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A Plea for Help

Dust covered most every surface of the darkened library in a thin coat of grey grime. Old books bound in leather of every shade filled the shelves of the library to bursting. The room itself quietly thrummed as the sound of string instruments filtered up through several rooms and a floor. Motes of the dust danced lazily in the thin rays of sunlight that barely managed to slip in through the small cracks between wooden boards that covered the massive and beautiful stained glass window that had once provided the room with its main source of light; those beams barely landing on the massive, dark oak doors that served as the entrance to the room.

Slowly the doors began to creak open for the first time in many years, their hinges protesting loudly from rust and age, flickering torchlight entering the room through the small gap that had appeared. Dust fluttered around his elegant, if a bit worn, clothing. The black tuxedo looked too big on his thin, lanky frame, as though it had been made for someone else. His hair was dark brown and messy, sticking up in strange places all across his head and framing his somewhat gaunt face in all the wrong ways. Oversized, black glasses hung from his nose and threatened to fall off at any moment as he turned as struggled to push the door closed behind him.

"Come on, Thomas." He grunted out between pushes. "You've got this."

Finally, with a thud that echoed throughout the large room, he managed to push the doors shut once more.

Thomas stood for a second, staring at the flawless, smooth surface before him and worried about how he was going to exit the room now. He shrugged slightly and figured he'd either worry about it later or be rescued once someone noticed he was missing from the party downstairs- whichever one came first. He turned and faced the library, breathing in the scent of the stale, heavy air; the scent of the rich, aged wood; the scent of the old, musty leather; and most pleasurable of all, the scent of the untouched, preserved paper held within. This was where he belonged. Up here among silence and knowledge, not down below at the party where only dancing and frivolous small talk could be found. It had been nice to return home after four years at university, studying both the natural sciences and the supernatural, but Gods if his father still didn't had no idea of who his son was.

He held out his hand and murmured a small incantation, a small sphere of steady, white light appearing in his hand as he completed it. He tossed the sphere behind his shoulder, where it hovered close behind, illuminating the dark room with its gentle glow.

Thomas walked over towards the closest shelf of books and began to glance at the titles on the spines. He quickly was able to tell that this shelf was mostly old records of the duchy his father held. Nothing that interested him, that's for sure. He walked to the next shelf. Most of these were genealogies. Equally disappointing. Thomas crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. This room had been sealed off for as long as he could remember, the door barred by a magical spell that he had only just learned how to counter-act. There had to be something in here that deserved such drastic action. Disappointingly, the rest of the shelves on the first floor continued to hold nothing besides boring historical documents.

Thomas walked over to the small spiral staircase that lead up to the shelves on the second floor. He placed his first foot on the step and jumped back in surprise a rune glowed bright underneath where his foot had been and a wall of light shot up, sending a wave of heat racing towards Thomas. Another ward. He dodged out of the way and grinned as he heard the air sizzle behind him. Whatever it was he was searching for had to be on the floor above. He circled his left hand around his right, chanting as runes that seemed to suck the light from the air around him appeared in the air around the hand. When the spell was complete he thrust his clenched fist into the light.

The wall froze, seeming to solidify outward from where his arm had entered. Black cracks began to extend outward from his fist, cutting into the glow as though it was nothing. Finally, with a loud crack, the wall shattered as Thomas's counter-spell broke through it.

Thomas panted as he began to climb the steps. The ward had been stronger than he had expected and it had taken more energy than he had planned to expend. Hopefully that was the last word, otherwise his venture might end in a failure. If his father or any of the household staff found him here, he was sure he would never get another chance to enter this room.

He gasped as he rounded the last curve of the staircase and saw the upper floor. A small reading area stood directly in front of the stairs, tables and chairs placed to provide a nice haven for those seeking one; but what really drew attention was the bookshelves. They were crafted out of ancient black wood and had been carved directly from the tree itself- branches still protruding from several places. White runes had been etched into the wood- runes of sealing and protection if Thomas was correct. The books sat on shelves, enclosed by rune-covered glass, their bindings' leathers in colors that could not have come from natural creatures. In fact, the particular nature of the strange hues suggested that the books were bound in the flesh of demons themselves. This had to be why the room was sealed. Only the most ancient and magical of tomes needed demon flesh- certain words of power channeled arcane energy through their sheer existence which would tear apart normal materials.

As Thomas walked towards the shelves, a quiet whispering sound began to become audible, like paper sliding against paper. He walked up to the glass covering and stood listening for a moment, trying to make out what the noise could be. Intensely curious, he reached out and touched the glass. The library went perfectly silent. Not even the party below could be heard. As his skin brushed up against the smooth material, the runes etched onto it began to glow beneath his touch. He stood still for a moment, worried he had activated yet another ward. Then, the runes faded, as did the glass they were a part of, leaving the books exposed.

They sat in the open air, their spines exposed for him to peruse at his leisure. All of their titles were in ancient languages that were no longer spoken- High Angelic, Aetheric, Low Cartelsi, Demonic; languages that Thomas would be unable to read had they not been drilled into his head during the last few years. He reached up with his trembling hand and brushed his fingers across the spines of the tomes; they felt warm beneath his touch and almost seemed to quiver in anticipation, though he brushed that off as simply vibrations from the music- not realizing that the room was still deathly quiet.

Finally he decided to start with a book that translated out of Aetheric to simply "A Brief Primer on Daemonic Spells and Hexxes." As he removed it from the shelf, a soft sigh echoed through the room and it felt like something brushed against the back of his neck. He shivered and quickly turned, searching for what had caused the sensation. The small space between the shelves was entirely empty save for him. It must have been a breeze making its way into the room. Probably from lack of repairs. Yes, that was most definitely it.

He took the book over to one of the tables, pulled out the chair, and sat down to read. The first few chapters were riveting, describing feats of magic he'd never dreamed of being possible- incantations and spells that could alter the very fabric of reality itself. The magic he'd learned from his instructors was positively primitive in comparison and even the most recent technological innovations could never hope to match the level of... genius Thomas was reading about. Without realizing it, he found himself beginning to get a better grasp on the language, reading faster and faster before he suddenly closed the book. He sat there for a moment, shocked at all he had just read. Shocked at just how perfectly he was able to recall it all. He stood and looked at his chair and then waved his hand, reciting a spell from the book. Glowing red sigils flew from his fingertips, wrapping themselves around the simple wood of the chair. More and more symbols erupted from his hands, swarming around the chair until it was no longer visible, hidden within a swirling storm of scarlet. He finished his chant and the cloud of runes imploded in on itself, the very fabric of the world rewriting itself. Where a simple wooden chair had once sat now stood an ornate golden throne, cushioned in thick red velvet. Thomas smirked. It would be far more comfortable to read more now.

He walked back over to the shelves and began to pull books off randomly, adding them to a pile on the table. Once the shelf was almost bare, he returned to his chair and began to read through them. So absorbed in his endeavor, he failed to notice as another faint breeze blew through the room carrying on it the faint sound of cackling laughter.

Finally after what felt like no time at all, Thomas closed the cover on the last book he had brought over. His mind felt like it was full- close to bursting with all the new knowledge he had found, but still he craved more, desired it with every single piece of his being. He rushed back over to the shelves and contemplated which of the many tomes he should read next. One in particular caught his eye. It was plain, bound in dark blue leather with no title on the spine, but something about it demanded his attention. He walked over and pulled it off the shelf. As the skin of his palm made contact with it, an electric shock shot up through his palm and pulsed through his body. He dropped the book, it falling to the floor with a dull thud. Thomas looked down at his palm. It looked normal. Maybe he'd just imagined it. Still, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something he had just read. Something he should be able to remember but just couldn't. He shook his head and the feeling disappeared. The empty room had to just be getting to him. He reached down, picked the book up, and carried it back over to the table.

He sat it down on the smooth wood in front of him and tried to open it, but no matter how hard he tugged at the cover, it refused to budge. He frowned. Something about the book was fascinating, but if it refused to open, he'd just have to return it to the shelf and pick out something different.

As if responding to his thoughts, black lines began to swirl across the front of the book, forming spirals and elegant designs before slowly settling into the shape of a demonic rune. Thomas recognized it instantly. It was the most common and most powerful word in the demonic language, the concept their entire culture had been based around. Blood.

Thomas pulled a small knife out of his pants pocket. Many spells required a component of blood to act as a binding reagent, so any trained mage always kept a ritual knife on their person. He held his left hand above black rune on the blue leather cover and sliced through the flesh, letting the warm blood drip down onto the book.

The flesh covering the book rippled as the blood made contact with it, pulling the liquid into itself. Dark, black veins began to snake outward through the leather. Thomas jumped to his feet, suddenly afraid that his curiosity had gotten the better of him. As he tried to push the chair back so he could run and find help, he felt strong hands grip his arms and pull him back down into the chair. He struggled against them as the blue leather of the book turned fully black in front of him. The chair was pushed closer to the table, trapping him. Everything went still for a moment.

The book exploded open.

Pages rapidly turned as though an unseen hand was searching rapidly for a particular page. Finally, about halfway through the book, it stopped, settling on a page that contained what Thomas quickly identified as a summoning circle. He watched as the circle began to glow red. In the center of diagram, a dark liquid began to bubble forth, spilling out across the pages. It expanded further and further outward, pouring off of the book onto the table, coalescing into a puddle, forming a perfect circle around the tome. Slowly, the book began to sink down into the liquid, disappearing beneath its still surface. The liquid sat, perfect and undisturbed for a moment before it began to slide off the other side of the table. Thomas heard the wet, thick thud as it made impact with the wooden floor. He struggled against the invisible bonds that held him once more, desperately trying to escape.

He watched as the liquid began to form a pillar on the other side of the table, raising up to a height several feet above him. It flowed outwards, forming itself into a vaguely humanoid form. Long, this limbs snaked out from the torso, ending in thin dexterous fingers tipped with sharp claws. The top of the pillar rounded itself into a head, small indents appearing where the eyes and mouth should go as thick horns spiraled out of its temples. Bat-like wings erupted from its back.

Thomas stared at the monster before him in complete horror, unable to move. He flinched as it reached down and... pulled out a chair. It sat calmly across from him and folded its hands of slime in front of it.

"So," its voice seemed to echo from inside Thomas's head- its voice deep and genial, "I'm sure you have many questions right now..."

Thomas opened his mouth, but the creature across the table simply raised a finger and he felt his mouth force itself close.

"But, sadly they're going to have to wait because now you're going to listen. Nod your head if you understand."

Thomas quickly shook his head.

"I said nod." A horrible coldness entered its voice as it dropped all the charm from its previous statements.

Once again he felt himself moving against his will as his head moved up and down.

"Good, good. So, as you probably already know, I'm a demon. Yes, yes, save your gasps of shock." The creature got to its feet and began to pace. "Now, you might be wondering, 'but how is a demon here? I thought they had all been exterminated?' And yes, you are quite correct. This is not my... preferred form, rather this is a crude amalgam created from the residual power of myself and my brethren. Power you released. Yes you, don't look so shocked." The creature reached down and rubbed its hand tenderly across the cover of one of the books. "But, my new friend, did you ever wonder exactly why the demons were exterminated. Why all our power was sealed away in forbidden libraries like these? Well, it's a long story." He turned back to Thomas. "I would tell you, but first, you have to agree to help me. You see, I... I can't die no matter how much I want to until my powers find a suitable vessel. I've remained trapped here for centuries, unable to live, unable to speak, unable to do anything but contemplate my horrible existence and wish for the sweet release of oblivion that would never come. So, will you help me? Please."

Thomas felt control return to his body. He opened his mouth. "Never. All demons lie. You simply desire my soul. Even I know that much."

The creature appeared to frown. "I knew it wouldn't be that easy." It walked around the table and stood behind him. Shivers ran up Thomas's back as he sensed it by his ear as though it was whispering to him. "But think of all the power you'd have. You could make the world bow to your will, rewrite the very fabric of existence to turn yourself into something like a god. Do you not desire such gifts, such knowledge? A soul is such a petty, simple thing to give in return." It waved its hand and the table in front of Thomas turned from plain wood to black obsidian that glistened in the light.

Thomas contemplated the offer for a moment, visions of him as lord of this world flashing through his head. He could have all he ever wanted. People would flock to him singing his praise, begging for even a modicum of his powers. He would know all. He would be all. He shook his head. No, while he desired knowledge, he didn't want it at such a cost. He would never give in to such a creature's demands.

"Never, demon. Now leave."

It walked back around the table and leaned against the far wall and seemed to deflate in size. "I commend you on your virtue and strength of will. Most men would've given into such base desires immediately, especially with the Charm I was using. You really would be quite a fine vessel for my powers you know. Fine. I guess I'll tell you whole story. It's my last chance after all. Even if you won't let me move on, consign me back to a living hell in that book, at least someone will know what happened."

"Long ago, man and demon lived in harmony on this world. Your kind was gifted in the ways of science and theory. Inventive beyond measure and possessed with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, they thrived using the world around them to create and build. We demons, we were gifted in the ways of magic and manipulation. While humans created with the world, we took and twisted it, transforming one thing to another, bending reality to our whims. For a many centuries, our two species worked together to create a paradise, a veritable utopia. But, as all things must, it came to an end. The humans became... afraid and jealous of our powers. While their science was formidable, magic could easily outclass it in most aspects. It all began in the old capital of Althea. The Great Plaza was destroyed in a horrible explosion during the Solstice Festival. Countless lives, both demon and human were lost that day, but our species was blamed. The attack was said to be magical in origin, and our kind were the only ones that could muster such power, they said. Then the war began. It should've been easy for us to win, after all our magic was so much more powerful, right? But instead, we found ourselves unable to use it. Human scientists managed to invent horrible devices that blocked our connection to the arcane energies that flowed through the atmosphere. After that it turned into a slaughter. Any and all demons, no matter their age or crimes were hunted down and killed mercilessly. Since we are unable to truly die until we pass our knowledge, our power, the very essence of our beings; our consciousnesses were sealed within books bound using our own bodies- our thoughts and memories trapped within the thick paper pages. We were forced to suffer each and every day, bound against our wills." He gestured at the pile of books on the table. "Each and every one of these tomes contains someone I once knew. Friends, family, neighbors. They will all suffer for eternity unless they can pass their power on. Please, help us." The demon sat down and placed its head in its hands. "Please." It whispered, barely audible.

Thomas sat for a moment, contemplating what to do. Everything he'd ever learned, everything he'd ever been taught told him not to trust a demon. Told him that they were bloodthirsty, conniving, power-hungry. Told him that they would do anything, say anything to get what they wanted. But the creature in front of him sounded so sincere. He looked over at the demon. It looked utterly broken. Even if his suffering was faked, there was always a chance it wasn't. Could he truly deny help to someone that might be in need? He knew then what he had to do.

"Yes, I'll help."

"That's fine. I understa..." The demon whispered quietly before looking up at him, its eye indentations wide with surprise. "Wait. Did you say yes?" It hopped to its feet and rushed over to him. "Thank you! Thank you!" Thomas felt its presence close behind him seconds before he felt it place a hand on his shoulder, the heavy goo slowly soaking into the heavy cloth of his outfit. "Thank you," its voice became low and sinister once more, a mere soundless whisper in his ear, "you foolish child."

Thomas went to turn but found himself immobilized once again. "You tricked me!" He glanced at his shoulder, feeling the goo reach his bare skin. He was shocked to see it was dissolving the fabric of tuxedo rapidly as it spread. "How could you?" He struggled to resist the magic binding him.

A chuckle. "It really is still far too easy to fool you humans. That's not to say that everything I said was false. Quite the contrary really." Thomas felt another hand get placed on his other shoulder. "We were sealed away for something we didn't do, but we certainly weren't quite that pure. Magic such as ours begets chaos, pride, and-" a mere hiss in his ear now, "-pleasure."

Thomas flinched for a moment as he felt a bolt of demonic magic flow from the creature's hands and rush through his body. Only a moment though, because as it swiftly pierced through the last of his defenses like they were wet paper, a jolt of unimaginable pleasure shot through him, his dick suddenly straining against the confines of his pants. "Wha.." He managed to gasp out.

"I finally found a suitable host after all these years. Not just one that I can possess, but one that I can become a part of them. Why wouldn't I want so share such delights with them."

"Become a part of? What are you talking about? I agreed to help you and your kind!" Thomas continued to try to fight but each time he struggled, his skin rubbed against the slick goo collecting across his body which sent more blasts of ecstasy throughout his body.

"And you are. Your body becoming my vessel heralds the rebirth of my kind. You are providing the ultimate help for me."

Thomas couldn't respond. The sensations coursing through his body had left him only able to pant and moan as the demon's slime finally ate through his pants and underclothes, coating his member in its silky embrace.

"And the best part is, you're going to enjoy every moment of it."

Thomas felt as the bonds of demon magic holding him were released. His rational mind screamed at him to run. This was his chance to get away, to retaliate, to get help, to do something.

Another wave of pleasure coursed through his body and Thomas found himself unable to do anything but thrust against the demon's body that coated almost his entire form at this point, moaning out a name that appeared in his head. "Salaxar."

"Yes. Time for the process to really begin."

Thomas panicked for a moment as the demon's head enveloped his own, the dark purple slime clouding his vision and filling his mouth. He choked, unable to breathe, but also equally unable to resist as lust and pleasure fried his mind at the direct contact.

Then, as quickly as it enveloped him, the demon disappeared, the goo seemingly absorbed into his skin. Thomas fell to the floor gasping for air on his knees. Beneath him, his cock ached, harder than it had ever been before. He knew that if he could just resist it, he still had a chance. His last chance.

Touch it. Salaxar's voice echoed in his mind. Embrace your new self._ Our new self._

A slight breeze brushed against his throbbing member eliciting another moan from him. He tried to stand, but found himself instead sitting, his right hand slowly inching towards his shaft. After one final struggle, it wrapped around the length and the battle was lost.

His hand pumped up and down seemingly lubricated from within with the swiftness that it was moving, each motion brining him to higher and higher plateaus of ecstasy. He was too lost in the sheer sensation of it all that he failed to notice with eyes glazed over and tongue hanging out that with each stroke, his dick inched longer and longer. It started from the modest four inches Thomas knew growing to five, six, eight, eleven, before stopping just over a foot long growing equally as thick. Beneath him, his balls bloated as well increasing his potency beyond human measure. By this point, Thomas had added his other hand to his frantic movements. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how intense the pleasure became, he still found himself unable to reach that wonderful, blissful peak. His muscles slowly expanded, his frame filling out. His stomach pushed out into a solid wall of muscle as his pectorals expanded becoming two hard slabs on his chest. His spine stretched adding height while his arms and legs inflated, becoming thick and corded with muscle that would put almost anyone to shame. He grunted as his teeth sharpened slightly in his mouth and his ears stretched into points. He thrust harder and harder into his hands trying to reach that point of relief he so desperately desired, his shaft now horribly sensitive.

Now come.

_ _ At those words inside his head, his shaft pulsed beneath his hands. Thomas yelled out in rapture as his vision went white and cum erupted out of him like a volcano, coating himself in its warm, sticky embrace. It continued for what felt like hours before it finally died down to a stream, and then a trickles. Thomas collapsed onto his back, lying in the puddle of his own juices trying desperately to catch his breath.

Ah ah ah, we're not even close to be done yet.

Thomas gasped as his shaft began to harden once more, even more sensitive so immediately after coming. Pre began to leak out of it once more, slowly shifting shades darker and darker until it was nearly the same color as Salaxar had been.

As the pre began to slide down his cock, assisted by the rapid stroking of his hands, Thomas's shaft began to change even more. He watched in a mixture of horror and delight as it darker and darker red in color as if it were filling with blood. Veins in it flared as the tip slowly began to push into a sharp point. Thomas grunted as his hand began to brush against small spikes that were pushing their way out, each brush against them sending a stronger and stronger rush of pleasure through him. Finally, the base of his cock inflated, two large sphere pushing out into a knot similar to what he knew canines possessed.

The skin closest to his cock turned dark and flaky, the hair falling out not long before the skin followed, revealing midnight black scales underneath. The changes continued up his torso, skin shedding and black scales covering his muscled form, up his abs and then across his pectorals. The changes stopped at his neck and then descended down his arms.

Thomas watched as the scales covered his hands and fingers, the nails turning black and falling off. A brief moment of pain was replaced by even more wonderful sensations as long, sharp claws burst from the tips of his fingers, curving outwards, sharp and deadly.

The changes continued downwards next- his legs becoming covered with the same black scales. What shocked and fascinated Thomas though was what happened when the changes reached his feet. His toenails turned black similarly to his fingernails, but instead of dropping off, they seemingly grew larger. Soon his entire foot was enveloped by the black mass, the sensation briefly fading from them before it returned greater than ever as they shaped themselves into large, intimidating hooves.

Finally, the scales started to creep up his neck and face. He grunted in pain as his face started to push outward, his skull reshaping and stretching into a muzzle. His teeth sharpened, becoming intimidating fangs that could bite through flesh and stone with equal ease. His hearing disappeared momentarily as his ears receded into his skull, becoming holes. Small nubs appeared on his head, stretching the scales to their limit before the sharp tip of a horn finally pierced through, blood dripping down the scales of his now draconic face as his horns grew and twisted, becoming symbols of his new demonhood.

He felt his spine start to stretch as the muscles on his back shifted- changing form to suit new functions. Sharp black bone spikes pushed their way out of his spine and elbows, honed to a deadly point. A spaded, demon tail erupted from above his butt as the skin on his back tore and two bat-like wings erupted out, flaring to their impressive full wingspan behind him.

The only thing that remained of Thomas's human form were his eyes, the light blue orbs clouded with lust as he worked at his shaft, his long serpentine tongue hanging out of his mouth. The power coursing through his body was intoxicating. Each and every molecule of his being throbbed with strength. He felt as though the very essence of the universe was coursing through his veins. He decided at that moment he would give anything to collect more of that power, to achieve more of this feeling.

Finally, you're ready.

His eyes flashed, black covering everything except the area immediately surrounding the thin, slit-like pupils, which had become a burning crimson red. He roared as his shaft erupted once more spewing black demonic cum across the library as the very last bit of his human soul was shredded, converted into more power for him and Salaxar.

As that last bit of soul dissolved, a strong pulse of demonic magic erupted out of Thomas's body. The library around him began to warp and change. The warded glass vibrated in its frames while the runes upon it glowed bright white, trying to resist the spell, but it shattered, shards disintegrating as they flew through the air. Wood became strong, black obsidian. Chairs twisted into jeweled, golden thrones, and the wizard lights adorning the walls seemed to implode in on themselves becoming voids of darkness that somehow still provided light. The stained glass window morphed, the blues and yellows becoming reds and blacks as the acts depicted upon it became something far less pure.

Finally, Thomas's orgasm died down once more. This time, his erection finally died down. He lay there in bliss for a moment, admiring his new body.

_I told you that you would enjoy it._Salaxar's voice echoed in his head once more.

"This is amazing." Thomas spoke, his voice many octaves deeper. He reached out and flexed his clawed hand, impressed with the deadly power within such a small gesture.

He stood and looked around the former library. Truly it had become a lair fit for a demon lord such as himself.

I was actually quite surprised by that. Your magical potential was far greater than I realized if your transformation caused something like this. This fusion of demon and human may be more powerful than even the greatest demon was in my time.

"How do we create more?"

Visions of bringing humans to this lair filled his mind. He could see himself releasing the essences of other demons from the books that adorned the shelves. He watched as they shifted into more bestial demonic forms, their bodies writhing in pleasure as his head. He knew they would have eager holes, waiting to be filled by one as powerful as he, craving to be dominated by their better. He could feel his cock stiffen in anticipation.

Quite the eager one, aren't we?

"We made a deal. And I know just where to start." He thought of the party going on downstairs, and grinned, fangs shining in the darkness.