by King, Bella
My hand is heavy, like dense tungsten, as I raise it under Diavolo’s wicked gaze. The reflection of my arm is twisted by his masked, as is the rest of my body, as though I’m dancing for him while standing perfectly still.
Diavolo’s head tilts down in a slow nod. “Remove your clothing and come forth. You will honor the Kingdom with your blood.”
My clothing? I should’ve known this initiation would take a turn eventually, but I’m the one who volunteered for this. Maybe saying yes to the devil wasn’t that great of an idea, after all.
But I don’t wish to keep Diavolo waiting, and I’m eager to show that I can be a member of his Kingdom, so I begin to undress, first removing the robe, then pulling my black sweater over my head. I make it a point to keep my mask in place as I reveal more and more of my body.
Everyone’s eyes are on me as I take my clothes off. Sweat glistens from my body as I quickly remove my bra, trying to hide the bright blue fabric under the blackness of the rest of my clothes as I drop it into the pile. Perhaps I should’ve worn red underneath.
Nobody comments, so I strip down further, pulling off my pants and placing my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. I look up at Diavolo as I drop them to my bare feet, the warmth of the fabric gracing my toes before I step away from it.
My nipples form stiff peaks as I walk toward the stage, my nudity arousing me more than I imagined it would. I’ve never been much of a performer, but the masked audience, coupled with the anticipation for pain, twists my brain into some sort of demented sexual excitement.
I shouldn’t feel this way, especially not under the evil gaze of Diavolo.
“Stop,” Diavolo commands, holding out his large hand before I’m able to step onto the stage.
I freeze, looking up at his towering figure through the eyeholes of my mask.
Even through the mask, I can see his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Remove the mask and bare yourself completely,” he says.
Chapter Sixteen
Diavolo
I was stunned by her physical perfection when she removed her clothing, but I’m even more stunned to see the sister of Olesya standing before me. It’s as though I’m seeing Olesya’s ghost!
I’m taken aback, but I try not to show it as this woman stands before me with her small hands clasped just below her navel. My eyes sweep her body, examining the soft weight of her pale breasts and the way her belly curves down toward her pussy. Against my willpower to remain professional with this ritual, my cock stiffens in my pants, hot blood pumping it up until it aches.
I sweep my robes across my cock, hiding the large erection that this woman has caused. Maybe I should’ve chosen a different member, but she’s the one who volunteered. I would look foolish to turn her away.
Besides, she’s clearly willing to do whatever it takes to get my approval, even if it means having her blood spilled on a cold stone stage in front of her peers.
But why is she even here? I thought for sure that her family had moved on after the cargo ship incident. I haven’t seen the families of anyone who disappeared that night. They’ve all moved on.
I squint my eyes at this woman. What was her name? Zella?
I clear my throat, not letting her appearance throw me off from what needs to be done. “You have volunteered to spill your blood for the greatness of our organization. The Devil’s Kingdom welcomes your sacrifice.”
Her eyes are cold, like radioactive ice, as she stares up at me. She’s a good foot and a half shorter than I am, but her chin is tilted up confidently.
I’m desperate to know why she came. Have we been compromised, or is she looking to continue the legacy that her sister started with the Devil’s Kingdom? Either way, I need to keep a close eye on her. She won’t be going home like the others will tonight.
I’ll be able to talk to her after the initiation ceremony, but for now, I have to go through the motions that are required of me. I pull a blade from a white leather holster on my hip, drawing out the silver blade slowly for theatrics.
Zella’s eyes widen as I reveal the full length of the blade, and I catch a glimpse of blue underneath the brown of her irises. She’s wearing contacts.
I bring the knife out in front of her, allowing the light from the fire to dance off the edge and reflect onto her neck and breasts. Her nipples are solid, poking out at me with such ferocity that they make my mouth water. It would take so little effort to bend down and suck one of them into my mouth, tasting her creamy skin on my tongue.
I clench my thighs, fighting the erection that’s threatening to tear through my pants and spring out at the audience. Zella wouldn’t be able to handle that. We’ve never done sexual rituals in the Devil’s Kingdom, and now isn’t exactly the best time to start them.
Holding the knife in one hand, I place my other on Zella’s shoulder, guiding her body to turn toward the semicircle of onlookers. Her shoulders roll back, thrusting herself out to the crowd like a gift for them to marvel at. I’m surprised by how confident she’s behaving with the size of the knife in my hand. Most people start to get nervous at this point.
But if she’s anything like Olesya, she has a fighting spirit. I value that highly in my organization, so I can see Zella rising in our ranks if she’s not here to stir up trouble.
I think back to the previous initiation, to the book that held the words that I am again supposed to recite. I remember most of them, but I can replace those I don’t remember with new ones. I smile to myself as I get an idea.
“Behold, my loyal followers, the purity of flesh and blood. What better specimen before us than a young woman, confident and beautiful, even in her most vulnerable state?”
I pause, watching as the others nod their heads.
I squeeze Zella’s shoulder as I continue speaking. “The Devil’s Kingdom exists as a rumor, a darkness that people fear when they venture out at night. We are more powerful than gods and more wicked than the devil herself. As this woman’s blood is spilled upon your broken belongings, your identity is only that of servitude. You will serve me, Diavolo Morte, the one who sits upon the throne of souls in the Devil’s Kingdom.”
I bring the knife out, slowly bending my arm to bring it in front of Zella. She stands in front of the golden bowl, her body shaking in my grip as I touch the cold blade to her neck. I wait for her to pull away from it, to reject the notion of having her throat slit, but she doesn’t.
What must be done will be done.
Chapter Seventeen
Zella
I hold my breath tight and high in my lungs as Diavolo’s knife sits upon the delicate skin of my neck. He keeps it in place for several seconds before moving it away, trailing it across my collarbone and setting it down against my forearm.
I let out my breath, only to suck it in again sharply as he removes his hand from my shoulder and raises my arm up with the knife, pulling me forward to lean over the golden bowl. My heart beats loudly in the silence of the room, the sound accompanied only by the soft crackling of the fire.
“With this blood,” Diavolo says in a soft rumble, “Family lineage will be continued.”
His words are barely audible, even to me, but they still catch me off-guard. Family lineage? He can’t be talking about Olesya. This must have something to do with the Devil’s Kingdom being considered a family, right?
The thought leaves my brain as a sharp pain brings my attention back to my arm. The blade slices through layers of flesh and muscle, cutting down at an angle to maximize the depth without reaching the bone.
“Be still,” Diavolo growls, digging his fingers into my arm and pushing me down over the bowl.
Blood pours from the wound, much more than what came out of my hand when I carved it in the bathroom last night. I watch with a mixture of horror and amazement as the crimson blood pours into the bowl, drenching the broken contents in seconds.
Blood runs over Diavolo’s hand, soaking into his sleeve and adding another layer of decoration to the white fabric. I ca
n only watch, mesmerized by the amount of blood flowing from my arm as it fills the bowl.
“Slate!” Diavolo turns his head to the door that his assistant guards. “Bring the flame.”
I look up from my arm, following Slate as he takes one of the torches from the wall and brings it forward, marking toward me like a zombie. He jumps up onto the stage, thrusting the torch out to Diavolo.
I look up at the fire’s reflection on Diavolo’s silver mask. Maybe my brain isn’t functioning properly from all the blood that I’ve lost, but he looks very much like the actual devil. If he told me that he was Satan, I might believe him.
Diavolo leaves me at the bowl, stepping away to heat the knife in the flames. It glows red under the heat, the blood on it crackling and spitting in the fire as he twists the slender metal around in the scalding heat.
When he withdraws the knife, it’s glowing red, illuminating his white robes as a drop of my blood falls from his sleeve onto the stone floor. He steps away from Slate, walking back toward me as my head grows light from bloodloss.
“It’s time to seal the wound,” Diavolo says, lowering the glowing knife to my arm. “Be still.”
I suck in my breath as he touches the scalding metal to my skin, burning flesh and blood in a horrifying sizzle. I can smell the meaty scent of my skin cooking under the knife, but I stay as still as I can, eyes wide as I watch the blood stop flowing. Diavolo has cauterized my wound.
He stands up straight, pointing to my arm and the golden bowl filled with my blood. “She has sacrificed for the Devil’s Kingdom and will be held in high regard. The rest of you shall go with Slate into the ocean to cleanse yourselves.”
Diavolo looks down at me, his eyes sparkling beneath his twisted mask. “You will be coming with me tonight.”
I’m in over my head, but with how much blood I’ve lost, there’s not much I can do. I don’t especially want to bring my wounded body into the ocean and have the salt burn my skin, so it’s probably better to just go along with Diavolo. My aim was to get him alone, and I might have opened that possibility by sacrificing myself on the stage.
Slate steps down and leads the others out from the same entrance they came, while Diavolo places his hand on my bare shoulder and stares into my eyes. “Get dressed,” he says. “And we will go to my office. I’d like to speak to you about something.”
Does he know? There’s no way that he could. I’ve taken every precaution against it, and if he did know my intentions, he would’ve already killed me. This must be about something else.
But as I hurry off the stage and gather up my clothes, my body weak and shaky, I fail to see any other reason why Diavolo would separate me from the others. I’m terrified of what he will do to me, but my only hope now is to go along with it. I’m in no position to fight back against his power.
I put on my clothes as quickly as I can in my weakened state while Diavolo watches me. His brown eyes are glued to my body as I get dressed, and I can’t help but feel sexual energy radiating from him. He’s enjoying seeing me so exposed, but sexual arousal was the last thing on my mind when I got undressed in front of him.
Or, at least, it should’ve been.
Either way, I’m fully dressed now, my nudity and shame hidden from Diavolo’s all-knowing gaze. I place the red mask back over my face, although it won’t be needed anymore. He’s already seen me and has had enough time to make the connection between my sister and me.
That’s if he even remembers her. It’s been five years.
“Come with me,” Diavolo says, waving his hand as he steps off the stage toward the door he came from earlier.
I follow him, walking deeper into his lair. With every step against the cold ground, I think how stupid it was for me to come here, so helpless and ignorant to what’s going on. I could’ve watched and waited for him to show up on the port if I knew that the Devil’s Kingdom was doing business here. I would’ve been so much safer.
But the opportunity to be patient has come and gone. I walk beside my greatest enemy, deep into his evil palace where good people perish, and the wicked sit triumphant on bricks of Black Sugar. This place might as well be hell.
Chapter Eighteen
Diavolo
I push a silver cup toward Zella, watching her eyes as they dart around my office, examining every nook and corner. She’s an analytical one, and I like that, but her talents will amount to nothing if she’s not here to serve me.
“Drink this,” I say from across the desk.
“What is it?” she asks, leaning in and looking into the cup.
“Something to put the blood back in your veins. It’s my own special brew,” I answer, being purposefully vague to test how much she trusts me. Any loyal member of the Devil’s Kingdom would do anything I say without question.
She grabs the cup and throws the hazy liquid back, swallowing it all in one gulp and then bursting into a fit of coughs.
“You could’ve taken your time with that,” I say with a chuckle.
She purses her lips, setting the cup down and leaning back. “I’m not that patient.”
“Indeed,” I reply with a smirk. “Would you like a smoke?” I pull a cigar from my jacket pocket.
She shakes her head.
“Suit yourself,” I say, lighting it up and taking a few puffs. I savor the rich flavor of tobacco before returning to my guest.
Zella is nervous, but she tries to appear confident as I clasp my hands together and speak through the cigar hanging from my lips. “I’d like to give you a job.”
She perks up. “Serving the Devil’s Kingdom is my greatest pleasure.”
I could think of a thousand more pleasurable things for her to be doing right now, and absolutely none of them involve having her fully clothed and reciting nonsense about how much she loves my organization. I highly doubt that she does, anyway.
I pull the cigar from my mouth and lean toward her, the leather beneath me creaking and groaning as I move. “My previous assistant was discovered by the dock with a square cut from her hand and a bullet in the back of her head. As you can imagine, I’m in need of a replacement.”
Her eyes grow large, but it’s not from fear. There’s something else going on in her head, but I’m unable to say what it is. I wish I could peel back her skull and look into her mind.
“Your assistant had a square cut from her hand?” Zella asks, squinting her eyes.
“Yes. What of it?”
She shrugs. “That’s an odd thing to do to someone.”
I rub my chin. “Yes, it is, but that’s beside the matter at hand. She’s obviously no longer able to serve me, so I would like you to take her place.”
“Me?” she asks in mock surprise. She’s not much of an actress.
I nod. “Yes, you. I admire your dedication to the cause, and I believe you will be a good fit.”
I might not be the best actor either, but Zella seems to buy my story. I just want to keep an eye on her, and I have the creeping suspicion that she’s here to do the same to me. Of course, if she intends to try anything tricky, I’ll have her join Jenny by the dock.
I study Zella expression, looking for signs of excitement, distress, or even fear, but there’s nothing there. She’s blank, and that tells me that this isn’t her first rodeo.
I lean back in my seat. “The first thing that I’ll have you do is clean up my office, but you start that tomorrow. It’s been an awful mess since we lost Jenny.”
Zella nods slowly. “Alright, sir.”
“You don’t need to call me sir. We’re going to be closer than that,” I tell her.
“Alright,” she replies.
“You know,” I say, leaning forward again. “I barely remember the people who worked for me in the past, but you seem somewhat familiar. Have we worked together before?”
There it is – the flicker of fear on her face.
“No, I don’t believe we have,” she replies, reciting the words as though she thought every one of them out be
fore they left her mouth.
“Odd,” I say, tapping my fingers on the desk. “Were you part of some other organization before you joined the Devil’s Kingdom?”
“My past is behind me,” she replies. “Wiped clean during initiation.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. She and I both know that initiation is nothing more than a symbolic transition. Nobody actually forgets who they were before any of this. Besides, she didn’t even finish it. The others are bathing in the cold ocean as we speak.
I drag short puffs of smoke into my mouth, tasting them before letting them drift out with my words. “Do you have a family?” I ask.
“The Devil’s Kingdom is my only family.”
“That’s not exactly the dynamic here,” I reply, growing irritated. “Although relationships between members are forbidden, it still happens. It’s not a family thing.”
“Then no,” Zella says, “I don’t have a family.”
I sigh. “Very well. I would like you to get some rest, but you won’t be staying with the others tonight. You will be sharing my room.”
She perks up, but I doubt it’s from sexual interest. It’s not from fear either because that’s been erased from her face. She must want to get me alone, which means her intentions are anything but pure.
Unfortunately for her, my plans don’t involve letting her take a stab at me while I’m sleeping.
I stand up. “Here at the Devil’s Kingdom, most of our operations happen under the port. There’s no risk of being found out by the local authorities, as it would mean a certain death sentence for everyone in their department, but I didn’t rule out the possibility of a federal raid, which is why the Kingdom is built underground.”
Zella rises with me, following me closely as I lead her to the secret exit from the office to my living quarters.