More blood continued on the floor, on the walls—fuck, there was even some on the ceiling. Dismembered torsos—and their various appendages—were tucked into corners and mounted on the walls.
It was a serial killer’s wet dream.
I would have thrown up again if my stomach wasn’t empty.
There weren’t words to describe the terror that flooded my system as I scanned the rest of the room.
Whoever called this place home was truly evil.
Aside from the bed, there were other pieces of furniture, or what I thought was furniture at first glance. A few steps closer instantly had me backpedaling when I realized they were all torture devices, blood-stained and well-worn.
A shiver danced up my spine.
On the opposite wall, a shredded piece of black fabric was tossed over what looked like a standing mirror, and next to it was a closed door. A flicker of relief pierced the dread flooding my system, and I ran for it before I could work out anything resembling a real escape plan. I just had to get out of this filthy, sin-soaked room.
Then, I’d figure out a way to get back to Belial.
I might have been a prisoner in Limbo, but it was nothing compared to the utter despair of this place. Hell, it had almost started to feel like home.
I ripped open the door, ready to run, and found my path blocked by a towering figure.
A scream froze in my throat when I found myself pinned under the glare of six narrowed eyes. My attention flitted between allof them before settling on the pair in the middle, dark and gleaming with malice.
“Going somewhere?” Asmodeus chuckled, and I backpedaled, tripping over the skirt of my dress and landing on my ass. I cried out as my tailbone smacked the stone floor.
I didn’t miss the way the bulge tenting his loincloth twitched at my scream.
“You can’t leave yet. The fun hasn’t even started.” The demon entered the room, closing the door behind him. The click of the handle latching shut had a lump swelling in my throat.
I guess this really was Hell, because I couldn’t think of a worse fate than being locked in this place with a creature like Asmodeus. It seemed his type of lust extended from mere physical attraction and sex to full-on bloodlust.
“I’m leaving,” I said, sounding much braver than I felt as I staggered back to my feet. “Get out of my way.”
He laughed again, this time louder, the noise echoing off the barren walls. “I thought you would have gotten the picture by now, you pathetic bitch. You’re meant to serve the demon lords, and for the time being, I’m your new Lord and Master.”
He took a step toward me as he undid the leather strap of his loincloth and tossed it to the side, leaving him completely naked.
If the three mismatched heads and the creepy, goat-like legs tipped with hooves weren’t enough to put me off, the thick, wrinkly dick hanging between his meaty thighs sure was.
“Like what you see?” He smirked at me like he was proud.
I wrinkled my nose. “Not really. Your brother’s is, like, twice as big.”
This wasn’t the time or place to run my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. There was no “switch” to turn off my bratty attitude, which was exactly what had gotten me into trouble with Belial in the first place. Well, beyond the whole robbing his ex-pet’s grave thing.
Even though I knew I was tits-deep in shit with Asmodeus, I couldn’t help firing off the first smart-ass retort that came to mind.
The demon moved so fast, there was no time to react before he back-handed me across the face, hard enough to send me flying onto the bed.
Skull ringing and my cheek stinging, I blinked away the stars dancing across my field of vision in time to see the demon lord charging at me.
I tried to scramble away, but his huge, sausage-like fingers caught my ankle and dragged me back across the soiled linens. “Get back here, you bitch.”
Using every iota of strength, I thrashed as hard as I could, but it was no use. He was three times my size, easily. It was like a fly trying to take out a gorilla.
He crawled on top of me, his guttural laugh scraping over my skin like sandpaper and his noxious breath filling my nostrils, making my head swim.
“Get the fuck off me!” I screeched, nails slashing at his eyes—any of them. He kept laughing as he gripped my wrists in one hand and pinned them over my head while his other reached for the hem of my dress.
