On a mission from God

"My name is Alyona," she said.

Alyona fixed a studious gaze on Samson as he contemplated a response.

C'mon, she's hot and you're out of your depth here. Let. Me. At. Her.

Samson thought he saw Alyona's eyes grow slightly wider when Gray spoke to him. He dismissed it, as it was a ridiculous thought, and tried his best line.

“You have very nice eyes.”

Was it hubris that made him ignore Gray and try to go it on his own? Probably. Even so, he was on a winning streak, and he was feeling good. He felt vindicated when Alyona swallowed the bait, and then kept going.

“Why thank you,” she blushed, “would you like better look? I know private place, under club. Would be just you and me, there.”

Liaisons in a secret tunnel under the club? Samson was sold.

Hang on, hot shot. You're actually going to follow this chick into the catacombs under an old Soviet weapons factory?

“Yeah, so? Are you actually scared of what's under there? We're like, immortal right now,” Samson said under his breath as he followed the scantily clad woman through several unmarked and heavily weathered steel doors.

Shut up. I think my power is going to your head. There could be anything down there, like, like-

As Gray spoke, Alyona used the hand that wasn't pulling Samson through a maze of concrete hallways to pull off her wig. Samson admired the long, glossy brown hair that freely flowed down past her shoulders, but only for a brief second, as they had suddenly entered a cavernous sanctum that demanded his full attention. The room was lined with stained glass windows and filled with braziers and candles, only a few of them lit.

"Is you and me now," Alyona said behind him, breaking the silence of the room.

Samson turned to face her.

Holy fucking shit! Run!

The statuesque brunette's skimpy club attire was gone. In its place was a red dress that managed to be both racy and refined. Her gaze was fixed on him, but Samson's eyes wandered down to her hands. He watched, transfixed, as she lit several candles merely by waving her hand over them.

Samson, my boy, you need to listen to me. Get the fuck out of here as fast as you can. Don't listen to another word she says. If you stay, I can't protect you. This is the-

Samson knew that he should probably listen to the demon. But then Alyona started to talk and he couldn't help but listen to her.

"You are afflicted. I know it. You have a great and terrible burden, but it does not have to be so," she said, losing the stilted Russian accent and taking on a neutral tone, "I can help you."

"This world has many dark forces," Alyona continued, "but there are light ones as well. I will guide you to safety, a place where he cannot reach you. Then you will be free again."

Samson hesitated. He knew Gray. Yeah, he was an asshole, but he was a known asshole who had shown him a lot of pleasures.

The hesitation was all Gray needed.

"Fuck you, bitch!" Samson felt himself yell, "This ones all mine!"

Lust as Samson had never known it before surged through him. He felt like a wild animal in heat. His heart pumped waves of blood through him, flushing his face and making his dick rock hard. He saw the beautiful woman before him and felt the urgent need to fuck her. Mere moments later, however, the feeling was fading. It was as if it was radiating out of him.

As he regained conscious thought, Samson noticed Alyona's distress. She was clutching herself, muttering something he could not understand, and glaring at him.

"What is this, demon?" she demanded, "What have you done!"