The Flame Priestess
"You have done well," she laughs, her tone mocking.
"None before have reached my inner sanctum."
Torgo, muscular limbs gleaming with sweat and blood, grips his axe in shaking fists.
"None have burned so bright with hate and vengeance before now!" His booming voice is iron and dragon thunder.
Mighty glaive raised aloft, the barbarian leaps into bloodthirsty action.
Creatures of ash and cinder rise from the tiled floor. Blackened creations of death and flame stand against him. His wicked blade makes short work of them, each swipe cutting them down to charred ruin.
"You will pay, Priestess!"
Yala giggles, girlish and sweet. The sound is at odd with her sultry curves and crazed stare.
"You're beginning to bore me, warrior. Such talk grows tiresome after so many repetitions."
Torgo sneers, fighting onward. Each blow of his massive, keen-edged axe thins the ranks of homunculus and brings him a step closer to the demonist witch. He can smell her now, taste the scents of rose water and sorcery over the stink of soot and his own blood.
Amber eyes burn in deep sockets. Jewels and gold jangle as Yala claps with childlike glee.
"That's better," she babbles, "give me everything you have!"
"I have vengeance," Torgo screams until tendons stand proud on his neck. He crushes the last automaton's skull beneath his fur-lined boot.
"I bring death!
His blade gleams in the temple lamps. A bellow bull, he charge. His axe swings. Grey eyes meet her burning cauldrons. Torgo's flesh freezes into stone. His blood boils with infernal heat.
"Silly barbarian," Yala giggles.
With the feline grace of a hunting lynx, the witch priest dances toward her frozen prey. Long, oiled limbs reflect guttering flames of temple lamps. Buxom curves strain diaphanous silks as she turns through a pirouette. Long, hot fingers caress iron-hard, stone-cold flesh.
"You aren't my first, you know."
She leans in close, presses her body against his. Steam blisters from his flesh. Trails of smoke leak from his flared nostrils. Yala's toned, slender arms slide around Torgo's neck.
"You were never my first."
Hot lips brush Torgo's. Her tongue dances with his. She cradles him until the fires of Hell burn him to ash.