Nandita To Nandini
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To Hell And Back Again CH 11 free porn video
“Karen?” Logan gathered her gently into his arms. “Karen, can you hear me?”
Her dark eyes fluttered open. “I don’t feel right,” she whispered. “Hurts.”
“You’re going to be fine.”
He pressed a wad of bandage against the bullet wound in her belly. There was, of course, no blood to soak up. Mist continued to seep out around the edges. Did first aid even work on damned souls? He had no clue.
“You can’t die, my girl. You know why?”
“No, why?”
“Because you are already dead, silly.” Logan forced a smile onto his lips and swallowed against a rising tide of dread. “There is nowhere to go now but up. So, you just tell me what you need to start getting better, ok?”
“Cold,” Karen mumbled. Her eyes drifted shut.
“Stay awake, Karen!” Logan barked at her. “Stay with me!”
Her eyes opened, but slower than the last time. As he watched, Logan could see the color and vitality draining out of her complexion, like a modern television show slowly bleeding to black and white. Karen looked up at him, then at Beauty, and smiled that lovely smile he had come to know so well.
“I love… you both.”
“No.” Logan watched, helpless, as the last of the color drained away. Karen’s shape wavered. Mist poured from her mouth and, quite suddenly, she was gone. Logan was holding only empty clothes in his arms. “No!”
You gave her hope and a reprieve from the misery of this place. Take some comfort in that.
Logan turned to stare at the Hell Hound that had, somehow, spoken in his head. Beauty was still facing off with the beast, claws out and snarling in anticipation of a bloody fight.
“What the fuck are you?” Logan demanded.
There is no need to speak out loud. The echo in his skull said as the beast casually sat and began to scratch behind one ear with a hindfoot. In fact, it is best that you say nothing aloud about our ability to communicate at all. Especially in front of the Succubus. For your safety and mine.
Can you understand me? Logan thought at the Hell Hound.
Yes, but your thought projection is weak. It will improve with practice.
Good, Logan replied with his thoughts. Then piss off so I can mourn the loss of my friend.
Of course. The beast rose, ambled past the snarling Succubus, and toward the cavern entrance to the outside world. I will be outside whenever you wish to speak further.*
Beauty watched the beast leave. She looked at her lover with confusion in her golden eyes. “Logan… weird. Fucking weird.”
He offered only a weary nod in response. It could wait. It could all wait. Nothing mattered to him now except the empty clothes laying crumpled on the cavern floor. Beauty knelt beside him and plucked at the shirt. “Karen gone?”
He nodded. “Yes. Karen is… is gone.” He raised the shirt to his face but the shirt was too new to even carry her scent on it. That too was forever gone. A small piece of metal fell out of the shirt to the floor.
“How?” the Succubus asked. “Beauty not… I do not understand.”
Silently, Logan picked up the bullet that had taken Karen from them and showed it to her. This is on me. I failed her. Failed to keep her safe.
The adrenalin began to wear off, leaving him shaky and weak. Every cut and wound began to pulse and scream across his battered body. Blood still spattered on the ground from his many wounds. He did not remember falling.
***
Logan woke to the pulsing agony of countless wounds. His eyes were slow to focus as he opened them to look down at Beauty’s wealth of white hair and feel the soft, warm touch of her tongue licking one of his wounds. He was naked except for yards of bandage wrapped around his many injuries.
His first thought was Beauty must be hungry again but it was clear that this wasn’t about feeding. There was nothing about her behavior that indicated such a need. In truth, Logan had never seen her behave this way before. He looked around to ask Karen for an explanation.
Oh my God… Karen. Memory returned with a pain deeper than flesh. Her loss was a wound that no bandage could mend. One that would never heal. Grief and guilt lay heavy on his chest, weighing against his every breath.
Your demon is giving back some of the Essence she receives from feeding on you, the Hell Hound’s voice echoed in his head. To speed your healing.
Get out of my head, Logan snarled in his mind. Now is not the time.
Actually, Cousin, while your demon lover is distracted is the perfect time for you and me to talk.
Beauty is not the enemy here. If anyone is, it’s you.
I never claimed that she was the enemy, but allow me to offer a word of warning. Long ago, humans could not accept responsibility for the evil they did to each other. It must be, they decided, the fault of outside forces. Thus, demons came to exist to represent the many evils humans were, and continue to be, tempted and driven to commit to each other, to the planet, and even to yourselves.
The Hound paused to let that sink in.
Of the many temptations that plague humans, none is stronger than sex, and all that comes with it including affection, validation of self through another, procreation… and even love. No emotion is more dangerous for your kind. Thus, no demon is more dangerous than the Succubus. Not for the harm she would do to you, but because of the harm you would do to yourself in the name of love.
That’s not… I don’t… Beauty looked up at him with concern. Logan smiled and struggled to control both his breathing and his rising anger.
I am not suggesting she means you harm, the Hell Hound prodded. Only that she is a demon and this is Hell. In other words, proceed with caution, Cousin.
Why do you keep calling me Cousin? Who or what are you?
Grandfather Bear was worried about you but the big lug is anything but subtle. He could never sneak into this realm to find you without alerting every demon across all nine Circles of Hell. Thus, he required the services of someone a little more… sly.
It all clicked into place for Logan. All his grandfather’s tribal stories and legends came rushing back. You are the Coyote spirit, the trickster.
The one and only, Logan could “hear” the mischievous grin in his head. And that little secret needs to stay just between the two of us, Cousin. I am way deep into enemy territory here, so I’m relying on you to keep my true nature a secret. Discovery would be a terrible reckoning for us both.
Alright, I will, Logan promised. For now.
Good enough, the Hell Hound that was not a Hell Hound replied. For now. When you are done frolicking with your demon and have looted the bodies of our enemies, I will do you the courtesy of dragging the fallen out for the wildlife to feed on.
You do that, Logan thought back.
But know one more thing before I leave you. You did well to hide in this cavern for as long as you did. Even I could not find you… at first.
However, when I overheard a rumor about demons vanishing in the waste, I suspected it might be your doing, so I replaced the Hell Hound in a hunting party. We found you, and if we did, eventually others will as well. The enemy knows a threat now lurks in the wastelands. Sooner or later, more will come for you.
Just… go away and leave us alone. Please. Logan refused to think about more blood and violence as he felt Coyote’s presence fade from his mind. He would have to eventually, but it could wait. For the moment, it was only him and Beauty.
Karen’s absence was a painful reminder of what they had lost. She had been a friend and a lover to them both, and now she was gone. Once again, it was just him and Beauty, alone against a hostile world. Whatever happened next, he had only that one truth, that one comfort to cling to. Logan had her and she had him. Come what may, they would face it together.
Logan gathered her up into his arms, burying his face into her hair. She rested her cheek against his shoulder with a weary sigh. They lay together in the deep silence of shared grief for a long time.
In time, she leaned up to brush her lips against his. Slowly, almost timidly, Beauty began to explore his mouth with her lips and tongue. Logan reached up with his unwounded arm to brush her hair back from her face and look into her eyes.
“Are you hungry? I think I can manage…“
Beauty silenced him with a kiss. “Not hungry.” She traced a fingertip over his lips as if trying to memorize the shape of them. The Succubus looked up at him with a wounded expression.
“Almost lost you. Thinking about Karen… hurts. Beauty not understand.”
Logan swallowed at the lump in his throat and blinked back against the sting of tears. It was hard to speak and when he did, his voice was choked. “I hurt too. It’s called grief, sweetheart.”
Beauty nodded. “I make better then.”
If only it were that easy, he thought.
Still, he understood that this was her nature. In her world, sex was the answer to almost everything. To deny her that would only make her feel even worse. And in truth, perhaps she had the right idea.
Logan realized that he desperately wanted her too. Not for any physical need, but simply for the soothing comfort of her touch and the welcome distraction of her immeasurable charms. Pleasure to wash away the pain, if only for a brief time.
She began kissing her way down his neck and trailing her fingers down his torso, careful to avoid his wounds. When he reached out for her, Beauty gently pushed his arm back down to his side.
“Logan rest,” she smiled. “Beauty make better.”
He was not inclined to argue. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak and beat to hell. Quiet enthusiasm was the best he had to offer her.
Beauty seemed to understand this. Like so very many things, the Succubus seemed to instinctively comprehend and respond accordingly. Her touch was gentle and unhurried. Her kisses feather soft as she slowly worked down his body. Even as his shaft began to respond and rise, she paid it no attention, content to languidly explore over his torso, hips, and legs.
Logan could only lay there and marvel at this wondrous creature, this lover and friend that he had, by some miracle, been lucky enough to meet. Without a word, she knew just what to do. She understood him better than any lover he had ever known.
Eventually, she moved back up his body, sliding her breasts up his thighs in a delicious wash of silken, female flesh. Her breath was a warm whisper of anticipation along the length of his swelling desire. The tip of her tongue traced a thin line of sweet fire from the base of his shaft, all the way up to trace around the perineum.
Logan closed his eyes and let the pleasure of her touch roll over him. He gasped as her lips gently closed over the swollen head. Moaned as she began to kiss, and lick, and eventually take him deeper. Only to withdraw and start again.
How long this went on he could not say. Time lost all meaning. Danger and grief, anger and confusion, all washed away beneath slow waves of pleasure. The very moment he would he begin to feel the need for release, Beauty would back off.
How she had changed! The horns growing longer on her head only hinted at the remarkable evolution of her boundless potential. Gone was the mute, sex-hungry, wolf-child that had attacked him so long ago.
His body was her instrument. His desire was her music, and she played it with unmatched skill, endless patience, and unmistakable joy. Beauty’s every soft, blissful moan of pleasure at the taste and texture of his body sent pulses of desire through his heated flesh.
After what felt like an eternity, Beauty released him from her oral expertise. The cavern air on his wet, rigid flesh was almost chilly after the hot sheath of her throat. He opened his eyes and looked to see what else she had in mind.
Beauty stood and straddled his hips. Bending her knees, she lowered her body and reached down to align his shaft with the purple folds of her sex. He watched his length enter her body, felt the hot sheath of her sex close around him.
And there she stopped. Logan watched in amazement as she began to raise and lower her body with only the strength of her thighs. Every inch of her delightful body, and their union of flesh, was on intimate display to his hungry eyes in an astonishing display of athletic prowess.
She looked deep into his eyes, riding him slow and steady. Flexing her strong thighs above him and her tight, wet sex around him without ever touching an inch of his wounded body.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
Beauty only smiled wider and squeezed her lower body until he was writhing in helpless pleasure. When her legs began to shake she leaned forward to place her hands down on either side of his chest and redistribute her weight.
Crouched as she was, Beauty looked like the predator he knew she could be, waiting to strike. Riding him with such impressive strength and balance, she was the very image of savagery and sexuality.
It was too much. Logan began to buck his hips beneath her. She rolled her hips to meet him as she leaned in to assault his mouth with her lips and tongue. Muffled cries of mutual climax echoed on the still cavern air.
***
Logan and Beauty sat around the fire. She watched him holding the bolt action rifle in his hands, examining its mechanism. The bullets lay in a small pile at his feet. He unscrewed a brass cylinder out of the shoulder stock and stared at it. Logan picked up one of the bullets and peered closely at it.
“Just a slug. No casing. No propellant. No gunpowder of any kind.”
He held up the cylinder. “I noticed when the pistol fired that the sound was… well, wrong. Now I know why. The bullets are ejected using compressed air pressure. How strange. Gunpowder would be so much more effective.”
He picked up one of the pistols. It used a similar propellant tank but, due to the smaller design, only held a single shot. The design was very similar to the flintlock pistols used on Earth in earlier centuries, before the invention of smokeless powder and modern firearms.
“Huge improvement over a blade,” Logan shrugged. “But still a long way from a nice, solid Glock semi-automatic.”
He glanced at her and offered a faint smile. “You know, with all the craziness going on, I didn’t even notice before.” He tapped at his skull. “Your horns have grown larger.”
Beauty reached up and explored the curling, black horns protruding from her mane of white hair. Her lips quirked into a semblance of a smile. “Beauty has gotten hornier, yes?”
He chuckled. “I suppose you have at that. Not good news for me. I can barely keep up with you as it is.”
Beauty waved his concerns away. “Logan is all Beauty needs. Beauty is… I am content.”
A silence settled between them.
“Is Logan content?”
He looked over at the pile of loot they had gathered. What had started as a meager collection of sticks and rat hides was now a large assortment of coins, clothes, armor, equipment, and a stockpile of weapons and ammunition. They now had soft bedrolls to sleep on, sturdy outdoor tents for shelter against the Hellwind, and a handful of specialty, survival tools that could make their lives infinitely easier. More than he had dared to hope for only a day ago.
And he didn’t give a good damn about any of it.
“No,” Logan sighed and shook his head. He smiled at her but the anger boiling in his gut made a lie of it. “With you, with us, yes. You are all any man could hope for. I just feel…”
Beauty scooted over to lean against him. “Tell me. What Logan wants, Beauty wants too.”
“I’m tired of hiding,” he snarled. “I won’t find a way to escape from Hell huddled in this cavern and I won’t sit around and just wait for the next attack. It’s time we took the fight to the enemy. What they did to Karen… someone has to pay for that, Beauty.”
That someone would be the Baroness Graveek, Coyote spoke into his head from where he prowled about outside. It was she that sent her servant, a human by the name of De Sade, to Gomorrah and to a demon Master in the business of offering hunters for hire. A damned and twisted soul by the name of Karl Denke was that hired hunter. It is his rifle that you now hold.
Her again, Logan fumed.
You have proven yourself to be a threat that she cannot ignore, Cousin. Hiding is no longer an option. All that remains is the choice to flee or fight.
Logan nodded. Take a wild guess which one I’m going to choose.
“Beauty, have you ever heard of a Baroness Graveek?”
The Succubus perked up at the mention of the name. “Big talk in city. Bought old, strong soul for harem at castle. Warrior. Soul make good ally.”
He thought about Karen. Pain squeezed at his heart. “I don’t know that I want to drag anyone else into my personal crusade.”
“Logan strong.” She poked him in the chest.” “Not strong enough to fight alone. Beauty not strong enough to protect Logan alone. Need allies that can fight.”
“Who is he, this great warrior you heard rumors about?” Logan asked.
The Succubus quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is woman. Great queen in before time. Her name Boudica.”
He shook his head. “Never heard of her.”
“No matter,” Beauty replied. “Old soul. Strong warrior. Good ally. We get, yes?”
“Maybe,” Logan replied. “But there is the small matter of a castle, a small army, and an Elder demon between her and us. I think it’s time we saw this place for ourselves.” He grunted in pain. “After a few days of rest and recuperation.”
***
A week later, Logan had to admit it felt good to be properly dressed and suitably armed again. The hunter’s black cargo pants and jacket were not a perfect fit but it was a damned sight better than running around in shredded jeans and a half-naked torso. It also had the surprise bonus of having an inner lining with protective metal plates sewn into the fabric.
Denke’s boots had, unfortunately, been too small for Logan’s feet. However, the goggles and leather helmet he had looted from one the soldiers proved very useful for navigating outside when the Hellwind began to blow.
Even better were the pair of pistols hanging from his hips and the comforting weight of the rifle slung across his back. The short sword and dagger were just added insurance. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a proper soldier again.
Slowly but surely, he and Beauty were becoming a threat to be reckoned with. It was almost enough to make him forget the price they had paid to gain such an advantage. Almost.
Karen, he thought. I am so sorry.
Wounds still pained his flesh but he was healing much quicker than he could have hoped for, thanks to Beauty and the strange healing properties of her saliva. He still had no idea what that was all about and she had been unable to explain it beyond that doing it “felt right”.
Logically, he knew he needed more time to fully recover from the last battle but the fury seething in his chest would not let him wait or rest any longer. Baroness Graveek had taken something precious from him and payment for that bill was long overdue.
A silhouette prowled nearby through the grit and sand blowing across the landscape. Beauty watched the shape move around them and looked less than happy. Her teeth snapped in frustration.
“It’s ok,” Logan told her yet again. “I have… uh… tamed the beast. He’s on our side now.”
She just looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Given the circumstances, Logan could hardly blame the Succubus for being skeptical. At best, the Hell Hound was two hundred pounds of unpredictable muscle, teeth, and murderous intent. It bothered Logan that he had to keep the secret of Coyote’s true nature from her but it was not his secret to tell.
Beauty led their unconventional group across the blasted landscape. They traveled for two full days, camping where and when they could. On the third day, the Succubus led them to the top of a steep rise in the landscape and pointed.
He gave a long, low whistle of appreciation. “Yep. That’s a castle alright.”
Cliffs of broken rock fell away on three sides. A narrow, dirt road snaked up to the front gate of a twenty-foot tall wall of mortared stone. The wall was divided into three yards like an irregularly shaped pyramid. Each section controlled access via a fortified gatehouse.
The “top” yard of the pyramid was the primary entrance from the road and contained a scattering of small, brick buildings. The right side yard consisted of a manor house in the Gothic style of architecture, with a steep triangular roof and a separate watchtower at the very edge of the cliff.
The left side yard was the largest and contained two enormous, square keeps. The one on the left was four stories tall and had a covered bridge to the other keep and, strangely, a flight of stairs on the flat roof that led to nothing except a very long drop. The larger building on the right seemed to be the primary structure.
It was five stories tall with a peaked roof and a walkway for security patrols. It backed up to a thick tower at the edge of the cliff that rose even higher at nearly a hundred feet with a clear, commanding view of the entire valley sprawled out below.
“If only we had a wheelbarrow and a holocaust cloak,” Logan muttered to himself.
“What?” Beauty replied.
What?
“Never mind.” Logan waved it away. “You wouldn’t get the reference.” He took a deep breath and blew it out with a shake of his head. “Well, that is going to be a tough nut for two people…”
And a Hound.
“… to crack. Historically speaking, there are only three ways to defeat a fortified position. Full assault, surround and starve, or infiltrate from the inside. Unfortunately, all three typically involved having an army at your back.”
“What is army?” she asked.
“Many people, armed and prepared to fight,” he explained.
“Have no army.”
“No,” Logan chuckled. “We certainly do not but then…” Logan stared at the castle. “Neither does Graveek. Supposedly, she only has around twenty, plus her harem, that can fight… hmm.”
He smiled at the Succubus. “There may just be a way. Let’s head back to the shelter.”
You said you replaced the Hell Hound Karl Denke thought he was working with, yes?
Indeed, Coyote responded. Once I learned Denke’s demon Master was in the business of offering hunters for hire, it seemed likely his services would be called upon. It seemed prudent to use that to my advantage, and to yours.
More than you know, Logan thought. Tell me about Karl Denke.
Logan could feel the spirit’s curiosity in his mind. What do you want to know? Coyote asked.
Everything.
Coyote talked, Logan listened, and the three of them journeyed back to their cavern home without incident. No demons had been seen, on land or in the sky, since Seralla. It was impossible to know if it was just coincidence or if word had begun to spread among demonkind that a new predator stalked this part of the Wastelands. Logan worried that it was the latter. After defeating Denke and his hunting party, it was only a matter of time before someone else came looking for them.
Once back at the cavern, Logan surprised both his companions by stuffing every spare weapon they possessed into the backpack Beauty had brought back from Gomorrah. “Beauty, come with me, please. We need to pay a visit to the neighbors. Beast…” He pointed at the Hell Hound. “Stay.” And alert us if anyone sneaks in while we are gone.
Just for show, the Hell Hound snarled at him with great, yellow teeth before settling to the ground. Beauty watched the exchange between man and beast with a wary expression. Logan could feel Coyote’s amusement in his head.
Stop teasing Beauty. She’s uncomfortable enough around you as it is and so am I for keeping the truth from her, Logan scolded.
We all have our burdens to bear, Cousin. Coyote replied with a mental grin.
Logan and Beauty set off deeper into the cave network with a fresh, glowing, crystal in hand. The way was familiar to him now. The Succubus fell into step behind.
“Where going? What is word neighbors?” she asked.
“With everything that has happened, I haven’t even had the chance to tell you about the other damned souls living down here. Karen and I…” Logan stumbled against the sharp stab of loss. “We met them while you were gone. I think it’s time they met you too.”
When they were close, Logan turned to her. “Stay here for a moment. We don’t want to cause a panic.”
Logan stepped out into the dim, beige light and knocked the hilt of his dagger against the rock to announce his presence. All eyes looked up, wide and frightened, as a herd of deer scenting danger might. Logan sheathed the blade and tried to look nonthreatening.
Alan stood and approached. “Logan, what brings you back?”
“I need to talk to you.” He looked around and spoke louder to all the gathered souls sitting around the broken temple. “To all of you. I’m here to make you an offer.”
He waited, ignoring Alan’s anxious expression until everyone had gathered near. “I am here to offer you all a chance to stop cowering here in the dark. The enemy who hunts you, the Elder demon that you have all been hiding from, has been weakened. Her strength has been diminished. We intend to take advantage of that and end this struggle, and her, once and for all, by taking this fight to her doorstep.”
Numerous voices burst out in a babble of nervous chatter. The sounds of fear, anger, and disbelief rose and fell.
“How? It’s impossible!”
“This is madness!”
“Don’t listen to him!”
“Beauty?” Logan called over his shoulder. “Come on out please.”
The gorgeous demon stepped into the light. The chatter stopped abruptly. Shock and terror painted every face. Logan took her hand in his and spoke into the sudden silence.
“I would like you all to meet my dear friend and partner, Beauty. I would not have survived without her. Without her, I would not have been able to take down a grand total of nine of the demons who would hunt and make slaves of us all.”
Logan looked around, meeting the eyes of each person staring back at him. “Each one of you would claim these things to be impossible, but proof of the possible is right here, in front of your own eyes.”
He looked at Alan. “The last time we spoke, you asked me to consider how can Hell exist when clearly it should not? I believe I may have an answer for you. A friend once told me demons were created by humans as a way of justifying the evil we do to each other. That demons exist because we needed them to exist.”
Logan’s hand rose to point at the broken Greek temple. “Religions are about faith in a higher purpose. That building exists because the ancient Greek people believed in Hades and the gods of Mount Olympus. Hell exists because a long time ago someone decided it should become a part of the world-wide Christian belief system. There are exactly nine Circles of Hell because a man named Dante wrote a book called “the Inferno” that reshaped our concept of what Hell looked like. Finally, there is this.”
Logan pulled the pistol from the holster at his side and held it up for inspection. “Neither the Bible nor the Inferno ever mentioned guns or flying ships, yet they exist in Hell. Why? How can that be? The answer is because some creative human souls believed that they could exist.”
He turned to address everyone. “Do you understand? God didn’t create Hell. We did, and this gun is proof that what we created, we can change. I have done many seemingly impossible things since arriving in Hell. Not because I am special, but simply because I believed it could be done. And if I can do that alone, just imagine what ten of us could do? Or a hundred? Or the power of a thousand human souls working toward a single purpose?”
The older woman Logan thought of as “Sad Eyes” stood. “That was a pretty speech, young man, but we can’t fight with words.”
Logan dropped the backpack from his shoulders and turned it upside down. A dozen assorted hand weapons looted from their kills spilled out on to the ground.
The woman smirked. “A good start but not nearly enough to storm castle walls. Yes, I know the place you intend to attack. I was a prisoner there once. You would need your hundred souls or more to storm those walls.”
“For a frontal assault, you would be correct,” Logan replied. “There is another way.”
He turned and looked at Beauty. “But you’re not going to like it.”
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