This takes place in the underworld. It stars Judge Claude Frollo and Chernabog.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Flames licked the altar the way Jafar had licked its occupant with his forked tongue. This was how Chernabog knew it was time.

The black-clad figure on the altar writhed in silent agony. His thin frame bucked and twisted, threatening to break the chains on his arms and legs. The red veil of his triangular hat lay shredded between his teeth—the result of his efforts to trap the screams. His shroud of a gown concealed the ever-so-slight evidence of his condition.

Bells tolled in the distance. Chernabog remained at the altar. There was no need to flee; these were not the bells of dawn.

The fire swallowed them both. The soul on the altar brought his fist down like a gavel. "Mercy!" Red slivers of his veil spilled from his mouth. His eyelids sank shut.

Chernabog reached into the folds of the gown and spread the thin legs. The soul was motionless as he groped under the skirts. He removed the new soul with ease.

The older soul was still unmoving after Chernabog bit off the umbilical cord. He set the cord aside for use in the gallows, gathered a ball of flames, and thrust them up the black skirts. The chains burned away.

With his bonds broken, the older soul sprang up. His eyes were blank and his movement was languid. Chernabog placed the tiny demon into his arms.

"We must baptize our son," Chernabog told him.

The soul bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord," he droned.

Chernabog led him to a fiery pit. He watched as the former judge bathed the child in the well of flames.

They would do this twelve times more.

-O-o-O-o-O-

There's also a hint of mpreg. (I figured since they no longer have physical bodies as we understand them, it was plausible.)