The ichor flew from the flesh wound of the beast. Stiles’s claws were deep in its guts as he sought to spew the whole of its blood and gore onto the ground. Behind him, Scott was growling in encouragement as he bit into a human head he had dismembered from a body. It was black moon night and it was feasting time. There were howls rending the air as the easy prey were caught and killed off with the snick of a broken neck. The gnarly trees were shivering in the quick movements of the passing demons as some gave chase to enjoy the kill even more.
Up on the dais, where all the parents were sitting on ice chairs and looking on in approval, their own fangs out and mouth open in mimicry of their children hunting down below, platters of raw human bits with garnishing of sea root vines stood on crooked legs for the guests to partake. It was graduation after all and the next call for the damned will start off their higher education. The feast was held in honour of both tradition as well as a chance to let the children be children without any control for the last time, as is due course for those starting their next phase of education.
The beast and other animals such as humans for the hunt are provided for the parents of the children as a tribute for the session. The more powerful the demon, the more varied and strong the beasts they will provide. There had even been instances when elephaunts and dinosaurs had been brought over for the festivities. The current feast bore another legendary monster, a sphinx come to roost and now fuming fire and blood on the children as they howled about in absolute delight and headiness of their hunt. Argent was grinning grimly, his daughter completely drenched in blood as she let out loud roars of triumph.
The feast will run for two days, and will be concluded with the children rending their blood soaked clothes and donning on new ones, metaphorical mantle for the changes they must adhere to now. The bones and the torn clothes will be burned at a bonfire that day and the children will pick up a token from the ash. That will accompany them till their last step into adulthood. The bone of course must be from one of their prey and their correct selection is just another test. The air will become sooty and heavy with the tar of the animals and the wet blood and that shall conclude the feast.
Stiles, his clothes dripping blood onto the floor with faint hisses, went to his father and presented a piece of the beast he had killed. While sharing was not a attribute attached to a demon favourably, the smirking sneer he presented the flesh with made his intensions clear. Certainly John could not be prouder as he took the offering and threw it down on the ground before stomping it right into feeble pieces. Cruelty was always welcome, but sheer disregard for anything living even more so. The piece that Stiles had given to his father was clawed away while the beast had been still alive.
The feast did run for two more days and the bonfire was huge and roaring, expelling putrid smoke and the stench of old rotting meat. The children were standing naked around the bonfire, letting the flames lick at them every now and then, burning their skin in patches that grew back slowly and they just gazed on very very happy with what they had done. Their parents and wards stood by their back, ramrod straight, and waited for the fire to burn down. After the fire burned down, they would cloth their children in garb they had already selected beforehand and take them home.
Everyone was a messy filthy mess and stunk even over the fire and smoke, as everyone had been drenched in blood repeatedly. That is when the demon priestess got down from her seat made of tarred live limbs, truly horrible to look at for there were faces mid screaming in agony, and painted the sigils of the forthwrought mark. It bled into their skin and gave off gassy smoke as it settled into their so called auras, for they were demons after all and they no longer had any souls. It was the mark to let the denizens know that these new sucklings were now old enough to be weaned off.
Glad with how the festivities had proceeded, everyone returned to their homes and settled back in. It would be a few days till the new lessons are to be imparted. All that the children had to do, as per rituals and strict orders by their ruler, was not to make a fuss of their wait. However, no such rules seemed to apply to Stiles. He gleaned off magic from his room walls and substituted his old essence into his bed and left by the tunnel door that ran under everyone’s house. Stiles thought once to pick up Scott, to make some hellish fun on their own, and then decided that it was a solo kind of fun time.
Predictably, Stiles headed towards Derek’s place. Derek was a demon, much acclaimed and famed for his ruthlessness and willingness to wreak havoc anywhere and anytime. With guile looks that fooled even the most resistant of humans, Derek took great pleasure in manipulating his prey so that they ended up giving everything to him on their own violation. Sometimes this translated to puny measure like flesh and blood, but even better, it would sometimes entail flesh and blood of another. He liked bending them to his will, breaking off their spines both metamorphically and literally, sucking the marrow right off their bones.
The true mark of a demon was of course how many souls they could devour and leave behind blind husks that may as well litter the roads, Then there were the pesky little halos, forever screeching in their master’s name, fighting for beings that had no for real love for either or even the circuits to gain the knowledge. Such pathetic excuses of life were better used as fuel for far greater things. And at all these, Derek was a master. Deals were old now; there was no need to fool them into signing. Now, Derek only had to show what he could do for them and they gave in easy as anything.
Stiles was in complete awe of Derek. The way he operated, the way he had accumulated such a high number of souls, feeding on them, but sometimes just letting them go and watch on with maniacal laugher blooming from his mouth as he watched those patchy little souls, already fraying on account of being separated from their actual realm, try to escape. They never did of course, but it was very funny to watch nonetheless. Stiles neared Derek’s home, a hovel more like, and peered in through one of the round holes in the wall, looking to see what Derek was doing, wondering with glee if he was torturing someone.
Stiles was correct. Derek was sitting on a brown wooden chair and on the table was a man, old for humans and his face equal parts fearful and in despair. He was on his knees and hands on the table, his ass facing Derek who was sitting with his head slanted onto one of his hands as he looked on at the tools that he had spread by the man’s feet. There was cold iron, silver screws, shadow ropes and much more, much worse. While Stiles looked on, Derek picked up a piece of wood, cut very badly so that splinters poked out of it aplenty and hit the man once across the hip with it. The man screams at that, angling his body even closer.
“Gerard, or rather, you piece of refuse, where would you like your next lesson?” Derek asked in a honey smooth voice that belied the promised violence in the next few minutes.
Gerard, for that is what Stiles though the man’s name probably was, shook and shivered as tears dripped from his face onto the table. With a croaky voice that sounded half choked, as if Derek had already strangled him once, he said crying, “Muh, muh, my ass and stomach.”
“Ah, good choice. Just what I was planning for anyway,” said Derek with a chuckle, and suddenly shoved the whole length of the wood into Gerard’s ass in a single movement, tearing his ass into bits as the splinters broke off the wood in the sudden thrust and lodged into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, his balls and his perineum, blood gushing out in thick spurts and falling on the table, some on the rusted tools that Derek keeps only the edges sharp of. The wood chunk had ripped a hole into Gerard’s guts and now one third of it poked out in between his handing entrails as he tried to scream.
Before Gerard could pull in enough to let out a loud scream, Derek pulled the wood piece back and then shoved it in again, this time holding the angle a little higher so that when he pushed it in, the skin ripped and tugged around his chest this time, going through his liver that Derek had missed the first time and puncturing the heart. Gerard started seizing on the table, blood flowing freely from his wounds, his hands and knees somehow managing to hold him in place as his body shook and heaved till he was just a lump of broken limbs lying on Derek’s table.
Derek looked on in displeasure. He had hoped to play some more with Gerard right now. Oh well, there were some more people he could exercise his experiments on. He snapped his fingers and the body that was already growing back, the consciousness never going dim through the whole process of death and regeneration, as well as the pooling blood disappeared. He sat back in his previous position with his head on his hands and waited for Stiles, who he knew was watching from the window on his wall. Derek always knew when Stiles came around, but he never gave any indication that he knew. It would not do good to encourage the pup.
“I don’t think he screamed enough,” Stiles supplied from the window, on which he was kind of mimicking Derek’s stance as in he had put his head in his hand as well.
“Is that a performance review or a statement or something you wanted?” Derek asked without any movement.
“All three I suppose. Are you going soft Der?” Stiles asked with a snicker in his voice, and Derek finally moved to turn and look at the youngling that had a thing for needling Derek when he did not really want to.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at home like your friends and wait out the waiting period?” Derek asked with a snarl. Stiles only smiled brightly at that.
“And miss you being all total sadistic over your pets? Nah, it is too precious,” Stiles sing-songed at Derek.
Derek rolled his eyes at the chit of a boy, so eager to both learn and unlearn everything that Derek had ever taught him and lunged at Stiles, pulling him in through the narrow hole of a window in the wall before Stiles could utter another word. Stiles did not protest or make a noise, although once inside, he raked his claws over one side of Derek, showing his intention of fighting every step of the way.
“This,” said Derek, “This thing you do, is a very human thing to do Stiles, taunting is well and good, but this teasing, it’s not of ours, do you understand child?”
“I am not a child,” Stiles retorts back while he is still attempting to get away from Derek who now held him in a grid lock, with his hands holding onto Stiles’, boxing in his body against Derek’s naked body so that his cock, monstrous and already hard sat flush by Stiles’s naked ass, for he still hadn’t put on any clothes after. Stiles shoved his ass back at Derek, unable to budge his hands away. Derek pushed Stiles right above the rusted tools he had spread near Gerard and pushed Stiles roughly onto them so that he immediately got cut in quite a few places.
“Still lot to learn, huh, kitten? Still lot to learn,” Derek purred at Stiles before he shoved his cock into Stiles’s unprepared ass. Stiles let out a loud roar, his claws drawing gashes on Derek’s table that was quite littered by such gashes already, and promised to rip out Derek’s ass next time. Derek just thrust into him more, the dripping blood making squishing sounds in the room as Stiles made attempts to push back into Derek. His legs had given away already and he was just hanging off the table while Derek fucked his hole raw and bloody. Stiles was in complete bliss at the treatment.
Derek’s increased his thrusts and his speed till he gushed into Stiles before slipping out of him so that cum, streaked liberally with red, dripped down Stiles’s thighs. Stiles turned to face Derek and ran his hands over his asshole before bringing it to his lips, sucking the bloody cum off his finger and licking them clean while he watched Derek look at him. Derek was hard again, his hand pulling lightly at it while he waited for Stiles. After Stiles had fingered his torn asshole enough to get out all the cum and blood he could manage, and licked his hands clean, he went to his knees before Derek, shuffling closer on them.
Derek wrapped his hands into Stiles’s locks and skull fucked him till he was puking from the sides of his mouth, the cock never leaving Stiles’s mouth no matter how much he struggled. Derek was instead poking his dirty toe, covered in old rotten blood and the grime of the place, into Stiles’s asshole, already healed enough to have another go. Which Derek would do just after he had chocked Stiles into complete submission with his rock hard cock. Stiles sucked and licked and went to town on Derek’s cock till he came again, spurting half into his mouth and the rest onto his face.
Stiles again cleaned the cum off his face and licked it all up. He got off his knee and put his hands on Derek. He made sudden swipes to his sides and then cleaned up the blood and chunks of flesh on his fingers the same as he had done with the cum. Derek rushed him again and off they went, Derek fucking and using Stiles over and over, again and again, while Stiles just drank everything up and Derek’s side shredded into ribbons that Stiles took great pleasure in sucking and licking clean. Stiles fucked Derek once or twice as well and that is how the day went.
There were other demons roaming about and some saw, but it was of no consequence to anyone. They just kept doing it till Stiles was covered in bruises in spite of his healing factor and Derek was missing huge chunks off his side. Feeling weak and sated at the same time, that is when they revised their lessons and Derek felt something akin to pride or what humans would call as pride fill him as he looked in at Stiles slowly covering up his bruises and took in everything. There are many things to learn if one wanted to be as good a demon as Derek. Stiles is just getting started, and it had been one good bloody, gory, huntfill start for them.