Lee Jun Ki’s knees shook violently as he was half carried, half dragged by two monstrously huge brutes who had entered his home during the night and had, none to gently, shoved, pulled, and man-handled him to this place somewhere under Seoul.  He’d screamed and yelled through most of the labyrinthine journey but no one had heard him.  The end was near however, one way or the other.   A crowd of demons, mostly beautiful creatures, hauntingly gorgeous in their almost human bodies, wearing fine silks and satins and decorated with extravagant jewels filled the brightly lit room almost to bursting.

Fear battled anger and determination in the young human male. Never in his wildest dreams had Junki ever suspected these creatures of the night really existed, flourishing under blind human eyes. If he lived through this night nothing would ever look the same again.

Digging his feet into the carpet, the prisoner pushed backwards using all his strength to writhe out of his captors’ grasps; the demons on either side of him didn’t slow at all. Though his struggles were useless against the monsters’ iron grips, Junki fought with all his strength, praying that some miracle would save him.

“Ande!” Junki shouted angrily, “Dowajuseyo!” The crowd of demons around them watched, bemused at their prey’s naive hopes that anyone would listen to him or that his efforts would amount to anything useful. They stood like marble statues of ancient evil, their cruel eyes following his journey, gleaming with a sick joy at his fear.

After what seemed like both an eternity and an instant, Junki was tossed upon stone stairs leading up to a silver throne. Scrambling to his feet, the man tried to run but hands like steel seized his shoulders. He let out a deep grunt of pain.  His shoulders nearly dislocated when his captor pushed him back to his knees, sending another flash of pain from the impact through his legs and up his back and still the steely hand kept him kneeling

From the crowd a woman emerged to stand by Junki’s side. Even in his pain and panic Junki couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Tall and slender, her black hair rested in curly contrast to her smooth porcelain skin, she was the quintessential Korean woman that all Korean men dream about. Her dark almond shaped eyes closed as she bowed to the throne.

“My lady Queen, long have we dreamed of the honor of having you upon our country’s soil. In celebration of that dream coming true, please except this,” she motioned to Junki, “Lisse’ Agar as a gift from the Korean Coven.” The room was filled with the low rumble of murmurings and shocked gasps. Junki’s head swam with fear, confusion and pain. What is a Lisse’…thing? And would it be his salvation or death sentence?What did the queen of these devils look like? Fear kept him from lifting his head; he had seen her figure when they had brought him in but now so close to the devil his hands shook and his courage deserted him.With all his imagination he couldn’t picture the thing that was staring at him, considering the gift she had been given. Gift or sacrifice? A gruesome image of being eaten alive sent shivers through his body. He’d grown up on stories of demons eating naughty children and had even awoken screaming from horrible dreams of being devoured by monsters.

“Bring him.” The voice, clear and musical like a Nohkahn flute broke through his terror. Some small, insignificant part of his brain told Junki that this sound might herald his death but the rest of him wanted to hear more, hear this bewitching music in his head for all eternity. By now familiar iron grips yanked him to his feet. A new surge of agony tore through his shoulders and nausea bloomed in his stomach. Even though he knew it was hopeless, Junki continued to struggle, femininely beautiful features locked in a rictus of pain as they dragged him up the steps to their queen. At the top of the steps the guards dropped him before the queen’s feet, like a parcel being dropped off on a doorstep. Anger overcame the fear as he fell to the carpet. If he was to die he would not die as a coward.  No sooner had he hit the floor then did he stood again, hands balled into fists, knees and eyes locked, staring defiantly at the she devil.

 She was the essence of beauty in its purest and most concentrated form. To try to describe what made her beautiful would be to lessen her with inadequate words. She appeared to glow with a cool, almost cold light like a winter snow quietly reflecting the moon’s soft silver light. Her lips, as soft and pink as cherry blossom petals, shifted into a small smile too subtle for the crowd behind him to see but as clear and warm as daylight to Junki. Suddenly his heart was trying to pound out of his chest for a completely different reason than fear.

 Slowly the queen glided forward, and wrapped her porcelain arms around his body, pressing her cheek against his.  Junki’s pulse raced at her nearness but he couldn’t seem to  move. “Relax, everything will be alright.” Her voice, soft and smooth like a lover’s whisper, set his body on fire. Nestling her face in his neck, she inhaled the sweet scent of his being like a wine connoisseur taking in the liquor’s fragrance. Her skin, cold and smooth like living marble, felt heavenly on the burning flesh of his neck. When she let out a slow pleased sigh at his scent he lost all of his will, no longer caring if she would be the one to take his life. Junki’s blood boiled. Wrapping his arms around her slight frame he passionately kissed her neck.