Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck.
I could do little to defend myself as they led me to the far back of the room, to the cross that stood tall. Its presence hung in the air like a shadow of the depths of pain it lured me to. Something told me that I did not want to know what they were planning to do with me. They spun me around and pressed me against the hard surface.
Not good. I definitely did not want to know what they were planning to do with me.
The wood dug into my spine and I hissed slightly in pain when they spread my arms, pinning them as far as they could on the horizontal sides of the cross. A line dug into my spine – a stretch of wood thicker than the cross, like a slab of torture slapped onto the original form to induce more pain.
A reflection caught my eye as a third man came into view. Small objects caught the dim light in the room, drawing my attention to what he held in his hands. A hammer, a handful of nails – so that caused the reflection – and two wooden stakes. Very sharp wooden stakes. Too sharp.
Color drained from my face and I struggled against fear’s clammy grip around my neck. “What… are you going to do?” I bit the inside of my lip; it pushed the fear into the depths of my mind. For now.
“Punishing you.” The man with the stakes moved closer. “And then we’ll use you as an example for your fellow demonic creatures.” My gaze did not leave him; he was a threat.
Anger bubbled in my stomach and my lips curled into a scowl. “You son of a –“ Nails dug into my wrists, sending pain to trail along my arms. In one quick burst of power, I pushed against the ones holding me and broke free. “How dare you –“
The hands found my wrists and slammed me back against the wood. The back of my head hit the cross. Sparks ignited in my gaze and a groan slipped past my lips. I closed my eyes and chewed my bottom lip hard. The pain redirected to my mouth and I dared to open my eyes. The colors maintained their positions momentarily, then faded as my mind focused entirely on my self-inflicted pain.
“I am not a demonic creature and nor are they.” My glare did not faze them. Must work on ferocity more. Maybe once I wasn’t outnumbered and pinned down.
“You are a succubus, not human. Therefore, you are a demonic creature,” he countered, glare matching mine. “And demonic creatures are not welcome on our planet.” I would not find that intimidating under other circumstances.
“Now shush,” said another man. “This might hurt a bit.”
I tried not to scream.
Stakes pierced my skin, then muscle, and then the bone of my wrists – first right, then left. Flames licked at my skin and dug along the stake’s path, coursed through my veins like the very blood it spilled. My head hung low, hair framing my face. Ragged pants passed my lips and tears stung my eyes. Don’t cry, I insisted. Don’t cry…
Nails followed the stakes, pressing deeper into my skin. I choked back a sob and shook my head. Futile attempts to ignore the pain. I tasted copper in my mouth. Instinctively, my tongue ran along my lower lip. Blood.
Each slam of the hammer spat more and more torment through me. Clenching my eyes shut, my attention refocused – moved away from the pain. Think about other things… Damn it, I’m going to die here.
Tears stained my cheeks when they finally finished. The salty liquid trained from my eyes, down to my chin. My wrists throbbed painfully. No one held my arms any longer, but I did not dare to try moving. They had me pinned without them needing to work to overpower me.
Irony sparked in my mind. Amidst my agony, the corner of my mouth twitched into a wry smile. “I guess, at the very least… I know how Christ felt.”
Rage flickered across a man’s face and he raised his arm. The back of his hand hit my cheek and I cried out. The sting joined the rest of my problems – my torture.
“Don’t you dare speak His name.” His angry voice barely registered in my mind. “You have no right to speak of Him!”
I flinched, trying to cringe away when he raised his arm again. One of his colleagues snatched his wrist in midair. “Leave her. She’s not worth the trouble.”
He held the other’s arm for a moment longer, releasing him only after he nodded. They cast me one more glance and turned away. With a flick of a switch, light vanished from the room and engulfed me in darkness. The door creaked and shortly after, slammed.
I was alone.
My arms stung as if the burning flames of Hell licked a path across them. I could not escape; I had no way to free myself. If I could escape from the cross, I only needed to fight my way out. Simple, but now, I couldn’t. Not in this state.
I hung my head in defeat. Kill me soon, or let me go. My hope wavered. They would never release me – not a demonic creature. The thought shrouded my mind and I instilled my hope in the former option.
Please.
***
Sense of time faded long ago. Minutes, days, hours. They blurred together into a swirl of indecision and uncertainty. Strength left my body; it gave in to the blood loss and extreme famine. Oh, they gave me food and water, but only once it felt like my stomach would give in to itself. Scraps and occasional drops of water; they gave enough to pull me back from the line between life and death.
My life energy was low – too low.
The only reason they kept me alive. To torment me. They waited until my paranormal genes, and not my human traits, would kill me. How long have I been without my lifeline? Too long. The only answer I could offer myself. My current state proved it.
The items that pierced my wrists help up my weary form. The rest of my body turned its back on me; it abandoned me in my agony and left me to die. Perhaps it was better that way.
A slam echoed far away, or nearby? I groaned and shifted to lessen the strain on my neck. Silence regained control in the dark until a distant scream broke it. Thuds followed, and another scream. A fight? The noises continued, out of reach for me to determine the source. Slowly, the voices vanished one by one. The door creaked and the person slammed their hand onto the light switch. Light burst into the room and I whimpered, shrinking away from it. A haze covered my vision, but could not hide the distinct thuds of fast-paced footsteps.
“Eliza!” The male voice muttered something about goddamn puritans under his breath. I recognized the phrase and its speaker. Someone I knew always said it. Who?
Whoever the person was, his footsteps halted in front of my. He lightly gripped my chin, a gentle sensation I had grown unaccustomed to, and lifted my gaze up to meet him. An outline formed through my blurred vision and I squinted to see more details. Recognition flitted across my expression and I groaned.
Kill me now and send me to the beyond. “Not you.” Hoarse coughs followed my words, shaking my body.
A soft chuckle slipped into my ear. “Yes, me, my sweet succubus.” A soft hand touched my arm – too close to my wound. “Now bear with me, this will hurt a bit.”
A sharp, searing pain tore through my wrist before I could respond. Whimpering, I lowered my forehead against his chest and choked back another cry. Tears fled my eyes with little resistance as a stake fell to the ground with a soft thud. He repeated the process for the other arm, drawing more pained sounds from me. With the stakes gone, the nails followed. Salty liquid trailed a pattern across my face by the time he finished and my breaths escaped in short pants.
With my support gone, I instantly lost my footing and collapsed into him. He wrapped an arm around my waist to stabilize me and softly swiped the matter brown hair away from my face. I must have looked horrible, but I couldn’t care. He freed me.
If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he actually cared.
“Eliza, dear, how long has it been since your last time?”
Whimpering at the thought, I tried to think back. I fought through that cloud that had settled in my mind, in my weakened state. “T-Three days before… t-taken here,” My mutters sounded incoherent, even to myself. I snatched the evasive date from the depths of my mind in a brief moment of clarity. “…Ma
rch 6th.”
Raising my gaze slightly to look at the elder-incubus who held me, I noticed an oddity in his usually calm appearance. His eyes had widened and he looked down at me with something my mind registered as concern. Falsely registered; he would not worry about me.
“Sweetheart.” He lifted me up bridal style and I couldn’t find the will to resist; I couldn’t walk alone. “It’s March 23rd.”
Though my brain failed to calculate the days, I recognized the severity by the difference in numbers. I allowed the older incubus – Jerome, as I knew him – to carry me up the stairs and out the building.
“Start the car.” Seconds after the order, I heard a car door slam and the roar of an engine. He hadn’t come alone. Did he come to rescue me?
Jerome slid into the backseat of the car and kept me on his lap. He held me in a gentle embrace and I rested my head against his chest. The car shook and left the building behind us – finally. The driver fumbled with a white box up front, then tossed two white rolls into the back seat.
“Here.”
My eyes shut on their own accord as Jerome grabbed the small bundles and wrapped the bandages around my wrists. My body relaxed, despite the occasional twitch of pain. He lightly brushed against my skin as he bandaged them and the sensation threw me into a deeper state of calm. Within moments, Jerome finished patching up my arms and snaked his arms around me.
“You know,” he said, his tone lowering to a whisper. “…I think this makes the second time I’ve saved you.”
An annoyed groan escaped me and I smacked his shoulder. I flinched and regretted the move instantly as pain shot up my arm. A five-year-old child poking him would have had a better effect than my slap. He helped for his pride, nothing else.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” I muttered, too exhausted to properly argue. “So fuck you.”
An alarm bell went off in my head and I bit back a sigh. I swore I sensed the mischievous grin that inevitably crossed his lips.
“I already did you.”
It was going to be a long drive.
Vengeance Served
The early summer warmth engulfed the city even after the sun traveled below the horizon and brought the moon to its peak. Occasional stragglers walked the streets, the exceptions of the people partying closer to the center. Partygoers tormented the socially challenged during the weekend, but perfected the environment for wanderers of the night.
Footsteps echoed on the ground in a soft, near-inaudible fashion. Black hair framed the young man’s face and came to rest halfway down his back. A tight black tank top accentuated his skin and matched the dark jeans he wore.
Raoul slowed his pace, showing a small smirk. An essence approached him – no, two, raining their pressure down on him. Two creatures who possessed the gift of magic headed towards him, their speed fast and without hesitation, an indication of their goal. Fast, without hesitation. Too sure of themselves.
Angels, he mused, flicking his wrist. They finally decided to act? Let's see how experienced they are.
A soft swoosh halted him in his tracks and blue eyes narrowed. Inexperienced at hiding their presence; unable to ambush him, let alone fight. One small, feminine form and another, male and slightly muscular.
Tsk. “Fools.”
In one swift movement, Raoul swung round and called his sword into existence. It materialized in his hand as a sheen of steel. The blade tore through angel flesh and bone with little resistance. One body crashed to the concrete sidewalk, its missing body part joining it shortly after. Wings of shimmering silver blocked the view of the corpse, but could not shield the puddle of crimson forming beneath it. The blood marred pale flesh and tainted the woman’s curled, golden locks.
Another angel descended swiftly and kneeled by his fallen comrade. A flurry of emotions covered his expression. Shock, horror, distress – sadness. Time came to a halt, the angel not moving from his kneeling position while the young, armed man waited.
When he looked at Raoul, untamed fury shone in emerald eyes.
“How dare you!”
“Self-preservation. If I hadn’t made the first move, I would have been at a disadvantage.” A smirk rested on Raoul’s lips. “I missed my target,” he mused. “I hadn’t meant to kill her so quickly. There was still fun to be had.”
Anger morphed into disgust and the angel scowled. “You monster!”
Raoul snorted and pointed the tip of the blood-laced sword at him. “You knew very well what you were getting into. Attacking me, two against one? Those odds are stacked in my favor. You cannot defeat me with such poor offensive tactics.”
“We did not intend to kill you!” Determined eyes flitted from the female corpse to the blade.
“I know your kind. Judging from your lack of weapons, even something as simple as a bow, your specialty is magic. You would have bewitched me and left me defenseless against those amongst you who would fight.”
The angel clenched his jaw and rose to his feet, saying nothing.
“You are such a pitiful race.”
In one quick motion, the angel flapped his wings to flee to the sky. Raoul reacted before he ascended three feet; he swung and struck. A direct slash cut along the back of white wings, the feathers near the wound painting red.
A scream tore through the silence and the male angel crumbled, collapsing to his knees. Irregular breaths shook him and he whimpered, arms embracing his stomach. Where normally his wings would fold around his body to shield him, they now hung limp and twitched. Once. Twice.
“B-Bastard –“
Raoul dismissed his weapon and knelt down by the angel, ignoring the metallic stench that hung in the air. Gripping the edge of the Angel’s left wing just above the wound, Raoul pressed hard against his skin. A pained gasp tore from the angel's throat and he tensed, body ceasing its functions in a poor attempt at preservation.
A hint of a grin flitted to Raoul’s face and he squeezed harder, drawing a yelp from the other. His amusement melted into a serious gaze and he leaned closer to the broken angel. For a moment, he released his grip, only to return it right after and draw more agonizing whimpers from his victim.
“By the time I finish with you, you will envy your partner’s quick death and will be begging me to allow you that luxury.”
“Never!”
“Stubborn, hmm?” That will make this more interesting.
Raoul chuckled and stood, his grasp on the angel’s wing forcing him to struggle to his feet. He turned his victim to face him and met a glare weakened by fear. “What I said is not up for discussion. You will beg, no matter how much you refuse. Pity I killed her; torturing you together would have been much more amusing.”
The angel blanched and cast a quick glance at his former comrade. A sharp tug on his wing tore a cry from his throat and drew his attention back to Raoul. His wings shook from the abuse and each nipping bite of discomfort coursed through his veins. His tormented wings shared the ache with his entire body and came close to paralyzing him in the fiery sensation.
Raoul spared but a brief look at the female corpse lying on the sidewalk, before he focused fully on the still-living captive. “Say farewell to life as you once knew it.”
Darkness swirled around the two, blocking their view of the outer world. The magic surrounded them completely and transported them into the very bowels of Hell. Raoul shifted his hand from the angel’s wing to the back of his neck and pushed him along a dark hall to the chamber Raoul selected.
This will be very fun, indeed.
Table of Contents
A Taste of Truth
A Shattered Dream
Answer me this
Deafening Silence
Forbidden Magic
Demonic Rescue
Vengeance Served
A Glimpse of The Dark Page 2