,” she said softly, but with a small smile.
“Hey,” he replied in kind, finally having something to feel good about.
No warning, Cho just slapped him in the balls with the back of her hand, strong enough to nearly send him to the floor. “Know your place, virgin,” she said, not even looking at him.
“I’ll… I’ll get you your drink,” he said as he tried to maintain his balance. He hobbled towards the counter, but heard Hijiri’s voice.
“Our ride is here.”
He and Cho both looked out the front window, where a fancy town car sat, waiting.
“So? We’ll leave when we’re done. That driver is paid to wait.”
“Dad will be mad if we’re late.”
“Ugh, fine.”
The two of them gathered their things and left. No money was left on the table, and the bartender didn’t write down any numbers for a tab. Two underage girls eating and drinking at a bar for free, one of them always nervous and the other used to getting her own way. A town car waiting for them outside. An underage boy working behind the scenes, with all the patrons being men who were armed. All these traits had a common factor, the twins’ father: Lee Misato, “the Capone of the North”.
As his nickname suggested, he ran the state mafia, and by extension, the state itself, with his influence stretching to every town near the coast, from Bangor to Portland, as well as multiple city-states in the rural areas, and he was currently engaged in a war with the Boston mafia to expand his territory into other states. Rumor had it that he used to be a Yakuza, but fled to the states almost fifteen years ago with his daughters after a failed coup. His second coup was successful. This bar was one of the many businesses he owned, with the majority of its patrons being his underlings. So, of course, his daughters got free service. With most of the police on his payroll, Cho and Hijiri could do just about anything without consequences.
Their personalities had been shaped by this lifestyle. Hijiri felt an unspoken shame towards her father’s crimes, but it was in conflict with her gratitude for the happy and stable life, and her love for the only living member of her family, besides her sister. With illegal activities happening all around her, she had long since learned to keep her head down. She didn’t see or hear anything. As far as anyone was concerned, she didn’t exist, and if she didn’t exist, she could never get in trouble.
Cho, on the other hand, loved being the daughter of a mob boss. Since he came to power, she lived her life surrounded by money and yes-men. She got whatever she wanted, and Daddy would hear about anyone who got in the way of that. It was why she flaunted her looks, because no one dared touch her. Every man was afraid of her, so she’d tease them to add salt to the wound. To her, sex was just a means of dominating and humiliating any guy she deemed worthy enough for her to use. In a few years, she might even let Eric be her new whipping boy.
Eric himself was the son of one of Lee’s former underlings, killed during a botched drug deal. His mom was out of the picture, so Lee took care of Eric, keeping him out of the foster system and giving him a job at the bar with added monetary aid so that he could live on his own while going to school. He even pulled some strings to get him a scholarship for after he graduated. Like the twins, no one would bat an eye to his presence in this bar.
Eric’s shift dragged on, time and focus sweeping all thoughts and fears out of his head. As he worked, Misato’s men would ask him how he was doing, ask about school, if he was dating anyone. They were all friends of his father and kept an eye on him. They were good guys. The Moose Head was more like a close-knit club than a bar.
But someone didn’t know the rules.
It was towards the end of Eric’s shift when a stranger entered. Black overcoat, black hair, and a glint in his eye that anyone in the bar could recognize. He took a seat at the counter, seemingly oblivious to the eyes on him. There were only two reasons why a stranger would enter this bar. Either he didn’t know the kind of place it was, or he knew exactly the kind of place it was. All the men exchanged glances, trying to figure out if anyone knew him. If he was a stranger to all but one of them, that would make some sense. Was he invited?
“Whiskey, neat,” he said.
The bartender poured him his drink. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I just rolled into town.”
“From the south?”
“From the north.”
Brows furrowed, red flags being raised.
“How far north?”
The stranger smiled and took a drink. “Pretty far, up in the badlands. Though, I was just visiting for business.”
“Same for here? Business?”
“You could say that. I’m looking for someone. Lee Misato?”
The bartender turned to Eric. “Eric, it’s late enough. Time for you to head home.”
Eric obeyed and moved out of the bar to the back of the building. Before he could reach the door behind the kitchen, curiosity seized him. Did this stranger have something to do with what was happening upstate? Did he have any information? If he wanted to see Mr. Misato, then it had to be important. He crept back towards the bar, standing behind the door that was behind the counter. There was a small window, granting him a view of everyone inside. All the men were facing the stranger, waiting for any sign that the situation was heading south.
“And what could you possibly want from someone like Lee Misato?”
“I’m going to ask him to work for me.”
A laugh moved through the room, ending with the bartender. “I highly doubt you have anything worth his attention. Mr. Misato is a very busy man and doesn’t have time for small-timers like you.”
“It’s not a matter of consent. He’ll either obey or… well, I’ll simply make him obey.”
At that, all the men stood up, their hands on their holstered guns.
“Son, I’m going to give you this one warning. Leave town and don’t come back. There’s nothing for you here.”
“Wrong. ‘Nothing’ is all that will be left when I’m done. I suggest one of you gives me the information I want, before I have to take it by force.”
One of the men stepped forward, drawing his gun and pointing it at Dominion’s head. “Get the fuck out before I put the fear of God in you.”
Dominion got up and walked towards the door, but rather than reach for the handle, he turned with a grin on his face. “How about I show you what real fear is?”
It was then unleashed, his bloodlust, in all its unholy fury. It hit all the men like a tsunami of acid, the pain and terror literally washing over them. To meet Dominion’s eyes was like looking deep into Hell itself, to be assailed by the insidious will of the Inferno. It was an attack only on their minds, yet the fear it invoked ripped through their bodies. This terror, it burned them. It turned their blood toxic, filled their mouths with the taste of ash, and cut their lifespans in half. While not receiving the full brunt of it, even Eric was exposed, and it robbed him of the ability to stand.
After only a couple of moments, Dominion sealed away his killing intent. All the men in the bar looked like they had aged twenty years. Some immediately fell over, suffering heart attacks like the hunting party from Senner, but the rest did something he did not expect. Each man drew his pistol, and instead of opening fire on Dominion, he put the muzzle to his temple and pulled the trigger. It was simultaneous, all the men killing themselves.
The sound of gunfire shook Eric from his paralysis. He threw up on the floor and then staggered to his feet. He burst outside and ran away as fast he could, sobbing and vomiting with each step. As the boy ran off, Dominion looked at the bloodshed and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Since they had killed themselves, he couldn’t harvest their souls for information, and there was no one left alive for him to interrogate. The heart attack victims were dead the moment they hit the floor.
“Ugh, what a waste of perfectly good souls,” he cursed.
He had unleashed his bloodlust just to make them obedient, but rather than breaking their will to resist, he broke their will to live. It seemed he hit them with too much. He’d have to go easy next time, though it would be a lie to say he wasn’t a little proud of himself. He scared a room full of armed men so bad that they all committed suicide. That was an achievement worthy of another drink.
=============
Eric drove straight through the steel gate, smashing up the front of his car in the process and sending the two guards leaping into the hedges to avoid him. Even if he wasn’t semi-lucid from terror, the damage to the car wasn’t really on his mind. He had stolen it, carjacked a guy waiting at a stop light. Fear had made him do it, made him drag the guy out of the bar and beat him unconscious. He hit him so hard that his pinky finger was broken, but he was too delirious to feel pain. It was the first violent act of his life, but fear can make someone do crazy things.
Having arrived at the Misato mansion, he drove up to the front door while alarms blared. Armed guards seemed to come out of nowhere as he jumped out of the car. He didn’t even put it in park or turn it off, he just hit the brakes and scrambled out when he reached the door and let it roll off. The men, all with weapons raised, stared in confusion as they realized it was Eric. The boy threw himself at the double doors, beating his fist against the wood and sobbing.
“Mr. Misato! Mr. Misato, let me in!” he screamed.
The door was opened, a suited bodybuilder standing there. He was John, the head of security. “Eric, what the fuck are you doing?!”
Eric just pushed his way through, entering the vast entryway. Facing the front door was a wide staircase, down which Lee arrived. He was spry for his age and in good shape. Even without his power, it was easy for someone like him to get some arm candy.
“Eric, what happened? What’s wrong?”
“They’re dead! They’re all dead!” Eric threw himself at Lee but collapsed midstride, falling to his knees while gripping the man’s pants. “Everyone at the Moose Head is dead!”
Lee crouched down and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath and tell me what happened. Jesus, your finger!” But the boy was sobbing and hysterical.
“We have to get out of here! Get the girls and run!”
He grabbed Lee by the collar, but before he could continue talking, he spit up a mouthful of blood. An artery in his esophagus had ruptured from the stress. Most people would get shot for making a mess of Lee’s shirt. Even subordinates would get a finger chopped off, but the look of terror on the boy’s face told Lee that a stained $400 shirt was the least of his problems.
He was still coughing up blood, but Eric managed to speak the words. “Don’t let him find you. Don’t let him kill you.” Then he passed out.
Lee looked at his men, all dumbfounded. “Take care of the mess outside and get the doctor. John, help me get him upstairs!”
=============
He didn’t know when he woke up, it was still dark out, but Eric was screaming before he even opened his eyes. He felt hands on him, trying to hold him still. A light came on, it was Lee, but Eric kept thrashing. From the moment he closed his eyes, horrific phantasms assailed him, nightmares beyond de***********ion. They were the aftershocks of the biblical earthquake his mind had suffered back at the bar.
“Someone, help me!” Lee shouted. John came in and helped keep Eric pinned until he calmed down.
Once he became lucid, Eric looked around, realizing he was in one of the spare bedrooms. His hand was bandaged, likely done by the mob doctor. Lee always kept one nearby. His mind was working, but his heart was still racing, like he had just received a shot of adrenaline.
“Eric, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” Despite Lee’s words, the boy continued to hyperventilate. “I sent one of my men to the Moose Head. He told me everyone there killed themselves.” Eric finally began to calm down, but that was because he could see the fear and stress on Lee’s face. The way he spoke, it was like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was a hardened mob boss, used to sitting on a throne, but what his subordinate described at the bar made him feel like he had been tossed into the ocean during a hurricane. “I need you to tell me what happened.”
“A man… a man came in, looking for you. He was the Devil, he had to be. He said he wanted you to work for him. Everyone looked ready to jump him, but then… he did something. I saw his eyes, just barely through the glass, but…” Eric began to cry. “Christ, it was like he raped my soul! I don’t know what it was, but I felt true evil, it was as real as the air. He’s not fucking human! He’s a monster! I didn’t know it was possible to be so afraid of something. It’s like something from the war, but a billion times worse.
I know why they did it, why they killed themselves. I felt it, just like they did. No matter what, don’t let him kill you. I thought I was afraid to die, but there are things so much worse than death! If he’s the one that kills you… you WILL go to Hell. If he kills you, you’ll suffer more than you ever thought possible. I was in the back, by the kitchen. I thought that if I slit my wrists, or if I lit myself on fire, then I’d be safe from him.
Please, Mr. Misato, we have to get out of here. Leave the state, leave the country. Go to the other side of the fucking world! We can’t be here!”
“Eric, listen to me. I’m going to take care of everything. You did well in telling me all this. Now get some rest.” Lee then stepped out of the room with John. “Double the guard, and make sure the police don’t go sniffing around the bar. I’m not sure even I can cover this up. And tell the doc to give Eric something to knock him out.”
“Do you believe him?”
“That boy has seen people killed before. For something to scare him that bad and cause all those deaths, I’m ready to believe in just about anything.”
A guard approached them, dressed in a black suit and with a shaved head like John. “Sir, your daughters are asking questions.”
“Tell them to go back to sleep. And tell them that they are not allowed to leave the house until further notice. Lock them in their rooms if you have to. Whatever is going on, we have to end it before it gets any worse.”
=============
The sun took its time in rising that morning. A palpable chill was on the air, and it seemed to lick the hearts of all those within the Misato syndicate, all those who knew that there was a new danger in their territory. The dawn’s gray fingers slipped through the window blinds in Lee’s home office, reflecting off a glass paperweight and shining directly into his eyes. He slowly stirred, though it was the soreness in his neck that forced him to acknowledge the new day. It wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep on his desk, and no matter what chair he sat in, he always regretted it upon waking up.
He had been ready to turn in when Eric appeared, but when he heard of what happened at the bar, his evening plans were ruined. He had spent the night micromanaging his empire from behind his desk, too afraid to leave his house. The most pressing matter was the Moose Head, all of the deaths that had occurred there. Multiple calls had been made to the police the previous night, sounds of gunfire. The callers were ignorant of who that bar belonged to and didn’t know how to keep their heads down. Luckily, the police dispatch center was in his pocket. Any call to the cops would go through someone on his payroll, so if something bad happened or if a someone decided to be a witness rather than a bystander, Lee could silence it. As such, all calls about gunshots never made it through, so the police were completely unaware of what happened.
Then there was the issue of the mess. He had to have a black-market cleaning crew come to remove the bodies and all traces of the suicides, every blood splatter and bullet hole. Then, next of kin had to be notified, but very quietly, and not all of them immediately. The Misato syndicate was an organization like any other, it relied on solid morale. Dumping the bodies of enemies into the river and acting like they never existed was one thing, but productivity drops when coworkers have to bury each other in unmarked graves, with families left without answers. Of all the people who worked for him, half had no family to speak of, a quarter did have family that was unaware of their job, and the rest had at most a spouse who knew vaguely what they did for a living. A vengeful widow who believed Lee responsible would become a serious liability, and killing them off could hurt morale.
The families of dead henchmen were most often bribed and looked after like Eric, and on a scale like this, the loss in manpower combined with hush money payments was an incredibly expensive issue.
Next came the problem of his other companies and hideouts. Whoever was looking for him, they were likely operating under minimal information. They came into the Moose Head simply because a bar was where they were most likely to get information. That didn’t mean his other operations were safe. He controlled countless businesses in the state. Each one was a valuable asset in terms of money and potential liability in terms of information. So, of course, the twilight hours had been spent evacuating some areas and reinforcing others, making sure that anyone searching for him would end up in an abandoned building or facing a small army of his subordinates.
There hadn’t been any other alerts or casualties during the night. Whoever this stranger was, they seemed to call it quits after the Moose Head, at least for now. Plus, while he had gotten very little rest last night, the sleep he did enjoy had restored his sense of skepticism. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous the whole situation became. Clearly, whoever this stranger was, he used some kind of drug or hallucinogenic gas. The men in the bar got high and impressionable, and with a little hypnotic suggestion, the stranger got them to kill themselves. Eric’s panic was simply a bad trip.
Ever since the war, there had been people claiming to have special powers, from immunity to the undead to the ability to create or cure them. Only God knew how many people had claimed to be the Second Coming. Clearly, this stranger was just another snake oil salesman.
Regardless, there was someone gunning for him, and had already killed a dozen of his men. Caution was important. Lee reminded himself of that fact several times before getting out of his chair. Right about now, his cooks would have breakfast on the table. He got up and looked around, making sure everything was as it should be. His office was lavish and larger than most apartments. It had a bar, its own bathroom, closet, and a sitting area for meeting with guests. The walls were adorned with bookshelves and expensive art. Nothing seemed out of place. He left his office and made his way to the dining room, passing by countless armed guards and finding his daughters already eating. As usual, a breakfast feast had been laid out on the massive dining table, despite only three seats ever being occupied.
“Good morning,” Hijiri squeaked, while keeping her eyes on her plate.
Cho, on the other hand, just looked pissed. “Dad, what the fuck?! John says I can’t leave the house?! Tell me what’s going on!”
Lee took his seat at the head table. “There was an incident last night at the Moose Head, there were several casualties. As such, until the perpetrator is found, the two of you will be confined to the house. Eric is here, but I want you to stay away from him. He is unwell and needs his rest.”
“But there’s a party tonight at Sandra’s!”
“There will be other parties, but I will do what I must to keep you safe.”
“This is bull—”
“That’s enough!” Lee shouted while banging his fist on the table.
Cho fell silent and turned to her plate. Despite being spoiled rotten, she had never been able to truly bend her father to her will. He usually let her have free reign, but as soon as he established a rule or gave an order, there was nothing she could do to change his mind. Even when she was a child, the “daddy’s little girl” act fell on deaf ears and tantrums always earned her a smack. It was a pain in the ass, but subconsciously, it made her father one of the few people she actually respected and listened to.
The three ate in silence and Lee was the first to finish. He departed, making his way up to the spare bedroom where Eric was staying. There was a guard by the door.
“How is he?” Lee asked.
“Out like a light, sir,” his suited henchman replied. “The doc had to give him several shots throughout the night just to get him quiet.”
Lee nodded and stepped into the bedroom. The sheets had been torn in several places and there were fingernail marks on the walls, but Eric had been hit with enough sedatives to take down an elephant and was finally asleep. Lee approached for a closer look. Eric seemed much paler than the night before, his hair even looking whitish.
Lee left the room with instructions for the guard to keep him updated on whatever happened. As he walked down the halls, he came across John. “Get me a pull protective escort. I have to meet with the widows of last night’s incident.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know this guy is after you.”
“And when he finds me, I’ll make him regret it.”
=============
Black SUVs, that was the vehicle of choice, five of them, each filled with armed men weighing over two hundred pounds, plus two men on motorcycles. Lee was in the center of the convoy, guarded on all sides. These vehicles had all been reinforced with bulletproof glass and other defenses. Nothing short of an RPG striking the windshield could kill him. As they drove through the city, it was impossible for him not to notice how tense his men were. Every time someone died, it was a reminder of their mortality, of the dangers they faced in their line of work. This was something entirely different. Hopefully, if the day went by without issue, their nerves would settle. They just had to take care of business and then they could return to the safety of the mansion.
=============
It was signaled with the darkening of the sky, clouds like bubbling tar pouring across the blue canvas. What was strange was that they seemed to spawn directly over the Misato mansion. All the guards manning the property looked up, baffled by the sudden change in weather. In her bedroom, Hijiri turned away from her book to study the sky, while Cho, on her bed, was too busy patrolling all her social media accounts.
Then came the not-so subtle sound of steel bending and twisting, threatening to give way. Eyes were drawn to the front gate, barely repaired after Eric drove through it, now being crumbled like an empty beer can. A man stood on the other side, garbed in black with his hand outstretched. Men rushed towards him from across the lawn, all in identical black suits and armed with identical submachine guns. With a flick of his wrist, Dominion ripped the gates from their tracks and threw them at the oncoming horde. Several were knocked over, while the rest immediately opened fire.
The bullets, despite poking holes in his clothes, did nothing more to Dominion than tickle him as they bounced off his skin. The men stared in disbelief, unable to believe what they were watching, but they fired, reloaded, and continued firing. As he approached, Dominion raised one of his hands. Five men, firing from behind a water fountain, were lifted into the air by invisible strings. They screamed in terror from the sudden lurch and the disappearance of the ground underneath their feet, but fell silent when he slammed them all together and then dropped them like discarded toys.
He turned to another group, standing beside an unused SUV. He swung his arm, and extending from his sleeve, a black tendril, made of demonic flesh, reached out like a jet of water and smacked them all aside with bone-breaking force. He turned to the rest, all running to the front door in terror. They made the mistake of looking at him, and the moment eye contact was made, they were trapped.
Their minds were tossed into a chaotic darkness, in which pain was their only sensation. Bones breaking, flesh tearing, blood filling their lungs, they were assaulted with a rainbow of tortures. This wasn’t Dominion’s bloodlust, but an illusion. By making eye contact with someone, he could trap them in a horrible nightmare, fueled by demonic power into an experience nothing less than the wrath of Hell. As much as he enjoyed killing and destruction, this had become Dominion’s favorite ability. Besides, he was hoping these men would be more useful to him alive than as souls.
With the guards dropping like flies, trapped in their illusions, he opened the front door and stepped into the grand entryway. Art decorated the walls and statues adorned every corner, as well as the banisters of the staircase, but Dominion’s eyes were focused on the two real treasures at the top of the stairs. Hearing screams and gunfire, Cho had left her room to see what was going on and dragged her sister with her. The moment they saw him, their instincts screamed at them to run.
They bolted, and watching them sprint like rabbits, Dominion smiled and licked his lips. “Go, incapacitate everyone else.”
Obeying his will, an army of shadows began shooting off from his, running across every surface and spreading throughout the house. They were demons and wraiths, in search of men to capture. As this was going on, the girls ran for their father’s office. There was a panic room in the back of the closet, able to withstand a nuclear blast and filled with enough weapons to kill anything else that survived. They burst into the office and came to a stop, looking at their father’s desk. Defying all laws of physics, Dominion was sitting behind it. The sun was shining on the back of the chair, casting him in shadow, but the gleam in his eyes was piercing.
He gave a twirl of his finger and the door shut and locked behind them. Even if the door was still open, there was nothing they could do to escape.
“My, my, the two of you are even prettier than I heard. I’ve never had twins before, or Japanese girls for that matter. I think I might actually keep you two alive for a while.”
Cho stood in front of Hijiri, crying in fear, and scowled at him. Regardless of their situation, her lifestyle had forged an unconventional, yet strong defense against fear; an unparalleled sense of entitlement. At the moment, the line between bitchiness and courage had completely blurred.
“Who the fuck are you?” she spat, as if she was talking to one of her father’s clumsy underlings.
Her arrogance actually made him smile. “My name is Dominion, and from this point forward, the two of you are my property. Now, take off your clothes.”
“Fuck you!”
Dominion slowly stood up, casting a long shadow across the room. The sisters stepped back, avoiding it like a puddle of acid.
“I’ll say it again. Take off your clothes. It’s time for you to pleasure your new master.”
Cho reached back and drew a small Beretta from her pocket. She had grabbed it from her nightstand the moment she heard gunfire. “And I said fuck you!”
She showed no hesitation, she emptied the mag at Dominion, but the diminutive bullets fared no better than those of the guards outside. They merely bounced off him like plastic BBs, doing more damage to the office than to him. Hijiri was utterly petrified, Cho at a total loss. It then happened in the blink of an eye, Dominion zooming across the room and grabbing her by the throat. He lifted her off the ground, just barely letting her breathe. Hijiri fell back, sobbing in terror.
“I don’t think you understand what’s going on. You and your sister are no longer “people”. You are now toys for me to use however I see fit. Now, you can either obediently take off your clothes and I can rape you. Or you can fight me, and I can torture and then rape you.”
“You’d better just fucking kill me now, because anything you try to put in my mouth, I’ll bite off!” she hissed.
“You have spirit, I like that. So, you’d rather die than become my slave? But then your sister would be all alone, wouldn’t she?” The courage left Cho’s eyes. “Tell me something, would you trade your life for her freedom? Would you let me kill you if it meant she could walk out of here untouched? You both live as slaves, or she lives free.”
The fire returned to her eyes. “I would.”
Dominion looked at Hijiri. “What a wonderful sister you have. You should be grateful for her love.” He switched his gaze back to Cho. “Very well, I’ll kill you. But first, I want to make sure you know what that truly means.”
Then it hit her like a tidal wave, pulverizing her mental foundations and extinguishing every light within her. As well as unleashing his bloodlust, Dominion was granting a voice to all the spirits trapped within him, letting their screams of agony pour into Cho like concrete down her throat. She could feel their misery, their hatred, their pain, both demon and human alike. They were all sealed within him, trapped for eternity. To physically imprison someone was one thing, but Cho was tasting what it felt like to have her soul imprisoned, and it was a horror beyond anything she dared dream. There was no peace, no sweet release, it was a one-way ticket to Hell in the realest of terms, an eternity of anguish, in which awareness itself was a curse.
After what felt like an eternity, he dropped her, and she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Her eyes were wide, she was nearly catatonic. Hijiri crawled over to her. “Cho?” she whimpered.
“So, what do you say now?” Dominion asked.
His voice made her jerk like he had just hit her with a stun gun. Her eyes still wide with terror and her body trembling, she slowly got up onto her hands and knees with her back to him. Then, she unfastened her jeans and pulled them down, exposing herself to him like a bitch in heat.
“Please rape me,” she murmured.
“Cho!” Hijiri exclaimed.
Cho immediately burst into tears. “I don’t want to die! I don’t want him to kill me!” For Hijiri, this was the first time seeing her sister cry, the first time since their mom died. Hysterical, Cho then grabbed onto her. “Don’t resist! It’s the only way you’ll live! Nothing is worse than dying!”
At this moment, her world had turned upside-down. The home that she thought would always keep her safe had been overrun by one man. Her father wasn’t there to protect her. The sister that she thought as unbreakable was offering herself up as a piece of meat.
Dominion stood over her. “I’m going to take everything from you. Your hopes, your dreams, your faith, your happiness, your innocence. I’m going to rip them away from you. In return, I’ll give a wonderful gift. Despair, agony, suffering that will fill every part of your existence. You’ll never feel more alive than when you’re begging for death. Is that not mercy?”
He grabbed Hijiri by the throat and dragged her to the desk. She screamed and tried to fight him off, feeling her terror energize her instead of draining her will. Regardless, nothing she did could stop Dominion. Every punch and scratch felt like striking a brick wall. Dominion swept everything off the desk and threw her down. Pinned, with her face pressed to the cold wood, she finally became still, her only movement being the trembling from her tearful cries.
Dominion turned back to Cho. “Take off your clothes and sit right here. I want you to have front row seats to her violation.”
Like Hijiri, Cho was sobbing. She had spent most of her life in control of everyone and everything around her. She was a queen, and the entire state was her kingdom. Her only frustrations came from delayed gratification, but even if she had to wait, she always got what she wanted. Now she was realizing just how powerless she was. All that authority, the fear she evoked in others, it was just borrowed from her father. She was nothing without him. And even now, if he were to burst in and try to save him, she knew that there was nothing he could do. She was going to be raped. Her sister was going to be raped. Nothing on Earth could prevent that, no one had the power to stand up to this monster disguised as a human.
All she had now was fear, fear for her life. What she had seen in him, the fate that awaited her should he take her life, it made her realize just how valuable her life was worth. Nothing, no physical experience, no bodily torture, could rival the enslavement of her soul. She would rather light herself on fire than let him kill her, but she knew he would never let her escape, dead or alive. Now, her entire life had been reduced to a single purpose: survive. No matter what the cost, she had to do everything she could to make herself see valuable. She loved her sister, she never wanted anything to happen to her, but as long as this monster let Cho live, she’d sell her twin down the river.
She crawled to where he was pointing and stripped down. Seeing her naked body, a lustful smirk crossed his face. He let go of Hijiri and instead grabbed Cho. He first smacked her face a couple of times, not hard enough to leave any kind of mark, but just to show her that she couldn’t fight back.
“Damn, you are gorgeous.” He cupped a warm breast, its magnificent size letting it overflow from his hand. She stiffened, not used to being touched by a stranger like this. He groped both her tits, squeezing them painfully hard and pulling on her piercings to make her cry out. “You’ve shaped your body into being the ultimate sexual plaything, but from the information I’ve gathered, you rarely date. Rather, you tease men, and when you do find a suitable candidate, you break his will and use him as a toy. You hang yourself out on a line and pull away before any man can snatch you up, then laugh at their anguish.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging. It’s fun, isn’t it? To be able to give feelings and take them away, to invoke something in their minds against their will, a lustful happiness, then to grant them despair and frustration like you injected it into their brains with a syringe.”
He then thrust his fingers inside her, making her cry out. He swirled around in her like he was performing a cavity search to make sure her body met his expectations. “But you lack the will. It’s just a hobby for you, a habit you developed while growing up in a life of luxury. You don’t know what it means to truly devour the hearts and minds of others, to twist them as if you’re stirring your fingers in their gray matter. It’s not something that you develop, it’s not something that comes with power. It is a hunger that you are born with, compelling you to consume everyone and everything in your path.” He then pulled his fingers free, slick with her nectar, and forced them into her mouth. The taste filled her as his knuckles knocked against her teeth, leaving her struggling to breathe and her gag reflex threatening to go off. “But while that hunger can never be satisfied, the flavors you encounter are sinfully sweet, aren’t they?”
He then forced her to her knees next to her father’s desk, so that she’d get a full view of what would be done to her sister. Dominion turned back to Hijiri, still bent over the desk, too afraid to move. Through her tears, she was murmuring something in Japanese. Cho recognized it as a song their mother sang to them when they were children.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you. I hope you’re not thinking it’ll all be over soon and you can go back to your normal life. No, I have already decided your future for you, and it won’t end in this room. I wonder, will you curse me until your final breath, or will you learn to love the pain? Will you break or will you twist?”
He then held out his hand and claws grew from the tips of his fingers. He ripped away Hijiri’s clothes, revealing her defenseless, shivering body. Her skin was soft and smooth, but whiter than her sister’s, who spent her summers sunbathing and her winters applying spray tan. He could see the goosebumps on her back, feel the blood rushing through her capillaries as fear spiked her heart rate.
Dominion retracted his claws and ran his hand across her rear end. “You’ve got a nice ass, why hide it under all those layers?” Hijiri whimpered as his fingers slipped between her legs, and again when he laughed. “My, my, this is a surprise. I’ve seen plenty of camel toes before, but never labia so naturally enlarged. It’s like feeling a hotdog bun. Is this why you’re such a shy girl? So afraid to date? Don’t worry, I am a man of culture. This is nothing short of a delicacy for me.”
He crouched down and ran his tongue between her legs, making Hijiri shudder in revulsion. He sucked on the plump lips greedily, his face buried in her ass like it was a pillow. Hijiri continued to whimper and cry, ashamed of herself, disgusted with the sensation of her defilement. His slimy tongue, she could feel it dirtying her, taking her purity and leaving her interior coated with his rancid saliva. But regardless of how he was tainting her soul, her body was reacting to this alien sensation.
Unlike her vain and hedonistic sister, Hijiri had always suppressed her sexuality, feeling like her lower lips would revile men. She didn’t even masturbate, as every time she touched her labia, those doubts and fears would resurface and kill her mood. As such, almost any touch to her virgin honeypot was foreign. Her nerve endings didn’t know how to process this stimulation. Her tearful sniffles turned into gasps as Dominion’s tongue sent power surges through her nerves, a wave of energy sweeping up her spine. It was like his touching was making all of her cells bloom like flowers, her body becoming a garden of unwanted euphoria. As much as she despised it, it began to feel good. She tried to focus on that, that one solace. It was her only hope of maintaining her sanity. If at least some part of this was pleasurable, she could use that pleasure as a shield against the pain sure to come.
After a minute, he stood up, satisfied. “Ah, delicious.” He then pinched Hijiri’s labia, drawing a fresh whimper. “Look at these fat, meaty lips. I just want to cut them off and fry them like a pair of veal cutlets. But perhaps I’m being a little selfish. Cho, you deserve a taste.” He grabbed her by the hair, making her scream as he pulled. He dragged her behind the desk and forced her face into Hijiri’s ass. Despite her fear of Dominion, she tried to push away, compelled by instinct and common sense, as well as her inability to breathe, but he held her still, drenching her face with her sister’s nectar. “Go on, lick her. I want you to make her cum.”
Both sisters were sobbing, brought to a new low. For Hijiri, the feeling of her twin sister’s face against her most private area, her lips and tongue stimulating her pussy, it was an unbearable humiliation. By breaking the taboo, it was like something was broken inside her, some bone or tendon that left her crying in agony. It was even worse for Cho, being used as an instrument of torture, a means for this man to harm her sister.
More than that, he was forcing her to fill her mouth with the taste of sin. She had always been shameless. Rules were just an obstacle getting in her way, but this was a revulsion that was written into her genes, a rule that she wished never to break, not out of fear of punishment, but for simple common sense. Here, she was being forced to drink her sister’s nectar, an act of incest, not to mention that she had no interest in women, and was now forced to perform an act she’d never do on the last woman she’d ever choose. Sick as it might be, she wished she had a twin brother instead. At least then, it would be at least slightly less repulsive.
Seeing her half-hearted attempts, Dominion grasped one of her nipple piercings and began to tug on it, making her wince. “I want to hear her moan. If she doesn’t cum in the next two minutes, there will be severe punishment.”
She gave in, putting all her effort into pleasuring Hijiri. She licked her as though her life depended on it, for if Dominion wasn’t satisfied, it might just be. She hugged her sister’s legs, pushing her face harder against her ass while her tongue swirled around inside her. Despite her torment, Hijiri began to moan as the power surges returned. They felt even stronger than before, perhaps her revulsion and the taboo making it more effective. Cho sucked and licked, her dedication becoming audible, but still, she couldn’t push her sister over the line.
Having lost his patience, Dominion kicked her aside. He then grabbed Hijiri by the back of the neck, keeping her face pressed against the desk, and he thrust the middle finger of his other hand into her pussy and his thumb into her anus without any warning or preparation. Hijiri screamed from the penetration, and that scream grew in volume as he violently fingered her, shaking his hand like a paint-mixer. Cho could only watch as he grabbed her sister like a bowling ball and drove her to the breaking point. His efforts were having a definite impact. Hijiri was moaning louder than before, and whether it was subconscious or not, or perhaps a means of lessening her pain, she was standing up on her tiptoes, raising her pussy higher.
She soon released that magic pitch, achieving her first orgasm. Yet Dominion didn’t stop, he continued fingering her, his intensity never dropping. She came again and again, screaming each time like she was being stabbed. Dominion finally pulled his hand away as a stream of clear liquid poured from Hijiri’s slit. Having no understanding of female ejaculation, she shuddered in embarrassment, thinking she had urinated.
“For your sake, I hope you enjoyed that, because it’s just going to get much more painful from here.”
He shed his clothes, revealing his erect member. He began rubbing it against her slit, giving her the strength to shed fresh tears.
“Please, I’ll do anything. Just please don’t rape me,” she begged.
“I see you still don’t understand. Your compliance is a given. It’s already been established that you’ll fulfill any command. After all, the alternative is torture, death, and the imprisonment of your immortal soul. Look at your sister, sitting there silently.” Hijiri glanced at Cho, sitting on the floor by Dominion’s feet like a loyal pet. She too was crying in fear and humiliation, but she wasn’t resisting at all. “Here I am, about to tear through you, to violate you to my heart’s content and turn your body into a cum rag, yet she doesn’t try to protect you. Sisterly love has vanished, familial bonds reduced to dust. It’s because I have shown her the horror that awaits her if she disobeys. You fear for your body, but she has seen the truth. She knows that it is her soul that is in danger. She now knows how valuable her soul is, knows that there are entire universes of pain that surpass physical experience. She still weeps for your suffering, but knows that nothing I do to your body can surpass what I’ll do to her soul if she tries to stop me.
Were I merciful, I would show you that same horror. I’d show you the insignificance of your flesh, the vast expanse of spiritual agony that awaits you. But I’d much rather leave you to wallow in your ignorance, so that each moment, you’ll think things can’t possibly get worse, and each moment, you’ll be proven wrong.”
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“My name is Dominion, and I am your new lord and master.”
Then he slammed himself into her, burying his cock up to the base. She shrieked in agony, trying to wake herself up from what she desperately hoped to be a nightmare. Dominion pulled back, letting her blood drip off his shaft, then slammed back into her at full strength. There was no buildup, no hesitation, he just started brutalizing her at his top speed. Again and again, his cock crashed against the entrance to her womb, the friction and tightness not holding him back at all. In fact, the way he just ignored them made it even more painful for Hijiri. She was screaming nonstop, the pain beyond de***********ion. Tears and snot were pouring off her face as she sobbed harder than ever in her life.
Cho tried to look away, but seeing her avert her eyes, Dominion again grabbed her by the hair. “You’re going to watch this, all of it.”
He then pulled out of Hijiri and forced his cock into Cho’s mouth. Physically, it made her gag, and mentally, it made her cry, both the revulsion towards being forced to taste this stranger’s dick and the fact that it was slick with her sister’s arousal and hymen blood. He viciously skull-fucked her, causing her gag reflex to tense and make her salivate. It became a frothy mess that covered her face and mixed with her tears. Dominion pulled out, and with his cock slick with her spit, he resumed raping Hijiri.
This continued on for several minutes, Dominion brutalizing her and then making Cho suck him off. Hijiri’s pale body rippled and shook with each impact, the sound of flesh on flesh sickening. Cho couldn’t ignore how pathetic it looked. As Dominion fucked her, she really did look like a piece of meat. Her skin was so white. If not for the sounds of Hijiri’s crying, one might think he was fucking a corpse.
In time, Hijiri climaxed, just another way of him using her own body against her. He pulled out of her, and Cho watched Dominion’s semen trickle out of her sister. Hijiri could feel it, his unholy seed poisoning her womb. It felt like it was rotting her flesh, as if he had injected her with the essence of gangrene. She wanted to cut it all away, to carve out her vagina and birth canal like amputating a limb, to keep the “infection” from spreading. The flesh his semen touched, it was no longer hers, and she’d rather burn it away than let it remain in her body. The silence was a relief to Cho, the sound of her sister’s screams burned into her soul. That relief vanished when Dominion turned to her, an insidious gleam in his eye. Now it was her turn.
He grabbed her and bent her over the desk, right next to Hijiri. He went to work with his tongue and his fingers, just getting a feel for her, getting a taste. He slurped up her nectar with relish, with his efforts causing her body to produce more to quench his thirst. His tongue, it felt unnatural, much longer and wider than a normal human’s. He was able to probe deeper and fill more space than any man before. Ever since she first started having sex, letting men go down on her was just a way to dominate them. It was by her mercy that they were granted the honor of her sitting on their face. She’d berate them and break their will, until their licking was like that of shy puppies. Compared to them, Dominion was like a wolf burying his head in the carcass of a slain deer. He was brutal, it felt like he was actually taking something from her by doing it, draining her of something. She felt like if she wasn’t paying attention, he’d start ripping into her with his teeth. Yet despite his voracity, the pleasure he invoked was undeniable, it was powerful, overwhelming.
Just when she was starting to enjoy it, he stood up and rubbed his cock against her entrance. “You might not be a virgin, but I hope you’re nice and tight like your sister.”
He then took her, as brutally as he took Hijiri. The feel of his cock inside her, like a demon inside of a church, it made her sick, and his cruelty in his thrusts made her cry in agony. She had never felt such force before, such depth. It was like he was making soup of her insides. Every time her ass was smashed against his lap, she shuddered and sobbed, but her tears only excited him further. He pulled on her hair, forcing her to raise herself up so her tits could bounce freely. After years of dominating men, she thought herself the queen of sex, but there was a huge difference in always doing cowgirl to control her man, and being savagely taken from behind by a beast.
Next to her, Hijiri lay limp on her father’s desk. It was her turn to listen to her sister’s cries as she was raped. It was her turn to watch her sister get violated. But there was some light left in her, enough strength for her to clutch Cho’s hand, to comfort her as she was violated. The assault continued on for several minutes, not ending until Cho came. Dominion pulled out of her, leaving her pussy bruised and overflowing with semen. This was a first for Cho, who always made her boy toys wear condoms.
Still erect, he moved back over to Hijiri. “Please, no more,” she wept.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for all of this,” Cho tearfully whispered.
She clutched her sister’s hand and closed her eyes as Hijiri once again screamed, with the sound of flesh against flesh filling their father’s office. Like with Cho, Dominion pulled her hair as he raped her, just another way to make her suffer. He continued without pause for a solid ten minutes before ejaculating into her again. Then, without even stopping to catch his breath, he returned to Cho and resumed his assault on her cervix. This went on for over an hour, Dominion taking turns raping them without ever needing to stop. It would go on until he orgasmed, pumping one sister full of cum and then moving on to do the same to the other. Every time he stepped away from Cho, Hijiri would cry and beg him to stop, if only to let her rest for another minute, but mercy would deprive him of her screams, and he couldn’t let that happen.
For Cho, this confirmed that Dominion wasn’t human, or at least, he wasn’t a normal human. Whatever powers he had, they seemed to include the ability to manipulate and enhance his body. Every time he came, it was like a shot glass of semen was being injected into her pussy. Just the runoff going down her legs supported that estimate. That continuous amount, combined with his unbelievable stamina and unflinching erection, were way beyond human capability.
Finally, after pulling out of Hijiri yet again, he left the desk. For Hijiri, this was something to be hopeful for. Maybe he was finally done. Instead, he just circled around to the front, flipped Cho onto her back, and took advantage of her head hanging off the desk to jam his cock into her mouth. She was choking on his member, but he held her head still, shoving the tip against the back of her throat. Her gag reflex triggered, creating a frothy mess that blinded her. He continued skull fucking her until she finally retched, then pulled out and blew a load across her face and in her mouth.
He moved on to Hijiri, who had only the strength to turn away and make one final plea for mercy. She soon gave in, sucking on his cock despite struggling to breathe. Like her sister, every cough left foaming saliva run down her face and mixing with her tears. He didn’t stop until he threw up, at which point, he pulled out and ejaculated on her face. Her glasses were covered in semen and spit, leaving her unable to see.
Dominion stepped back and admired his handiwork. “Yes, I do think I’ll keep you two alive for a while. Slaves of your rarity are worth collecting.”
=============
Lee Misato and his convoy sped back to the mansion as fast as they could. He had finished speaking with all of the widows of the previous night, but now the threat was in his home. He told his guards at the mansion to call him at the slightest hint of trouble, anything out of the ordinary. He even called a few times throughout the day to check up on them. It was the third call that finally alerted him.
“Don’t worry, boss. Everything is fine here.”
All three times, that was the only answer he got, and the voice was the same, no matter who he called. They at last arrived at the mansion, but even if they had traveled at the speed of light, that still would have been too slow for Lee. He burst out of the SUV, completely ignoring all security protocols. The lawn was littered with guards, all of them unconscious and wounded. There was a pile of them at the door, but they just seemed knocked out.
“Search the property! Look for witnesses and whoever did this!” With his custom Glock in hand, he barged through the front doors. “Cho! Hijiri!” No answer came. He rushed upstairs, past countless guards who seemed to be in comas. Even Eric was catatonic. Both of the girls’ rooms were empty, leaving only one other place where they could be. He ran to his office and kicked the door open with his weapon raised.
“Mr. Misato, do come in.”
Following the voice, he entered the office, finding Dominion sitting behind his desk.
“I take it you’re the one who’s been trying to find me?” Lee asked with his gun pointed at the intruder.
“Indeed I am. You may call me Dominion.”
“Where are my daughters?”
“They’re safe. Relax.”
“You kill my men, invade my home, and expect me to relax?! Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you now!”
“Because that gun can’t do anything to me. Besides, it’s never good for a servant to rebel against his master.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your operation, your resources, your men, they now belong to me.”
“Enough of this!”
Lee was about to pull the trigger, but Dominion gave a twitch of his eye, and the lavish oak desk slid across the floor and slammed into him like a charging pull. It knocked him against the far wall, and two arms, made of black scaly flesh, reached out of the plaster and grabbed his wrists. Now with the desk out of the way, the sight that met Lee made him gasp in horror. Sitting on the floor on either side of Dominion were his daughters. They were naked, their bodies caked in tears and dry semen. With lifeless eyes, they were licking his dick like a popsicle. They never even looked at him.
“What have you done to them?!” he screamed.
“It seems they inherited their stupidity from you. At first, they didn’t understand either.” He then looked into Lee’s eyes and unleashed his bloodlust. “You are all instruments of my will.”
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