The Goddess of Death

"The fuck...?" Stinker muttered, his surprise evident as he turned to see the man standing beside him, devoid of any emotions or reactions.

The woman, completely absorbed in the pleasure she was experiencing, remained oblivious to the newcomer's presence, unable to tear her gaze away from the intense moment.

"What are you looking at, you creep? Haven't you ever seen a man and woman engaging in an pluck-pluck activities?" he snapped, his voice filled with a mixture of defiance and arousal.

The man remained silent, his stare fixed upon them.

The presence of the watching man made the other man incredibly uncomfortable. The feeling of being observed while engaged in such intimate activities was enough to disrupt his rhythm and dampen his desire.

He can't even pee when someone was standing near him, let alone when he's fucking someone.

He stopped his rhythmic movements and nervously looked at the man, a mix of nervousness and frustration evident on his face.

"What are you looking at, you creep? Don't make me come over there," he warned,

The man continued to remain silent, his gaze fixed upon them, his intentions and emotions unknown.

"Fine, if you won't say anything, then consider this your warning. If you don't leave now, I'm going to knock your teeth out," he declared.

The continued silence from the watching man only heightened the sense of unease within the other man. Something about the newcomer's demeanor felt off, as if he was completely unaffected by the sight of a partially exposed woman or the act of lovemaking.

In all his experiences, he had never encountered a man who remained so composed in the presence of such intimacy. It was a perplexing and unsettling sight for him.

"Oi, don't make me do something I'll regret," he warned, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and a growing sense of aggression.

The woman's attention was finally drawn to the watching man, and she gasped, hurriedly covering her exposed breasts with her hands.

"Bo-Bonnie?" she stammered, her voice filled with surprise and uncertainty as she stared at the man.

"Ya know her?" the man questioned, his curiosity piqued by the woman's reaction.

Instead of providing a direct response, the woman simply began to back away slowly, her behavior becoming increasingly peculiar.

Confusion washed over the man as he observed her strange actions. "What is it?" he inquired, desperately seeking an explanation for her sudden change in demeanor.

"He's my husband's bodyguard," she finally revealed.

"Oh? That's it. Let me finish this for ya," the man declared, cracking his fingers with a determined resolve.

Growing up in the slums and enduring the harsh realities of this unforgiving world had shaped him into a fighter, someone who knew the streets and how to survive.

Underground fights had become his domain, and he had emerged victorious from numerous battles.

"Ready for a meal?" he grinned, anticipation evident in his eyes as he lunged at the watching man, fully prepared to engage in a physical confrontation.

However, in an instant, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the air, shattering the tension-filled atmosphere.

He collapsed to the ground, gasping and screaming in agony, his hands clutching his now obliterated crotch.

The bullet had inflicted a devastating blow, leaving him in excruciating pain and unable to continue his aggressive pursuit.

He was gasping for some semblance to return to him, to be able to feel his little brother once more.

Meanwhile, the man in glasses approached the woman, who was now clutching her mouth tightly to stifle any potential screams. The atmosphere became even more tense as he spoke, delivering a chilling message.

"Dillion Murphy has sent his regards," he announced, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. With a swift motion, he raised his gun and fired two shots, both bullets finding their mark in the woman's exposed breasts, causing immense pain and further escalating the violence of the scene.

And she was down. Dead and gone.

The sunglass-wearing man approached the man, his gun raised once again, this time aiming directly at his head.

With an air of cold detachment, he pulled the trigger without uttering a single word.

The life of the once proud and resilient individual, forged in the crucible of the slums, was abruptly extinguished.

...

A single flicker of consciousness floated within a brilliantly illuminated space, devoid of any discernible light sources. It existed in multiple places simultaneously, defying spatial limitations.

In this ethereal realm, a presence could be felt—a figure who radiated excitement and anticipation. Her voice echoed singularly and yet seemed to come from different directions at once.

"Open your eyes, child," she urged, her words carrying a sense of both guidance and mystery.

The tiny speck of consciousness obeyed, fluttering its eyes open, momentarily overwhelmed by the intense brightness. However, it quickly adapted to the situation, adjusting to the luminous environment that surrounded it.

The tiny speck of consciousness found itself in a puzzling situation. It wanted to ask, "Where am I?" but without a mouth, the words remained unspoken. It reached out, only to realize it had no arms to touch or feel.

In a state of confusion and panic, it exclaimed, 'What is happening?!' It thought.

"Calm down, my child," a sultry voice whispered, capturing the attention of the tiny speck. As it turned, a stunning woman appeared before it, seated on a throne.

Her presence exuded confidence and sensuality, with her head resting on her arm, propped up by the armrest.

Her fiery red hair cascaded down, framing a face adorned with piercing blue eyes that held an intoxicating gaze. Her flawless, porcelain skin added to her allure and seductive charm.

She possessed a mesmerizing figure, standing at a height of 8 or 9 meters. Clad in a form-fitting black gown, it accentuated her voluptuous curves, drawing attention to her ample bosom and enticing cleavage.

The tantalizing split ends of the gown seductively showcased her long, shapely legs and alluring thighs.

The woman seemed to catch the speck's lingering gaze, and a mischievous smile curved upon her lips. "Even in death, you've your priorities, don't you," she remarked, her tone laced with a mix of amusement and allure.

The thought that crossed the speck's mind when beholding her was a primal one: "Mommy." It was an instinctual response.

Her laughter echoed through the space, a symphony of beauty that stirred something within the speck.

It felt an inexplicable flutter in its heart.

"You died, kiddo," the woman said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

The speck scratched its head, utterly perplexed. "I... died?" it questioned, its voice filled with disbelief.

Then, like a lightbulb flickering to life, the speck's memory kicked in. It remembered its final moments.

"My... my little dragon," the speck exclaimed, dramatically reaching out its hand, only to realize it had no hand to reach out with.

"I was just doing my regular check-up on Earth when my eyes caught your attention," the woman explained, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"The way you made that uptight woman succumb to pleasure was downright hilarious. And your valiant attempt to protect that little dragon of yours, even in death, was something I'll never forget. That's why I chose you."

The tiny speck of consciousness was taken aback by her words. "Chose me for what?" it asked, curiosity mingled with a touch of apprehension.

A playful smile danced on the woman's lips as she leaned closer. "Tell me, child," she inquired, her voice laced with intrigue. "Would you be more entertained if I transmigrated you? Would you heed my words and carry out my biddings?"

He immediately nodded, "YES! Of course!" he didn't need to think about it at all.

The woman smiled, "Good."

'If I could fuck you too, then that would be a bonus too.' He thought to himself.

The woman again laughed, "You would have to be an immortal to even touch me, child, let alone court me," she replied, a hint of teasing in her voice. "Come back to me when you can ascend to this realm without breaking your body, then and only then, I shall entertain your request."

He was scared at first but then he had hope, "Who are you? What is this place?"

The woman smiled, "This is the void, between the mortal realm and the immortal realm. I am what you call the Goddess of Death, some call me the Dark Mistress. I'm whatever you want me to become."

The Goddess of Death gestured with her hands, and a peculiar object began to form between them. It was a large mirror, shimmering with black and purple colors.

As it took shape, the speck couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about it. There was a strange energy emanating from the mirror, giving it an eerie and powerful aura.

'Magic.'

"That is correct. It is magic, an ancient art that created the realms of the living and the dead. Mortals have many theories about it, and some can even tap into its power for their own benefit. But for now, it's best not to worry about it. You will learn more in due time."

She paused, giving the speck a moment to grasp the situation.

"Through that portal, you can enter a new world. Not physically, but with your soul and mind intact. You will be randomly transferred into the body of a wealthy or poor individual. The power to choose lies beyond my control."

"What do you get out of this? Why are you letting me rejuvenate?" the speck asked, its years in the slums having taught it not to trust anything offered for free out of goodwill.

The woman's smile widened, exuding an air of intrigue. "Because you interest me," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of mystery and amusement.

"That's a weak statement. There are millions of married women being boned by everything with a dick in between their legs, and you chose...me. Please, I may be lust after some married pussies but I'm not that stupid."

He puffed up his imaginary chest.

"Says the man who had his ball splintered to a hole."

She smiled when she saw him deflate. Then she sighed.

"Alright, how about this? I'll tell you my reason if you become a king in the new world."

'King? King? A fuckin' King?!'

He was about to say something but she wasn't done speaking.

"Now, all your questions and doubts will be cleared once you're in the world. Just get on with it, I don't have all the time in the realm for you," the woman replied, crossing her arms in a display of impatience.

As she crossed her arms, the movement caused her breasts to jiggle enticingly, their alluring curves almost beguiling the speck to suckle on them.

He shook his head and floated over to the portal, "Very well, goddess. Let me see what can I do there. Wish me good luck."

He gulped and moved closer to the black and purple portal.

"Remember, whatever you do, do not associate with anyone from the Church of Light."

She warned him.

"Why?"

"I'm the Goddess of death, and the God of light is my opposite. That's all I can say for now. Go on and be the king, then I shall reveal the truth."

With a raised hand, the woman pointed directly at the speck, a dark light forming on her fingertip. In an instant, the light shot forward, striking the speck.

Expecting some significant reaction, the speck was surprised when nothing seemed to happen at first.

But suddenly, as if provoked by the energy of the portal, tendrils of black and purple emerged from its depths.

With a sinister force, they extended towards the speck, clawing at its tiny form and gripping it tightly.

The tendrils relentlessly pulled the speck into the portal, dragging it into a new and unknown world.

The last thing he heard from the goddess was, "Farewell, my child. Until we meet again."

Then he was gone.

The void was empty once again.