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After the back-breaking labor of loading all two hundred, fifty-pound bags for transport, Lillith, Tuare and Sebas plopped down on the edge of the wagon. Only the girls had managed to work up a sweat and needed to catch their breath, but the Butler was yet to be winded.

In fact, he could have effortlessly packed it all into the wagons himself, but then Tuare and Lillith would have felt guilty for standing idly by while he did all the work. Sebas allowed them to help because he knew Lord Ainz had assigned them to moving the grain for the sole purpose of giving the other Guardians the impression that they were more useful than mere kitchen and maid staff.

Sebas was grateful for that. It was difficult enough for the girls as it was. As humans, they were out of place and inevitably looked down upon by all of Nazarick. Especially Lillith; she was not granted protection under the ruler's name as Tuare was, and the Butler constantly feared for her safety. While Demiurge kept her almost completely isolated on his Floor, she still had to walk a great distance across the Tomb to the kitchen to work, and there was always the hazard that she could cross paths with the ruthless Solution or Shalltear, who would not think twice about using her as an outlet for their hatred of mankind. She may be Demiurge's servant, but without the shield of immunity Tuare was blessed with, she was technically free game.

Sebas could not do much for her in that regard; he could only hope that she exercised the utmost caution when traveling to and from the 7th Floor.

But perhaps if it were to be made known by Lord Ainz that the humans were indeed pulling their weight, it would give them more value in the eyes of the other denizens of the Tomb.

Lillith and Tuare passed the canteen back and forth, taking sips and wiping sweat from their brows. The torrid heat from early summer was enough to take their breath away.

Lillith's tongue flicked out to sweep over her lower lip, chapped dry from the hot, late afternoon's wind.

As the Butler waited patiently for the maids to finish their water break, the horrifying realization dawned on him that without the demon present to place his specially-designed illusion over the perimeter of the property, the girls would see it for what it was; a concentration camp.

The Butler was well aware of the fact that Lillith would still have to come to the ranch to process hides on a somewhat regular basis, and he did not doubt that she would never be the same if she were to learn that the Abelion "sheep" were, in reality, human prisoners. Especially if she had _already_been put to work there. The last thing she needed was to discover that she was an accomplice in cleaning human skins, and unknowingly complicit to hundreds of innocent men, women and children being slaughtered like animals.

She and Tuare had already endured the worst of horrors. He would not needlessly subject them to another.

Desperate to find another means of making this work, Sebas excused himself momentarily and covertly messaged Solution, and requested that she at least keep an eye on the mansion while he made the delivery alone. But as he had wholeheartedly expected, she preferred to lie through her teeth about having literally anything else to do rather than babysit two humans. He had little doubt that she would go as far as to claim her cat was having a bat mitzvah if it got her out of it. Solution loathed mankind with a dark passion, and could not care less if the worst befell either of them.

Solution was the only one free to leave the Tomb at this point in time, who was actually human-looking enough to pass unnoticed in the Royal Capital.

'Curse Demiurge and his lack of foresight in this matter.'

Sebas had no choice but to deliver the supplies alone; the last thing he wanted to do was he leave the girls by themselves, but it was that or the both of them would be exposed genocidal atrocities and scarred for life, Lillith especially.

"Let us go inside; Pestonya has left a very generous reward for your hard work. I believe you will both find it most pleasing to your palates." Sebas politely prompted.

Tuare and Lillith glanced at each other with elated grins.

Food!

Pestonya was an phenomenal chef, and they were eager to learn what culinary delights she had so kindly gifted them with.

The girls hopped up off of the wagon's edge and trailed behind the Butler to the front door the mansion. He unlocked it with a gold skeleton key and pushed the large oak door open, and they were in stunned awe of the interior. They crossed a vast expanse of immaculate alabaster marble and to the right was a massive staircase which linked the main floor to the second, and it was a work of art in of itself; its intricate balusters exuded an air of elegance and the wrought-iron banister was elaborately adorned with curling intricate vine and leaf patterns.

They followed Sebas into the dining room, which was just as beautiful. Two gilded chandeliers rimmed with a skirts of crystals hung above the kitchen's white marble-top island and eight bentwood stools gave the space before it a bistro-style romance, creating an inviting blend of white and walnut cabinetry and coloration. The interior decoration of this place was simply extravagant.

Tuare and Lillith then beheld with sparkling wonder the centerpiece of the kitchen; a twelve-foot cherry wood table embellished with a long crimson cloth, which boasted an recherché spread of desserts, laid out in an artistically arranged array.

'Sweet Deity of Diabetes!'

Since coming to Nazarick, Lillith had developed a shameless sweet tooth and she was going to fat-ass so hard today.

"Please, have a seat. I will deliver the supplies to the ranch while you rest. The desserts are best enjoyed whilst they are still fresh." He offered.

"You don't need our help to unload it all?" Lillith asked, and hoped her skepticism didn't bleed into her voice too much.

"We don't mind!" Tuare chimed in.

"It is no trouble. You both have done quite enough. Your assistance today has been most appreciated." Sebas insisted. "I will return within two hours."

Lillith had a hard time believing they were done for the day, and she and Tuare exchanged puzzled looks.

But the Butler paid no mind to their obvious confusion, and promptly left, locking the front door behind him.

"W-was that weird to you, too?" Lillith inquired quizzically.

Tuare nodded. "I would say so." She agreed. Evasive behavior was extremely out of character for Sebas.

The Butler wasted no time, and climbed into the box seat of the carriage and whipped the horses into a hasty trot.

He did not like this at all; it was far from ideal and made his stomach churn with anxious turbulence. But it was the only option he had at this point. He had to make this trip as quick as possible.

---

While the Butler's sudden elusiveness was undeniably odd, he had promised he would only be gone for a few hours, so neither were too concerned. They took the opportunity to explore the mansion; they wandered into many the bedrooms and tried out each mattress. The bathrooms were just as marvelous. The black marble floor and classic chandelier gave it an air of royalty, and it was accentuated by many bronze light fixtures, gilded accessories, and a massive, tiled, glass-walled shower.

"Holy shit. I'm doing it." Lillith said, gaping at the shower.

"What?" Tuare asked, giving her a befuddled look.

"I'm taking a shower here." Lillith grinned. "It's fancier than Demiurge's, and I'm using it."

"A-are we allowed to?" Taure asked meekly, twirling her hair anxiously.

"Why not? We worked hard, we're sweaty, and we deserve it. What's a shower for if not to be used?" Lillith reasoned with a shrug, and began to strip down shamelessly.

"Come on! It's big enough for two. There's even twin shower heads!" She invited Tuare to join her.

"Um...well...I guess so." Tuare gave in to peer pressure all too easily.

They took a quick shower together, rinsing away the grime and sweat of the day.

"I wish I could live here." Lillith sighed as she dried off with the biggest, fluffiest towel she could find. "This place is amazing."

"Me too. I wish Sebas and I could stay here instead of the Tomb. But wherever he goes, I'll go. I owe my life to him." Tuare replied.

How Tuare's voice softened when she said she would follow him anywhere made Lillith wonder just how deep her feelings for the Butler ran.

It made her smile.

They finally had their fill of admiring the beauty and luxury of it all. Belatedly airing on the side of caution, Lillith then double-checked that all the doors and windows were locked, and mentally noted all exits. Her Master had stressed to her to do so in the brief few moments he had to speak to her before she left, so she did.

"If you take a break at the mansion, I want you to stay inside, and lock all doors and windows. And when you are out and about with Sebas, be wary. If anyone dares to touch you, fight with all that you have. Scream, claw, bite; make a massive scene. If you manage to cut them, I'll track them down by their blood trail." He crouched down to her level, so he could look her in the eye. His gaze darkened ominously, and his crystalline eyes roamed over her in a possessive perusal, and Lillith could discern how distressed he was over having to let her go.

_'We are only delivering grain from the mansion to the ranch. It is not like we are going to the market where there is a crowd of people'. _

But Demiurge's overly-cautious words would suggest otherwise.

"_If someone so much as _looks at you wrong, tell Sebas; and remember their face, so you can then later describe them to me. I will make them regret it_." The demon darkly concluded with all of the fiery rapaciousness of dragon guarding its hoard, the air between them heavy with that menacing _something rolling off of him. There was no single word for it, whatever it was.

Ownership. Maniacal jealousy. Avaricious possession.

It left little doubt as to what she was, though.

HIS, and his alone.

After changing into fresh uniforms, they hurried downstairs, eager to try each of the desserts that awaited them.

"What do you want to eat first? I see cheesecake, gelatin, cookies, carrot cake, and ooh! Chocolate-dipped strawberries!" Lillith squealed in delight as she perused the scrumptious selection of sweets.

"I don't know where to start..." Tuare was in awe of it all.

"I'm going to dig in to the cheesecake first...my ultimate weakness. I was positive I had died and gone to heaven the first time it touched my tongue." Lillith gushed, eyeballing the culinary masterpiece of fluffy, airy cream topped with the beauty of glossy, raspberry marbling, set in a flaky, buttery crust.

She picked up a knife, and then froze at the sensation, the weight of it in her hand. It dawned on her that she wasn't holding it in the manner suitable for a careful, precise cut for serving cake, she instead clutched it as one wielded a weapon, in preparation to stab. Slice. Kill.

Because she was a killer. The pale body of cake now reminded her of flesh and the glistening red swirls looked more like seeping wounds.

The cheesecake was no longer something beautiful, something that brought her sparkling excitement. The jubilant warmth that had elated her moments ago drained away and it now made her feel hollow, and the empty space in her chest felt as though it were filling with heavy, dark earth, burying her heart in filth.

"Um...maybe I'll have some later." She mumbled, and she put down the knife before she resigned herself to plucking one of the chocolate covered strawberries off an assorted tray instead.

They did not remind her of anything negative; the plump, ruby fruit was carefully dipped in milk chocolate ganache, and elegantly decorated in ribbons of white.

It was exquisite, pretty, ...safe.

She was no longer hungry, but she didn't want Tuare to worry too much. If Lillith ate something, maybe she could maintain the illusion that everything was fine. She didn't want to spoil the one day they got to leave the Tomb.

"Are you alright?" Tuare asked, noticing how her excitement had instantly dimmed.

"I think so...I'm just still..still a little off after I..." Lillith struggled to find the right words with an uncomfortable swallow. "Touching a knife feels...different now."

It was easier to pretend to be okay than admit that she was far from it.

Tuare cast her eyes downward, adding to the massive burden of guilt that was slowly crushing Lillith; and with her friend's gaze, Lillith's heart dropped through the floor.

'No! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...'

They _had_been having fun and were enjoying themselves. But all it took was one little reminder, one brief flashback, and the cheerful atmosphere was sucked from the room and replaced with suffocating, atramentous oppression and she felt herself falling right back into that deep, dark hole she had only just begun to dig herself out of.

'Fuck. I can't do anything right. I'll always ruin everything. Maybe this is why Master keeps me isolated; I'm not fit to be around anyone else. I deserve to be punished and locked away.'

Her sinuses stung a she felt tears threatening to spill, ones that burned and were painful to shed as she tried to steady her trembling hands to bring the fruit to her lips. She hesitated. If she opened her mouth to take a bite now, she would let out a broken sob, and spoil everything beyond repair.

A warm hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her downward spiral.

"It might take time to get through it. I know during my recovery every time someone raised a hand, whether it was to reach for something or to even touch their hair or adjust their clothes I would flinch after having a flashback." Tuare said quietly, trying to assure her friend that she could relate. "Sometimes I still catch myself doing it."

She let out a shaky breath. It made Lillith feel a little better to know she wasn't alone in this, and even if she had dampened the mood, someone understood. Someone cared.

"I hope I can just forget it, and move on." She said morosely, taking a bite of the strawberry. It was sharp and ripe but beautifully complimented by the rich chocolate; a harmonious marriage of decadent flavors.

_'I don't deserve something this good.' _She reprimanded herself harshly.

Tuare nodded. "We can only keep moving forward."

Growing increasingly uncomfortable by how she soured the mood, Lillith changed the subject.

"So, did anything interesting happen at the Tomb while I was at the ranch?" She asked, finishing the berry. Not because she really wanted to eat it, but because she preferred something so perfect to not go to waste after she had already bit into it.

"Not really. I'm still learning under Yuri Alph-"

They both heard the front door slam closed and they jumped in surprise. Sebas was back already? It had only been about an hour. Did he forget something?

Unfamiliar voices. Men. Tuare and Lillith froze.

"What the Hell was that?" Lillith whispered, her pulse racing and the hair on her arms prickling as she sensed danger.

Demiurge's pet listened and realized there was more than one set of footsteps thumping through the mansion. At least two, maybe three intruders.

'Fuck...someone is here, and they shouldn't be.'

Tuare just shook her head; she couldn't speak. Terror was etched all over her face, which rapidly drained of color.

S_he_had not had to learn to live in fear of her Master. With luxury of the illusion of safety, she had grown soft, secure with Sebas, leaving her fragile and vulnerable; and now she was paralyzed.

Frozen like prey.

Overcome with fear, Tuare was at an utter loss as to what to do. She had forgotten how to fight. She had never learned to kill. If Lillith didn't do something, her friend would not make it out of this alive.

'I'm the only one who can protect her.'

Footsteps echoed through the nearby living room, growing louder, closer; the intruders were coming towards the dining hall.

Anxiety skittered down her spine like the prickly legs of an insect as she realized it was probably too late for them to run. They only had time to hide.

"Get under the tablecloth." Lillith murmured, and she swept the knife off the table and grabbed one for her friend too.

They both crept under the furniture out of sight, careful not to bump the chairs and Lillith passed Tuare a knife, and her friend looked at it dumbly. She had never held a knife as a defensive weapon before. This did not go unnoticed by Demiurge's pet.

"Whatever you do, don't hesitate." Lillith lethally whispered, and hoped Tuare would understand the dire definition of her advice.

"Find her, quickly! I don't know how long he will be gone. I only know as soon as he discovers her missing, he will be coming for us." One of the intruders hissed pointedly to the others.

They were not thieves as Lillith initially thought. They were abductors, here to take her, or Tuare, or both.

She then came to the grim realization that if they both stayed under the table, they would be cornered and neither would have any chance of escape.

'Shit...we can't both stay here. She needs to get somewhere safe where she can at least close herself off from them.'

Lillith had precious few moments to formulate a plan. She scraped together her courage and turned to Tuare.

"On the count of three, you need to run to one of the bedrooms and lock yourself in. I'll distract them. You have to make it so Sebas can come find me. I can fight them." Lillith instructed under her breath.

Tuare looked at her incredulously as the weight of her friend's words sunk in.

"I can't leave you behind!" She argued.

"If you don't, we're both going to be taken, and neither of us will stand a chance. Someone has to tell Sebas someone took me. Get ready."

"But I-"

"Just do it! Please!" Lillith quietly snipped. "Please, Tuare!"

Her friend gulped nervously, and then reluctantly nodded.

"You're my best friend." Lillith sentimentally declared, and squeezed her hand reassuringly, swallowing back tears.

'We might die today. I never should have left the Tomb. This is what Master was afraid of.'

"One...two...three!"

Lillith crawled out, only to immediately see the one of the intruders nosing around.

"Hey, asshole!" She shouted. He whipped his head around to look at her, and her heart flipped into her throat.

Tuare then crept out from under the table and bolted around the corner, and Lillith heard her charging up the staircase and the bedroom door slam shut.

A small wave of relief washed over Lillith. Now her friend at least had a barrier between her and the intruders; but not a second later she heard at least two pairs of legs giving chase.

'Fuck.'

"Ooh, what do we have here?" He drawled with a smirk. The crispness of his voice and impeccable grooming of his long, red hair which was tied back into a loose ponytail, complimented by his flashy clothing, were stark contrasts to the cold calculation in his black eyes.

It was that same unnervingly icy calculation Demiurge's eyes gleamed with.

This man was dangerous, in the worst way. Her stomach churned with fraying nerves and dizzying anxiety.

But he was at least limited by the fact that he was merely human. As an Arch Devil, Demiurge was far more intimidating.

She noted that his clothes were primarily black and styled like a matador's. He wore a short and rigid jacket with shoulder reinforcements, accented with gold and crimson, and close-fitting tights which extended from the waist to underneath the knee. His look was completed by especially gaudy knee-high boots adorned with scarlet and yellow flame patterns. He was dressed more like a lion-tamer or bull fighter than a kidnapper.

If Lillith wasn't in the midst of a home invasion, she probably would have laughed at his ridiculous outfit and told him no one had informed her that the circus coming to town.

She drew her arm back, coiling and preparing to strike out at him. She just needed to wait for the right opportunity. If she struck to soon, he could grab and quickly disarm her.

Lillith cautiously darted her gaze around him, instinctively seeking a way out.

He was blocking the exit, and his upper lip curled back in a sneer as he could guess what thoughts were running through her mind. He could see that she wanted to flee, but couldn't. He had her right where he wanted her.

'I can't run. I can't leave Tuare behind, I have to fight.'

"Who the Hell are you?" Lillith growled.

_ "If anyone dares to touch you, fight with all that you have. Scream, claw, bite; make a massive scene. If you manage to cut them, I'll track them down by their blood trail." _

She was scared beyond belief, but her and Tuare's survival depended on her putting up a duplicitous front that she wasn't. If she could keep him talking, it would give Sebas more time to come back. The longer she kept him here, the likelier it was that there would be more signs, more clues for the Butler and Demiurge to follow. Her Master's sharp sense of smell was their greatest chance of being rescued.

He stalked closer, before haughtily muttering, "I'm here to make the old man pay for disgracing our organization's name."

That pissed Lillith off.

'Puh-lease. That 'old man' will wreck your shit six ways to Sunday. He's a Hell of a lot stronger than he looks.'

"And just who might you be?" He asked, looking her up in down with an imperious leer; sizing up his prey.

It was a gaze that made her skin crawl with revulsion.

Lillith glared back at him with as much animosity as she could muster. "I'm the one who will gouge your eyes out if you try to touch me."

He barked a laugh. "Ooh, I like you! You're a feisty little thing."

His gaze bored into her as he called over his shoulder to the others, "Find the other one! I'm not sure which whore is his. We'll take them both."

Lillith snorted with scrappy insolence. "Whore? Sebas doesn't have whores."

"Oh, really? The marks on your neck would say otherwise." He retorted, his eyes bright and challenging as he regarded the bruised bites with icy appraisal.

'Shit.'

"Sebas didn't leave those. My Master did." Lillith corrected him.

The man laughed airily. "Well, your Master, whomever he may be_,_ is not very gentle, is he?"

He began to circle her. Lillith moved counterclockwise, determined to keep at least two arm's length between them.

"No. He's not." She agreed. "He's an insanely possessive demon, so if you want to walk out of here alive, you and the others will leave now." Despite her best effort, her voice shook on the final word, and it came out more like a plea rather than the snap of an order. Adrenaline began to pour into her like a steady stream of gasoline, and she started to tremble all over, weakening her resolve to appear brave in the face of a man who was without a doubt just as methodically cruel as her demonic Master.

But Lillith was willing to try every tactic to get them out of this, even reasoning with her potential captors. This man did not seem like the reasonable type, but it was worth a shot.

She was assessing him as much as he was analyzing her. Lillith saw that he bore no weapons, so that was a promising sign that he intended to take them alive; but that did not mean he no intention of hurting either of them.

"No can do, little girl. If your Master wants you back, he'll have to come find you." And with that comment, he lunged.

Lillith ducked and slashed, and managed to slice his forearm open as he reached for her.

It was a lucky shot. She wasn't aiming, just blindly slashing with the hope of keeping him at a distance.

He hissed in pain and reeled back, in disbelief that his prey had succeeded in wounding him. His eyes flashed dangerously; he had earned a five-inch gash and it began to seep, blood rolled down his arm in crimson stripes. He was on his toes now, glaring at her, calculating, reevaluating.

A wooden pounding rang out from upstairs. The other intruders were trying to kick the door down.

Rage.

Lillith felt that same animalistic rage from when she found her personal Devil tied to a chair spill into her veins, clashing with primal fear.

"That wasn't very nice, little girl. You're going to pay for that." He growled as he leered at her, his black eyes glittering like chips of obsidian with false humor, and it simultaneously unnerved Lillith and also made her want to tear them out of his skull.

He lunged again, and she swung the blade, but it was a feigned move on his part; it was not an attempt to actually grab her. It would seem he was testing his reach and her reflexes; trying to determine what he would have to do to actually wrangle her into submission.

Another slam against the bedroom door; louder this time. They were no longer kicking it, but from the sound of it, ramming their full body weight into it. It wouldn't be long before they broke past the barricade.

'Damn it.'

The gaudily dressed man regarded her warily. She was nowhere near as afraid of him as she should have been. He had abducted at least a dozen women in his lifetime, but none of them managed to hurt him with more than a few hard bites or clawing hands of resistance while he shoved them into the back of a stagecoach or a cell. This one faced him and fought like she had seen opponents far more formidable than he, and he could not help but wonder if she was genuinely being truthful about her Master being a demon. The bites on her neck were rather deep...as though they had been made with fangs rather than teeth.

And her eyes...while a brilliant shade of cobalt blue, there was the veil of something dark haunting the depths of them.

The splintering crash of the bedroom door being busted open and Tuare shrieking in panic made her jolt.

'Fuck! NO!'

"Come quietly, or your friend is going to pay for your resistance." He rasped, his voice brimming with disdain. The bastard stared her down, which sent a surge of unbidden animosity through Lillith as his eyes gleamed with triumph, as he was so sure he now had leverage.

He squared his shoulders in an effort to look more intimidating, and he suddenly seemed almost as tall and daunting as her Master.

Almost.

Not quite, though. Demiurge made practically anyone look laughably weak. It was difficult to fear a pussycat when Lillith lived with a lion.

Lillith knew she couldn't back down. If she went willingly, no one would be able to tell Sebas what happened. It would seem the intruders' purpose of being here was to take them alive (at least for now), so it was highly doubtful that they would kill Tuare as punishment for her insolence. If they did not know who was more important to Sebas, they would likely keep them both alive. So Lillith would continue to resist. He would not be expecting that.

In fact, she was really going to throw this fucker off his game.

'Be like Master. Cold. Unfeeling. A killer.'

She steeled her nerves, and slipped on her wildest, most psychotic expression.

"I don't give a shit! You think I care about anyone but myself? You think I've survived this long by having a fucking heart? My Master trained me to kill scarier things than you!" She roared stridently with so much blistering menace that it was tangible enough to grasp, and swiped at him the blade with a vehement snarl.

He actually took a few steps back, and a small flame of victory flared in her heart. She successfully rattled him! She took advantage of the momentary distraction and blindly snatched a vase off of an end table and flung it at him; he narrowly dodged it as it shattered into a million pieces next to his head against the wall.

"We got her!" Someone bellowed over Tuare's frenetic screams.

'Shit!'

Lillith deeply hoped Tuare used the knife at least once to cut one of them, so a blood trail would lead them to wherever they were headed from here.

"Take her out the back door and get out of here. I'll grab this one and catch up with you down the road." He called to them, and Lillith heard them coming down the stairs and Tuare thrashing and screaming the whole way. They were around the corner, so she could not see if her friend was hurt or not, and she knew better than to take her eyes off of this asshole for even a fraction of a second.

"Like Hell you will." Lillith spat, bristling with ire.

She knew she had a better chance one on one, but she wasn't unrealistic. This guy could easily injure, if not kill her, and while she might land one or two decent strikes (if she was lucky), she was still sleep deprived, malnourished and exhausted after moving bags of heavy bags of grain. This was all a bluff, a chance for Tuare to barricade herself and later escape unharmed; but her half-baked plan came crashing down with that bedroom door.

She was fucked. They both were.

For the first time ever, she wished her big, scary, monster of a Master was here.

'Fuck. FUCK. FUCK!'

"I'm done playing around, kid." The matador growled, and his brows drew into a cold and menacing scowl.

"So am I!" Lillith shot back, glaring at him with equally livid fury.

Lillith so fucking angry; angry at him, angry at herself that her spur-of-the-moment plan had failed and now her friend might pay the ultimate price, and even angry at Sebas for leaving them here alone; she had been under the impression they were supposed to go with him to unload the grain.

Maybe then this wouldn't have happened.

But outweighing all of the above was how much she despised that she was so small and frail, and helpless to stop them. Her blood thrummed with rage and fear and adrenaline, a potently corrosive mixture swirling like acid in her veins, shooting a surge of simmering wrath into her chest.

And as much as Lillith wanted to believe Tuare had heeded her words not to hesitate, she couldn't rely on the slim chance that her friend damaged her captors. Fear was a powerful force, and it was more likely than not that had she froze rather than fought. So Lillith was going to make damn sure she left a blood trail for Demiurge herself, whether she made it out of this alive or not. Maybe then they could at least rescue Tuare.

She swallowed back the burning bile that rose in her throat, knowing this could very well be the end for her.

Her chest ached with a suffocating, sinking sensation of doom. It was all or nothing now.

'Death drums his fingers and waits for us all.'

She was so sick of being prey, and she'd be damned if she were to be a human's victim ever again when she was owned by what she was positive to be THE Devil himself. Months ago, she would have cowered before this man and surrendered, come what may. But no more. Demiurge had broken her, reshaped her; trained her to draw blood, and to mercilessly snuff out the light of life in another's eyes.

She would not be his victim. She would kneel before her demonic Master, but she would yield to no mere man.

_ Fight. KILL. _

Whatever happened, Lillith was sure of one thing; if she were to die today, she would fight tooth and nail to make this bastard bleed.

'Make a move first, and you should have an advantage.'

She snarled a battle cry and charged at her opponent, hurling herself at him in a lioness's lunge.

Lillith had expected her weight to throw him off balance, as her goal was to make him fall and hit his head; but to her dismay, it failed. He had braced himself, planting his feet firmly in place.

She was small, and wasn't nearly as heavy as she had estimated; she had forgotten she had lost a few pounds during her "retraining." Lillith wrapped her legs around his waist to stop herself from falling, and clutched his back and if nothing else, it effectively confused him...he was not expecting her to charge, and especially had not expected her to fold her legs around and cling to him in a near lover's embrace. It bewildered him just long enough for her to plunge her face down and clamp her jaws onto the side of his neck in a brutal bite, then violently shook her head like a pit bull. Lillith tasted metallic blood blooming over her taste buds, and felt his flesh rend beneath her teeth.

"Fucking feral bitch!" He yelled and then grabbed her by the hair and arm, yanking so savagely that she felt more than a few strands ripping from her scalp and he dug his fingers in, deeply bruising her bicep as he tried to pry her off of him with a vice-like grip. She hissed in pain and unclenched her jaw only to trade one weapon for another, and then plunged the knife into his shoulder, and she felt the blade grind against bone as she buried it to the hilt.

She had been aiming for his heart, but his wild flailing as he tried to peel her off caused her to miss. He audibly gasped in pain, and in his surprise he flung her with enough momentum to send her crashing to the ground. Lillith struck the unforgiving marble and the force crushed the air out of her lungs, causing her to cough and gasp like a fish out of water. He then swiftly pulled a karambit dagger out from an internal pocket from his jacket, arming himself. It was a wicked-looking, curved like a tiger's claw and glinted like polished steel. He then stumbled a few steps back from her, growing unsteady as bodily shock set in.

He was finally taking her seriously, and now that she had proven to be more trouble for him than she was worth, he no longer seemed to be in favor of taking her in alive. He seemed to grow larger, taller as his rage brewed, and her confidence wavered as he bared his teeth in grimace of agony, and locked his narrowed eyes with hers.

He was hurt, but now he was really pissed.

Realizing this was her chance for escape before he wrenched the blade out, she took advantage of his momentarily stunned state and scrambled for the front door.

...Which suddenly came crashing down off of the hinges as it was kicked in, and narrowly missed flattening her. She glanced up expecting to see Sebas, but what met her instead was the silhouette of someone big and broad enough to almost block the entire doorway.

'Holy shit!'

He took a massive step forward and ducked just to clear the top of the door frame. Her pulse kicked wildly, her terror ascending to new heights; adrenaline was the only thing that forced her to clumsily clamber the Hell out of his way before he squashed her like a bug and crushed her skull with his boot.

Lillith swiveled around and fled for the dining room, dashing madly past her first attacker, who was occupied with trying to rip the knife out of his shoulder.

'There's no fucking way could I take that giant on! I'm trapped!'

She dove under the table; she would have to hide instead, and just hope neither saw where she went amidst the chaos.

"I thought I told you to take the other one and leave!" The man snapped acidly at the giant who came trudging in, and then managed to pull the blade out with a gasping grunt. He then whipped around to face him. "I have it under con-"

He instantly fell silent as the grave. Lillith watched from beneath the table cloth, and could only see from their calves down. As the giant moved towards the matador, her would-be captor's legs began to quake under him, and he clumsily staggered backwards as the stranger closed in on him. Whoever this was, even the intruder was scared shitless of him.

"Who the Hell a-"

His words were cut short as he suddenly disappeared from Lillith's line of sight and his feet left the ground. There was a metallic clang as his weapon was tossed aside, and a long, agonized scream was torn from his lungs, followed by multiple sickening bony cracks and wet pops, and the visceral sounds caused Lillith to have a flashback of Demiurge mercilessly shattering the prisoner's kneecap. The matador then plummeted to the floor with a dull, meaty thud. His twitching carcass was now contorted into impossible angles, as though his frame were made of pliable rubber rather than structured with sturdy bones.

The giant had wrenched and folded his entire body into a literal fucking pretzel; and sharp edges of snapped ivory bones pierced through and jutted out of the skin of his crooked limbs in multiple places. Lillith's hand flew to her mouth to prevent a gasp of horror, and she shuddered at the ghastly sight of his neck being so gruesomely twisted that his head was now practically upside down, and the tightly wound flesh of his neck reminded her of a rag being wrung. Blood poured from his nose and his tongue hung out of his mouth almost comically.

The giant had tied him together like a bow; like he was nothing.

'I'm so fucked. Demiurge probably couldn't even fight this one. He's fucking huge; he'll probably swallow me whole.'

He sauntered towards the dining room. She had expected to be able to feel his footsteps, but for someone of such formidable size, he moved with surprising silence. She only heard the wispy shuffle of his clothes. The giant sniffed lightly and then headed directly for the dinner table.

He knew exactly where she was.

Every ounce of bravery and defiance that she had fought tooth and nail with fled from her body at the idea of taking on this massive motherfucker who was armed with immeasurable brute strength. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin, and Lillith now felt as small and fragile as she truly was.

Tears of terror spilled down her cheeks, and she clenched her eyes shut as her hammering heart roared in her ears. Lillith was so petrified, she was sure at any moment she would pass out.

'This is it; this is how I die. Tuare is going to be killed, and so am I.'

She waited for the table to be violently overturned; but nothing happened. He merely paused in front of it. She cracked her eyes open and stared bleary-eyed at his black steel-toed boots.

"You can come out, little one. You're safe now."

Little one. Her breath froze in her chest. Someone had called her that once. But in her state of shock, she failed to recall who.

His voice was a heavy, rich baritone, dark and smooth like black velvet. It was distantly familiar...and somehow comforting. For some reason, she felt inclined to believe him, but she remained wary.

Master told her to be wary.

"Ple-please don't hurt me..." She whispered so quietly it was barely audible. "Please..."

"I would _never_hurt you." He promised, and his voice softened with sincerity. She watched him come to a kneel before the table, and she cautiously scooted back. "My brother would kill me if I dared to harm a hair on your head."

She saw a steely, armor plated tail armed with spikes on its final segments fluidly coil around his form as he assumed a less intimidating position, and he slowly offered a black gloved hand to her under the table. The fingers within ended in curved talons.

"M-Master?"

He chuckled. "Not quite."

Lillith had heard that laugh before. She associated it with trust and warmth. But she could not pin down where she had heard it.

Every fiber of her being assured her that she was safe with this stranger. If he really wanted to get to her, he could toss the table aside with no effort, leaving her exposed and even more terrified than she already was. Instead, he was patiently waiting for her to come out on her own; so he must not have any intention of harming her.

Tentatively, she laid her hand in his, and crawled out from under the table. She looked to his face, and couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped her lips.

The demon looked startlingly similar to her Master, as he possessed regal, angular features; but he appeared to be about five to eight years older. His dark mane was combed back in the same manner Demiurge tamed his, and fell a little further than his shoulders, which seemed to be a mile wide. He had long, sharp ears, both of which were pierced with several golden rings and cuffs. He did not wear spectacles as Demiurge did, but he shared the same trait of gemstone eyes, and the finely cut facets gleamed with hues of blue; azure, indigo, cerulean, cobalt, and ultramarine. They were like sapphires containing arctic waters. The Arch Devil was dressed in a deep violet tailcoat with lilac pinstripes, secured with enameled gold buttons and it had an aristocratic feel to it. Beneath it was a charcoal black dress shirt and like her Master, he accentuated his look with a red tie.

He was undeniably beautiful.

"Who are you?" Lillith asked.

The demon smiled softly at her.

"My name is Malphas, and I am your Master's elder brother."

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