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Lillith lie anxiously waiting for her Master to return in eerily deafening silence. She estimated it had been approximately four to six hours since Demiurge had drug the lamb away. The broad smear of blood on the floor had dried, and she was ashamed to admit the thought of licking at the blood to satiate her festering hunger had crossed her mind more than once.

How long did it take to butcher a lamb? She did not know, and she especially didn't want to contemplate the details of the bloody and gruesome process.

She compelled herself to concentrate on something else besides food. She'd lose her mind if she didn't.

Lillith missed Azazel; it was easier to distract herself when he were here. She could pass the time with one-sided conversations, and at least alleviate her nerves by petting or playing with him. She had not seen him all day since Demiurge had sent him back outside to work the field.

Where he apparently killed the lamb's mother.

_"It has already been a full 38 hours without food."_Her Master had said when he was presenting his case as to why it would be the kindest thing to do to put the animal out of its misery.

And how easily he had persuaded her into doing it bothered the shit out of her. He could without a doubt con the wings off of an angel.

In fact, Demiurge would have made one Hell of a lawyer.

But had she even been here a full 38 hours? She knew it had been at the very least a day and a half...maybe two?

'I think...what is today?' She didn't even know what day of the week it was. Or what time. Or if this was even a dream.

Her thoughts were scattered and drifting loosely around in her head, like a box of shaken up puzzle pieces.

Was this what it was to gradually descend into madness?

Did Azazel kill the ewe and Demiurge take the lamb and keep it until he decided he wanted to see if she would have the backbone to butcher it?

Or did her Master just steal it from its mother and drug it like he drugged her so it seemed lethargic and sickly, all for some sort of fucked up mind game?

Was it all an elaborate ruse and Demiurge was simply testing the extent of her obedience and compliance by having her kill an animal he picked out himself?

Lillith couldn't be sure. One scenario was just as likely as the other. Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

'I'll drive myself insane if I keep overthinking this...'

She arched her back and stretched her legs out stiffly like a cat awakening from a nap, and groaned. The thick, weighted collar restrictively tugged downwards on her sore neck.

'I can't wait to get this damned thing off.'

Even more wearisome as the pain and discomfort in her joints and muscles was that lingering, screamingly persistent hunger that twisted her guts into knots.

At this point, she would gladly do whatever it took to eat; no matter how humiliating or immoral the command. Lillith desperately wanted to make it out of this alive, so she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to obey whatever fucked up order he gave her.

"He's going to test your limits to the breaking point. But if you stand strong, you will make it." The voice in her dream had advised.

Lillith knew it was true. Her Master was trying to break her, but she would not give in.

'I won't let him win.'

She drug her aching body over to the water bowl, the unwieldy chain clanging loudly along the cement as she leaned over it to drink, only to remember it was empty.

'Fuck.'

She could only hope he would return soon.

The door then swung open, and Demiurge entered with Azazel and their lunch; a tray of two steaming ceramic plates of more chopped prime steak in one hand, and the whip in the other.

'Speak of the Devil.'

Azazel trotted along side his master, his tongue lolling out of his grinning jaws. He paced enthusiastically in front of the demon, his nub wagging wildly in excitement at the mouth-watering aroma of bourbon and sweet maple wafting from the meat.

The Arch Devil set down the trays on the floor. Azazel stood three steps back from his share, awaiting a command.

_'Sitzen.'_Azazel immediately planted his rear on the ground, his ears pricked forward, earning a prompt reward of meat which he snapped out of the air.

Lillith crawled over to her master on her hands and knees, and sat before him, following the dog's example.

Demiurge turned to his servant and smirked.

"Excellent, you are learning to come and await orders on your own." He acknowledged her with genuine sincerity, yet no reward was given.

He returned his attention back to the dog, paying her no mind.

"Herunter." Azazel laid down obediently.

'Was that unworthy? Did I do something wrong?'

Lillith thought for a moment, and looked from her Master and then to the Doberman.

Azazel lie in wait of his next order, and Lillith connected the dots. Realizing she was given a hint with the dog's last command as to what the demon was waiting for, she lowered her front half to the ground in a slave's grovel on the cold concrete.

"Very good! You determined what was lacking as to why you were not given your reward. Your progress is quite pleasing." Demiurge commended her, and knelt down to present her with two pieces of meat rather than one, a more filling reward which she eagerly downed.

His servant eagerly licked his digits clean before he could even order her to, not letting a drop of the sweet and delectable juices go to waste. She was starving.

"Azazel, essen." Demiurge released the dog and allowed him to eat. Azazel lunged for his plate and devoured his breakfast.

Lillith awaited the next command, remaining focused and attentive just as the Doberman had.

The demon rose to his feet, his tail flicking as he contemplated what he wanted her to do next.

"Clean my shoes..." Demiurge ordered, testing the depths of her compliance.

Lillith looked at him inquisitively, indecisive in how which to proceed.

'How? And with what?'

"...with your tongue." Demiurge specified with a cavalier smirk and a raised brow which implied that he did not believe she would acquiesce with this request.

Lillith looked down at his shoes, and they were not particularly dirty. The demon religiously kept his clothes in immaculate condition; his suit, shirt and trousers were always flawlessly pressed and one of her chores was to keep his shoes polished and free of dirt or scuffs.

Was it a degrading order? Absolutely.

But dirty or gross? Not so much. She had done far worse for food.

Lillith was hungry, and beyond caring at this point, so she did not argue and obeyed, crouching down low with her ass in the air and swiping her tongue over the smooth leather toe box and vamps of his shoes until they gleamed.

A pleased hum left the Arch Devil's throat. She offered zero resistance to degrading command, and followed through immediately once she understood exactly what he wanted her to do. Her master was admittedly impressed by her utmost compliance; it seemed the whip and deprivation of food and sleep proved to be a extremely effective tool in gaining her ultimate submission.

"What a good girl..." He said with a gratified grin. "You may get up."

She rose from the floor, and he gave her another piece of meat, which she swallowed whole. He then let her clean his fingers again and patted her head.

To her dismay, the Arch Devil picked up her plate and carried it with him to the chair, and set it on the small table out of her reach.

What was he up to?

Demiurge reclined back in the chair, and got comfortable. He laid the whip over the armrest of the chair, disarming himself for the moment (although with his claws and tail he was never truly weaponless).

"Come." He ordered, looking down at her with a wolfish smirk.

Lillith stalked towards him on her hands and knees, slowly and warily, the bulky chain rattling against the floor. She halted two steps before him, awaiting the subsequent command.

"Closer." He said, his fanged grin widening.

His servant shuffled further forward, until she was almost between his legs.

"Up." Her master ordered.

Her head canted, unsure as to what he meant.

'Sit up? Stand up?'

Surely he did not mean up onto the forbidden furniture? Or up on him? Both were off limits, that much he had made frighteningly clear.

"...I'll be more specific. Onto my lap. For today, you are permitted." Demiurge elaborated, patting his leg in encouragement.

Lillith's eyes widened and she blushed madly; her heart dropped hard into the pit of her stomach.

'Is he serious?'

She hesitated, her fear and skepticism discernible on her face. She did not move, despite his permission, as she was dubious in how to safely climb up on him. What if she touched him in a way which may upset him? She did not want to make the one false move that resulted in the end of his whip finding her hide.

"I see. I suppose with the changed rules the command is rather confusing." He said admitted thoughtfully.

Without warning Demiurge leaned forward and grabbed her, scooping her up in his arms and she squealed in surprise. He hauled her effortlessly onto the chair with him, and lowered her nude body onto his thighs, laying her flat with her midsection over his lap. It was utterly degrading, like a child about to be spanked, or in this case, an over-sized lap dog. His servant breathed short and fast through her nose, shocked and terrified of being in such a vulnerable position, bent over the Arch Devil. She squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, acutely aware of the growing bulge pressing up against her stomach. He stilled her with a hand on her shoulder blades, pressing firmly downward. She ceased her struggle, still very much afraid of the whip resting on the arm of the chair which her arms were now draped over as well.

"There...good girl." He purred, and to only add to her utter shock, he started to pet her hair softly as though he were stroking a beloved pet. She was frozen in place, her breath shallow and anxious. His black gloved fingers lightly combed through her golden locks, and he was actually careful not to scratch her with his sharp claws, though they still ghosted lightly but threateningly over her scalp.

As much as she wished she could enjoy the gentle touch, everything about the situation made alarm bells ring furiously in her head. It was all too obvious that the demon had something more than a gentle petting in mind, especially with the hard ridge of his rapidly growing erection pressing into her abdomen and the burgeoning warmth of his lap.

"You've been doing so well with your training..." He gushed, his voice carrying an underlying chill of carnal intent.

A tiny whimper of anxiety escaped her throat when his gloved hands drifted down the back of her neck, tracing a searing path ever so gently over the scars his talons had previously carved into her flesh during his hateful aggression.

His palms trailed over her shoulder blades, lazily traveling down the small of her back.

As he reached her bare rear, his hands smoothed over it, and she blinked rapidly, her breath leaving her nose and mouth in shallow gasps.

He then squeezed her bottom with both hands, his claws lightly pricking in as he admired the plump flesh in his grasp and her fingers harshly dug into the armrest of the chair in response. Choking out another stifled cry, she glanced back at him and by his dark, hungry gaze she knew this was only going to escalate.

He confirmed her fear when a vicious grin crossed his face, sharpening his originally playfully amused expression. Demiurge clutched harder, pushing and kneading and while she tried to swallow it, she couldn't choke back the moan that left her lips. He replied with a low rumble, his tongue curling over his fang.

"...I think you are deserving of a little extra attention for your compliance." He said with a mischievous undertone. "I won't apologize, but I will admit I was slightly..._off_in my calculation of how much Zydrate I gave you. But you have proven most resilient, and quite accommodating of my requests, all things considered. Granted, this would have easily been avoided, should you have simply knelt to me on that day as you had been routinely and most respectfully doing, and not developed such a defiant streak."

' Most resilient? You almost killed me, asshole!' Lillith narrowed her gaze_. 'Did he seriously just say he's kind of sorry, but not really? Dick!'_

Seeing her annoyed displeasure, he continued.

"You have been presented with the guidelines for which you will be disciplined. It is all rather self-explanatory; obey, and behave yourself, and you will only be rewarded, as you are now. Defy me, or misbehave, and you will be punished. Any reprimand you receive will be given with your previous knowledge as to what I had expected from you as my servant, my submissive."

'Oh, fuck you.'

Demiurge's wandering hand slipped further down her rear, and lightly brushed the dip between her thighs, and to his surprise, while she did tense, she maintained her silence.

A hum of intrigue left the Arch Devil's lips. He had obviously struck a nerve with his words, and with the added insecurity of her compromising position, she withheld the totality of her reactions.

"Oh, come now. I think we have made some progress here, don't you agree? Not once have I had to use the whip on you today."

That was true. She had remembered to remain on all fours and to kneel, and not to speak. She slaughtered the lamb as he asked and had done everything right, so he had not needed to threaten her with the whip once.

Still, Lillith huffed through her nose; she was far from appeased by his half-assed 'apology'.

Demiurge saw her determination to deprive him of a response as a challenge, one he would easily overcome. He was masterful with his hands, and could break her resolve just as easily as her neck with only one hand.

His servant quietly hissed through her teeth as his digits lightly grazed over her slit. He teasingly stroked her with his middle finger, his touch tortuously feather-light as he mercifully minded the sharp point it ended in.

"Are you really so cross with me now?" He playfully teased as he continued taunting her with a single digit, this time pressing a little harder. "Whether you are or not, I will still make you scream for me..."

The demon lightly traced the shape of her folds, sweeping his gloved finger back and forth tormentingly. He did this slowly, deliberately, before inching closer to the hood of her entrance, encircling her clitoris. She bit her tongue, trying desperately to hold back.

Lillith whimpered low in her throat, fighting the urge to writhe in his lap. A throbbing heat was rapidly unfurling from her core beneath his expert ministrations, but she did not want to give him any satisfaction.

When he applied slight but perfect pressure to the sensitive bud, she couldn't help but mewl, her voice climbing an octave higher. He then gently rolled it between his finger and thumb.

She cried out loudly and writhed in place like a worm impaled on a hook, finally breaking and giving him the desired response and he chuckled low in his throat. But as an ever-greedy demon, he would not be satisfied until he heard her scream.

As his digit brushed over her again, she noticed it was no longer armed with his claw as they were now retracted. Anticipation raced through her bloodstream; he only ever hid his talons for one reason. Demiurge continued to gently stroke her with one skilled finger, each caress drawing forth more of her arousal.

"Very good..." He whispered huskily, seemingly satisfied with how slick she was for him.

The prurient purr of his voice set her stomach churning and skin tingling. Slowly, almost stealthily, his finger entered her, pushing a little deeper with each undulation. Her body involuntarily arched against the sudden penetration, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. The demon held her in place with a hand flat across her shoulder blades, forcing her back down. Her inner walls clenched around the thickness of his finger, as if trying to keep him inside. He teased her at first, only giving her up to his first knuckle. As if acting on the whim of its master, Lillith's body opened up for him, eager and yearning to be filled. She could feel herself grow wetter and wetter, stimulated by the taunting of his finger. He slid his digit in deeper, sheathing it up to the hilt, and curled it as if calling her towards him; she whined low in her throat as he grazed closely to the tenderest place in her core.

He slipped in a second digit, earning another high cry; slowly, fluidly he flexed his fingers in and out of her heat, pulling loud, breathy moans from her lungs. She squirmed in his lap, her abdomen grazing his stiff erection. Lillith heard him draw a sharp breath through his teeth at the contact.

Lillith came unhinged rapidly, his digits were so much more fulfilling than her own. Her breasts heaved against his thigh with each and every massive breath she tried to scrape into her lungs.

The Arch Devil pumped his hand into her heat faster, but with enough restraint to keep her body from soaring over the edge into sweet ecstasy and she panted and gasped without actually drawing a drop of breath into her lungs as she teetered on the brink, rapture tightening in her loins. He moved his free hand from her back to grasp her rear once again, squeezing tightly.

His servant moaned, turning her pleading gaze to her master, imploring him not to stop, her eyes wide.

The desperation in her panicked gaze made him even harder.

He grinned down at her, and leaned forward; to her utter shock he drug his tongue over her ass cheek. She gasped audibly; he had never done that before. The demon then sank his fangs into the pale flesh with a gentle but startling bite, simultaneously curling his fingers back inside her; Lillith screamed as they pressed the hypersensitive bundle of nerves with pinpoint accuracy. She came hard around his digits, her walls contracting and sucking his fingers in deeply, the result of his exquisite torture dripping over his glove.

Demiurge licked his lips. No matter how irritated she was with him, he would always win.

"Well then...you cannot say you are too upset with me..." He said with an imperious tone and insufferable smirk. "You came awfully hard."

Lillith blushed but was still more than a little irritated.

'That doesn't mean you aren't still an arrogant asshole.'

"Now, I'll go retrieve your reward." Demiurge said, playfully patting her ass. He then lowered her onto the floor before leaving the room once more, taking the plate of steak he had brought with him away.

'No!' Her heart sank. 'But that was mine!'

She scolded herself for not just swallowing her pride and giving him whatever he wanted. She should know by now not to fight him.

'Pride doesn't mean jack shit if you are dead. Idiot.'

Lillith could only hope her reward was food, and would be brought soon. Because now she was still hungry and still out of water.

---

***One Year Ago***

"Get away from me!" The dark-haired female shrilled, swatting at the red-clad demon who scowled and ignored her as he grabbed her by the arm, dragging her kicking and screaming like a child throwing a tantrum back over the threshold of the 7th Floor.

She hurled herself to the ground, thrashing wildly, grasping at anything and everything as she desperately sought purchase, clawing at hard stone and cracking her nails, but the demon didn't miss a step as he hauled her back into his domain.

Demiurge was lucky this time. He had been hiding humans on his Floor for months. None of the other Guardians or Lord Ainz ventured so far as to his personal quarters, and were too polite to arrive unannounced. Thanks to the distance between Floors, he was usually contacted through {Message}. When it was nearing Pestonya's scheduled cleaning days he would drug his victims and fly them to the ranch, leaving them chained in the basement. He then used a spell to rid his domain of their scent so they would not be detected by the dog-headed maid's sharp sense of smell. Afterwards he would smuggle them back in using a portal. This allowed him to keep his secret pets in isolation.

What his Master did not know wouldn't hurt him. Demiurge needed an outlet for his more vicious and carnal desires. If he went too long without purging himself of blood lust and sexual frustration, it became extremely difficult for him to focus on his work. This hindered his ability to channel his full potential for the good of Nazarick, and he would not allow himself to be less than a freshly sharpened blade, a most deadly and effective tool for Lord Ainz. He saw what became of Albedo and Shalltear when their primitive desires were not quelled; they bickered like children and distracted themselves from the ultimate goal, thus becoming one noisy and massive diversion to all the Guardians. Demiurge refused to reduce himself to such pettiness, and could never forgive himself if he miscalculated something vital and his Master or one of the Guardians paid for his mistake.

He witnessed such foolishness firsthand when Albedo chose to allow Lord Ainz to battle Shalltear alone when she fell under the influence of the World Item. Demiurge would never, ever forgive her for doing something so careless and stupid. His Supervisor could justify it however she pleased, but he knew she did it because she allowed her humanistic feelings of 'love' get in the way of logic and made such a call largely because her judgement was clouded by unsatisfied lustful need.

So the Arch Devil concluded keeping a human handy for when his own needs arose was the most effective way to deal with his demonic desires. Humans were weak, plentiful, disposable, and posed very little to zero threat.

How the Hell this one managed to find a way around Greed and Envy to get this far, he didn't know, nor did he care. He only knew he intended to make her severely regret trying to run away from him.

He had been kind enough to spare her, and pulled her from the herd at the ranch when she pleaded for her life and promised to be his slave in return for not processing her as she was moved to the butchering ring.

She had practically thrown herself at his feet and groveled like a peasant to a king; it was mildly amusing and she seemed willing to go home with him, so he took a chance, simply to test if she were truly willing to do as he asked.

But he should have known better. Humans will say literally anything to survive, but rarely do they hold up their end of the bargain.

"Nooo...I was so-so close..." She howled and sobbed. "I was almost f-free..." She wailed pathetically, and Demiurge rolled his eyes and his lip curled in an irritated sneer.

"You will _never_be free. I own you, you foolish girl." Demiurge spat fire. "You begged for a way out, and I gave it to you. I fail to see why you are so damned ungrateful."

"I-I didn't know...I didn't know what I was getting into. I didn't k-know you were a monster!" She sputtered pathetically.

Now THAT was truly amusing. Demiurge laughed heartily.

"_Seriously?_Are you blind or merely unintelligent? How many of your kind did you watch me butcher and skin before you offered yourself into my servitude in exchange for your life?"

This was the second time this month she had attempted to escape. It was getting old, and fast; his patience was running on fumes. If there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was a crying and whining human.

"Is it really so agonizing to clean my quarters daily and pleasure me once in a while?" He scoffed as he hauled her flailing form over the threshold.

She was constantly complaining, never did her duties, and acted as though serving under him was the end of the fucking world. She wouldn't even suck him to completion. He knew he was thick, making it a somewhat taxing task, but it was irritatingly obvious she wasn't trying in earnest, which would be the least she could do considering he let her live.

"I would rather DIE than this be my life! I'm s-so miserable! You're such a bas-"

'Fine.'

The demon violently tore her arm off of her body with one sharp yank. Before she could scream from the pain of being dismembered, in an impossibly fast movement he sank his talons into her throat and twisted and pulled, ripping her vocal cords out with a frustrated snarl.

"Fucking ingrate...you gave terrible blowjobs anyway." He muttered before dragging her body into a nearby thatch of trees and shrubbery for the wolves to pick clean.

---

***8 Months Ago***

"Ew, don't do that!" She chided him, and Demiurge groaned in disappointment as she disengaged from him and squirmed out from under the demon.

"I thought you had an open mind?" He countered, momentarily taken aback by her sudden resistance and the fact that she had ended what he thought was going rather well then and there, leaving him wet, cold and achingly hard.

"I do, but that's...gross! What the Hell is wrong with you?!" The woman scolded the demon.

Demiurge glared at her with barely-restrained rage. The red-haired woman was walking a very, very fine line. Had he not paid so much for her, he would have torn her head off that instant for such a snide remark.

She climbed out of his bed and slipped on a a black satin robe before examining the deep, bruising bite on her shoulder.

Demiurge had bought a high-class prostitute and had been promised she would do anything. The madame of the brothel assured him she had experience with non-human clients, heteromorphics, elves and ogres, and this sealed the deal for him. She was pretty, had a tolerable demeanor and the fact that she wasn't afraid to get in bed with him (which was a first) was extremely propitious; so he went ahead and purchased a lifetime contract.

He was a victim of false advertising, apparently.

"You're telling me you have never been bitten hard enough to bleed?" The Devil sneered with disdain.

She just had to sour the mood, so he was done playing nice.

"I have, but no one actually tried to drink my blood like a goddamn vampire afterwards!" She shrieked, her words riddled with thorns of disgust. "Freak."

"I'm a fucking DEMON." He ground out. "Or did you forget that I paid three times your normal rate for a lifetime contract because I was advised you had experience with non-human clientele? Was I wrong to assume you knew what this would entail?"

She had no argument. No one ever died from having their blood drank by a non-human unless the bite was delivered from an actual vampire.

'Damned waste of money.'

Demiurge sighed in exasperation, at his wits end; he carded his fingers through his dark mane and tried to stifle his burgeoning ire. He would not be shamed and scrutinized for his desires by the whore who was handsomely paid to satiate them.

"Get out." He growled through clenched fangs. "NOW."

The woman huffed and flipped her hair.

"Whatever." She walked out of his quarters and slammed the door behind her.

Had she not inadvertently barricaded herself with the door he would have hurled a fireball at her and burned her hair off that pretty little head.

'Judgmental bitch.'

Demiurge had to finish himself off and it was not satisfying in the least; he somehow ended up feeling emptier and even more furious than before.

"Fuck." His hopes were dashed.

It had been going so well...she had been receptive to his touch and did not seem to mind when he pounded her hard. But his fangs were sharp and he supposed he might have bitten with a little more pressure than he should have.

Was that reason to stop? Maybe.

But to shame his blood lust and call him a freak? That was simply rude.

What kind of whore judges her client's fetishes?

He hastily pulled a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and lit one, taking a deep inhale before exhaling a billowing cloud, trying to soothe his frayed nerves and roiling rage.

This was why he always found his way back into Malphas' arms. Human females were so fragile and finicky.

He finished his cigarette and then stormed out of his quarters. He stalked the hall, his tail swaying angrily and ready to strike as he sought her out, his frame coiled with rage; he was going to give that mouthy bitch a piece of his mind, only to discover that Greed had tore the woman apart as soon as she had tried to step foot off of the 7th Floor.

While he was rather disappointed he didn't have a chance to hear her scream and beg for mercy while he strangled her with his own two hands, Demiurge didn't regret her death in the least, nor did he reprimand his subordinate. He even let Greed keep his choice of meat to chew on (he opted for one of her lovely legs).

She was already dead, so why not?

The Devil collected the rest of her bloody corpse, wrapping it in a spare bed sheet.

'Good riddance.'

The demon hauled her mangled carcass out of the Tomb and flew to E-Rantel, dropping her remains off outside of the brothel with a detailed letter stating how she refused to fulfill his needs and the women there needed more thorough screening as to where their hard limits were drawn, lest they wind up like her.

The Arch Devil was glad he had talked himself into hanging back in the shadows long enough to see the madame's face when she beheld the pile of gore he had left unwrapped at the door.

He had needed a good laugh. And now he needed a stiff drink.

Or two.

Make that five.

---

***5 Months Ago***

"No one leaves until I say." The Arch Devil growled, hastily cutting the human down from the chandelier in his servant's quarters.

He really had to watch this one. She was flighty and unpredictable, and he had come to the grim conclusion that she displayed symptoms of a chemical imbalance of the brain, causing abnormal mood patterns and suicidal tendencies.

If he had to guess, he would assume she suffered from a bipolar or chronic depressive disorder.

'I really know how to pick them, don't I?'

This time she had tried to hang herself with her bed sheets and Demiurge had just happened to check in on her with Distant Vision, and caught her just in the nick of time. He slashed her makeshift noose with his claws and she dropped limply to the floor with a heavy thud.

Her neck wasn't broken but she wasn't breathing, and her heart had stopped.

"I swear, if you die on me..." The demon berated her unconscious body as he restarted her heart manually, and to his relief he heard the organ stutter to life as he brought her back.

She gasped for air and raggedly coughed, and the color returned to her face. He eyes were wild and unfocused, and he could tell that she was slowly regaining her vision. She then screamed and cried in despair when she fully came to, only to see her captor bearing down over her with an angry and despondent expression.

He wanted to strangle her for trying to permanently escape him.

But he didn't. She was damaged in a way he could not fix with reprimands or training. Punishment would have no effect.

He was perplexed in how to handle the situation, which frustrated him. He did not like a problem he could not solve. He _could_react with cruel violence, but he did not feel as though that were the right course of action for this particular human; nor could he scold her for something that was of no fault of her own. To do so would be fruitless, a hollow victory. Demiurge was evil, but not completely unreasonable. His sense of logic often overruled his cruelty.

Alas, it seemed her...condition inadvertently diminished his power over her.

But what was he to do?

She pushed him away, and he huffed, and pursed his lips into a grim line.

'Ungrateful human.'

The demon said nothing, admittedly at a loss for words, but he stripped her bed of sheets and gave her a cow's hide to use as a blanket instead. He also removed all sharp objects and breakable vases and lamps in the morbidly more-than-likely case she did something else drastic.

The demon could have left her with no means to warm herself and let her freeze, but after she had tried to kill herself he decided it would be best to limit the extent of his cruelty.

For now.

'Am I really so terrible to live with?' He wondered and jaw clenched with contemplation; he decided to leave before he made a rash decision and killed yet another one.

Why did none of them simply do as they were told? A few simple chores and tending to his carnal and daily needs...were it really that unbearable that they would rather die?

'Why are humans so difficult?'

Demiurge left her to her own devices and went straight to his brother's home for some much-needed advice...among other things.

Afterwards Demiurge let him in on why he was so frustrated; the elder demon did not seem too surprised his brother's servant tried to commit suicide, but he kindly listened to his troubles without passing verbal judgement and assured him that positive reinforcement was the best method of gaining a pet's trust and compliance. Such a training tactic went against Demiurge's naturally cruel and aggressive behavior, so he was not so keen on trying it, but at this point he had little to lose...besides_another_ pet.

He decided he would at least give it a shot, before she tried to kill herself again. Maybe the situation would improve with a new technique.

When he returned home to Nazarick, he could smell that the air was thick with blood on the 7th Floor. He rushed to her quarters, only to find she had managed to snap a piece of wood off of a shelf when she pushed it over and it broke, and used the sharp edge to saw her wrists open.

He found her, pale and cold, lying lifelessly on her bed. The demon's shoulders sagged and he sighed. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his face.

Demiurge was too late to save her this time.

She left him a note.

Master,

I know I'm not like other people because I'm sad all the time. I'm sorry, I really don't mean to feel that way.

Daddy didn't like it either. I tried to be good, but I don't think he believed I was trying. He said I didn't smile enough and he didn't like that I slept so much. But it was hard to get out of bed when I don't feel okay. I think my soul is sick, and I can only be okay in my dreams. I wasn't like my little sister, who seemed to always be happy and smiled whether it was sunny or raining outside, so he sent me away. I was supposed to get better with new medicine, but I didn't. Something must be really wrong with me.

I'm sorry I wasn't a good girl like you wanted me to be. I tried, I really did. And I'm sorry for leaving such a mess, but now I can dream forever.

Please don't be sad like me. I hope you find someone better. Someone who makes you happy.

Pet

He crumpled up the note and stood in silence for several minutes before he swallowed the growing lump in his throat, and pulled a cigarette out, shakily lighting it.

"Damn it."

Demiurge didn't like to feel.

---

***3 Months Ago***

"What more do you want from me? I've given you a bed to sleep in, the finest clothes, and gourmet meals." Demiurge growled, his voice tight and dangerous. "I ask so little of you."

Again she had tried to ignore and walk away from him, but he caught her forearm in a firm grasp. He minded his claws, but he was so very tired of being shunned by her.

"Don't touch me, you monster! I want you to leave me alone!" The blonde spat. "That's what I want!"

"I've given you everything. I have been kind, polite, and gentle with you..." He sighed and face-palmed. "Why do you recoil from me? I've never hurt you."

Demiurge was beyond frustrated. He had done everything right this time...why was she _still_not receptive to him? He couldn't get near her without her shrieking at him and shrinking away as though he were drenched in Bubonic plague.

"What am I doing wrong?" He was genuinely asking.

Was there something he was missing? Maybe he could fix it. He truly wanted things to be different this time.

"Nothing, I just don't like you!" She snapped, and ripped her arm away from him with a scornful huff.

It had been like this every week for six months, and the demon's patience was stretched gravely thin.

Demiurge had again tried his luck with one of only two prostitutes he had ever located in which their description claimed that they had experience with non-humans. He was cautiously hopeful, and thought maybe his chances would be better this time. He attended the auction with the determination to outbid all, and won rights to a beautiful blonde with cobalt eyes. She was stunning with an hourglass figure, thick golden locks, dainty features and perfectly molded, full lips. She smelled like lilies and the sky after it rained.

But her eyes were what captivated him the most; they reminded him of Malphas, as they were that same shade of calming blue, so he was particularly pleased to have her.

The demon actually stuck to his plan to try to follow Malphas' advice. And it was far more excruciating than he had expected it would be; violence was second nature to him and his first response to anything negative was rage and destruction, and this female had a smart mouth, a spoiled, bratty attitude and fiery temper.

It was a recipe for disaster from the start.

She pushed his buttons like he wouldn't believe. The demon had eventually lost count of how many times he had been a hair's breath away from ripping her throat out for her insolence, and he often had to step away from her and set something on fire just to prevent his sanity from slipping through his fingers like water.

With Herculean effort, Demiurge had maintained his resolve and remained nothing but polite. He was attentive to her needs and tried to be as accommodating and patient with her as possible.

The Arch Devil was smart to keep her isolated on the 7th Floor; had she spoken to any of the other Guardians in such a manner, she'd be a bloody stain on the ground in a matter of seconds.

And yet, despite his honest effort, none of it mattered. She simply couldn't stand the demon. She had been under the impression that a rich MAN, a human had won the auction; she had expected her new Master to be a wealthy land owner or royalty of some sort.

She couldn't have been more disappointed and furious to learn she was now owned by the Commander of Defenses of Nazarick, an Arch Devil.

And as far as she was concerned, he was a monster, plain and simple.

She based her judgement on his inhuman features alone, and that hurt.

She wasn't wrong, but he had kept that darker side of himself hidden from her, and presented himself in way he never had to any human; with utmost courtesy.

Still, she refused to try to get to know him, speak to him, or even look at him.

So the demon tried to interact with her through dreams, and even donned a human appearance; hiding his ears, tail and wings- what made him him, just for her. He thought if he looked like a man, maybe she would be more accepting of his presence. But it did not matter. She knew what he was, and was repulsed nonetheless.

And that...that really hurt.

So he then attempted a rather chaste advance through a dream, hopeful that he might could win her over if she knew how skilled he was, how good he could make her feel if she would only let him, but she still fought him tooth and nail, screaming until her throat bled.

With his pride wounded, Demiurge gave up. He never tried to touch her again. The demon left her alone. If she didn't need him, she could fetch her own meals and clothes and whatever she wanted.

Things only went downhill from there.

Apparently she didn't know how to care for herself, or simply wouldn't out of spite.

She began to psychologically shut down. Over the next few weeks, she stopped eating and speaking to anyone. She no longer performed her daily duties.

This decline made him uneasy. He didn't want a repeat of his last pet.

That incident bothered him far more than he felt it should have. Humans died in his care more often than he cared to admit; it was nothing new.

It took Demiurge a while to understand that it wasn't his last pet's death, but the note she had left that had...done something to him.

How she apologized for being broken, but still selflessly wanted HIM, the monster who shattered her, to be happy.

He didn't know what to do with that. It made him feel something other than familiar hunger, hatred, lust and greed.

It was something alien, something he could _not_fix by eating, killing, or fucking and he did not like it one bit. He did not know how to process whatever it was that she had made him feel.

So he swallowed it down and steeled himself against it.

It was a memory he wished to forget, but it burrowed in deep and latched on with teeth that he couldn't dislodge.

He thought maybe he should discuss it with his brother, as feelings and humanistic emotions were Malphas' forte, but his schedule did not permit for them to meet again yet.

Demiurge knew it was just a matter of time before she ended up like the last one. Airing on the side of caution, he took her bed sheets away just to be sure she would not try to hang herself, and removed all sharp objects from her room. The demon caved, abandoned his pride and began to bring her food again, but he always returned to find it untouched.

Still, she grew more and more withdrawn.

One day she walked into his quarters as he was drinking his afternoon tea and perusing over a scroll, and she looked at him shyly. She opened her mouth to speak, but then hesitated; and for a brief moment, he had a glimmer of hope. He did not push her into spitting it out, and he waited patiently for her apology...instead she proceeded to spew a line of vile curses and insults aimed at Lord Ainz.

That was it. Demiurge snapped.

The Arch Devil slammed her into the nearest wall, clamping his fangs over her throat and tore out her jugular, and then plunged his talons into her abdominal cavity, tearing her open. Her body twitched beneath him as he weaved his fingers between her ivory ribs gripping slippery bone to rip her rib cage apart with a sickening crack. He plunged his gloved hand into her chest and with the snapping of arteries, tore out her quivering heart. He devoured the still warm organ, hot blood seeping between his fangs as stringy veins stuck to his tongue.

And he had never felt so good and yet so fucking terrible to be himself.

'I am a monster.'

He decided from then on, he would never again conceal his true nature from anyone.

---