Wanderers of the Wasteland

The knife arced down. A woman draped naked across the slab below screamed, her hot pink eyes wide with terror, her loose mane a similar shade. Beatrix and Trixie immediately seized the blade with their combined auras, its wielder's arm shaken. “Cerise Silhouette,” called Bea to an old friend she'd seen blossom from a baby to an adult over her travels, the dancer's bare breasts of a medium size that complimented a body blessed to be slim, toned, and shapely all-at-once.

Cerise's breasts heaved, pinned to the rock by an unseen force. “Wh-who are-?”

“No time,” shouted Asphy, his executioner's broadsword already drawn when he rushed in. Only now did he understand what that smell was, it was iron, not copper, it was blood! Years of its stink, soaking the ground.

“Agreed,” said Bellatrix, who kicked off her clawed feet and took to the air. “Sisters, back them up!” Xanadu, Nymphette, Sanguine, Kismet, and a number of succubi that she hadn't shared the name of moved into action behind her, into the shrine, where the altar awaited at the stair top.

Bea's eyes met the cultists at the top, saw the stones were decorated in complicated arcane symbols drawn in the same black ooze she'd seen the hellhounds reduced to after defeat. A man and a woman, the latter with the restrained knife in hand. “Shadow Scythe,” she whispered with ambivalence, a once bitter foe turned ally. “And...Mortis Saltaire? No, it's Danse Macabre?”

The male reaper, dressed in black, harbored a certain dorky demeanor, but otherwise appeared plain and nondescript. Not particularly handsome nor offensive to the eye, his hair short and dark. He balked at the pandemonium that erupted, his medium build visibly shaken as he paled further.

Of more interest to her was the self-proclaimed 'Shadow Scythe', once traitor to the reaper order, killer, talented sorceress, stealer of souls to empower herself. Beautiful in an icy cold manner, she carried herself with stiff detachment and cool passion, her lips drawn in a sneer, her eyes a hollow azure shade and her dense mane white, which fell like a waterfall down her thin, tall frame. She clad herself in white, each member of the order a representation of a different form of death.

“Don't just stand there,” commanded Shadow Scythe with a low hiss. “Use the book!”

“Uh...y-yeah,” replied Danse, who drew a tome hidden in the folds of his robes. A copy of the Necronomicon, its cover composed of numerous faces frozen in screams, the flesh dried, stretched, and stitched. Hastily he opened the cover and started to murmur alien words.

Bella fists hurled a chunk of brimstone, wrapped in hellfire. Danse ducked on reaction, barely summoned a creature in time, the animated skeleton reduced to blackened bones that scattered and rained around the cultits. Glowing runes on the tattered pages continued to activate, and more skeletons hurled themselves from the interior, expanded to meet a rush of wild succubi.

Shadow Scythe cursed under her breath. “Must I do everything myself?” The weapon of her namesake materialized in her thin arms, and she floated to meet her foes in a flutter of her white mane and robes. She met Bella head on in mid-air as their minions clashed around them.

Bea's concern was more with Cerise, whose side she rushed to. “Watch my back,” she told her mom, who nodded. Then, the witch asked the dancer. “Are you okay? Can you walk?”

“Y-yeah. Shadow Scythe and Danse Macabre can't hold me down anymore, now that they're distracted.” Shakily, Cerise Silhouette padded to her feet, her skin darker to match her namesake. “Thank you! They wanted to sacrifice me to further empower that weird tome!”

“Mmhmm. We'll talk about it later,” reassured Bea, who took her hand to lead her away.

“Not so fast,” warned Danse, who stepped in their path to block them, as more creatures continued to pour from his book, which Trixie was forced to deal with in a slew of her own spells that lit the air with prismatic beams. “I-I don't want to hurt you! Just surrender, and-”

“What? You sacrifice her?” Bea planted hands on her wide hips.

“She's supposed to die! Reapers have ways to discern that! It's the natural balance,” he pleaded.

“Like this? I don't buy it! Shadow Scythe probably wants to steal Cerise's power,” she snapped.

He furrowed his brow, barely able to hold the tome as its pages, his dark hair, and his black robes fluttered in the wind each time it flashed and more skeletons hopped out in miniature form before they swelled to full size behind him. “Power? What power? Isn't she simply a dancer-?”

Cerise pursed her face in a pout. “I don't know what...ah-!” The witch's words had somehow awakened something within her, like a distant memory, her palms raised on instinct when she summoned chunks of crystalline that blossomed around Danse's feet to restrain him.

“Huh-?” He almost toppled over, his book dropped and left to roll down the altar stairs.

“How did I-?” But she barely had time to question it, as skeletons threatened to overwhelm Trixie and advanced on Beatrix and Cerise, whose pink eyes widened more as she summoned a spear made of crystal into her hands. “W-wow!” The dancer couldn't remember a time when she'd thrown down in her life, but somehow her wiry muscles moved naturally when she rushed into action.

The summon of crystals came naturally to her, yet she found while she could hurl them or summon them from surfaces, she couldn't simply bind anyone in mid-air, much as she tried to mentally pin Shadow Scythe, whose scythe continued to clash with Bellatrix's hellfire-bound chains and the crimson knife she wielded to counter blow-after-blow each time they connected.

The succubi helped Asphy deal with the rest of the fodder, the shrine littered in bones. “Bah,” spat Asphy. As he crushed the head of one with his metal hand, the rest of its bones fell to the ground. “Small fry. A waste of my talents. Anyone can animate the bones of the dead.” Despite his complaints, his muscles trained with each swipe of his broadsword, severed and smashed bones to dust under his furious blows.

He'd been tempted to finally pull out his dragon form and let loose, but these animated, almost mindless skeletons weren't worth the effort, especially since he wouldn't be able to call on his trump card for a while after he used it. Danse Macabre didn't look like too much of a serious threat, but this Shadow Scythe, on the other hand? Yes, she could be a worthy opponent!

Yet she and Bella appeared pretty evenly matched, neither able to definitively win their clash. It was best to wait for now and see how things played out.

“Sex demons,” spat Shadow Scythe. “Probably summoned from the Necronomicon itself!”

“Does it matter where they came from? They're my sisters, they deserve a chance at freedom and happiness! Give me the book,” she demanded, her crimson knife inches from her throat.

“Got it,” said Nymphette with a mischievous snicker, the tome in her small hands. “Hey!” She planted her spaded tail on the floor to dance away from a skeleton that reached for her.

“Leave the bastards to me,” bellowed Sanguine, whose muscled arms caved in the creature's skulls. She wiped away the dust with a boastful smirk. “Who's next? Come on, you sorry bastards!” Greedy eyes searched for the best skulls to adorned her scanty armor, trophies for her win!

“Thank you! But I had a handle on the situation!” Nymphette scurried away to safety.

“Sure you did,” answered the more tall, well-built succubus warrior. She padded into battle on all fours like a feral animal, pounced on another skeleton and ripped its skull clean off.

Xanadu's curled horns shone in the dark when she licked one of her nails, her eyes half-closed. “Mmm...too bad they don't have a shred of flesh on them. That's no fun~.” Nonetheless, she channeled the black arts, her hands erupted into purple-black flames she'd learned from Bella.

The blasts rocketed into the waves. Reduced them to dust. She raised a hand to her mouth and yawned, a wide hip thrust out, borely zapping the summoned undead that proved no match.

“How dull,” she lamented. “These are the villains behind this disaster?”

“Yeah,” said Kismet, who hummed and skipped into the war zone. “I expected lots more~!” Despite her playful demeanor, when her booted heel kicked out and the struck skeleton caved in.

“Don't you dare underestimate me!” Shadow Scythe, despite her announcement, was pushed back by Bella's barrage, the Queen of Hell's combination of strength, speed, stamina, and various skills able to close the gap between the reaper's slightly superior speed and far more potent magic. By the second, she found herself pushed back, driven into a corner by Bella's relentless assault.

“You're finished,” hissed Bella, knife ready to be driven into the reaper's heart.

“Wait,” cried Beatrix. “Don't kill her!”

“Why not?” Nevertheless, while Bella kept her pinned, a knife to her throat, she stayed her hand.

“We...we may need her to find out what happened here! And to learn about that weird book!” Beatrix raced to find excuses, aware the Shadow Scythe she'd known had become a heroine...but that was only after she'd been 'brainwashed' to feel empathy. Could she be redeemed here...?”

“I say kill her,” replied Sanguine, more undead smashed in her muscled arms. “We'll find the truth on our own! Besides, she looks pretty tasty, despite how scrawny she is!” She smacked her lips.

“Save a bite for me~,” said Kismet with a whistle.

By now, they were able to easily round up and pulverize the last of the undead summons after Nymphette snapped the book closed. Trixie kept watch over Danse Macabre and cast him the stink eye, the nerdy reaper still bound by crystals at his ankles, and he dared not cast a retaliatory spell.

“Now for some answers,” demanded Bella.

“About time,” said Asphy, who lowered his sword but kept it at the ready. "This was one of the most abysmal summoning of the dead I have ever seen. Did you even bother to perform the rites before imbuing them with magic?"

Shadow Scythe's empty eyes betrayed no fear, even pinned with a crimson knife at her throat by the succubus, but nonetheless she spat, “None of you understand anything. This world's on the verge of collapse, and we're the only ones that can save it. Danse Macabre and I are the stewards of death.”

Danse Macabre nodded. “I don't want to sacrifice anyone, but reapers can see who's doomed to die, and Cerise is one fated to be lost. Not only that, she harbors a dark power in her! It will be released once she's breathed her last, and will buy us time until we can escape this doomed planet!”

Cerise whispered, “C-can my death really help save people...?” She called upon her crystals, tried to form a costume that fit her form...simply for most of the second, shimmery skin to crumble into shiny dust, aside from a patch over her vulva, and another over her nipples. She blushed hotly, summoned a new outfit, only for it to crumble like before with a bounce of her breasts and buttocks each time she repeated the attempt several times. “What the hell? Why am I stuck in this perverted outfit?” She stomped a foot in frustration, tried-and-tried, with the same bouncy results.

“It appears everyone here is bound by certain unspoken rules,” observed Shadow Scythe coolly. “And yes, your demise would help maintain the natural order, which has been broken down.”

Beatrix cut in, “Why not sacrifice some of the monsters out there?”

Danse shook his head. “We've already tried that. Constructs are almost worthless to our ritual.”

"It's true, any magical construct is still made by magic. Without a soul it would be like trying to keep a fire going with matchsticks." Asphy explained getting looks from a few of them. "What? I know my magic, I'm not a complete meathead here."
“We'd need to cull thousands of them,” further explained Shadow. “And that would take too much time. I can see it in your eyes, Cerise. You've considered it. And if you're ready to lay down your life...” She winced when Bella's blade drew a sliver of blood, but maintained her stare on Cerise.

Beatrix marched protectively in front of the dancer. “No! We'll find some other way!”

Cerise rubbed her shoulders and stared at her feet. “...I...I'll do it, if we can't find another way. Just, make it quick and painless as you can, please.” Tears lit the corners of her pink eyes.

Bellatrix said, “I can't expect us all to trust each other so quickly, but we'll take any help you offer. All I want is to save my succubi sisters.” She rose from the reaper and withdrew her knife.

“We should accept their offer,” called Danse.

“Quiet,” snapped back Shadow Scythe. “But yes...I accept the terms of this alliance.”

Asphy took a step toward her. “Wait a minute. Didn't you two fools make a copy of the Necronomicon? Wouldn't that mean you're at least partly responsible for this whole mess?”

“Another last resort,” explained Danse. “A crude imitation to try and restore order. This place was a wasteland already when we arrived. I assume everyone here has been pulled from other places?”

“So it seems,” noted Bellatrix. “Albeit, some of us have few memories of our past lives.”

“Probably a side-effect of the transference,” surmised Shadow Scythe, her mind already searching for more answers at a mile a minute with each new revelation. She went to recover the snapped shut tome, while Cerise released her partner in crime. “Danse and I have calculated this world's stability, and we may have weeks left, at best. Cerise could've been traded for another month.”

Beatrix shot back, “Well, you'd better drop that idea!”

“Noted,” replied Shadow dismissively, and didn't bother to look in her direction while her icy blue eyes studied the tome. Then, she reopened the book, and started to silently read it, the contents compiled by a combination of knowledge she and Danse shared. “Based on what we've learned, I have a theory. I'll need more evidence, but...all of us could be roles in a story.”

"Oh bloody 'ell not this again. It's a dark magician all over again. I'll leave you to your crazy talk, I'll be over here," said Asphy as he started to walk away.
“That's a scary idea,” mumbled Danse with a shudder.

“But plausible,” admitted Bellatrix. “It would make sense of the nonsensical. My sisters and I were born of the Necronomicon. Rumor has it some monsters are absorbed into the cursed book, but others were written into it, and I shudder to think that...may also apply to us.”

“We don't know for sure. Like I said, speculation.” Shadow Scythe slammed the cover shut.

The party fanned out across the ruins for a well-deserved rest, a few of the succubi, who hadn't had as much battle experience, exhausted and ready to drain Asphy. The swordsman in question sat on the cracked stairs and leaned on his broadsword, his thoughts dark. Ain't no way I'm someone else's dream, came the refrain in his head, as he held onto memories of his homeworld.

He shooed away the she-demons that came too close, who pouted, whined, and hissed. Instead, some of the shameless succubi started to make love out in the open, scant clothes removed and the sounds of moans and flesh echoed in the air. He rolled his eye, his mouth drawn in a line. As his thoughts moved to the best way to destroy the book, saving this world was not part of the plan. Still, if they couldn't he was sure mother would restore this world to what it once was.

Shadow Scythe scoffed, while Danse Macabre, flustered, looked away from the horny she-devils.

Cerise leaned on a column and looked down at the crystal 'costume' that barely hid her areola and vulva, the rest of her, bare ass included, exposed. She murmured to herself, “So, that's all I am? A damsel-in-distress turned sacrifice? No!” She clenched the crystalline spear, her eyes snapped wide open and her mouth twisted in a snarl. “I'm a princess! And someday, I'll become a queen!”

“You will be,” promised Beatrix, who clenched her shoulder. “Look at Bellatrix Primadonna! She used to be no different from other succubi, but she's become a self-proclaimed Queen of Hell!”

“It's like my little hellspawn says,” added Trixie, a hand perched on her bare hip.

Shadow Scythe appeared to float past them in a flutter of white robes. “Nevermind that. More importantly, that sword. You see it too, don't you, Danse? It's an executioner's blade.”

Danse nodded. “It's ancient! And it radiates with the same power as a reaper!”

“Tch. That's because it is,” answered Asphy. “Gifted from the man that sent me on this mission. Some bald and muscular reaper. Gray-robed and mirthful. Called himself Grayscale Carnifex. Also, he's a complete ass.”

Shadow's and Danse's eyes shot open and momentarily met. Rumors about the founder of the reaper order were often passed around their sanctum, but none of the current members had met him. Shadow Scythe had certainly tried, but realized it was doubtful he was in her dimension.

But now she had an opportunity to finally encounter him, face-to-face.

Shadow curled her lip. “He's probably behind all this! Some sort of test, maybe?”

“Paranoid speculation won't-” Danse's hand was brushed off by Shadow, who fumed, overwhelmed by frustration. He stood there awkwardly, let the silence linger between them all. Instead, he turned his attention back to the Necronomicon copy, which continued to radiate with the dark arts.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix Primadonna sat on the sacrificial altar which she used like a makeshift throne, to overlook the shrine and observe her companions, her succubi sisters included. Each one she discovered quickly proved her worth, despite how untested they were. Nymphette and Kismet, like a pair of childish, mischievous sisters, playful and equally cruel. Sanguine, a warrior who once gorged herself on fellow demons, even her own kin, before she awakened to awareness and Bella broke her of that nasty habit. Xanadu, equal parts haughty and seductive, a skilled sorceress. A small number of the army the Queen of Hell built with her own hands to rule a world on the brink.

The clash with Shadow Scythe had taken more out of her then she wanted to admit. A worthy foe.

She didn't have many options to fill her reserves. To recover, she'd need a man's seed, soon. They'd tried a variety of methods before, potions to create a synthetic semen, shapeshifted temporary penises to cum inside them, but its effect had proved minimal and not worth the effort.

So, it had to be Asphy or Danse Macabre. And while the latter didn't appear to be in a physical relationship with Shadow Scythe, she jealousy seemed to covet his attention, so Belkla decided it best not to step between them. “The one-eyed warrior it is,” she decided with a heavy exhale.

He'd turned away the attentions of the other succubi, but surely he wouldn't do the same for the Queen of Hell? Her toned crimson ass slid from the slab, and she approached in a sway of hips.

The buckles that kept her black leather bikini in place were released with a clink of metal. Her top was the first to fall, her heavy breasts intentionally allowed to flop out and swing in a series of bounces, topped by wide, erect nipples that drew his eye when she strolled towards him.

She kept her movements slow, carefully controlled, and drew out his anticipation. Golden eyes pinned his own one-eyed stare, as she also unlocked the buckles to her bottom half, allowed the last of her bikini to slip away, her bare snatch and round, pert ass bared to the air in a shimmy of hips.

“I like a little monster in my man,” she confessed, and settled her weight onto his lap, his hands on already teased at her slits which rubbed into her hellishly hot lower holes. “And surely you won't turn down the chance to fuck the Queen of Hell?” She brushed a nail under his chin. Asphy growled softly at her, but did not push her away like he did with the others.

A rattle sounded when the executioner's sword fell from his hand. The cold pieces of metal contrasted her heated skin, which made her pleasantly shudder at their touch, her spaded tail already at work to help remove his clothes as she momentarily lifted her hips to help slide them off.

“Give me your cum,” she demanded fiercely, a hand wrapped around one of his slick cocks. She hissed, “Two buried in my cunt, one in my ass. That should maximize efficiency!”

She directed his hard dicks to her entrances. Two of them driven into her pussy at the same time, the third into her asshole, and as she dropped her ass back into his lap with a snarl his tips punctured past her cervix and invaded her slippery womb directly, ready to directly deposit his payload.

“Go on! Fuck me back!” She raked her claws across his bare chest, traced the metallic plates. He moved his hips to meet her when she rode him, in a clap of moist, supple flesh. She pressed her lips to his, bit then and dominated his mouth when her tongue invaded it and claimed his own. He squeezed and kneaded one of her pert, toned asscheeks, fondled a heavy, bouncy red titty.

He struggled to keep pace with her, brought to the limits of this form. Of course, he could easily turn this around...but was he ready to finally play that card? “Fuck it,” he muttered into her mouth, and unleashed his own power in a brilliant flash that illuminated the entire, shadowy temple.

Bella's eyes turned to saucers when his cocks swelled further inside her, certain that were the shapeshifter not so pliable and used to such sizable insertions, he could've split her in half! Yet the Queen of Hell felt absolute confidence in her prowess, sturdy and brave by nature!

The dragon-hybrid towered over her, easily able to take control when he rose and wrapped his claws around her hips, whereupon he mercilessly railed her with a thunderous roar. Her ass slapped with each brutal impact, her tits bounced each time she was speared, doused by his steamy drool. One of his eyes was closed, still lost in this form, while the other went white, lost to an instinct to breed.

She'd seen the same many times, in the Necronomicon, when demons once had their way with her. Yet this was more raw, more primal. This moment he was a dragon claiming his mate!

Bella shrieked her bliss when she clenched around his cocks, squirted across the darke's soft underbelly, his muscled form clad in armor-like scales. His maw snapped around a titty, harshly suckled and pulled on it, nibbled with care not to break the she-demon's scarlet skin.

“Curses! That should be me,” whined Xanadu with a pout, her fists balled up.

“That's why she's the queen,” reminded Kismet, who hummed while she played with a small scorpion she'd found after the skirmish, and started to pull the creature apart, piece-by-piece. Then, she dropped the dismembered bits into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed them.

“Glad we're immune to most venom,” noted Nymphette. “At least in smaller doses! I wonder how else we'll continue to evolve? Hmm, think I can become the Queen of Hell someday?”

“Better not get too big for your britches,” reminded Sanguine, who'd collected what skulls were left behind by the skeletons and made a pile from them. “Might alone can only take you so far! Look at this wasteland! You've seen the results! Most demons are mindless monsters that only fuck and kill in a survival of the fittest cycle! The Queen of Hell earned her title, raised us up from the muck!”

“That's true,” confessed Xanadu in her sultry voice. “I, too, believe she deserves our loyalty!”

Nymphette snickered. “Look at 'em now!” She nodded back at the couple, Bellatrix now pinned on all fours by the drake-hybrid while he mounted and fucked her into the marble altar.

Each trust shook Bella and made her tits sway each time Asphy reared up and clapped her cheeks. She drenched his crotch a number of times, milked out multiple climaxes from her, while he roared with a final push, his cocks pulsed, and momentarily bunched up before he started to unload. Violent blasts of cum impacted her insides. Drove another messy release from her, as her womb swelled to fullness within moments, so overfilled her belly slapped onto the cool floor.

Gushes of excess cum erupted around her ruined holes, around his buried dicks. Gripped by her black locks and spaded tail, his claws pulled them while he continually roared and came. Finally, the force of his cumshots made him wetly pop from her wrecked fuckholes, and started to rain all over Bella's body, which shook with bliss as she panted, instantly soaked head-to-toe in virile spunk.

“Don't waste it!” Nymphette rushed in and tore off her clothes, while her fellow succubi did the same, the foursome also marked by his seed, soaked in its power when it painted the skin and nourished them. Felt its stickiness run down their supple, or in Nymph's and Kismet's cases nubile curves. They opened their mouths wide to catch it, slurped it up with lewd, sensual moans.

Kismet tittered and splashed in the thick puddles of cum, tossed some on herself and her sisters. “Ooh, delicious!” Her lips smacked, tongue connected to the roof of her mouth by strings of slimy cum, which she swished and chewed on, savored the hot treat like the most scrumptious meal.

“Sh-share,” muttered Bellatrix, simultaneously worn out and revitalized while the semen settled into her system. Like she expected, the hybrid's virility was beyond anyone else she'd ever mated with, especially after he'd taken this form! Thus, she overlooked that he'd taken control of their tryst. She risen to a seated position, scooped up spunk with both hands she rubbed into her tits.

Xanadu stretched like a cat in the spunky puddle, rolled and lavished herself in a shameless display while she doused herself with seed. “Mmmm~....are you sure you don't have another round in you?” She smiled at the hybrid, and the horn, shapely demon rubbed her own puffy vulva.

“Gotta rest and reload,” mused Sanguine with a harsh chuckle. “Isn't that right, bad boy? I'm sure you'll pound us all like silly once you're up for it?” She thumped his muscled chest.

Clarity started to return for Asphy, as his momentarily spent cocks hadn't retreated into his sheathe just yet. As if debating if he should breed them all right here and now. It was a risky maneuver to expose his soft underbelly, which is why a dragon would usually mate somewhere private, but he'd made a promise to the Queen of Hell and now fulfilled it. Already, he could see her radiate with renewed power, as Bellatrix rose, refreshed, with a wry smile. His meat retracted back into his body, protected by scale armor.

Despite her shapeliness still soaked in spunk, she carried herself with royal pride, a hand on one hip. “Sisters! Drink deep, bathe, and revitalize yourselves! We move out within the hour!”

All the while, the Necronomicon copy stirred and radiated power, as blackish-purple wisps rose from its cover in Danse Macabre's hands. He almost dropped it, suddenly cold to the touch.

He yelped when the tome flew from his hands, levitated in mid-air, and its cover hurled open. Pages fluttered in a wind that howled across the shrine. The black-robed reaper tried to snatch it, but the book zipped away from him. Then, he seized it with his aura, but found it was even beyond his fairly considerable arcane prowess, as the manuscript also tore away from his telekinetic hold.

Shadow Scythe yelled, “What did you do? You've activated it, you buffoon!”

“All I did was touch it,” he defended. “It's drawn power from elsewhere! Maybe the succubi?”

“Don't you dare blame this on us,” warned Bellatrix coldly, but chose to overlook the meek reaper's insult when he appeared suitably chastised. “It is possible,” she admitted. “We are creatures of the dark.” Unconcerned with the cum on her, she flew to help intercept the cursed manuscript.

“Let's surround it my little hellspawn,” yelled Trixie, her horn lit.

“Gotcha mom,” answered Beatrix, who also moved into action, her horn also ablaze.

Still spent, Asphy also soared into action, and decided to keep this form until he reverted, in case it was needed. It would be spent for a time after he transformed back, anyhow, so why waste it? Their shadows were cast around the altar, as Cerise summoned a pillar of crystalline that momentarily immobilized the tome...only to fracture and explode into diamond dust.

The book quivered with power. Glowed and rose skyward.

From its interior tumbled a black mass. Like the skeletons that rose from its insides before, the slime quickly expanded, a clay-like substance that hardened and started to take on physical form. A reptilian creature, with armored scales of its own and multiple heads, took shape.

The beasts roared when it landed on the altar, smashed the sacrificial slab into debris. Dust billowed around the beast, and its multitude of heads zoned in immediately on Shadow Scythe.

“The-the Jabberwocky!” The white-robed reaper brandished the weapon of her namesake. “I killed you once before, so-called mystical beast, and I'll send you back to hell however many times it takes Danse macabre, support me!” He nodded, hands afire, while she raced into action.

“Another creature of fiction,” noted Bella, who also went on the attack.

“Aren't we all?” Uncomfortable snickers escaped Bea's lips at the implications.

“That theory hasn't been proven yet,” reminded Trixie, who readied to blast the Jabberwocky...only to have Asphy intercept the fairy tale creature, and smashed it aside with his scaly, hybrid form. The pair of them struggled in a series of snaps, howls, roars, and fearsome bites.

The pair of them tumbled down the stairs, smashed them to rubble while they wrestled, and the cum-drenched succubi barely hopped out of the way in time before they too were crushed, as the creatures that wrestled collided at the base of the altar and left a crater in their wake.

The entire shrine rocked and threatened to collapse from the pandemonium. Columns fractured, and Cerise quickly summoned her crystals to mend the cracked pillars before they could tumble.

The dancer proudly announced, “I'm not so useless after all!”

“Indeed,” said Bellatrix with a small smile.

“Hymph,” mumbled Shadow, who nonetheless noted she'd taken to her abilities fast. “The last time I killed this bastard, I used the Vorpal Sword! Maybe we can cut off all its heads and drive torches into them before they revitalize! My father once read a similar myth to me!”

“That's fiction,” reminded Danse. “But then, maybe all this nonsense is...? It's worth a try!”

“Surround the Jabberwocky,” ordered Bellatrix to her sisters. “But keep your distance! Jaws like those could snap you in half within a second!” She and her minions pelted it with spells, which included chunks of brimstone that blazed with hellfire and reeked of sulfur.

The true Necronomicon had thousands of demon entries written into it, many of a lesser variety, but this beast was a level beyond those, albeit not a Greater Devil, let-alone a Demon Lord. While they battled to put the Jabberwocky to heel, Asphy saw Grayscale Carnifex from the corner of his eye. His robed benefactor stood at the broken altar, arms in his robes while he chuckled...

Asphy roared as he let out a jet of flame from his maw. The dragon wanted blood. He at last had a real challenge, something to test his own power! The battle will not end until one of them, be it the jabberwocky, or Asphy, died.