Two poor damned young men, a demoness, and a host of others now engroused in the most lurid ways of sin that a demon would make a person do, all were about to come to terms with life.
"RINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!" rang out some loud bell. Those entwined in passion did not even break their pace to listen let alone understand why this bell continued to ring. Lysaila too, had no understanding of this and only considered it as a thing to bother her lusty ways.
The halls were quickly filled with people in a hurry as inside the professor's study and a broom closet the sodomy continued at a fevered pace. It wasn't until Lysaila noticed the faint smell of smoke that she raised her head and gave a wonder.
Her memories of sulphur smoke and brimstone made the scent of earthly smoke almost a pleasured experience, yet it was odd she she note it there and then.
All with her suddenly were marked with terror as a thunderous crash rattled the entire building. Les looked up a bleating to his passioned lover to stop the humping and listen.
Yet Alan was too far gone from thinking in any human terms and only tightened his grip on the nanny goat he was busy finding as great pleasure.
Another huge sound and many came to realize the building was on fire!
The professor's door to his study was flung open with satyress and billy goats all ready to make flight from the burning building. Alan was far to thrilled to let his cute mate go and they stood mating as the others fled.
From deep below the building in the boiler room came a flash and with it one roaring blast which cut through steel beams and concrete. As this gas and steam explosion ripped apart the building those trying to get out were instantly snuffed away from life itself.
A short bleat of passioned thrill from Alan was mixed with a worried scream from his nanny as what they were was torn to bits by the blast.
All, all living flesh was mixed into the blast as those who were infected by Lysaila were instantly destroyed. It was by her own rotten self that Lysaila being mostly a spirit in form was for herself tossed into the next county, her, the tome of possibility, went to a new place to begin again.