Sally Keeps Watch

Sally Keeps Watch Two assassins were given a simple task: kill the master of the Demon Woman, Sally, under cover of night to send a message. Convinced he lay alone, they slipped into the room and approached his bed, blades raised. They were close enough to hear him breathe when it began. ...All of a sudden magic pulsed through them, precise and absolute. Their bodies began to shrink, strength draining away as the spell unfolded. Panic set in as they turned. She stood there smiling, eyes fixed on them, not with rage, but with offense. As though they had broken something precious. “That man is not yours to claim” she murmured softly. The Demon Woman stepped closer, her presence heavy with promise. She would make sure they understood why that was unforgivable. “Damn it! the Demon Woman was awake!” one of the now-tiny assassins screamed. Heavy footsteps approached, each one sending tremors through their bodies, as though a gargantuan were drawing near. Sally crouched down, her shadow swallowing them whole. A terrifying expression adorning her face “I’ll be getting rid of you now,” she said gently. Her hand descended. One assassin reacted on instinct, darting aside just in time. The other froze, paralyzed by terror and Sally’s fingers closed around her with merciless precision. She lifted her effortlessly, pinched between her fingers, raising her to her face. Her eyes began to glow, her expression cool and contemptuous, as if she were inspecting something that had crawled where it did not belong. Her grip tightened slightly. Just enough to remind her how fragile she was. Sally brought the tiny assassin closer, nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply, slow, deliberate, savoring the sharp tang of fear-sweat and leather that clung to the woman’s dark clothes. A faint, pleased hum vibrated in her throat, as though the scent confirmed something only she could judge. Without hesitation, she lifted her higher. “No, please-!” The plea snapped off as the assassin tumbled past soft, warm lips into humid darkness. Sally’s mouth closed with a gentle, final click. Instantly the world became heat, wetness, and motion. The assassin landed on the broad, slick muscle of Sally’s tongue and immediately scrambled, hands slipping on saliva-slick flesh. She tried to stand, slid, fell again as the tongue flexed beneath her like a living wave. Thick saliva coated her instantly, soaking through leather and cloth, stinging her eyes, filling her mouth with the faint sweet-salt taste of the Demon Woman’s breath mingled with something darker, almost metallic. Sally made no sound, gave no sign of effort. Saliva pooled thicker now, thick strands clinging to the tiny woman’s limbs, weighing her down. She gasped, inhaled only more of the hot, wet air, and screamed again, voice muffled to nothing outside the sealed cavern. Then abruptly, the motion stopped. Sally’s lips parted just enough to let a thin ribbon of pale moonlight slice inside. The assassin, bruised and drenched, lungs burning, flung one trembling arm toward the light, reaching, pleading, fingers outstretched as if she could pull herself into the night. Sally’s lips closed again. A single, neat swallow rolled down her throat. The tiny form vanished with a soft, wet gulp One pest down. The second assassin hadn’t stopped running. Even as his partner’s final scream was silenced by Sally’s swallow, he sprinted across the endless floorboards, legs burning, gaining no distance. Sally barely shifted, she simply lifted one bare foot. The shadow fell like night. Heat rolled down ahead of it, warm skin, faint jasmine and musk, the day’s lingering sweat. Toes flexed lazily overhead. He froze, staring up. The sole descended slow, and deliberate. Thump. It caught his legs first. Bones snapped like twigs; pain exploded white-hot through his lower body. He screamed, high and thin. Sally slid her foot forward in one languid motion. Warm flesh enveloped him,soft yet crushing. The ball of her foot rolled over his hips, waist, chest. Every ridge of her sole pressed in: toe prints grinding ribs, damp skin searing skin, sweat soaking torn clothes and stinging open wounds. He crawled uselessly until he was fully enveloped underneath her sole “Pests Eliminated” she murmured, voice soft and possessive. “None of you shall touch my Master.” “Sally!” The shout cracked through the room like a whip. Her master bolted upright in bed, sheets pooling around his waist, eyes wide with groggy irritation. The dark, murderous calm on Sally’s face vanished in an instant replaced by her usual bright, carefree smile. “Oh! Good evening, Master...” she chirped, tilting her head innocently. “Don’t ‘good evening’ me!” He rubbed his eyes hard, voice thick with sleep and exasperation. “What the hell are you doing here?.” Sally clasped her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels. “Nothing special, just checking up on you....” “Well go away!” he cut in, already sinking back against the pillows. “It's not like I need you to watch me sleep...” He yanked the covers up to his chin, turning onto his side with a pointed huff. Sally’s smile never wavered. “Hehe... Ok, Master~!” She gave a small, playful curtsy. “Good night~” Her bare feet padded softly toward the door. Her voice dropped to the faintest whisper, barely audible even to herself: “Won’t ever let the bed bugs bite…” In the hallway, the moonlight caught the curve of her still-smiling lips, and the faint smear of red still clinging to the ball of her foot.