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A tattered pink fabric is tied around her waist, tight messy-white pants trail from the fabric to a armored and spiked-kneepads that are attached to her steel lined boots. She swings one leg playfully as she glares at you from her position. You notice that she seems to be hiding the left side of her body."Well? You gonna answer?" She bursts, and stands from her position, crushing the glass from your broken window with her feet.You see now that her left eye is a blood red, contrary to the sky blue of the right. The arm from her right arm is a purple color, scratch like markings, the same red as her eye glow and trail from her wrists all the way to her elbow where her arm becomes normal again.You shake your head and ask who the woman is.She clicks her tongue. "Petra." She reaches out her left hand and smirks. "What no handshake?" She chortles in response to your wariness."John." You reach grab her hand, feeling an energy you know all too well. "Now what is it you wanted again."She. It was his physical manifestation Audrey and Susan had encountered that fateful night. The Sisters called themselves the Brides of Zebul. Brides they might call themselves but, Audrey and Susan quickly realised with horror, Sex Slaves would be a more apt description. The sole function of the nuns was to sexually service Zebul and his rutting minions and avatars. Their lives were totally and utterly devoted to this single task. And devoted they were. No pop idol or film star had a group of fans who lusted after him as the Sisters did of Zebul. He filled their waking hours and, for all Audrey and Susan knew, their sleeping ones, too.That day was the lowest point in their lives. They retired to their cell in despair. Audrey's guilt threatened to overwhelm her. The idea that, for the rest of their lives, they were to be slaves, slaves whose sole function was to act as receptacles for the debauched lusts of a corrupt and immoral demon, filled her with mind-numbing dread. She heartily.
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