“Get up, little bird.”
The Devil himself entered her room and crossed his arms across a broad chest. He wore many masks and she never knew which she would get.
There was the Devil who dressed in fine suits with slicked-back hair that lorded over his Playground in Club Hel. The Devil was often half-phased between daemon and god form, his skeleton flickering starkly under his skin. It was intimidating. Terrifying, even.
Then there was the Lord of Nightmares. If you didn’t know him, you would never guess that the Devil and the Lord were the same man. The Lord was usually shirtless, his black tattoos standing boldly against pale skin. They covered his torso and dipped below the waistband of the leather black pants he favored. His dark blonde hair was always mussed and disgust weathered fine lines into his features.
She knew he had a third mask but had never seen it. Phobetor, the dream god responsible for weaving nightmares among mankind. Xia didn’t know how he differed from the Lord. Maybe he didn’t but she had never heard him called by his given name.
It would be exhausting, she thought, to wear so many masks.
She moved to swing her legs from the bed but screamed before her feet could touch the floor. Snakes piled atop each other as they slithered from all directions. There were so many that it looked more like the roots of a tree writhing about.
Xia pulled her feet back to the safety of her sheets and looked to the Devil standing in his perfectly pressed black button-up.
The bastard was laughing.
Xia looked back to the floor but found nothing. No snakes, only pristine marble.
“You fucking lunatic!” she yelled. His favorite hobby was projecting nightmarish hells to flood her veins with fear.
“Oh, come now, little bird. I needed a snack. It’s been a full week since I’ve tasted your fear.” His smirk made dread curl in her gut.
“You took plenty. Your gluttony truly knows no bounds.”
Xia knew she shouldn’t press her luck with him. She should be dutiful and obedient, but in a world where you have nothing left to lose… Sometimes it felt good to fight back. Even if it was in the most insignificant of ways.
There were times he would punish her for her defiance and, if she were honest, she liked it. Not in a sexual manner, though she knew any other daemon, man or woman, would kill to be in his bed.
Xia liked the reaction to her insubordination. Usually, she felt like she was too small to leave an impact. Like her life, no matter how long, meant nothing. To create a stir so resounding that it required action? Attention?
Sometimes she needed it.
Or, perhaps, she thought she should be punished for the evil sewn inside her heart.
“I don’t have all fucking night, Siren, so move your ass.”
His eyes darkened and her pulse hammered. She moved quickly to the oversized armoire but, when she reached for a garment, a hand stopped and turned her. The movement was so quick and forceful it made her teeth clack.
The Devil stared her down before he spoke, “Times up, princess. Your slutty little gown will have to do.”
“But it’s freezing out there–”
“Move!”
Hissing and clicking sounded from the armoire as bugs of all sizes poured out. Some flew, others slithered, but they were all headed toward her.
Xia shrieked and ran toward the door, the Devil close on her heels. No matter how many fucking times she told her mind it was an illusion, he never failed to induce terror. As was his power, she supposed.
Getting to the private side of her desolate island was a quick trip from her prison. Her rooms were under the island and a quick elevator ride to the top. It bumped slightly along the way but was always a silent trip. Neither one deigned to speak.
When the Oneiroi had invaded Anthemoessa, they torched and ravaged everything in their path. Eventually, their taint infected the core of the land mass and life was incapable of growth. She used to enjoy the dark cave-side they stepped out into. The sound of the waves would reverberate calmly against the rock walls and the sand was as lush as downy feathers against the pads of her feet.
Now the sand was black and sharp, and the waves no longer sang in harmony to the cave. They crashed violently like claps of thunder in the musty space.
She hated it.
Somewhere she used to find solace was now tainted with dread.
