Ruin Box Set (37 page)

“Shhh….” She placed delicate kisses on his face. “Don’t you know how perfect you are to me? How so very perfect you are?” Ruin gasped in ecstasy, absorbing her words and touch, his hands finding what he had to have, her warm body. “It’s me that’s sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” She kissed along the edge of his mouth now. “I’m such a bitch and hypocrite. Of all the people I should be extra kind to, it’s you. I’m such a bitch,” she gasped, pushing his mouth open with her lips, kissing him more, her words winded now.

Isadore fought to open his pants. “I need to suck you,” she whispered.

Ruin’s breath shot out all at once as he looked around. The side windows were tinted dark and he wondered when that happened even as he helped give her what she seemed to desperately need. Then he remembered, just barely, “I…still need to judge.”

She grabbed hold of his hard cock and sucked it deep into her mouth. The swollen head popped from her lips and she shot up to kiss him with a ravenous hunger. “Judge that,” she gasped, before diving back down on him.

“Angel,” he groaned, rolling his hips and letting his head fall back.

“So good,” she whispered between licks, sucks, and maddening flicks of her tongue, before consuming him until the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. Her desperate moans and grunts on him set his cock and balls on fire.

He was already there. “I’m going to fucking come Angel,” he gasped, filing his fist with her hair and gripping the steering wheel. “Take it, take it all.” He pulled her hair hard as the light rake of her nails over his balls detonated his orgasm with that white hot insanity. He fought to open his legs, hissing and grunting like a scary animal, wanting to ram his cock hard into her body until she was lost with him. He realized as he came down from Mount Ecstasy that he didn’t like going there without her.

But he also didn’t mind forcing her there while he watched, either. It seemed unfair, but to him, it was merely another route to another kind of heaven. And a necessary one.

He realized she’d again taken his essence into her mouth. It astonished him that she would and liked it as much as he did. He loved sucking and licking the pleasure from her body, more than anything.

A casual rap against the back glass interrupted her dramatic satisfied moans as she kissed softly up and down his length.

Winded, Ruin pulled her up to him and looked into her eyes, his gaze roaming her face before kissing her, tasting himself on her lips. “That’s where I belong. All over you,” he whispered, stroking her tongue with his and then firmly sucking the tip. She gave a whimper, his promise of soon returning the pleasure to her clearly conveyed. “Until you’re pulling my hair,” he added, breaking the kiss and lightly pecking the tip of her nose. “And jerking and twirling your hips the way you do?” He put himself back in his pants, grinning at the flush in her cheeks. “I love when you do that.”

Isadore only smiled and got her seatbelt on. “Are we done? With the homework?” she asked.

Ruin sighed and shook his head, starting the truck. “Not yet. But the next one is not far I think.”

Chapter Eleven

Isadore followed Ruin and Scriber through the OCD paradise, feeling like she’d been transported back to an era when America was in the virgin bosom of prosperity. The extremely well kept two and a half story house reminded her of…a stage prop in a movie. It screamed perfection in all its facets.

“So we’re just going to knock on the door? Can you do that?” Isadore whispered.

Ruin looked around. “I’m not sure what’s going on. And this is the only way I know to find out.”

“Wait,” Isadore said, “don’t you know what to do when you get to an assignment?”

“Not always, apparently.”

“And so you’re just going to knock on the door and what?”

He shook his head, knocking again. “Not sure.”

“Ohhhh k then, that’s not the least bit weird. The place creeps me out, I know that much. Everything is too perfect,” she whispered. “Only sick people are this perfect. Trust me I know.”

Sudden loud banging, like somebody tumbling headlong down the stairs, made Isadore jump and grab hold of Ruin’s arm. “The hell?” she whispered as the banging grew louder then ended at the door with metal scratching sounds, like somebody fought to claw their way out.

The three of them took a few steps back and the door jerked open to reveal a disheveled butler looking person, straightening his not so pristine black suit. “May I help you,” he gasped, his eyes wild looking and his perfect silver hair falling in clumps over his brow.

“I’m here to help?” Ruin said.

He looked at the three of them, eying Ruin’s tats along his neck. Isadore noted the tremble in his hand as he swiped his hair along his forehead. “Help?” Dear God, was that vomit on his pant leg?

“With…the problem you’re having?”

Again he eyed them suspiciously. “Did the church… contact you?”

“We were contacted,” Ruin said, nodding.

The man swallowed visibly and swiped his tongue over dry lips, opening the door wider. “Come in then. There isn’t much more they can do.” He lowered his voice and stepped in closer. “I’m just the butler." His chin quivered. "I’m not a priest. I can’t do this another day.” His cheeks shook with the brisk shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he hissed, like guilt had been eating him up.

“Of course you can’t,” Isadore said. “That’s why we’re here. To help,” she said, jumping when the air split with a shrill scream that morphed into animal growling sounds.

The man began to breathe heavily, looking up the stairs. He made the sign of the cross, hand trembling with a violence now. “May God be with you,” he hissed at the stairs before turning eyes on them that had seen unspeakable horror.

“An exorcism,” Scriber said softly then.

“Yes,” Ruin confirmed, walking into the house.

Isadore yanked on Ruin’s arm and hissed, “Exorcism? Are you kidding me? Here? In this house?”

Ruin looked at her, his gaze cool. “Yes, Angel.” He glanced at Scriber. “Can you stay down here with her?”

He shook his head. “Better not.”

Ruin regarded Isadore. “Can you handle this? I have no idea what’s going to happen up there and I need you to know that.”

Isadore jumped at hearing banging and wailing, followed by more growling. “What do you mean you don’t know what’s going to happen?”

“I mean I don’t know how this is going to work, what’s going to be required, etcetera.”

He said it casually and she wished she could borrow some of that confidence. “C-can you command me to be brave, to-to have courage or faith? Because I’m not doing well Ruin, not for this. And on top of that?”

He took her hand, concern etching his brow. “What?”

“I…” she glanced at Scriber then mouthed, “I really need to do the number one.”

Ruin’s brows furrowed.

“Pee,” she mouthed, cringing up at the sudden rapid hammering sounds on the ceiling above them, ready to do it in her pants.

Ruin looked around and pulled her by the hand around the house, opening doors until he found a bathroom. “You want me to come in with you?”

“God yes,” she whispered, pulling him inside the perfectly clean bathroom. He shut the door and she fought to get her pants down, looking around. “Oh my God, Ruin, I’m so scared,” she whispered.

He turned only his head. “Of what?”

“Of that!” she hissed, “Upstairs, what the hell is going on? Are you here to judge that possessed person? Is it a girl or a boy? God I’m freaking the fuck out Ruin, I don’t like this kind of thing, I thought this was…only stuff that happened in movies.”

“But your Bible mentions possession.”

“I know but…I just…”

“Thought it didn’t happen anymore?”

“Maybe! Or not so… violent sounding, are they violent? Can you make sure this person is restrained?”

“Angel, you have nothing to worry about. The demons are subject to me.”

“But I’m scared!” she whispered, finishing her business.

“I think fear is normal.”

“Isn’t that a lack of faith? What if the demon senses that? Like horses do?”

He took her face between his hands. “Then I'll crush it.” He kissed her softly and she held his face, not wanting to let go. “I want you to be brave. Have faith. And take courage.”

Isadore gasped at feeling the power in his words. “Yes,” she nodded. “Brave. Faith. Courage. Thank you, thank you.” She grabbed his face and kissed him hard for many seconds then released him with a gasp. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he whispered appreciatively back. “Ready?”

“I. Am. Ready.” She nodded and pulled the hem of her t-shirt. “Ready.”

“Good. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Yes, lets.”

****

It was Scriber that went up the stairs first, Ruin next, with Isadore in tow, his hand gripped in hers. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but something was wrong. That power he put in his words to her wasn’t all that helpful judging by the way she strangled his fingers. And she was right about demons and fear. Yes, they smelled it. They preyed on it. He just didn’t see the point in confirming it if he were giving her a dose of courage with his power. Now he was ready to reassess what the fuck was going on.

Scriber paused half way up the stairs and turned his head. Lifting his right hand, he wrote in the air. Apókrypsi̱ Daímonas. Use extreme caution. They like to hide.

Ruin narrowed his brows. A cloaking demon…that could never be good. Which was no doubt why Scriber inked the information.

Isadore yanked at his hand and he glanced at her. She pointed to herself, upstairs, then shook her head, emphatically.

“She can stay in the parlor,” a voice said below them.

Isadore jerked around to the odd looking woman at the bottom of the stairs. Isadore got closer to Ruin, apparently finding her just as strange. She was too thin for one and her skin nearly transparent. Ruin finally realized she was anorexic. The odd part was she was too old for that sickness.

“Thank you,” Isadore said. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll be safer…down here,” she said, her voice cold and hard.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Isadore turned away from the woman with her eyes closed, mouthing oh my God oh my God.

They finally made it to the second floor only to discover the exorcism must be taking place on the next.

They navigated a narrow set of wood steps, leading the rest of the way. A single octagon window sat in the left wall and Ruin spotted a kid swinging alone on a swing set below, staring up at the window. Ruin didn’t like what he saw in the kid’s gaze. More cold detachment.

“Oh my God,” Isadore whispered, peering out. “Are we in a bloody horror movie? Look at that kid! Is he possessed too?”

Again Scriber paused, sparing Ruin the need to answer that. He wrote in the air. "The demon is strong."

Define strong, Ruin wanted to say as Scriber opened the door. 

Ruin held tight to Isadore as they entered the room, the blue fire inside him going to a screaming roar. The place reminded him of a cage where a rabid monkey played not so nice with its toys.

A twin bed sat against the far wall of the twelve by twenty foot room, with a large lounge chair next to it. Empty, it seemed. It was hard to see with the only light being right above them, putting the far end of the room in dark shadows.

A few more steps in and Ruin saw the bed wasn’t empty.

Scriber moved carefully forward in his solid black form now. He stopped about five feet from what was really no more than a cot and Ruin saw that the form on the bed was chained. Young. Male. And nude.

Ruin hated to get closer, but the demon was hiding what he needed to discern; if the human was his assignment, or not.

Isadore gave a gasp of shock at seeing the boy’s body. Bruises, lacerations and odd lumps covered his entire flesh, both fresh and old.

Ruin moved closer, wondering if the boy were even alive. There was absolutely nothing coming from him that his powers picked up.

Scriber wrote in the air from the other side of the bed. "He’s hiding."

Ruin put Isadore against the wall behind him, silently indicating she stay put and not move. She nodded, her wide eyes on the chained boy.

Ruin turned back and angled his head at the male who appeared to be asleep. “Demon,” Ruin called in a firm voice. “Show yourself.”

Ruin waited in the dead silence watching the barely discernable face beneath the abused swollen flesh, wondering how that happened.

Ruin slowly scanned his body, noting a pattern in the marks on the boy’s flesh. When he reached his genitals, it stood erect and oozing blood.

Ruin jerked his gaze up as Isadore yelped, finding the boy staring at him, eyes and mouth wide open with no sound, showing blackened tongue and teeth.

Ink flowed out of Scriber’s finger, now pointing at the boy’s groin.

Ruin watched as the fine mist settled and revealed… teeth marks all over him. Holy shit.

The boy erupted in thrashing and screaming as the bedroom door opened and a slim man in a black suit entered quietly.

The man came forward, his pace measured, like he’d walked the path many times. He halted abruptly and stared at them like he’d not seen them upon entering.

“I wasn’t aware visitors had come up. I should have been informed. It’s not safe.” His frail voice barely carried. “You are from the church?”

Ruin fought for an answer that wasn’t a lie. “We were contacted.”

The man regarded Isadore then. “Is she here to assist?”

“Yes,” Ruin said, realizing Scriber was not visible to the man.

The man looked coolly around. “I thought…they said three had arrived?”

“Yes.” Ruin nodded once. “My partner…seems to have disappeared. Did you see him on your way up?”

He seemed suddenly concerned. “I didn’t.” He moved to the side of the bed where Scriber still stood. The man gazed down at the kid. “Your partner should not wander here. It is not safe.”

“So you said,” Ruin eyed the boy who thrashed, causing the bed to jerk and squeak loudly, the chains clinking. His mouth did that wide open thing, eyes bulging. His throat distended like he were screaming, veins swollen and clearly visible, yet no sound. And more importantly, there was nothing to discern yet.

“He’s suffered long enough,” the old man said, his voice more frail than ever.

“Are you his father?” Ruin asked.

The old man’s eyes slowly raised to Ruin. “I am.” He looked down at the boy and stroked the forehead jerking left to right.

Ruin tensed when the man bravely bent over the boy, bringing his mouth next to his ear, whispering. 

Scriber swiped his hand through the air and more of that black ink mist began to settle over the bed, covering both the man and the boy. Ruin wished he knew what Scriber was getting at. Scriber wrote in the air now. "The demon is not in the boy."

Ruin backed up to Isadore and grabbed her hand, blocking her view of the man who slowly straightened to reveal the demon’s grotesque animal face beneath the human’s transparent skin. 

“Excuse me while I call up his dinner,” the old man said, oblivious to what they saw in him.

The man exited the room then.