Famine's district was a study in contrasts and shrouded in an endless night. The nobility flaunted their wealth and abundance before the emaciated and deprived inhabitants whenever they sallied forth from their palatial homes to freely enjoy a near consequence free evening of debauchery and entertainment. By Limos' decree, War's enforcers only maintained a minor presence here. Security, instead, was left in the hands of criminal networks whose greed and brutality further oppressed the populace. Either you joined for protection and were drafted into the turf wars or became a mark to be exploited. During their sleep, predation by Succubi, Incubi, Vampires, the equine Nightmares, and others left both the demons and humans drained before the next day of drudgery had even begun.
Erra had been prepared that arranging a rendezvous alone with Jiha between the socialite's parties and soirees would've been a daunting prospect and take days instead of hours. The plague demon had to credit Zhang for her insistence when she made her request as she descended from her carriage onto the inner courtyard of one of her estates. Again the rubber woman regretted she couldn't smile, but the leather-bound servant girl greeting seemed to have sensed her amusement and flinched away, her gaze buried in the ground in the hopes of avoiding notice.
Her terror increased when Erra languidly lifted a hand, shivering as she tried to suppress her instinct to recoil and hide from... the demoness couldn't be sure of what when she noticed and stayed her hand. A thin stream of toxic smoke escaped through her filter. Such novel and powerful fear intrigued Erra – one of her test subjects would've been, uselessly, pleading with her for mercy. Despite everything else, the maid's deference to an honored guest was the stronger emotion and she would've endured whatever she expected Erra had planned. However, the plague demon was satisfied with waiting for the human and inspecting her quivering gesture as she practically begged rather than asked for her to follow to meet her mistress.
"Lady Pestilence, please, th-this way. W-we shouldn't keep Lady Famine waiting."
As the carriage began rattling behind them, they also left the fetid garden. All of its plants had been withered husks and bore rotting fruit or berries, except for the black roses who parasitically fed on their neighboring plants. The scent reminded the Plague demon of her home. She'd have to remember to ask for a sapling to conduct experiments with.
In the corner of her lenses, Erra noticed shadowy figures scurrying past them through the side corridors. Likely other servants who decided the best way to survive was to stay out of sight. It contributed to the oppressive loneliness and haunting feeling created by the fading paintings depicting gruesome scenes and the wallpaper that seemed ready to fall from the walls if not for the cobwebs. Underneath the frayed mats, the floorboards creaked despite the efforts of the servant as she walked with her ballet boots. The young human woman was nervously glancing at the closed doors and breathed a barely perceptible sigh when they passed them without incident.
Inspired by the maid's boots, Erra shifted the creaking latex of her platform heels, extending the back until gave the false appearance she had to balance on her toes to walk. Her posture felt straighter, but otherwise not too much of a difference the demoness noted and pointedly ignored the servant and her flitting eyes as they searched for anyone that could've heard the noise and taken offense. Every step they took toward their destination deepened the maid's concern and her behavior became more erratic and twitchy.
Everything was brought to an edge when they entered a drawing room. The furniture, if Erra could even call them that, were clad entirely in glossy and supple rubber. The latex demoness hardly needed her understanding of human anatomy to see the bones and limbs of the individual human pieces were broken and rearranged with magic before allowed to heal so they better could fulfill their roles as tables, lounge chaise, and other pieces of furniture. Where living humans couldn't fill a role, like with small cabinet drawers, bleached bone invariably took their place. There was an artistic quality to them, none were quite alike the other. A little like her test subjects.
Absolutely taken with their desgin, Erra ran a finger along one of the chairs, transitioning from the rib cage, the white bones opened wide enough to comfortably lean your back against the spine, to the human seat it was attached too. A shiver ran through the demoness as she heard its pained moans, the chair no longer earning the distinction of personhood. Pain were so often a consequence of her operations, but here the melodic rise and fall of its voice as it endured its suffering was the end rather than the means. Hearing it from a distance in her father's fortress couldn't compare.
Jahi plucked a few strings on her harp, effortlessly harmonizing the moan with her chosen notes that rang with a deep and full sound through the drawing room. At first glance, the elegant instrument looked as if to have shaped from a single piece of bone, but more likely meshed and fused together from what had to be countless, and unwilling, donors. The latex demoness didn't need to guess the material of the strings to know what their original components were. "Did my worthless maid please you?" The lone notes were strung together into a melody, at first basic then increasingly complex as the composer found the underlying lyric and layered on the strumming of her scaled and clawed fingers.
The panic was palpable behind Erra as the demoness reclined in a sofa, allowing the question to the fill the space together with the quiet cries and shifting melody. Not because she didn't know the answer, but because she wanted her to hang in a torturous limbo a few seconds longer. Tasting her fear as she did. Jahi worked her furniture's agony in beautifully, transitioning as if she had always meant to do so at this stage in the verse. The green points of light in the Plague demon's lenses faded as she simply listened. "Her presence was enlightening."
"A pity. Her flayed skin would've made such a beautiful canvas for my paintings. Mother insists I need more practice." The maid took the casual and sadistic utterance from her cruel mistress as her permission to retreat. "Once she had proved herself again, I might have replaced her lost skin with either leather or latex. " She continued before ending the melody and leaned briefly against her instrument before rising.
Tall didn't begin to describe the demonic woman's whose fanged smile Erra expected to split apart so Jiha could swallow her whole. But she was also thin, and her serpentine features and grace inherited from her father had become more pronounced against her gaunt frame as she settled into her role as Famine's heir. While she remained recognizably human, nothing approaching humanity was reflected in her soulless reptilian eyes. They had all lost something of their previous selves during the transformation into demons, but nothing quite so utterly as the monster Jiha had become. Erra was one already.
"Your assistant told me what to expect." Jiha slithered into the human rubber seat next to her cousin, fingers lightly tapping against the latex as they made their way up her shoulder. "Do you desire to submit to me, Erra?" Long digits coiled around the rubber demon's throat and hoses and tipped her neck so she her gasmask' lenses directly looked into the woman's dazzling emerald eyes. Squeezing and tightening her grip, Jiha cut off the supply of toxic gas, and Erra came as close to choking and struggling to breathe as her inanimate form allowed. The latex demoness entire being was focused around her throat, nothing else existed except for the all-encompassing pressure. "Or to hold the whip and make your slaves beg for your love."
Erra released a shuddering groan as the hold suddenly disappeared, unsure of both how and when it had.
"Don't worry, finding an answer takes time." The serpent's voice as she loomed over the demoness sounded kind and compassionate, and her caress was equally gentle. "We can explore, slowly, and at your pace. You're not like those pitiful insects that serve me. Everything we do will be under your control." Jiha's hiss reverberated through the rubber into Erra's core and for a second, she belived everything she said. Before she had a chance to agree, the demoness gasped as the dominatrix cupped one of her poison-filled breasts. "Mind if I drink? Some of us still need to eat. Yet no matter how much I consume, I'm always hungry."