My head still pounded as I came to. My arms ached above my head, and I tried to put them back down by my sides, only to find I couldn’t make them move. My legs were straight, no longer hanging over the edge of the fiery pit, but they were a bit farther apart than was comfortable. I found I couldn’t move them either.
I opened my eyes and once again found myself in darkness. I turned my head from left to right, and felt the movement of cloth against my face; it was dark because there was some kind of bag over my head.
The back of my body was pressed against something that didn’t feel like the ground I had been on earlier, and the sensation wasn’t lessened by clothing. It was my bare skin against whatever surface I was on.
My heart pounded, and immediately I fought against my restraints. I’d been captured.
“I wouldn’t pull too hard on those restraints, there, Miss,” a man said. He spoke with a British accent, but not the kind that sounded refined: the kind that sounded heavy with alcohol, and wore clothes that hadn’t been washed in some time.
“Right, you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself,” another man chuckled. There was nothing distinct about his voice.
“Don’t want you doing our job for us!” the Brit replied, and the two men laughed heartily.
I froze: I didn’t speak, move, or breathe. These had to be demons.
“We haven’t been able to figure out who you are, or how you got here,” the plain sounding man said. “We were just making our rounds and found you out by the pit. I wanted to just toss you in and be done with it, but Zeke over here said we shouldn’t waste you like that.”
The Brit, whom I now knew as Zeke, spoke up. “We never get to have much fun—’e always sticks us with patrolling the outer areas. But he’s away right now, and you were just too pretty to pass up.”
I could only assume the “he” Zeke referred to was Lucifer.
I thought about telling them Lucifer had given me the OK to come down here and retrieve Raphael’s soul, but I doubted they would believe me. I thought about arguing that I wasn’t a bad person and didn’t belong here. I was sure that would be original.
No, I had read about torture. There were only ever two good reasons for torture: To get information, and for sadistic pleasure. I didn’t have any information to share, therefore it was the second, which was much worse. They just wanted to see my pain and get a reaction out of me. I thought about trying to ignore whatever they were going to do to me, and die again before I made even a peep; but they knew everyone screamed eventually, and would just hurt me worse, faster. Or I could act like I was in agony from the first touch, and hope they never stepped up the intensity. That seemed like such a coward’s choice, but I didn’t see that it really mattered if I was brave right now.
I felt something brush the side of my ribcage, and I screamed—not from pain, but just from the surprise.
“Oy, Jake. She’s a jumpy one! This’ll be fun,” Zeke said.
“Are you not going to talk to us?” Jake asked, and I assumed he must be talking to me.
I remained still and silent.
“Well, you don’t have to talk to us, it’s OK,” he said in the voice you’d use to comfort a crying child.
And then I felt one of them touch me again, and I started screaming.
I didn’t realize how fast vocal chords gave out. My screaming like a banshee at every little poke and pinch had backfired after what seemed like a fairly short amount of time.
They hadn’t raped me, and for that I was thankful. Being naked and left at the hands of demons, I knew things could get so much worse.
I did feel like a strange science experiment. It was like they were asking, What sound does she make if we use this tool, and touch her here? Now what happens there?
I wasn’t physically capable of even making noises now, unless something was shocking or painful—which the demons interpreted as them needing to do worse things.
The bag was still over my face, and I jumped every time I felt one of them come closer. I didn’t know if it would make it better or worse to see what was coming next.
“Let’s get the needles,” Jake said.
“No, the knives,” Zeke argued.
I had a feeling if I threw in my suggestion it would be used against me, so again, I said nothing—not that I could have said anything anyway.
“We need to pace ourselves,” Jake told Zeke. ”If we start with knives, she’ll lose consciousness again, and then we can’t play.”
“Or…” Zeke started as his vile idea formed, “we could just go for it and see what ’appens. I know we wouldn’t get to play as long, but we never get to do the really fun stuff.”
“What were you thinking?” Jake asked with piqued interest.
“Set up the bar, and I’ll grab the hooks,” Zeke said with way too much excitement in his voice. “The knives are already out here.”
I couldn’t listen anymore, couldn’t think about the horrors awaiting me. I drifted off to memories of home, digging in my cemetery, watching over the graves… cooking in the cabin with Ray, and of course, meeting Raphael.
I asked myself if he was worth it. Knowing where my infatuation with him had led me, to this very moment, Would I still do things the same? I wanted to answer that I would, and that Brandon probably would have killed me anyway, but I wasn’t really sure anymore. Is one person, any person who isn’t your own child, worth the eternal torture of your soul?
There was the clanging of metal near me, and I jumped back to the present.
“Make sure it’s together good. We don’t want it falling apart when we get her up there,” Jake said.
“’Ave you done this before?” Zeke asked, sounding a little less self-assured this time.
“Nah, but I’ve watched others do it plenty,” Jake said.
“Doesn’t it take three people?” Zeke asked.
“Shit, yeah it does, unless one of the guys is really strong—’cause two people have to hold them up while other person gets the hooks in just right,” Jake replied.
Hanging by hooks… I swallowed hard. Why did I think I could do this?
“Let’s go get one of the bigger guys to help us, just in case,” Zeke suggested. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”
Apparently that’s what they had decided to do, because I heard them walk away. I struggled at the ropes again, and moved my head violently until I managed to get the hood off. The lighting was dim so it didn’t take more than a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I looked down the line of my naked, bruised body, and sighed.
Just a few feet away was a table set up with the tools and torture implements they had used (or were planning to use) on me. On the other side was what I could only compare to a heavy duty clothes rack, with large, sharp metal hooks over the top bar. I thought of feeling those hooks sink into my flesh, and it made me gag.
I pulled harder than ever on the restraints, and could see now that the restraints were made from tiny wires made into a flexible metal rope. The wires scratched and pinched and cut into my skin, feeling Iike I had scrubbed it raw with a combination of steel wool and insulation.
A soft sob escaped my lips, and I bit my tongue until I tasted blood to quiet myself. They would be back any minute with another demon. If I had any hope of escape, this might be it. I thought of Grace and Ray and all of my friends, and promised myself that if I got away, I would get back to them, Raphael or no Raphael. I would break my wrists, if I had to, to get out of these restraints. But my arms were stretched to their max, and no matter how I moved, I couldn’t get the right leverage to pull hard enough.
“Look at you, trying to be all sneaky,” Jake said.
Zeke made a “tsk-tsk” sound, and shook his finger at me.
They didn’t seem to care that I could see them now. I, however, was shocked to see that both of my tormentors were, pardon the expression, but, “sexy as Hell.” Never having been good at hiding my emotions, the demons regarded my shock with amusement.
&n
bsp; “Never seen a demon before?” Jake asked. His skin was the color of dark chocolate, and his eyes were pale jade green; braids hung down his back, and he was shirtless.
“Well, you’re certainly not what I expected a demon to look like,” I said, breaking my long silence. My voice had already started to recover, since it had been a few minutes since I had last screamed; my throat still felt scratchy, though.
These two had sounded like bumbling idiots while I was under that hood. If these were the lesser demons, I wondered what the important ones looked like. Of course, more important didn’t necessarily mean prettier or smarter—just like they didn’t have to be the brightest bulbs in order to hurt me, and look good while they did it.
Zeke stepped a little closer and grinned. He was no less appealing than his friend, though not quite as tall; Zeke had pretty blue eyes that reminded me of new denim jeans. He was built like a boxer, with a gristly upper body, short brown hair, and a five o’clock shadow. He looked young and feisty, and if I hadn’t just been tortured by them, I might have flirted.
“Demons get a bad wrap for being ugly and monstrous, but those are a particular type of demon: the ones that possess people. They are ugly little fuckers,” Zeke said.
“Just waiting for our help, and we’ll get started,” Jake assured me, like I was being impatient.
They didn’t seem to dislike me. This wasn’t personal: it was just what they knew—what they did. I understood that, but it didn’t make me feel any better about what was coming next.
I heard the other demon’s footsteps coming towards us. I looked over at the metal rack and hooks awaiting me. I closed my eyes and tried to remind myself that this wasn’t going to kill me, it would only hurt, and pain never lasts forever.
“Have you flayed the arms yet?” I heard the new guy ask.
I shut my eyes tight to keep the room from spinning; my stomach turned, and I fought not to throw up.
“Please don’t,” I squeaked. I never imagined myself as the kind of person who would beg sadistic torturers for mercy (which was very stupid), but I couldn’t help myself.
The new demon had his back to me, and stood farther away than the other two. I saw the glint of a silver blade as he held it up to examine the shape and sharpness. At my pathetic plea, he turned around and walked over to me. My eyes were unfocused with fear, and the shadows that filled the room, so I didn’t see that it was Raphael until he was leaning directly over me, searching my face. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail so that his face was clean and defined. Like the other demons, he wore black pants and no shirt—and his eyes, those deep ocean blue eyes I wanted to drown in, were staring directly into mine. He was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
I knew my eyes widened when I realized it was him, but I didn’t know if I should call him by his name, or make it known that I knew him. His face stayed completely unreadable as he stood over me, and I had no idea whether or not he recognized me. How long had it even been at this point?
He narrowed his deep blue eyes at me, and held the knife just in front of my face. “Please don’t,” he repeated, mocking my words and the sound of my voice. “If we don’t open your arms up, how are we supposed to hang you up by your tendons and ligaments?”
I managed to turn my head just enough to miss vomiting on both of us. Hot tears streamed down my face, and I refused to say another word. I closed my eyes and turned my head away from Raphael, unable to watch if he was really going to hurt me in such a way.
“Let me do it,” Zeke said, sounding like a little kid who wanted a turn playing with the big boys. He held out his hand for the knife.
“Well if he gets to do one arm, I want to do the other,” Jake chimed in.
This is not the way I fantasized about three sexy men fighting over me.
Raphael hesitated for a moment, and then handed the knife over to Zeke. My heart sank.
I felt the tip of the knife pierce the tender flesh just below my hand, and I gasped. Quickly I bit down on my lip to keep from letting myself make another sound. Fuck the pain, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of one more whimper.
The knife cut through my skin easily, but not painlessly. Tears flowed down my face and dripped off of my chin.
“Wait,” Raphael said, and Zeke stopped cutting, but still left the blade under my skin. “Where are your plans to catch the blood? You know if Lucifer finds out you did this and didn’t at least save her blood for an offering…” He trailed off, letting them imagine the consequences for themselves.
I opened one eye to see what was going on. Jake and Zeke looked concerned.
“Yeah, man, he’s right. We need to get a pan,” Jake agreed.
“I’ll stay here and make sure she doesn’t escape, and hold pressure on the wound until you get back. That way none of it is wasted,” Raphael assured them.
I stared at him, wondering who he was helping. He didn’t look at me once, so I tried not to get my hopes up.
The other two demons cursed, and Zeke wiped my blood off of his hands on a nearby towel.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Jake told us.
“Go to the lower pits—their pans are less likely to spill,” Raphael suggested.
Zeke nodded, and off they went.
Raphael had wrapped a towel around my wrist, and was holding it tightly so that my apparently precious blood didn’t splatter on the floor. Once the other demons were out of sight, he looked around to make sure we were alone.
“Hel,” he whispered looking down at me. He leaned in quickly and his mouth was on mine. I growled and turned away from him, terrified.
He pulled back and held his hands up in front of himself to show he meant no harm. His face showed total horror and embarrassment, and he gasped, “Oh God, I’m so sorry! Of course you didn’t want me to kiss you. I was just so happy to see you. Can I get you out of here?”
Even I had been surprised at my violent reaction to his kiss. I had wanted him to kiss me, more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life, before today—before I found out he was a demon. Now I wasn’t sure I wanted him to touch me; but the others would be back, and my chance would be gone.
“Get me out of here,” I said.
“I have to touch you to get you loose. It might hurt,” he warned.
I nodded in understanding, and my eyes followed his movements as he undid the restraint on one arm. I only winced for a second, but that was my good arm. As he moved to the one with the wound, I whimpered, and knew my face didn’t hide the pain that ran through me.
“I am so sorry,” he said, as he freed my wrist and tied the towel back around it.
I didn’t know what to say to him, so I sat up and started working to get my ankle free from the next set of restraints; Raphael worked on the other.
Once I was free, he stood in front of me and offered me his hands to help me off of the table where I had been laying for so long.
Reluctantly, I put my hands in his and let him help me stand. I hated that I was naked, but not once did Raphael’s eyes wander away from my eyes while he was helping me, and if they did, it was only to assess my injuries.
My legs gave way the moment my weight was on them. I came crashing down nearly to the floor before Raphael’s arms caught me.
“You’ll have to let me carry you,” he said.
I shook my head adamantly. “No.”
“I understand, and once I have you somewhere safe, you don’t ever have to see or speak to me again, if you hate me. But Hel, I lost you once to a really bad person. Don’t make me watch it happen again.” Raphael’s eyes were full of pain.
“OK,” I said, and wrapped my arms around his neck as he scooped me up. I fought the urge to put my head on his shoulder as he carried me. I thought about what he said. Do I hate him? Is it even possible for me to hate him?
I didn’t have a clue where we were in relation to where I came in, or even where I had fallen. It wasn’t totally dark down here, but it wasn’t far off
. Hell glowed like smoldering coals left in the fireplace, with areas of darkness and pinpoints of hot light.
I recognized the pit I had almost tumbled into as we walked by it, and the flames jumped to life again. I wondered if Lucifer had it on a motion-sensor, or if it was a natural cycle, like a geyser.
Embers flew in front of my eyes, and I ducked my face in against Raphael’s neck. He held me even more tightly, and whispered to me, “Shh, I won’t let anything else hurt you, I promise.”
Tired and still in pain, I finally let my head rest on his shoulder, my lips lightly touching his neck, and I breathed him in. It had been so long since I had known the safety of his arms, since I had smelled the sweetness of his skin. I let out a long relaxed breath, and felt him sigh.
In this moment, I didn’t care what he was or how he came to be here. He was still my Raphael: the one I had risked everything to find.
A quiet laugh escaped my lips.
Raphael looked down at me as he continued to carry me. “What could possibly be amusing right now?”
“I came here to rescue you,” I chuckled.
I saw the smile spread across his face and reach his eyes. “Did you really?”
I nuzzled his neck. “Yep. I never stopped trying to find you.” I yawned, “How much farther until we’re in your safe place?”
“Just a little ways to go, sweetheart. Just rest,” he soothed.
I couldn’t believe I wanted to sleep. I wasn’t out of danger yet, and the towel around my arm was wet with my blood. Raphael was carrying me through Hell, and yet, I slept.
I had vague memories of a hidden room, and Raphael gently laying me down on the bed. Sleep held me tightly for a long while, but when it finally let me out of its grasp, I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Raphael’s.
“Hi, there,” I smiled, feeling much more like myself than in the previous hours.
Digging to Hell (The Gravedigger Series Book 3) Page 8
