Pushing myself up from my chair, my claws dig into the leather, leaving deep lacerations down the curved arms. I loom over the demons, my black serpents emerging from the fiery black pit and slithering smoothly up my legs to wrap themselves around my shoulders and waist. Their glowing red eyes slant as they glare at the three failures in front of us. With just a thought, the serpents do as I say, flicking their tongues menacingly toward the pitiful demons. Their unified hiss echoes to the end of the realm.
“Tell me what happened after you foolishly tossed her into the lake. Why are you here and yet she is not?” As I unleash my words they drip with venom, corrupting the air and invading their lungs with its sweet promise of death.
My venom is more potent than my serpents, though they are a pleasant weapon to have. The slow, painful demise it brings to those deserving of it is a lovely sight to see. In my experience, I have found that most deserve it. While I take pride in my role as queen, the power it offers here in the Underworld, the demons unwavering obedience cannot quench my constant desire for more. If there is any hope for me left, if I do not die by the hands of my god, the day will come when my darkness envelops the realms. Not His. Mine. If I am allowed to live once this is all over, then he will suffer for what he has done to me. I only need to bide my time.
As the effects of my venom slowly set in, the demons gasp and blink up at me in motionless horror. At first, there is partial paralysis.
“He came for her, my queen,” the first demon whispers, his raspy voice filled with fear and a desperate understanding that the end is near.
“Who came for her? That pathetic celestial, Kairos?” Kneeling, I laugh, cupping the hellhounds rough, scaly chin between my fingers.
My sharp talons leave a path of destruction as I rake them across his thick skin, leaving searing, gaping wounds to forever mark his wretched face. Thick, black blood oozes out and stains my fingers, and slowly I bring them to my lips and into my mouth, savoring the taste of the panic and fear excreted from its veins.
They know their impending doom awaits.
“No! Not him. H-He took her. We never could have stopped him, my queen. Please grant us forgiveness!” The second demon cries, his pleas drowned out by the piercing wails as darkness envelops the three of them completely and they begin to scream.
Blindness. The second gratifying effect of my venom has kicked in.
Each rattling scream is a crescendo of music to my ears, the wails crashing together and forming a hauntingly beautiful melody. They are now condemned to a lifetime of blindness unless I choose to restore their sight. I have no intention of doing such a thing.
I push my shoulders back as I stand, running my fingertips down the slick, smooth skin of my serpents, anger seething within my chest. The calm and deadly approach is getting me nowhere and I am growing bored of looking at them.
“Who took her!?” My shouted words have the demons in the fiery pit clawing at the walls and reaching toward the surface, preparing to barrel out and tear them apart themselves if asked to. “Speak now or prepare for death!” I roar with such intensity that even the celestials in the realms above might hear.
I hope they do. I hope they tremble in fear from the sound of my voice alone. I am but the monster they made me. The villain the gods created to keep secrets buried in the dark and truths from ever seeing the light of day. The fallen orphan daughter who wears the crown and disgraces them still.
The fire blazing in my palms sends the army of demons scattered throughout the realm flinching and covering their faces, fearful of the dark brilliance of its light and the searing intensity of heat that they are aware I have no qualms using against them. The kneeling, blubbering fools at my feet cannot see the flames, but I am certain they feel my inferno of outrage inching closer. Their backs arch, straining against the invisible force of my venom as paralysis embeds itself deeper into their muscles. Useless imbeciles.
The demon who pushed the girl into the lake sobs, his cries grating against my skin. “It was Him, my queen. Our god who we must answer to. Your father has taken her. He only left us alive because he wanted you to kill us yourself. He said if you were distracted with killing us,” he wheezes, spitting a mouthful of his own vile blood on the dirt, “then it would be too late for you to get to her.”
“He is not my father! He is nothing to me!” My body trembles as I prepare for the familiar feel of his power tearing into my thoughts to subdue my truth and fury, or the deep, disappointed tone of his voice warning me to keep quiet if I would like to stay in control of my body. But it never comes.
Relaxing back into my chair, I take a deep breath as the tremors settle and the anger slowly drifts away, focusing again on the three demons in front of me. As much as I despise the creatures, I do find beauty in the way their black tears cascade down their revolting faces. I push my shoulders back and cross my legs, gazing out at the crumbling pillars and temples in the distance, a city once thriving and blessed now fallen and forgotten. I silently contemplate what should be done. He stole the one thing I had left to use against him. Against all of them for that matter. I pull off my crown, the thin metal bending in my palms as I crush it and rip it apart, dropping the broken, jagged pieces at my feet. The power of the crown once excited me. Not any longer. I do not need the crown when my curved horns strike fear into hearts enough alone.
The demons who failed me shake violently with convulsions, dark foamy bubbles spilling over from their lips and sliding down their cheeks. Gurgling sounds fill the air as black blood oozes from their eyes and nostrils, their lungs filling with it rapidly as their internal organs are seared to nothing. Every orifice will drain until there is nothing left. As they turn to dust on the ground, the third effect of my venom has set in…death. Disgusting creatures.
My work for the day is done. There is nothing left to do but wait for our savior, our god, our puppeteer who keeps us all attached to his short strings, to bring her to me. He will if he knows what is good for him. It was part of our deal. I keep quiet. I do as he says. I stop fighting against his control in my head and relinquish myself to him entirely. Therefore, I get the girl, and in turn, my vengeance. I did everything he asked. I slaughtered her parents. I ordered the demons to end her pitiful, sad life. She. Belongs. To me. If my god would like to play dirty, to go back on his word, well then, I suppose I must do the same. I will not play along with his little games any longer. I will get what he has promised me even if he must die in the process. Even if I must. I do not care. I have nothing left to lose. Running my fingers along the amulet around my neck, the one with the swirling colors within a sea of darkness, the necklace the girl cares so much about, I smile. She will come for it eventually. She craves the truth like I crave the use of her power to shatter the current realms and create a new one.
They will all pay for what they have done as I ascend to a realm of my own and watch each of theirs fall.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sweet Numbness
NORA
My eyes flutter open, and I squint to see through the blinding darkness. Candles flicker all around the large room, but the black flames hold such a small amount of light within their center that all I see are swaying shadows. It’s like the black flames are holding the light within them hostage, refusing to let it shine. Darkness devours it. Sitting upright, the velvety sheets are warm beneath my fingertips as I quickly throw off the covers and try to stand, but there’s a heaviness weighing me down. Reaching over my shoulder, my fingertips brush against smooth feathers and thick cartilage, and I gasp. I’m a celestial. No. Something more.
I stand and the hardwood floor groans beneath my bare feet, the chill in the air biting at my skin, and though normally I would curl into myself or shiver from the cold, I don’t mind it. Do immortals not feel things the way humans do? I never thought to ask. Here it’s like all my senses are on the verge of numbness, even fear in this moment feels far away. I’m not scared. Right now, the only thing that matters is figuring out if I am in fact in The Underworld, which judging by the darkness that has seemed to swallow me whole, I’m pretty damn sure that I am. I died. This is what I wanted. Now I need to figure out how the hell to get to Nyx.
My wings cast a beautiful shadow on the wall as I spread them wide and stare in awe. Gods, shadows really are all that exist here. There’s a shadow of a bed, a shadow of a bathroom on the opposite side of the room, and a shadow of a door that I assume leads out of this huge room that’s nearly the size of my entire house. I carefully tiptoe across the room to make my way to the door. I need to see what’s out there, but I also need to be careful not to let them see me before I want them to. It could be Nyx or more of her demons on the other side of that door. They could be waiting for me to wake up to begin torturing me all over again. Although fear doesn’t course through my veins the way it probably should, my heart does beat faster and louder than I’d like it to. Fuck, they’re going to hear it.
A shadow moves in my peripheral vision, and I freeze. “Hello?” I call out, peering into the darkness.
Why the hell are there no lights? What I wouldn’t give for the hellscape of orange flames humans picture when thinking of this place to be real right now. I just need even one bright flame. The black ones aren’t enough.
“Nora,” A gentle, low murmur comes from behind me, and I slowly turn around to face the voice. “Please do not panic,” the comforting timbre in his voice soothes my anxious mind.
