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Chapter 18: The Day of Destruction R-18]
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 17:05:13 +0000 UTCI don't know what's going on.
I dropped the magazine in my hand as I noticed the bright red light streaking across the sky. The sight was so beautiful that I found myself unable to look away.
My heart thumped.
For some reason, the blood inside me began to boil.
The earth shook.
My house was full of screams as my parents began running about.
I too was dragged out of the house for safety.
For some reason, I could tell this wasn't an earthquake.
People around us were all equally frightened and confused. Usually, I'd take advantage of the fact that so many women were in their nightgowns, running around with their big oppai’s…
My mind refused.
But in the end, I found it hard to suppress my desires.
I smiled in enjoyment.
The sexy married women hugging their partners or children had their breasts all squeezed together making a pleasant sight for me.
“Issei! Issei!”
My name was called out and I looked at my panicking Mom.
I was fine, okay?
The shaking began to die down and everyone was slowly calming down, walking back into their houses.
A bummer.
“That was so scary!” Mom said and Dad nodded as we headed back inside.
The moment we stepped back inside, the air changed.
A sharp, metallic scent hit my nose—something wrong
What?
Before I could even react, the front door exploded inward, shards of wood spraying like shrapnel. I barely had time to raise my arms before a force like a freight train slammed into me, sending me crashing into the wall.
My vision swam. Pain flared across my back, but worse than that was the sound—screaming.
Mom.
I forced my head up, blinking through the dust and debris. Two figures stood in the wreckage of our home. Tall, clad in black, their eyes glowed a sickly violet in the dim light. Devils. Real ones. Not the kind from TV or games.
One of them had my father by the throat, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Dad’s face was purple, his feet kicking uselessly. His eyes locked onto mine—wide, terrified, begging.
The other Devil had Mom pinned to the floor, her nightgown torn, her face streaked with tears. She was sobbing, struggling, but the Devil just laughed, a sound like nails on glass.
"P-Please—!" Mom choked out.
The Devil grinned, his fingers trailing down her cheek.
Something inside me snapped.
"STOP IT!" I roared, lurching forward—but the first Devil backhanded me without even looking. My head whipped to the side, blood filling my mouth. I hit the ground hard, my body refusing to move.
"Pathetic," the Devil holding my father sneered.
Dad’s eyes rolled back.
A sickening crack.
His body went limp.
The Devil dropped him like trash.
My breath stopped. My heart stopped. The world stopped.
No.
No no no no—
I didn’t even realize I was screaming until my throat burned. Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t move.
The Devils turned to me.
One of them grabbed my hair, yanking me up until our faces were inches apart. His breath reeked.
"Don’t worry, boy," he murmured. "You’ll join them soon."
And then—
Pain.
Agony like I’d never known. Like my bones were breaking, my skin peeling, my soul tearing.
But worse than the pain was the sound of Mom’s
whimpers.
The sight of my father’s empty eyes.
And the laughter of the Devils as they tormented us.
If that wasn't enough one of them walked towards Mom.
The moment the second Devil's fingers curled around Mom's wrist, the air turned thick with something wrong.
Not blood.
Not violence.
Something worse.
A slow, creeping intimacy that made my skin crawl.
He pulled her close, his breath hot against her ear, whispering words I couldn't hear—but I saw the way her body stiffened, the way her breath hitched
No!
I tried to scream, but the first Devil's hand clamped over my mouth, his other arm keeping me in place
"Shhh," he murmured. "You don't want to miss this."
The second Devil's hands moved.
Not with violence.
With lust.
One palm slid up her thigh, pushing the torn hem of her nightgown higher, inch by inch, like he was savoring the reveal. His other hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip—gentle, almost loving—before his fingers slipped inside her mouth.
She gagged.
He smiled.
And then—
He pulled her forward, forcing her onto his lap, her back pressed flush against his chest. His hands roamed freely now, groping, squeezing, mapping every curve like he was memorizing her.
I thrashed, but the Devil holding me just tightened his grip, "Look," he breathed.
I didn't want to.
But I couldn't stop.
The second Devil's fingers dipped beneath her underwear, his touch leisurely, like he had all the time in the world.
Mom whimpered.
A broken, pleading sound.
It didn't stop him.
His fingers pushed inside her.
Her whole body jolted, her nails digging into his arms, but he just shushed her, nuzzling her neck like a lover as his fingers worked, slow and methodical.
"See how wet she is?" he cooed, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Even now, her body betrays her."
Mom shook, her face streaked with tears, but her hips twitched—
No.
Not like that.
Not—
The Devil chuckled, his fingers curling just so, and a choked, shamed noise escaped her lips.
My vision blurred.
No.
She wouldn't.
She couldn't—
But her legs trembled, her thighs pressing together—not to stop him, but to—
Oh God.
The Devil holding me laughed, his breath ragged in my ear.
"Disgusting, isn't it?" he whispered. "Even like this, she responds."
I wanted to vomit.
No.
No no no—
This can't be true.
The second Devil lifted Mom, positioning her over his lap like a doll, her legs splayed, her body exposed.
And then—
He entered her.
Not violently.
Not with a thrust.
Slow.
So slow.
He pushed it inside her.
Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, her fingers clawing at his arms, but he just held her there, letting her feel every inch as he filled her.
Mom shook, her face streaked with tears, but her hips twitched—
The Devil holding me was aroused, his eyes looking towards my Mom with desire.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Look at her face."
I didn't want to.
But I did.
Mom's eyes were wide, her lips parted in something between pain and—
No.
Not that.
Not—
The second Devil groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he rolled his own, grinding into her with a lazy rhythm, like he was savoring every twitch of her body.
Her breath came in hitches.
Her thighs quivered.
And then—
A sound.
A whimper.
But not of pain.
Not just pain.
The Devil smirked, digging into her flesh as he pulled her down harder, deeper, his pace never faltering.
"Good girl," he murmured.
And Mom—
Mom—
Came.
Her body locked up, her back arching, her mouth falling open in a silent cry—
And the Devil laughed, kissing her neck like she'd pleased him.
Something inside me snapped.
Not anger.
Not hate.
Nothing.
Just—
Emptiness.
The first Devil finally released me, shoving me forward onto the floor.
I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, just stared as the second Devil ripped Mom off him, her body all loose and drenched, shaking like a wet dog.
He chucked her down like she was garbage, and she crashed to the floor, legs flopping wide, arms limp.
She didn’t move, didn’t fight, just laid there, a doll they’d chewed up and spit out.
The first Devil swung his boot into my stomach, hard, and I went down, smacking the carpet face-first.
My guts twisted, air gone, pain shooting everywhere, but it was nothing next to the ache in my head.
He didn’t care, stomped over me and went for Mom, grinning like some sick bastard who’d won a prize.
They both crowded her, two demons, hands grabbing at her like she was meat on a hook.
Her nightgown was a mess, soaked with sweat, sticking to her skin, half-torn so her chest peeked out, red and raw.
His fingers dug into her thighs, prying them apart, nails leaving angry red lines on her soft skin.
The second Devil shoved her legs apart and dropped between her legs, heavy, his hips shoving forward, pressing into her so hard the table creaked under them.
She jolted a little, a tiny whimper slipping out, and he laughed, low and nasty, liking it too much.
The first one grabbed her wrists, jerking them up over her head, pinning her down so she couldn’t move an inch.
He leaned down, mouth on her neck, sucking hard, leaving red marks.
Her body rocked under them, bouncing with each push, skin slapping skin in a way that made me sick.
I clawed at the floor, nails ripping, blood smearing, my chest heaving with sobs I couldn’t stop.
The second guy rocked harder, hips slamming, his hands sliding up her sides, squeezing her ribs till she whimpered
Mom’s head lolled to the side, hair sticking to her wet face, lips trembling with little gasps.
The first one moved lower, his breath hot on her chest, teeth grazing her skin, making her flinch.
They were all over her, taking turns, hips grinding, hands roaming, like she was theirs to break.
I yelled, voice cracking, but it came out weak, a pathetic croak drowned by their grunting.
The carpet was wet under me—tears, spit, snot—I was a mess, falling apart watching this.
Mom’s legs twitched, caught in their grip, her body shaking like it couldn’t take much more.
He leaned in again, lips on her ear, whispering something sick, then biting the lobe till she flinched hard.
Her skin was flushed now, sweaty and red, trembling where they touched her, where they wouldn’t stop touching.
The second Devil’s hands slid back down, under her, grabbing her ass, lifting her up so he could go deeper.
She cried out again, sharper, her voice breaking, and he just kept going, relentless, grunting with every move.
I punched the ground, knuckles splitting, blood dripping, but it didn’t change a damn thing.
Mom’s chest heaved, quick and shallow, her skin flushed red where they grabbed her.
The second guy wiped his mouth, smirking, then went back in, tugging at her like a rag.
They didn’t stop—kept pushing, pulling, grinding, a nonstop nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
Her fingers twitched once, reaching for nothing, then went still, limp as the rest of her.
I was choking now, throat raw, eyes burning, hating myself for just lying here.
I want to help her! I want to save her! Why! Why can't I save her? Why am I so powerless!?
The first one switched spots, shoving the other aside, eager to get his turn, his pants tight and straining.
He grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide, and pressed himself against her, slow at first, teasing, then hard.
Her body rocked with it, head still lolling, hair still sticking to her wet cheeks, lips still parting with little gasps.
The second one didn’t wait—knelt by her head, hands in her hair, pulling her face toward him, forcing her to look.
He rubbed against her cheek, hot and heavy, smirking as she tried to turn away, but he held her tight. Her mouth was abused and Mom’s hands twitched, fingers curling, but she couldn’t fight, couldn’t do nothing but take it.
The first one groaned loud, hips snapping fast, his grip bruising her legs, leaving prints in her skin.
They kept at it, switching again, the first one pulling out, panting, letting the second take over.
He flipped her over, rough, onto her stomach, yanking her hips up, pressing her face into the floor.
She whimpered, muffled, as he shoved against her from behind, hands on her back, pushing her down. The first one knelt in front, grabbing her chin, lifting her head, rubbing himself close, too close.
Her body shook, rocking between them, caught in their sick desire, their heat, their sweat dripping on her.
The second guy’s pace got wild, slamming into her, grunting like an animal, her cries fading to nothing.
The first one gripped her face tighter, forcing her lips apart, his breath ragged, eyes locked on hers.
She didn’t look back—just stared through him, through me, the light in her eyes nowhere to be seen.
The second one pulled her back, sitting her up, pinning her against him, hands roaming her front slowly.
Her head fell back on his shoulder, limp, as he squeezed her chest, rocking into her from below.
The first one stood, looming, grabbing her legs, spreading them again, joining in, relentless.
Their voices mixed—grunts, laughs, heavy breaths—filling the room, drowning out my sobbing.
Mom’s body was a wreck, trembling, slick with their sweat, red where they’d gripped too hard.
They pushed harder, together now, moving like one big, twisted machine, breaking her bit by bit.
I curled up, shaking, puking a little on the carpet, hating myself for not stopping this.
The second one groaned loud, finishing rough, shoving her forward into the first one’s hands.
He caught her, grinning, pulling her close, starting it all over, slow and cruel, savoring it.
Her gasps were gone now... just silence, a broken doll in their arms, used up and thrown away.
I screamed inside, over and over, but outside I was quiet, a coward drowning in tears.
The pounding went on.
They didn’t care—didn’t stop—just kept going, wrecking her, wrecking me, wrecking everything.
…
After an unknown amount of time.
Issei lay on the floor broken.
His limbs were crippled, his father decapitated and his mother gone, perhaps still being tormented to a fate he didn't want to imagine.
The house was a mess.
Everything around him seemed broken but to Issei, it was much worse. The Devils played with his mother everywhere. The entire house was stained by the sin of a son unable to protect his mother.
Issei felt his breathing grow shallow.
He wondered just what his purpose in life was.
“I should just kill myself…” Issei muttered, his dull voice echoing in the hall.
“Don't you wish to save her?”
All of a sudden a soft voice rang in Issei's ears.
Without any surprise, Issei replied, “Save her? How? I am worthless. I am useless. I am weak. They are monsters and I don't stand a chance. They are gone… I can't find them even if I want to.”
“I can help you.”
“...” This time Issei didn't reply, his dull gaze finally shifting upwards, “...How?
“Because you have potential, because you have the ability to become the strongest, because you have the Longinus Sacred Gear— The Boosted Gear.”
Issei did not understand his words. The pain from his crushed limbs was making his mind hazy.
But perhaps because of the hope ignited by the words of this mysterious stranger Issei forced himself to stay awake.
To not lose the opportunity to turn his fate around.
“Can you help me?” There was a faint trace of emotion in the broken boy's voice and the mysterious stranger smiled.
His smile soft and comforting.
Issei was drawn into his compassionate onyx eyes.
“As long as you're willing to follow me in my goals I will help you find the ones that tore your family apart.” The stranger pushed his hand forward and the crippled Issei looked at him in a lost manner.
Issei crawled forward in a show of determination. With his broken hand, he leaned forward and his bloody fingertips met the hand of the stranger.
The stranger held his hand before kneeling down.
“It's okay, everything will get better, child.” He warmly caressed Issei's hair and his voice caused Issei to break down.
A chortle of sobs escaped him as he broke down crying before falling unconscious.
The stranger picked Issei up and left the house under the starry night.
He looked towards the direction where the red light had originally lit up and showed a thoughtful look.
He sighed as he fed Issei a small brown pill.
Issei's body began cracking and all his wounds healed.
The stranger with Issei in his hands slipped into the desolate forest behind the city of Kuoh.
Moments later, two figures emerged—one clutching Miki’s limp form, her torn nightgown hanging like a shroud.
The stranger turned, his smile returning, soft and chilling, as the pair mirrored it—then they dissolved into blood, merging into him with a wet, unnatural shimmer.
Miki fell, hitting the earth with a muted thud, abandoned in the dirt.
Tatsuya set Issei down with care, then approached Miki, pressing another pill into her mouth.
Her body twitched, healing sluggishly, but his gaze was ice as it swept over mother and son, a scoff breaking the quiet.
“How’s the Boosted Gear still dormant after all that?” His voice carried a hard edge, frustration seeping through.
In the anime, Issei had simply thought about breasts and activated his Sacred Gear.
Tatsuya began pacing, many suspicions emerged in his mind and only a few seconds later did he lift his head, eyes shining in awe.
“Could it be Issei is fated to only awaken his Boosted Gear with boobs in mind?” Tatsuya was startled by the thought but he couldn't think of any other possibility.
He had seen his agonised, tormented face as he raped and played with his mother. If such an emotional outburst couldn't awaken the Sacred Gear then nothing could.
If a Pseudo Heavenly Spirit’s control over its protagonist was of such magnitude then Tatsuya shuddered imagining the authority of true Heavenly Beings—
—Beings above the 4th Tier.
“Kaguya oh Kaguya, how could you not think this World is an exception?” Tatsuya muttered while looking at the night sky.
If there was a probability of something bad happening then why not always move while taking that into account?
It might make things complicated but… complications were better than death.
“The main body’s near.” His head snapped to the side, sudden and sharp.
Vision split—cities streaking past in flight as he used Godspeed and the Kuoh night stretching above—two worlds in one split glance.
It caused a dull ache in his skull, but he’d adapt.
He had no choice but to.
Splitting his mind into two was truly an arduous task.
While the Underworld was safe and sound for growth there were still many things that needed to be done in the Human World.
He seized Miki and Issei, throwing them into a crude cave carved into the mountain’s flank.
Three rooms waited within.
Issei went in one, sealed for the time being.
Soon, he’d test fate's limits. He'd like to see just how stubborn it could be.
Miki was dumped in his space as he moved to the third room.
A blonde girl lay there, asleep—petite, delicate, her nun’s garb stark against the stone.
The teal fabric clung to her frame, white veil askew, a Bible tucked at her hip, cross glinting at her throat.
Tatsuya’s eyes were cold and indifferent as he knelt and pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Soul Eater,” he whispered, a red glow flaring beneath his palm, sharp and ominous.
He drew back, and a faint soul emerged—her miniature image, tethered by a crimson thread and a golden orb pulsing within.
His gaze locked onto the golden orb, flickering with desire.
