Demonic Pornstar System

Varek's knees buckled. He slumped to the ground, paralyzed. His own weapon slipped from his trembling hand and clattered uselessly beside him.

Then, the demon roared.

The sound… hit. The vibration crashed through the domain, through the walls of reality itself. It was a declaration of supremacy, a sentence passed by the incarnation of wrath. The roar heralded the end of Varek's life.

Abyssal fire burst from the demon's mouth in a torrent, dark and hot enough to warp the air. The black flames coated his body, devouring the arrows before they even touched his skin. The air hissed and boiled around him.

"F-FORM UP! AROUND ME! DON'T LET HIM-" Varek tried to order, but his words broke into a sob.

His men obeyed to the best of their ability. Such was the control he had over them; their thoughts did not matter. Even as they sensed incredible fear, their legs carried them forward, charging the monster. They were driven by the compulsion of their chieftain's authority.

But before they could even reach striking range, the heat consumed them. Their flesh blistered and blackened, their screams echoing briefly before being silenced. Their armor, instead of protecting their body, melted into slag. Their low Vitality stat, the shoddy armor, and their nonexistent fire resistance ensured that even being in his vicinity was a death sentence.

The demon kept walking.

Varek fell backward, crawling on his elbows with his palms scraping against the red ground.

"Stay away! Stay away from me!" His desperate shouts soon transformed.

"P-please! I-I'll give you whatever you want! I'm sorry for offending you! I didn't know!" he cried, flailing, sobbing, scrambling for air.

And then the shadow fell over him.

The Great Demon of Wrath stood above him, towering nearly four meters (13') tall.

His skin was split in places where weapons had bitten deep, making blood ooze down his frame. Axes and spears still jutted from his body, but he bore them like ornaments of war. His entire being radiated malice and authority while his glowing eyes remained locked onto Varek's trembling form throughout his approach.

The man stared upward, shivering uncontrollably. His breath came in shallow gasps. There was nothing human left in those eyes that met his, only bottomless cruelty, the promise of pain beyond imagining.

And when that gaze bore into his soul… Varek's body finally betrayed him.

He pissed himself.

The stench of fear filled the air as the shadow of the Great Demon of Wrath descended, and a hand the size of a shield shot down, gripping Varek's neck. The demon's claws bit into the collarbones and throat.

Then, with effortless strength, the demon hauled the chieftain into the air. Varek's feet left the bloody, scorched ground, kicking uselessly as he was raised until his face was mere inches from the demon's own.

The torrent of abyssal fire that had consumed the soldiers was now gone, banked and controlled, not out of mercy, but out of calculated malice. The Great Demon did not want a quick death for this man; he wanted to savor every moment of what was to come.

Varek's eyes, wide with absolute horror, were forced to track the demon's face up close. It was a vision of pure nightmare. The skin was scarred, pulled taut over a brutal, angular bone structure. Two glowing orbs of pure, liquid hatred burned in the sockets, fixed solely on Varek.

A thick, guttural sound began to build in the demon's chest, a seismic vibration that didn't just travel through the air, but through bone and soul. It was a sound of triumphant supremacy, a declaration of victory.

The roar erupted as more of an overwhelming physical force than a sound.

Varek's body was pressurized by it. A high-pitched whimper was instantly crushed beneath the sonic violence. Blood began to spray from Varek's ears and nose. The pressure felt like an exploding hammer blow directly into his skull.

Before Varek could even process the disorientation, the grip around his neck tightened and, worse, began to heat.

This was not the instantaneous, incinerating heat of the fire from before. This was a slow, searing, controlled heat, focused entirely on the demon's palm. Varek's skin, already pallid with terror, first turned taut and shiny, then blistered violently, popping with sickening wet sounds. The smell of burning keratin and fat clogged his nostrils, replacing the stench of his own fear.

He screamed. It was a thin, high, inhuman shriek of pure, uncompromising agony instead of the defiant cry his subordinates might've expected from their leader.

The skin slipped away like wet cloth under the demon's grip. The muscle underneath, raw and glistening, became visible. The demon had intentionally fried his skin off from his whole body, leaving his entire nervous system brutally exposed.

Varek's body spasmed, looking like a marionette yanked on invisible strings. His screams were choked off as the Great Demon of Wrath lifted its free hand. Its massive, cruel hands transformed at his wish and became tipped with metallic-looking talons.

The demon slowly scraped its fingers across the raw, weeping muscle of Varek's body. The talons tore shallow grooves in the tendon and fascia, drawing thick blood.

"Death… just death… please!" Varek choked. The plea for mercy was replaced by a desperate, guttural demand for the end.

His begging fell on deaf ears. The torture continued for several minutes.

The Great Demon moved its hands with calculated lethargy, dragging its claws, savoring the shuddering agony of the chieftain. Varek bled profusely, his life essence painting the demon's arm. Yet, the same controlled fire that had melted his skin now somehow subtly coated the raw muscle, cauterizing the wounds just enough to prevent him from bleeding out, trapping him in endless, escalating pain.

Finally, the demon stopped, its glowing eyes alight with satisfaction. The performance was nearly done.

With a sudden, sickening jolt, the Great Demon of Wrath raised Varek slightly and brought its grotesque mouth down onto the chieftain's chest. Its teeth, long and irregular, tore away flesh and even rib bone with a harsh, grating crunch. Varek's scream was muffled, a choked gurgle of blood.

A single, coal-black, clawed finger plunged into the cavity, finding the still-beating heart. With a twist and a sickening, wet snap, the heart was severed from Varek's body.

The demon lifted the still-quivering organ above its head, where Varek's bloodied eyes were forced to follow it. The demon brought the heart to its mouth and devoured it in a single, tearing bite.

A dark, malevolent satisfaction crossed the demon's features. It was a deep, primal contentment.

Before Varek's shocked body could even register the absolute finality of his loss, before it could shut down, the Great Demon of Wrath's long, whip-like tail moved in a blur of motion. He did not wish to let his prey die like that.

To that end, a razor-sharp metal near the tip snicked through Varek's raw neck stump.

The chieftain's head, eyes still staring in silent, horrified disbelief, fell away.

The Great Demon of Wrath caught the falling head one-handed, pausing only to lock eyes with it for a final second. Then, a jet of fire - the real, incinerating kind this time - erupted from the demon's palm, engulfing the trophy. The flesh burned away instantly, leaving behind a smoking, fire-etched skull.

With a final, ringing sound of victory, the Great Demon of Wrath skewered the skull onto its enormous left horn. It was an adornment of war.

The execution was over. The Domain of Wrath receded.

But the event was not over just yet. The first roar, that sonic declaration of challenge, had carried across the planes, resulting in the sound of heavy footfalls and screeching wings moving swiftly toward the source of the dominant call.

The demons were coming.