Page 161 of Crimson Promises
Aurora
The first thing I saw was blackness. My nose rubbed against a scratchy material, and as I went to scratch it, I realized my hands were bound. With each exhale, the material against my face moved a fraction, enough to allow specks of light to filter through the woven fabric. I moved my restrained hands along my body. My knees were bent. They had bound my feet, too. As I tried to force them to separate, my heels echoed against ceramic flooring. I wiggled my bum from side to side. Nothing was caging me in, it seemed. I ran my fingers along the chair I was sitting on, its fabric plush velvet. I bounced in my chair, trying to see if I could wiggle out of my restraints when I heard faint footsteps coming from a distance. I tilted my head up an inch, trying to get a look at my abductor. Polished shoes shined to perfection; I couldn’t see higher than that.
The footsteps stopped to the left of my chair. The hood was abruptly yanked from my head. My eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the sudden brightness that flooded the room. Before me stood a grotesque creature. His leathery skin was etched with scars, twisted horns protruded from his forehead, and his mismatched eyes gleamed with an eerie luminescence. Despite his repulsive features, he offered me a closed-mouth smile, his posture as straight as a streetlamp.
"Welcome, dear guest," the demon rasped, echoing through the chamber. "I am Belial, your humble guide."
I nodded in acknowledgment, not ready to trust my voice enough to not scream at the top of my lungs. My eyes scanned the room: white plastered walls and arched windows all sealed shut. My chair was the only piece of furniture in the room. Only one way in and out.I am fucked.
He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and retrieved cutting sheers. I flinched as he brought the tool closer to me.
“Not to worry. This will only take a moment,” Belial said. The ropes around my wrists and ankles thudded to the ground. Instantly, I went to massage the indentations and red burns the ropes left against my skin.
He replaced the scissors in his pocket, the silver handles poking out as a reminder.More like a threat. I was sure Belial’s manners only went so far.
I remained firmly in my chair, my legs refusing to stand, my body becoming my own protest. "I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers," I said, my voice stronger than I felt. "Where am I? What is this place? How do I get back home?" The questions spilled out, each one a desperate grab at the control I so clearly lacked.
Belial crossed his arms over his chest, the only signal that he was frustrated with my lack of acquiescence. "The answers you're looking for," he said in a measured, courteous tone, "are not mine to give. Only my Master can provide you with the answer you seek. If you want answers I would follow me.”
My sigh cut through the tension I held in my body, a tangible release of the fight I still clutched. It was a sound of frustration, of the realization that my situation was a chessboard, and I the pawn. "Fine," I conceded, the word tasting like ash in my mouth.Didn’t have much else of a choice at this point.
He turned on his heel and began walking towards the open archway that led to the room's exit. Belial looked over his shoulder at me with that same tight-lipped smile. “Right this way, dear. The Master is expecting you.”
We traversed the winding corridors, the intricate details of the architecture capturing my attention. Every step revealed an opulent tapestry or a delicately carved sculpture, a testament to Belial's Master's taste. But amidst the extravagance, there lingered an unsettling energy, a reminder that wherever I was harbored housed darkness and despair.
“I hope you are hungry. Master has arranged quite the feast in the dining room in your honor.”
My stomach churned at the thought.
As we walked towards the dining room, I couldn't help but catch glimpses of the city beyond. Belial informed me that it was none other than Hell itself. What I saw defied all expectations. The city sprawled before me, a twisted amalgamation of grandeur and old-world charm. Tall hematite spires pierced the blood-orange sky, their ominous silhouettes casting long shadows over the metropolis below. The streets were filled with beings of unimaginable forms going about their business.
The dining room was adorned with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on one side, reflecting and amplifying the room's splendor. The mirrored wall stretched the entire length of the room. The mirrors were intricately framed with gilded gold, showcasing delicate carvings and ornate patterns that caught the light, creating a mesmerizing play of reflections.
The marbled surface gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting a warm, inviting ambiance, a stark contrast to how my presence was acquired. Scents of roses mingled with an underlying hint of brimstone filled the room, creating an unsettling blend that invaded my senses.
The opposite wall was adorned with windows, draped in floor-length curtains made of rich, luxurious fabric in shades of gold and cream. The windows provided a panoramic view of manicured gardens.
Belial gestured towards the ornate table, where a figure sat, exuding an unsettling aura. There, in all his regal glory, was someone I recognized. Black spots clouded my vision. I clasped my fingers in front of me, fingernails digging into my skin to keep me lucid. Now was not the time to faint.
My abductor’s presence commanded attention, his impeccable demeanor masking the darkness that lurked beneath. Light sandy hair fell in a perfect, disarming disarray around his chiseled features, but his eyes were what captured my attention. A flicker of something unidentifiable passed through those blood-colored eyes, stirring an involuntary shiver that traced the length of my spine, a whisper of intrigue amidst the fear. They were the color of blood, a deep crimson that seemed to hold the secrets of countless souls.
Belial gestured for me to sit at the opposite end of the lengthy table facing his Master, the Devil.
I met his gaze defiantly.
The Devil rose gracefully from his seat, a smile dancing on his lips. "Welcome, Aurora James,” he said, his voice a velvety caress. "I am delighted you could join us in the realm of eternal twilight."
I let out a quick, disgusted snort. “You sure have an interesting way of welcoming your guests.”
He offered me a leveling glare. “You would do well to remember that I will do whatever is necessary, no matter the cost, to achieve what I require.”
“I’d expect nothing different from the Devil.” The creature that had taunted my nightmares, the defiant angel, the Lord of the Underworld, Prince of Hell, Satan.
His hands tightened on the edge of the table. “I prefer being called by my name, Lucifer. The Devil is a pesky title developed by mortals to incite fear in children during bedtime stories.”
“Are you not a monster?” I snapped.
“Tsk, tsk.” He drew a finger along the table’s edge. “I plan to treat you as the rare treasure that you are in a civilized and courteous manner.” His hands balled into fists as he planted both on the table and leaned forward. “But if you continue to test my patience and my offer of decorum, you will see why I rule below. Trust me, it’s not something you wish to experience. Few live to regret the choices of their actions.”
