Content warning: This is a story focused chapter that contains no sex. 

After Laurelai left the oasis, she was twice as careful. She suspected everything in hell was out to get her. Whether that meant raping and molesting her, or worse, she couldnt say. For two days that viewpoint served her well, and she ran into no new trouble. Then she heard the distant baying hounds, and diverted her course further from the mountains to avoid them. She didn’t didn’t know if they were just one more denizen of the depths to avoid, or if they were looking specifically for her. That didn’t matter though. She didn’t understand how hellhounds could track her scent from the air anyway, but she’d already accepted that things didn’t necessarily have to make sense in the way she was used to down here. 

There were no directions here that mattered here. There was no east or west. Just the punishing sun above, and the distant mountains growing ever larger. Now they grew slower because she was taking the long way to get there by diverting over rocky badlands to shake any would-be pursuers. It was full of steep escarpments and jagged boulder fields that eventually rose up to become the foothills of the mountains that she would have to climb to escape this layer of hell. That destination was days or weeks away though, depending on how much hell was playing tricks with perspective. For now it was enough that anyone pursuing her on the ground would have to take a circuitous and complex route to follow her. 

That day she took refuge in a rocky crag near the peak of a small granite outcropping. It wasn’t much, but nothing without wings would be able to harass her up so high, and it would keep the sun out of her eyes while she slept for a few hours. Her nap passed without incident, though with the erotic nightmares she’d had to endure, it wasn’t particularly restful either. She woke with her hand on her pussy, but resisted the urge to do more. She tried to tell herself that this was just a product of hell, and that as she escaped the pit to somewhere less tainted it would improve, but deep down she feared it was the crest, and she would never really be free of these terrible ideas and urges ever again. 

She took to the skies once more, even though she appeared to be no closer to the mountain that was her goal. Even though it was embarrassing to fly naked like this, it was only when she was in the sky that she felt almost clean, and truly free. The demons had taken so much from her, but they hadn’t taken that. 

Hell was a resourceful place though, and after a few hours Laurelai saw something that just might: a hazy dark band on the horizon that meant only one thing: A dust storm. 

She began to look for shelter, but in this part of the desert there was little besides rocky hills and the occasional canyon. A canyon might do in a pinch of course, but she didn’t fancy the consequences of being buried alive if the storm got really intense. Instead she took to the sky, slowly climbing higher and higher. If she couldn’t hide from the storm, then she would just go over it. 

That proved unwise. The higher she flew, the worse the turbulence got. This storm might be the most visible at ground level, but air currents in hell were as vicious as any she’d faced before, and the idea of fighting them for hour after hour would be exhausting, if it was even possible. 

Reluctantly the angel began to lean towards the idea of turning around to stay ahead of the storm. Even if that was the worst idea in the long run, it might be the only way to survive in the short run; the idea of having her skin flensed from her bones by the wind and sand was even worse than the idea of being recaptured by the demon Lord though. 

She was in the midst of turning around when she saw it. What she’d taken for just another rock in a boulder field had, what was very clearly a stone door on it now that she was looking at it from the other side. That one little detail made the whole area she was flying over change in her mind. It wasn’t an aimless collection of stones… it was the ruins of a city that had been almost completely buried. 

It was a slender thread to hang her life on, but it was all she had, so she took the risk and began diving down the hundreds of feet to the desert below. It took less than two minutes to reach the doorway, but by the time she arrived that sand had almost reached her, and the world had plunged into a twilight gloom. Anything could be hiding in the darkness within the ruins. She knew that. It didn't matter though. Inside there could be anything, but out here there was certain death, so she flew in heedlessly, dropping into a defensive crouch when she landed to try to be ready for whatever came next.

No blow landed though, and no enemy revealed themselves, so slowly Laurelai stood up and slowly looked around as her eyes adjusted. The building was a large and sturdy edifice made of ageless stones, with doorways going further back into the darkness. Once there had been frescos on the wall, but they’d been sandblasted into non-existence, and whatever clues about its purpose that might have once been visible on the floor were buried under feet of sand. Now it was only a tomb, and a temporary place of refuge. 

Laurelai stayed in that main room until the winds picked up so much that she was forced to retreat further into the darkness to avoid the spray of sand. No matter how far she retreated, she couldn’t escape the roar of the storm outside though. In the end she was forced to rely on the light of her crest to guide her, and even though it was humiliating, she was grateful for it. Once she’d had a halo and had never known darkness. She could summon the lights of the heavens with a thought. Now though all she could do was grope clumsily down the corridor while the tiniest glimmer of lust lit her way.

It was awful, but it was still better than dying. 

After a few minutes of stumbling quietly in the sandy darkness though, she noticed two things: the first was that it was cool almost to the point of being cold this deep in the darkness, and the second was that there was a faint light up ahead. Laurelai considered stopping there, but her curiosity got the better of her. She had no idea what fresh torment awaited her this deep in the ruins, but it was probably better than shivering alone in the dark. 

The angel had been expecting anything. A pit of lava leading straight to a deeper version of hell. A hive of imps ready to swarm her. A hellhound lair. She thought she was ready for anything, but what she found left her slack jawed. Hidden deep in this ancient place, in a room that was smaller than any of the other rooms she’d walked through so far was a bedroom. Not an ancient bedroom that was slowly rotting under the weight of time either. The place was lit by a large glowing crystal mounted on the ceiling, and inside there was a large plush bed, with silk sheets and pillows, drapes of black and crimson hung on the walls, and they contrasted with the brightly colored rugs that were scattered across the floor. Except for the extravagant tastes, it felt almost… normal, she thought, as she reached her toe in to touch the nearest rug and see if the whole thing was an illusion that obscured some new terror. 

It wasn’t though, and the wool was a wonderful contrast to the gritty texture of the sand. Since Laurelai could sense no danger nor see any threat she strode into the room, looking around. When she reached the bed her hand traced the beautiful wooden frame before stroking the sheets themselves. It was luxurious, and though the whole room smelled of Jasmine and other exotic incense, it couldn’t completely drown out the smell of sex and lust coming from the bed. That made her even more curious. Why would someone hide their love nest in the middle of a blasted waste land? Who did this belong to and when would they be back?

Laurelai didn’t have to wait long, because as she continued looking around the room she heard the sound of a woman clearing her throat somewhere near the door. “Don’t you believe in knocking, huh?” the stranger asked, as Laurelai whirled around.

Walking in the doorway was a pale succubus with long raven hair, small delicate wings, and exaggerated horns that spiraled up and back from the top of her head. It was only after the angel dropped into a defensive crouch, ready for the demon to attack that she realized that the succubus was only wearing a towel and her hair was still somewhat damp. She’d fought enough of the demonesses to know that those long black nails she had weren’t just for show, but the incongruous details made the angel wonder if she was losing her mind. The succubus merely looked at Laurelai like she was crazy and snorted as she walked past the angel. 

“Really? You come into someone else's home and you think you’re the one that needs to defend herself?” As the demoness spoke, she dropped her towel on the small table in the room. Laurelai averted her eyes, but not quickly enough to see the succubus’ perfect ass, and a back so shapely and toned that it might as well have been carved from marble. “Normally I’d cut you to ribbons for intruding on me like this, but since I just got clean after my latest hunt, I’ll let you off with a warning.” 

“Thank you?” Laurelai answered, uncertainly. 

“You’re welcome,” The demoness answered, turning around, seemingly unconcerned with her own nudity. She sat down on the edge of her bed and picked up a brush and started stroking her hair. “Now tell me angel. Who are you and why are you bothering me. Did Beziel send you? Antronius?”

“Send me?” Laurelai had no idea who those people were, or what the demoness was talking about. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone lived here. I was just seeking shelter from the storm and I—” Laurelai stopped speaking when the succubus started laughing at her. The demoness carried on for some time before she finally stopped. 

“You were just flying across the trackless wastes and you decided to fly into any old ruins at random?” the succubus asked. “I’m not sure if that makes you stupid or just plain crazy. Any place on this layer worth having is already held by a demon strong enough to tear you to pieces. Remember that and you’ll live longer.” 

“I will,” Laurelai answered. The demoness wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know of course, but there was something about her confident voice and dark eyes that put the angel on her backfoot. Whether it was the location or the situation, she felt almost at ease and completely off balance by the way the demoness was acting. 

The succubus nodded to herself, and was quiet for a moment before adding. “Alright then. I’ll let you stay until the storm is over, but only if you tell me a story to pass the time.” She looked up at Laurelai then, giving her a predatory smile, and Laurelai flushed slightly. This demoness was dangerous on every level. It would have been impossible to hide it, and the demoness wasn’t even trying. 

“A story?” Laurelai asked. “I don’t know any stories. Just psalms and hymns mostly.” 

“No? You have at least one worth telling, darling. Trust me.” The succubus insisted. “Just tell me how you got here. I’m sure that any story that ends with an angel in my bedroom is a story worth hearing.”