Asrael knew this place- better than anyone. However, he could not remember ever having set his foot in those decrepit halls of broken, marbled tiles and the cracked, crushed pillars. It appeared the same as it always had, with its endlessly distant ceiling and the vines growing from the dirt beneath the overturned, collapsed blocks of granite. He did not know where he was but was fairly certain that his physical body had remained on the bed, where it had sat a moment previously.

In between the four columns, heavy, green chains wrapped around the tall form of a shape he would never forget- that Lita would never forget. He could tell that he was back in her body- the fleshmenders could only do so much to still the chronic pains of her adhered vagina and abdominal cavity... his own body had not stepped into the deteriorating halls in some time.

Lita’s deep, blue eyes followed the chains up to the impossibly tall form to see them wrap around the beast’s ankles and wrists- securing it in place with magic the likes of which any currently living human had never seen. Lita- as with the rest of Humanity, had never seen a Demon in the flesh but had naturally heard the stories. This one had suffered from something- as was apparent from its broken hooves, the legs, stomach, and chest- all of which missed great strips of flesh to bare its still organs... but most amazing of all its features were those green, intensively glowing eyes staring down at her from above its grin. To Asrael’s relief, he realized that he was not looking at the Satyr, but rather, a frozen memory- an image of the beast.

Lita’s voice spoke into his mind; “I had died in Capita and spent years in the Inquisition’s service- hunting our own as naught but a shell of a magus- of a human... but then... I found you.” Asrael kept staring up at the half jaw of bared teeth- hoping to remember where he had first seen the beast and heard those damnable chains.

Lita continued: “I saw your pain- that power... and Azazeel showed me so much more. He did so much more.”

Asrael opened his eyes. He was back in the bed- laying on his back- staring up at Lita who sat on her knees next to him, holding his cold hand in between her own. The constant shift between her consciousness and the physical room was beginning to affect his paranoia- scrambling his impression of reality. To his dismay, Lita shone a hopeful smile at him from where she sat and cradled his hand. Her green eyes were oddly human in comparison to all he had seen from her before- the long, white hair hung down over her forehead to tickle his palm... for a moment, he entirely forgot how she had tormented him- how terrified he had been of the girl.

She raised her free hand to move a tendril of her hair beyond her ear and said: “A Demon is more powerful than any Man- capable of undoing the monstrosities of us lowly humans... a boon for a service. And for finding you, he gave me my boon.” He remained there- on his back, paralyzed by her beauty and the return of a genuine smile- the first, he assumed, in years. He jerked his hand back as she began to lead his hand down to her supple abdomen, but her insistent hands overpowered his weakly resistance. Truthfully, he had come too far to end his exploration- his investigtion into the mystery that was Lita.

Their hands continued together- down her robe, to her naked foot, where their entwined hands slid across her soft, warm skin until-… she giggled at his expression of shock, awe, disgust, and terror. There- amid her scant bush of pubic hair, he could feel a pair of uncooked, unscarred labia- intact and capable. Had it been another one of her tricks? Had it all been naught but an illusion? No- surely- it had to be real, he had felt it for himself... but how, then-

“He undid their damage. You gave me back the humanity they had stolen away from me- you not only breathed new life into my lungs... you made me feel hope again.” He was too paralyzed with the fear of molesting this woman to convey anything other than an open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock, but curiously... she seemed not to mind his cold fingers. She had ample fluids ready to warm him, which raised the question...

“I’ve listened to your tale, but I am none the wiser as to what you want from me. You claim that I have done something to heal you, but I’ve done nothing save run from you. If you wish to thank anyone for-… whatever this is, then thank that unholy fiend of yours!” Lita sat up on her fours and pressed Asrael’s cold hand against her groin before leaning over towards his supine body and resting her head right above his. In a forest of her wild, white hair, he stared up into her green, cursed eyes. To say that she was a beauty beyond words would still not do her justice- her pallor and the luscious red lips- the touch of the genitalia was threatening to deprive Asrael of his carefully cultivated control... and she could sense it.

“The two of you are indivisible, Asrael. I have but one, last secret to tell you, but first, I must ask of you a service- I cannot grant you his boon, lest you do Him and me this service.” Her- and his- eager hands made it clear what the nature of this service would be... It took all his might to resist her, but eventually, he retracted his hand and lay his unsullied hand at her cheek to plead:

“For the last time... I am dead. What you want from me is not mine to give.” Again, she merely giggled. She raised her knees to either side of Asrael’s hips and gripped the bed on either side of his shoulders. Next, she grabbed her robe and began sliding it over her head as she spoke:

“You will have no guilt. In truth, you cannot resist- Azazeel has sought to it, though I wish there was another way... Please- do not consider this a Sin...” He forced his eyes shut as she threw the robe to the floor. He was not powerless- he could stretch his arm out and slap her away, but-… still... he allowed her to reach behind her back and fumble with his pants. Why could he do nothing? This was not her spell- this was something else- something he could not voice, nor could he even think of words to describe the overwhelming sensations scorching away his every other emotion save lust. Her lavender scent- her thin, pale, beautiful form and those shapely breasts... that blissful, joyous, proud smile she had last worn as an innocent child. She leaned down to lay her finger atop his lip and spoke:

“I have found my Champion of Justice. And although I wish above all you would allow yourself to love me, I cannot stomach the guilt you would feel whenever you look at her... so please, Asrael. Forgive me for taking His service.”

“No, wait-” Before he could finish his protest, Lita had lowered herself down unto his face and bored her deep, green eyes into his, and with a warm, soft, wet kiss, he was whisked away to a restful slumber- safe in the arms of the Psychomancer he had feared for so long.