Date with Destiny-Demon Style Ch. 03

"Be right there!"Bath time's over, I guess. Damn it.

She climbed carefully out of the tub, the small drops of water that fell from her skin being quickly sucked into the floor. The air in the room seemed to pull the water from her skin, drying her off without her having to use a towel. Looking around, she noticed that, conveniently, no clothes had been set out for her. She sighed. Crossing the floor, she picked up her lone black robe and threw it on.

Amazing the shortage of clothing around this place.

She made her way across the tile floor, becoming dryer by the second. When she pulled the door open, ever drop of water had been drawn away from her skin and hair. She stared up at a new carrier demon, this one with skin the color of desert sand.

It bowed to her. "Your highness. Your suitors are waiting."

She nodded. Stepping out from the bathroom, she followed the demon back to the massive door. He pushed one of the doors open, bowing his head and motioning for her to enter. She thanked him and stepped inside. Masses of lower ranking demons mulled around inside the chamber.

The room was enormous. Spanning nearly two hundred feet on each of the four walls, she felt dwarfed by its size. Marble columns as thick a redwoods lined the walls, supporting a beautiful -if macabre- stained glass window imbedded into the ceiling. Souls of humans being devoured by demons and chased by hounds filled the glass, but when she peered at the parts of the window that were unstained, her heart stopped.

She could see blue sky.

Her father had told her when she was very young of a place in Hell that had a view of the waking world. She found this hard to believe. It was Hell, after all. A view into her world must be like heaven to the demons and souls trapped down in the raging infernos. To her child's mind, it seemed like a gift from God.

But as she grew older, the joyful idea of a lovely view in the middle of Hell faded. She began to imagine that the window must be a torture in itself. To look up and see the world you could never know again must be more painful than even the sharpest of demon whips.

"Ah! Here she is!" Lucifer's voice rang out in the cavernous room.

Snapped out of her thoughts by that deep voice, Kara shook her head to focus. Turning to find him, she froze in place when she saw that all nine of her suitors were staring at her. She forced a bright smile, watching their faces light up when she did. Only nine princes were here. She smiled inwardly. Darian had been held back for whatever reason, and she hoped he would stay gone.

All nine of the princes continued to smile back. No, theygrinnedback. Like complete idiots who had just discovered a huge secret. Why were they smiling like fools? She shifted uncomfortably and felt a breeze against her skin.

Oh.She'd forgotten all she had to wear was her robe. She was practically naked and her suitors were clearly enjoying the view. Panicked, she pulled the robe tightly around herself, blushing furiously.

Lucifer stepped forward, coming around to her side and placing an arm around her shoulder. Glancing up at him, she could see how religious scholars pegged him as a former angel. Golden eyes, bronzed skin, massive black feathered wings and a flawless physique all heralded back to a time when he must have been too glorious to look at. Not that she felt any attraction to him. He was unearthly beautiful, yes, but she knew far to well the kind of tricks he could pull.

He smiled down at her. "Now, my dear. You've already begun your task to find a husband. You must choose the prince you would like to spend tonight with."

She nodded. Returning her attention to her suitors, she examined each prince carefully, not wanting to make the same mistake twice. They stood at attention, presenting themselves for her view.

First was a young man, no more than twenty, with silver hair and black eyes. The lines of his face were so sharp he was almost hard to look at. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing more than plain grey pants that reached to the floor. He smiled at her, showing normal, non-cannibal teeth. A long, jagged scar trailed diagonally from his hip to his shoulder.

Ouch. That couldn't have felt good.

Next to him was an older prince, perhaps in his thirties, who was wearing a tight black shirt and jeans. His hair was the color of blood, but that wasn't his most defining feature. He was eyeless, the sockets of his face completely empty. He didn't smile. Fear crawled up her spine at the thought of him being toothless as well.

Nope. That's not creepy at all.

The next two were twins. They were no more than twenty-five. Both had long grey hair and mismatched eyes. One had blue and gold, the other grey and green. Pointed ears and cheekbones like razors completed their look. They kept looking at her then back to each other, whispering something and grinning evilly.

Does Tolkien live here? They look like freaking elves from Lord of the Rings.

Next to them was a prince who couldn't have been more than eighteen. White hair and pale blue eyes contrasted against coal black skin. A thick black tail lay on the floor behind him, twitching. He was staring off into nothingness, completely uninterested in the whole situation.

Pass. I'm not into him much, either.

The following two were brothers, though not twins. One had black hair with streaks of blue and had emerald green eyes. His brother had sandy hair and hazel eyes. Both brothers wore the tattered remains of jeans and had bright red script scrawled across their chests. Looking closer, she saw that both had the look of pure mischief in their eyes,

Well, damn. They seem trustworthy, don't they?

Second to the right was a prince who was much younger than the rest. He looked at least sixteen, but she knew all too well that the physical nature of demons was deceiving. Despite his youthful look, he was no younger than two hundred. To make things worse, he bore a striking resemblance to a certain pop star she hated.

Justin Bieber's demon twin. Yep, this is Hell alright.

The last prince in line was the most striking. So striking that she wondered why she hadn't noticed him earlier. Short, chocolate brown hair complemented blue eyes so pale they looked white. A long scar marred his perfectly chiseled face. It cut straight down the middle of his forehead then arced to the left, following the curve of his brow to the corner of his eye where it speared straight down his cheek to his jaw. It looked like the scar Harry Potter had, only worse. Looking past the unfortunate mark, she could see that his beautiful face was severe, like he'd suddenly spotted someone he hated and couldn't wait to take their head off. He wore the destroyed remains of brown pants and nothing else. His body was a natural golden shade, with navy colored designs swirling over his flesh.

A definite maybe. If he could stop looking like he was going to punch someone, he might have a chance.

A strong hand clapped against her shoulder. "So, princess. Which one strikes your fancy this time?" Lucifer's voice snapped her out of her inner thoughts and back into reality.

Chewing her lip, she scanned all of her suitors one last time. She found herself torn between the angry one and the one with the silver hair. Her mind spinning, she resorted to using the most time-honored way of making difficult decisions.

Inny-meeny-miney-mo. Catch a tiger by the toe...

She looked up at Lucifer, swallowing hard. "The one on the far left. With the silver hair."

The demon king grinned. "Very well." He returned his attention to the princes, pointing to her new chosen companion. "Ladrian."

The prince smiled, bowed, then exited the room accompanied by two carrier demons. The other princes hung their heads. Lucifer patted her on the shoulder and walked away. She stood there for a long moment, shifting from one foot to the other. Her father came up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She turned to look at him.

"Did I pick a crazy person?" She bit her lip in worry.

He father shook his head. "Not at all. Ladrian is a fine choice."

Good."Whose son is he?"

"He's the son of Dursoc."

"Dursoc..." She mulled the name around in her head trying to find a connection. "That's...Asmodeus, right? He guards the circle of Lust inDante's Inferno."

Her father ruffled her long black hair. "Very good."

Pride slowly faded to concern. She looked at her father again. "Does he have any quirks I need to prepare for?"

Andrian thought for a moment, the shook his head. "None that I can...Well...."

"Well?" This couldn't be good.

Her father hesitated, then exhaled. "Let's put it this way. He may push you a bit father than you're probably ready to go."

"Meaning?"Get to the damn point!She hated when people danced around things.

"He has a dungeon that's got a bit of a reputation. Remember that we're in Hell, Kara. Having a reputation here isn't exactly a good thing."

"Why is it so notorious?" Her heart rate picked up. "What's he got down there?"

He father shifted, clearly unsure about her reaction. "Shackles, for one thing."

"Oh." She forced a smile. "That's notsobad."

First a cannibal, now a sexual deviant. Shit.

They waited patiently for the other demons to leave the room. When the massive hall was finally empty, Kara and her father turned around and began to walk. She exited the massive chamber hall behind her father, still cloaked in the flimsy black robe. They walked through the massive double doors, making their way down the monstrous hallway to her bedroom. They walked in relative silence, her father's heavy footsteps making the only sounds. But something was gnawing at her gut. She questioned whether she had made another risky choice of suitor tonight. The last one had tried to take a chunk out of her. Her father had said her new consort, Ladiran, had a thing for shackling people to walls. Her gut churned with worry.

"How long before I have to sleep with this one?" She stared at the floor, arms crossed.

"About fifteen minutes." Andrian's deep voice rumbled through the hall.

She nodded. Chewing her lip, she took a deep breath and dared herself to ask the question burning inside. "When we were back there...the one on the end with the scar. Who's he?"

"Lyzander. He's Durionis' boy. His father rules the realm of Gluttony."

"I see..." She trailed off, not wanting to push too far. But curiosity overwhelmed reason. "What...what happened to cause that scar?"

Her father sighed. "No one really knows. He never talks about it. But the story goes that he was wounded by God after killing a priest."

She stared up at her father in shock. "He got that scar for killing a priest?"

Her father nodded, his face grim. "Yes, but some say his punishment was unfounded. They say that God had no reason to admonish him for killing that monk."

She cocked her head quizzically. "Why not?"

"He caught the priest in the middle of raping a young girl. As far as most here are concerned, Lyzander's actions were completely justified."

Speechless, she walked beside her father in silence, staring at the floor again. She felt a tinge of guilt for judging Lyzander so harshly when she first saw him. He had every right to look angry. If he was punished for protecting a little girl...well, damn. He could be angry at anyone, as far as she was concerned.

"Fifteen minutes. Not much I can do in an hour besides eat, piss and get scolded by mom," she mumbled to herself. She sighed. "I hate having to wait for things like this."

"We don't have to wait if you don't want to, princess." A deep voice, musical like the deepest of church bells, echoed around her.

Confused, she stopped. Didn't have to wait? But she had fifteen minutes until she and her new pick got to spend the night together.

"I'm sorry. What do you-"

She cried out in surprise when she was scooped up in strong arms. She could feel two hands cradling her weight: one on her bare hip, the other on her ribcage. Flailing for an instant out of panic, she looked up and saw Ladrian's angelic face smiling down at her. Silver hair cascaded down his shoulders, tickling the skin of her stomach. He grinned like a child opening a present.

"We can start now if you like." His voice was giddy, like he just couldn't wait to whisk her off into his dungeon.

Dungeon.She gulped at the though of being chained to a wall –toanything, really- and shivered slightly.

"Holy shit! Where did you come from?" She swallowed hard, trying to calm her racing heart.

His smile went from ecstatic to secretive, like he was hiding something. "From places you could never imagine, my dear."

"Ladiran." He father's voice was deep, almost a scolding tone. "I know how eager you must be to meet my daughter under such unrestrictive circumstances. But I warn you to exercise patience. Remember that you are not the only one that she must meet."

Ladiran laughed, a light, musical sound that made her stomach clench.

"Strange words of wisdom coming from one who has disregarded the same rules for so long." He cocked his head, giving her father a mocking smile. "Youwerethe one who snuck up to the world and mated with a human, correct?"

Andrian's eyes went wide, then narrowed in anger. Kara groaned on the inside. Her father had a legendary temper; Ladrian was a fool to tempt it.

Continuing his teasing smile, Ladrian shifted her in his arms, pulling her close against his hard chest. She could feel the harsh lines of his jagged scar against her cheek. His skin was chilled, like fresh snow in the mountains. One finger traced her hip bone. Cold as ice, it made goose bumps rise on her flesh.

"But I am not upset with you for that. You broke one of our founding rules, yes. But in doing so you gave us this delicious little thing."

She whipped her head up to stare at him with wild eyes.Shit. Not again!Her body tensed, preparing to launch herself from his grip. If eh was going to devour her like Darian, he'd have a hell of a time trying to do it.

He matched her gaze, his confused for an instant. Then a soft smile crossed his face.

"Oh, my apologies, princess. We all heard about the little parting gift Darian gave you from this morning. I certainly hope it's not too painful. That boy has a reputation for tasting his prey before going in for the kill." He grimaced, his jaw clenching for an instant. "Ruins it for everyone else."

She smiled nervously. Somehow, this one made her more uncomfortable than Darian. He was sweet and gentle, but she could sense something boiling under the surface. As if some volcanic craving hid just beneath his skin, biding its time.

He smiled back at her father. She could feel his body almost vibrating against her own, like a runner anxious for the race to start. She could feel something in her gut, a warning to bail out of his grasp. But before she could, Landrian took off. The man ran like a bullet shot out of a gun barrel. He sped down the halls, moving so fast that the walls, paintings and statues began to bleed together. She had to close her eyes to prevent herself from puking.

Landrian looked back over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Andrian! I'll take good care of her!" he called back to her father. Hoisting herself up to peer over his shoulder, Kara saw her father sanding in the hall, dumbfounded that he had gotten away so fast. Ironically, so was she. She felt like she was tied to the front end of a speeding train, the wind whipping her hair into her face. Landrian's hair flared out behind him, looking like a cape of molten silver.

He ran for what must have been miles, dodging other demons left and right. All the while, he carried her as if she weighed nothing. She found this odd that so many demons could carry her so easily. At a hundred and thirty five pounds, she was by no means a bag of feathers. Yet so many of these demons acted as if she were made of air.

I guess living in Hell means you're used to heavy workloads.

He skidded to s top as they rounded a corner, coming within inches of a carved wooden doorway. She stared wide-eyed at the ornate door handle that brushed against her nose. Without saying a word, he shoved the door open with his shoulder and raced down the steps. His feet echoed of stone walls, sconces flaring to life with the sound. They reached the bottom of the stairs and she looked around in horror.

What she saw reminded her of an old medieval torture chamber. Rusted iron shackles connected to massive stone walls and the ceiling. Blood-stained knives, whips and hooks hung from iron brackets on the walls. Through the dim light, she could see branding irons, metal boots and lengths of thick chain lined up against the walls waiting to be used. The flickering of the sconces gave off an eerie glow, making the already horrifying contraptions even more ghastly. She gulped, her stomach turning.

Buy the Deluxe Torture Set in the next fifteen minutes and we'll throw in a free Pillory!

He set her down on the floor, taking care to hold her so she didn't slip on the moist ground. The cold of the stones under her feet made her shiver. She was still wearing her thin robe, but the flimsy thing wasn't much protection from the damp cold. She drew the robe around herself and rubbed her arms, trying to bring a little warmth to her skin.

"I'm sorry if you're cold. I never notice the temperature down here."

She shook her head. "It's okay. I'm always cold."

"Really?" He cocked his head.

She nodded. "Yeah. If the thermostat drops below seventy, I become a giant baby. I hate the cold."

She watched as he chewed his lip for a moment, contemplating something.

"Would you mind if I got a better look at you? I've only ever seen you from a distance." He looked at her hopefully, his eyes bright.

Startled, she nodded quickly. He grinned, then strode towards her. The power and determination in his steps caught her off guard, causing her to back up involuntarily. He gripped her wrist, steadying her. Helping her regain her balance, he reached toward her and slid his fingers under her robe, slipping it off. Then, without warning, he grasped her wrist again and held it high. Confused, she watched as he reached up with his other hand and fiddled with something. Cold metal surrounded her wrist, locking her in place.

Without giving her a chance to fight back or run, Ladrian grabbed her other wrist and secured it as well. She was trapped now, hanging from metal shackles in the ceiling. The thought of entrapment made the small spark of fear in her gut roar to life. She struggled against her restraints, but the rusted iron wouldn't budge. Sensing her fear, Ladrian reached out and placed his hand on her hips, steadying her.

"Hey. Hey. Calm down. I'm not going to torture you."

She stopped her struggles, staring at him with worried eyes.

He smiled at her. "It's okay. I just wanted to get a good look at you. I won't lift you, alright? I know you're afraid of heights." He slid this palms gently over her hips. "I just want to take a good look, okay?"

She nodded shakily.

He smiled and stepped back, letter his hands slide from her skin. She stood there, trapped in her fetters, heart racing. She closed her eyes, her fear of being judged raising its ugly head once again. She hoped, prayed, that he wouldn't find issue with her form. She knew her body wasn't what he was used to looking at. The full, voluptuous curves of succubae tempted men without fail. Her body was longer and leaner than any succubus, her curves smaller. She bit her lip, waiting silently until his inspection was over.

Something soft wrapped around her head. It covered her eyes, blocking out every ounce of light. And any view of Ladrian.