Page 15 of Hell of a Thing

Pure rage blazed through me.

By now, the man needed to wrap his arms around my waist and lift me off the ground to pull me along. Throwing my head back in desperation, I heard a distinct crack as my skull connected with his face. He cried out and let go involuntarily. Pain shot through my knees as I fell to the ground. But I was on my feet a moment later, launching forward to ram my shoulder into his diaphragm like Tom had taught me for self-defense. An audible whoosh of air left the tall man’s lungs as he tripped, his height a disadvantage at this moment and he stumbled back—right through the sacrifice door. He fell back, thumping to the ground with a cry of surprise. The door swung shut, as though closed by an unseen hand.

I expected screaming, or the sounds of whatever thing was hidden behind the door, but only silence met my ears. The door itself looked like the standard cheap kind a motel might use. Surely sound would travel clear through it. But nothing did. Whatever was happening to the asshole who’d tried to offer me up, it was happening quietly. The thought was somehow more terrifying, and I found myself straining my ears for any sign of what was happening behind the door.

Nothing.

Only silence. I shivered and rubbed my arms, trying to dispel the goosebumps rapidly forming. That had almost been me. Would’ve been meif I hadn’t gotten away.

Time seemed to speed and crawl by all at once as I walked the few steps to the other door. I should have felt ashamed. I should have felt sick with myself for the death of the tall man. But, honestly? I felt accomplished. I felt powerful. I felt like a survivor. The woodenYoursdoor was cool to the touch. What lay beyond? Was it the promised freedom or something more horrifying than anything we’d seen so far?

It didn’t matter.

I had no choice.

I couldn’t go back.

I hesitated only a moment before stepping through. Absolute darkness surrounded me. Were we back in the entrance room?

Pain ricocheted through my head as something solid made contact with crushing force. Darkness cloaked my mind as I fell, passing out before I hit the ground.

Chapter 7

Embers of excitement kindled in my gut as I stepped on to the stage. In the center, The Devil himself sat upon a throne of chiseled bones, intricately connected and swirling with an aura of vengeful souls. Usually, it was me sitting there, but today my King took his rightful place. The only thing missing was me perched on his lap. His dark eyes met mine as he tapped long, sharp nails on the armrest, the sound hollow and rhythmic.

The red and white tent around us stood high. A chandelier of skulls and wax with dozens of little flames burning on the three tiers hung in the center. Below it, a dozen rows of seats filled the space. In each of them, a doomed human squirmed, and my favorite little kitten was smack in the middle. Her ears had fallen off at some point, but the black on her nose and the drawn-on whiskers remained. A few tear streaks cut the whiskers into segments—a tribute to the trauma she had experienced. Big brown eyes stared around her in shock.

I relished the fear radiating from them.

Whimpers filled the air. Such a wonderful sound. Pressing my thighs together, I worked to control the slick dripping down my leg. Damn, this turned me on. Part of me wanted to climb on The Devil and ride him right here in front of these fortunate souls. I would stare into Kitten’s eyes as my breasts bounced free of the leather. Watch the way her cheeks flushed as she fought between terrified and turned on.

If only he’d let me. One glance in his direction and the arch of his brow revealed his impatience. Grinning, I faced the crowd.

“Hell-o, everyone,” I said, chuckling at the wordplay. Everything had gone perfectly. “It’s nice to see so many of you could make it to my show tonight.Youare the lucky ones. The ones who will grace the walls of our King’s private wine collection. What a privilege to please The Devil himself instead of becoming fodder for our ghouls.”

Stepping to the side, I motioned towards the throne. The Devil grinned, brandishing his sharp teeth and nodding along.

The sigils I’d carved into each chair silenced their cries. But oh, how their fear permeated the air. Absolutely delicious. My mouth watered. Perhaps my King would share some of the spoils with me.

With a flick of my wrist, I signaled for one of the guests to be brought forth. Claunid stepped forward to grab a young man on the end seat. As soon as he was up off the chair, the sigil’s effect ended. Immediately, he began to beg for mercy. Claunid dragged the unwilling soul to his place on stage. Deep, fresh lines engraved into the dark wood flooring made a beautiful and intricate design. One meant to hold a human in place and help the essence of their soul flow from them to The Devil. With a twisted smile that strained his stitches, Claunid shoved the human roughly onto the sigil where he remained on his knees, looking up to the Devil casually radiating a power that could crush this world beneath his hooved feet. Absolute terror contorted the man’s face, making him smell all the more appealing.

The Devil leaned forward, taking a moment to examine the man.

“Please, God, no,” the human mouthed.

TheDevil sighed. “God has very little to do with this. Far too many needy humans calling upon Him, you see. No time for Him to save all of you.”

“My King, this one is fruit-forward and full-bodied. I will age him in an oak barrel to bring out the natural earthiness of his soul. I am considering adding the flavoring of chocolate or cherry but will wait for you to let me know your preference after the tasting.”

With a grunt, The Devil reached out and wrapped his large hand around the man’s bottom jaw, pulling his face close to his. Once they were inches apart, The Devil flexed his hand, easily prying the human's jaws apart despite the man’s struggles. The Devil’s forked tongue slipped between the sharp teeth of his smile and down the throat of the whimpering man. Once it was inside his mouth, the man’s eyes widened. The Devil’s tongue glowed as it solidified their connection, and he tasted the man’s soul. The Devil’s eyes matched the intensity, their obsidian shine morphing to a red glow mirrored in the human’s eyes. With a satisfied hum, The Devil released his grip on the man, allowing him to crumple to the floor, breathing hard and clutching his chest.

The Devil licked his lips and nodded.

“His flavor is acceptable. More suffering is needed to tone down the sweetness. He should have a limb removed slowly before extraction.” The Devil’s brow puckered as he thought it through. “Make it three hours before the limb is fully detached. As for the flavoring, I think almonds would pair nicely.”

My chin dropped forward in a bow.

With a gesture from me, Claunid stepped forward to pick up the man and toss him over his broad shoulder. Another demon, this one short and round with a white face covered in staples dripping with blood, grabbed the next human. The middle-aged man unleashed a relentless string of insults as he fought each step, but once he was on his knees in front of my King, the sigil silenced his anger. The Devil didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted, pressing his hand into the man’s jowls and easily popping his jaw open with a snap that made it clear something had broken inside. After the tasting, The Devil turned to me, and I cowered before the fury in his still-glowing eyes.

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