Page 12 of Hell of a Thing

“You can’t have her! No!”

The thing retracted its pincers from Mallory’s neck and turned to me, the red of its eyes glowing like two coals even the strobes couldn’t disrupt.

I’d thought the terrible shriek it made was the worst sound I would ever hear, but it paled in comparison to the thing’s horrific laughter—the sound of pure joy as it reveled in its malevolent intent. Then its head ducked down, driving its pincers deeper, and Mallory moaned as if she didn’t have the strength to do more. I watched it tear into the flesh of her neck, its eyes on me, the sounds of it eating only broken by that horrible violent laughter.

But I still had a grip on Mallory’s arm, and I pulled her towards me, refusing to abandon her. A tail like a scorpion shot around from its back and lazily sliced through Mallory’s arm at the elbow, leaving me holding her severed hand.

With an all-too-human grin, the spider pulled her limp form back up to the ceiling and disappeared into the shadows, the sounds of it greedily slurping and the crunch of bones pounding in my ears.

Those sounds were sweet Mallory being consumed.

I was supposed to save her.

She was supposed to swim again.

My mouth opened in horror. I came back to myself at the tinkling sound of Mallory’s charm bracelet, still attached to the dead wrist I held in my hand and set off by the uncontrollable shaking of my limbs.

With aroar, The Devil wrapped his large hand around my throat and lifted, slamming me against the wall with a crack. My head spun, and I saw stars as I fought to remain conscious.

“I accept that some sacrifices need to be made, but how dare you take an innocent such as she from me.” There was a dangerous edge to his booming voice, and I fought to keep my hands at my sides instead of clawing at him as I quickly ran out of air. “Well, Isra, what do you have to say for yourself?” As if realizing I wasn’t able to speak with him squeezing my windpipe, The Devil eased the pressure, allowing me to gasp in a quick breath of air.

“It is all for the kitten, my King. This sacrifice was necessary—”

He cut me off with a growl. “She was so pure I could smell her from across the room.” The heat of his body increased, his eyes becoming a living flame, and I turned my head as it scorched me. “A rare one, and she was mine. Do you dare take from your king now, Isra?”

Attempting to swallow around his grip on my throat and failing, I chose my next words carefully.

“Yes, and an innocent’s death was necessary to break the kitten. That child was pure, sure, but there are a few others like her here tonight. A young girl who came to the carnival as an act of rebellion after her sister’s death. She and Kitten may have only known each other a short time, but they bonded well, and that made her special. Kitten will be devastated knowing she couldn’t save her. The girl’s death will be worth this trouble, my liege. I swear it.”

His hand didn’t loosen from around my neck, but the fire in his eyes died down to burning embers and he tsked. “Mmm, so you keep saying, and I will give you this chance to prove yourself. But first” —The Devil grinned, his black lips curling up, his eyes glinting cruelly—“you’ve overstepped Isra, and a punishment must be paid.”

A bolt of icy fear stabbed through my middle as I ran through the possibilities.

Was it to be hot pokers? Waterboarding? Perhaps he would stretch me until my joints popped.

The Devil’s smile widened as he released me from where I was pinned to the wall and spoke one word.

“Come.”

Head bowed, he grasped my hand and pulled me to the wall, fading through it to come out the other side and into the torture room where our group had watched a carnival goer being flayed.

The corpse left behind in the flaying room had already been removed and likely given to the ghouls as part of their daily rations, leaving behind a blood-soaked table in a room full of dismembered limbs hanging on hooks. Without looking back at me, The Devil reached up and slid a large man’s arm from its spike. The limb came loose with a wet sound that reminded me we’d just taken these bodies apart before the carnival began, hanging them in here for an extra boost of fear. Their real purpose was to provide a selection for new demons looking for dead parts to stitch together into the form of a ghoul, but the humans didn’t know that.

The arm The Devil had selected would’ve made a fine piece for any ghoul. Belonging to a massive man with thick forearms, it had been cut at the elbow joint, allowing for a separate section of bicep and shoulder. The more difficult a human was to detain, the more expensive the piece, and this one would’ve put up quite the fight. Yes, it was an expensive piece, and almost certainly lost now to The Devil’s nefarious purpose. Turning to me with a smile, he covered the hand with his, closing the fingers into a fist without looking down.

“Table.” The Devil pointed at the blood-soaked mess, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill as I passed through the magic barrier to ascend the stage and climb the surgical table. The cold metal prickled my skin as I lay across it. “Areyou ready to take your punishment, Isra?” There was an excited edge to his tone that sent a bolt of arousal to my core. Whimpering, I spread my legs. By the way he spoke, there would be an element of pleasure to my punishment, and my body responded to the promise of release, giving way before his power like a tree before a hurricane.

Setting the hand down between my feet, he moved to one of my wrists, strapping it to the table with black leather. Watching his fingers work the leather with ease tightened my core. The sight was enough to have me squirming. He walked around the table, strapping my other arm with the same precision.

After returning to my feet, he picked up the arm and adjusted the fingers. The first and middle fingers were extended with the rest curled. Letting my knees fall apart, my breathing quickened as I anticipated what was to come.

Would it be pleasure or pain today? This was a punishment, so it must be pain, but the Devil was known to sprinkle in bits of ecstasy. Gripping one of my thighs, he pushed it roughly up, getting full access to my entrance. Slick and open, he used the severed arm and pushed the two rigid fingers into my pussy. What I wanted was the heat of The Devil’s skin. What I got was ice-cold rigor mortis. Once my fluids covered the appendage, he withdrew it and adjusted the angle.

Squealing, I realized what he intended, and I tensed at the pressure of him pushing the two fingers deep into my ass, pausing only a moment to circle the fingers and stretch the hole. Trembling with every thrust, I pulled at the straps holding me, wishing I had something to hold. Without that, I dug my nails into my palms, hissing at the pain as he pulled the hand out and pressed it against my inner thigh, using my leg to close the fingers into a fist once more. The chill of the corpse eased the burn of the stretched skin. Something I grew thankful for as he forced each knuckle in.

Tensing would only make it hurt worse as he forced the hand in. Through gasping breaths, I consciously kept my muscles relaxed. A task that grew harder with every second ticking by as the arm worked past each ring of muscle until it was fully seated.

The Devil smiled triumphantly. “I knew you could take it.”

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