Her fist pierced through his stomach, bursting through the back as his red hair fluttered through the air like snowfall. Vincent's blood showered across the dungeon's table, he looked down as her fist penetrated his stomach before pulling out and tossing parts of his flesh onto the ground.
Intense pain filled his body, and it became hard to breathe, despite this, she didn't let up, and her right leg shot towards him like a whip, the power causing a howling wind.
"Ahahaha! You're pretty good at taking a beating, Brother."
"Guha....!"
'Master... She has charmed you and the strange teleportation seems to have affected your cognitive abilities! Please snap out of it, she has the same Charisma as you! Master!'
Vincent could hear her words, but the effect of Astaroth a woman, Daemon with the same level of Charisma and special talent caused his brain to become damaged, no matter how hard he fought against it, her sexy lips... Beautiful body dominated his mind.
She smirked as she stared at his black blood leaking out of the wound.
"...what did you do to me?"
"Oh, this isn't anything serious. I just hit you really hard. I wanted to see how you react. I think you'll be fine."
Astaroth wiped off some of his blood that dripped onto her arm and licked it clean. It tasted surprisingly sweet. She found herself licking up more of it as she examined the wound.
"Let's fight brother, I want to hurt you and show you how much I love you!" Astaroth said with a sweet voice.
"What!?" Vincent exclaimed with shock. "Are you crazy!? Let go of me right now!"
She looked at him, her eyes burning with passion and desire. Her tongue darted out to lick at the wound. "Do you like it when I lick it? Do you want me to bite it? Or maybe I should suck on it..."
She pressed the palm of her hand against the cut to stop the bleeding. She looked into his eyes. "Do you like it when I do this?"
The pain increased dramatically as she started sucking on his wound, drinking his blood. This went on for several minutes before she stopped suddenly. She looked up at him with a devilish grin. "I'll heal it for you, Brother."
"Stop, leave me alone, you're sick! Why do you want to hurt me?"
"Because I love you, Brother. I want to see you suffer."
"You're sick! Leave me alone! I won't let you do this anymore!"
Astaroth's eyes lit up with rage and lust. "Oh, Brother, you don't understand. I am not hurting you. I am helping you."
She reached down to his crotch and gently caressed his member, squeezing and tugging on it. "I want you to scream for me. I want you to beg me for mercy. I want you to be mine!"
"No! Stop! Get away from me!" He struggled against her, trying to push her off.
She let go of him and attacked his midsection with her fist, pushing him back as he shot through the air, his stomach now bleeding heavily again.
Astaroth, stood at the centre of the room, her large horns crackled slightly as her eerie black tail slammed against the ground, and her white scales opened up to reveal golden eyes just like her own; her sudden change shocked Vincent.
"Ngh! N-No!" Vincent coughed as the whip struck him in the face, snapping his head backwards and knocking him off balance. "I'm not done yet...!" He growled, forcing himself back into position, but Astaroth was already moving on to her next attack.
Her left arm suddenly transformed into a giant scythe, like an ancient weapon from long ago; it sliced through one of the pillars supporting the dungeon room, sending rubble flying everywhere. The floor shook violently, causing Vincent's body to be thrown upwards once more; he could feel something inside his ribcage crack.
"G-Guh..." Vincent groaned in agony, his legs shaking with every step he took, his muscles burning in protest. "This is bad... I can't keep going like this for much longer."
His daemon horns seemed to crack under the sheer force of each of her blows, while his crimson hair fluttered with flames that burst from his wounds, trying to heal him desperately, but the damage was too much.
He needed to fight with his spear, the red blade glistening in the faint torchlight.
But he couldn't move his arms around freely, only his waist; he could barely lift his chest against the onslaught.
Astaroth halted her attacks, her scythe falling from her hands before she vanished from sight. Vincent could hear heavy breathing now, mixed with grunts and gasps of pain; her voice sounded close to him, echoing across the dungeon like a bell.
"...You're still alive?" Astaroth said coldly. "That's surprising." She sounded genuinely impressed, almost angry, but it was masked in a sickly sweet tone. "I thought you would have been dead by now. You seem far more resilient than I had expected."
"Older brother!"
Astaroth's voice sounded strange and affectionate; her face tinged with a deep red as her muscular arms bulged. No longer relying on cheap weapons, she would pound him into the ground and teach him how great she was.
This girl loved him too much but couldn't express herself. Thus her mother said a woman should always show her love fiercely and powerfully!
"Don't you dare call me that!" Vincent shouted. His face twisted in anger, his eyes flashing with fire, and his muscles tensed as he tightened his grip on the spear.
Astaroth smiled darkly, her face covered in sweat and dirt, her eyes shining with satisfaction and a hint of sexual pleasure deeply hidden. She wanted to win Vincent over but wasn't good at expressing love. Instead, she felt like she had to beat him into submission.
"I'll tell you my name if you defeat me...!" Astaroth snarled, her huge breasts bouncing as she spoke, her fist shooting towards him like a fierce hammer. "And then we'll see who's the strongest between us!"
Her punch smashed into his shoulder, the impact driving the air from his lungs. But Vincent's eyes were fixed on her arm, watching it slowly retract, revealing her entire hand, a claw extending from her palm, its sharp edge digging into his skin, breaking the bone and piercing his flesh.
"Ngh!" Vincent screamed in pain, his right arm ripped from his body by the claw, which pierced his torso and dragged him closer. The daemon girl stared at his bloody face; her pupils dilated as she leaned forward, her lips mere inches from his bloodied mouth.
"Do you want to know my name?"
Vincent couldn't answer, his body paralyzed with fear, his heart pounding so fast his mind was beginning to go blank. However, Astaroth didn't care; her lips brushed against him, their mouths pressing together, tongues intertwining. Vincent tasted bitter metal, blood and saliva mingling, the demon girl's strong tongue invading his mouth.
But she didn't stop there; her claws tore through his chest, drawing them from his body, before ripping through his abdomen and opening up his rib cage, allowing her to see his beating heart; she wished to kill him, devour him and make him part of her... Yet something stopped her.
"Weakling...." she pulled away, glaring at Vincent with a hatred, unlike anything she had ever felt. Her face was flushed with lust, her demonic eyes filled with pure loathing.
Her lips curled into a sneer, her fangs dripping with blood, and her horns twisting around her skull. Yet the hatred like a coin flipped and became a deep twisted love that drove her crazy; her mother's words that she needed to become the grinding stone for Vincent, to fight him and beat him until he could defeat her, give her love!
"Remember, you can beat him, dismember him, violate him Astaroth, but you may NEVER kill him!" Her mother's voice repeated in her mind as she watched her weak brother.
"If you don't defeat me, then you will die! If you lose to me, then your soul belongs to me!" Astaroth yelled, her voice echoing throughout the dungeon. "And then I will feast upon you!"
The daemon girl charged towards him, her glowing red eyes focused entirely on him, her long black tail whipping like a whip, slicing through the air, her fists swinging with deadly precision.
***
Vincent stood his ground, taking a deep breath as he locked eyes with Astaroth, whose face was filled with rage. She was terrifying, a monster straight out of legend; his blood ran cold as she roared.
"Die!" she spat, her fists raised, ready to strike. "You can't beat me!"
He didn't reply, keeping his spear tightly in his hands, waiting for her attack.
"It's hopeless," she whispered, a dangerous smile appearing on her lips, "you know you can't beat me."
She swung her fists, intending to crush his head, but he ducked to the side, rolling away from her, and thrust his spear at her. However, his deep wounds and bloody chest started to flood the room; his regeneration couldn't keep up with the damage she had caused him.
"You think you have some sort of chance?" Astaroth laughed, her eyes bright with excitement. "You've lost."
She launched another attack, her fist slamming into his chest, cracking open ribs and puncturing his lungs; she wanted to kill him but couldn't. Another blow, a kick to the gut, smashing it so hard it pushed him backwards and sent him crashing onto the ground.
"How pathetic..." Astaroth sighed as she walked around, her boot kicking at the wounded man, "I suppose I'll have to torture you instead." She said matter-of-factly, her fingers coiling into claws.
Vincent's vision blurred, everything turning dark as he struggled to stay awake, his body becoming numb, his limbs unable to move as he lay there, his vision fading.
"Why are you even fighting me? You know you can't beat me. Why do you even bother?" Astaroth asked, her voice sounding distant, as though she was talking to herself, "You know you can never win. Your life is over, and mine has begun. It's so simple; why don't you understand?"
She bent down, her face inches from his, and the last thing he saw was her smile.
Beautiful and eerie. That was the only way Vincent could describe it. In her eyes, he saw a darkness that looked like a storm brewing in the ocean, but when lightning struck, it revealed an unseen beauty. He sensed something familiar about it, though he couldn't place what. Then he realized—her eyes were the same colour as his own.
"What's wrong?" Astaroth whispered. "Can't you see? I'm perfect."
Her voice echoed across the room, distant as his mind faded before her lips once pressed against his before Vincent lost consciousness.
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