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His cock began to hit against new places, swelling to fill me from the inside.

His fangs became longer, sharper than I’ve ever seen.

And then the dark wings sprouted from his back, large, wide, terrible wings with claws at the end, like the very illustrations of the Devil.

He became the monster.

“Let us prey.”

And the monster is still inside me.

He puts his head back and roars, the dark leathery skin spreading across his chest, wrapping over him. He raises his hands to the ceiling in a last-minute prayer of salvation or in a threat, and giant claws, far larger than mine, come shooting out of his hands.

You should have listened to me, his words ring through my head. He had told me to get away, to go and leave, but I thought he wanted time alone to talk to God.

I don’t think God heard him.

While his back is arched and he’s writhing with his transformation, I pull out from under him, glancing at his cock, which is far larger, longer, and harder than humanly possible, dark and covered in our cum.

He lets out a moan, and I take the opportunity to try to run.

But he grabs me by the legs, claws digging in, and tries to bring me to him.

I scream, but it dies in my throat, and then I’m ripping out of his grip, his claws slicing strips off the backs of my calves. The agony is acute, strangling me, and I collapse to the ground, knocking down a stand holding a burning candle.

The candle falls, the flames catching the edge of the altar cloth. I manage to get to my feet, pulling myself up by the rest of the cloth until it pools at my feet, my blood gushing, staining the white cloth red.

The monster tackles me from the side, and I’m slammed into the wall, my ribs breaking. A red oil lamp above us falls, and I manage to duck under his chest, rolling out of the way as the oil falls on the monster and the floor below.

My chest feels like it’s caving in, but I can’t give in to my injuries, can’t give in to my pain. I have to put that aside, have to focus on staying alive. The flames from the altar cloth have now found the oil, and everything goes up in a whoosh of fire. The beast steps away from the fire before it has time to catch on him, but it’s already licking up the walls, burning hot and fast, and the church starts filling with smoke.

I manage to get to my feet and run, but my legs scream with pain, and I’m stumbling on my knees in the middle of the aisle.

The monster lets out a roar, and I twist around to see him fly toward me. He’s flying like a damned bat, giant wings flapping as he moves a few feet off the ground, but all it does is fan the flames, making the fire spread. It catches on the pews, burns the crosses, the tapestries, and by the time I push myself back up on my knees, the entire church is on fire.

He nearly catches me again, but then a burning rafter falls from above, landing on the monster’s back. An inhuman cry is torn from his throat as the fire catches on his wings, and he falls on all fours, embers floating in the air toward me.

He starts crawling toward me, shaking off the burning rafter, and I know he’s the Devil coming for me, straight out of hell.

Then, he looks up and past me, red pupils contracting, and I hear cries for help.

I turn around to see a group of people standing in the doorway of the church: two soldiers, two other men, and a woman.

“It’s the Devil!” the woman yells while one of the soldiers runs toward me. I flinch, afraid of him, but he grabs me by my arms and hoists me to my feet.

“She’s on fire!” he cries out.

I glance down at the hem of my shift, surprised to see flames there. Some of the oil from the lamp must have splashed onto me.

“She’s bleeding,” the woman says. “Her legs, her legs!”

The soldier picks me up in his arms and runs outside of the flaming church, followed by the woman, while the others stay inside. I hear screaming, and I don’t know if it’s from the monster or the men, but I feel myself starting to lose consciousness. The rain has stopped, and I stare up at the sky, watching as the moon comes out from a cloud.

“Put her in the ocean!” the woman yells.

It takes me a moment to register what she’s saying.

“No,” I cry out, trying to escape from the man’s arms, but I’m too weak, and it’s too late.