Big Eyes, Small Mouth (BESM): Nexus Earth - [Fic] The Book of Pain [Complete]

[z-Skye the Fallen]

The Book of Pain

... or dying inch by endless inch.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Skye fell. Sometimes, she fell sideways, and sometimes down; once or twice, she was sure she was falling up, as if the rules of physics had decided to give up. Everything hurt, a blistering pain that screamed along all her nerves. The violent, blood-red color around her bled into ebon, leaving Skye;s silver nimbus the only source of light in a black world.

Then it changed again. She was falling, truly falling. She wasn’t sure where she was going to land; she saw blooms of red and flashes of a dark object shining. She snapped her fans open, and in a burst of silver light, she began to slow down. She wasn’t sure where she was landing, but those red glows were coming from something, and she’d land on that something soon. She just slowed her flight as much as possible. There was the sense of something slipping past her, like if she were falling by a building. But she didn’t see anything like lights.

The ground was a shock; she was falling slowly but still stumbled when her feet connected with it. With a grunt, she staggered and landed flat on her face. “Ow,” she grumbled, pushing herself to her feet and looking around.

Skye had expected for the air to be thick with smoke, but she hadn’t expected it to be cold or so dark. After the blinding light of dawn, this night seemed deep and endless. Something screamed not far from her, and Skye’s fans snapped wider reflexively. Shivering, she waited for her eyes to adjust.

Slowly, a red glow filled her vision to her right, and she looked that way, finding herself in a narrow corridor. It was the only light and she crept toward it, walking as carefully as she could to avoid making any noise. Her feet felt massively clumsy; garbage and detritus rattled and snapped as she stepped. Wincing at each noise, Skye crept toward that ruby light. Some part of her needed the light, needed to see. The darkness stole her will to be still and remain silent.

Something – a creature both gross and monstrous – passed by the entrance of the corridors. Skye couldn’t contain the gasp that slipped out of her lips. A second later she recovered, thinking, Dummkoph! You’re in Hell, that was a demon! Drawing a deep breath to fortify herself was a mistake – she was racked with a spasm of coughing as the noxious, cold air invaded her lungs.

“What do we-”

Skye reacted without thought. She didn’t look to see what was behind her before lashing out with her fans; the voice alone told her it was some foul demonic presence. “Wrath of the Northern Wind!” she cried, mindless of the fact that she should probably be quieter. A gust of wind, pure and clear, burst from the edge of the fan and threw shards of ice at the demon standing there. The creature was frozen in place, wailing in pain.

Pain sliced into her, and Skye yelped as the blurred snap from its tail opened a line of crimson on her leg. With a snarl, she repeated her attack, fully encasing the demon in ice. Pressing a hand to her leg, Skye turned toward the entrance of the corridor, stumbling to a stop when she saw the ten-foot tall thing standing in the opening. It was chubby and round, humanoid only in the vaguest sense. Long tentacles hung where it’s face would be, curling over and around its sloping shoulders. Its gray skin was scaled in places and furred in others. It was so horrifying that it took Skye a long moment to realize it holding a stuffed toy and was wearing diapers. The thing pulled a tentacle out of a hole in roughly the same place as a mouth, pointed the slimed appendage at Skye and said, “Miamia! Hu-hu!”

Skye didn’t need a degree in Demonic Language to know she’d just been outted. Before she could move, Mama looked around the corner. Skye almost didn’t see her, because her head was around thirty feet above the ground. But it looked just like the big guy Skye was slowly realizing was the little guy, though when Mama stepped further into the corridor, Skye saw pendulous furred and scaled breasts.

As if she hadn’t seen enough things that she could never unsee.

Turning, Skye bolted, running as fast as she could, guided only by her own silver light. A roaring shout tore through the darkness behind her and somehow Skye found more speed. She ran only a short distance before she saw ruddy light again; with a grin of relief, she headed toward it.

She burst out of the corridor onto a wider area between two glossy black barricades. Skye stumbled to a stop as she suddenly understood: this was a demonic city made of something shiny and black. The street she was on was fairly busy, teeming with clumps of demons of various shapes and sizes. It stretched on and on, to either side.

Aghast, Skye stared at the surrounding city. How was she supposed to find Kazuo in this mess? A scream from down the street jarred her into motion. Realizing that her forcefield was lighting her up like a target, she dropped it and raced across the street, ducking into the next alley. The darkness was welcome sanctuary for her.

Save yourself, then find Kazuo, she ordered as she disappeared into the ebony concealment.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Skye pressed herself into a doorway as forms rushed by on the cross street. In tandem, what looked like giant bats flew overhead. Neither group seemed to see her, and Skye relaxed a little. There were other waves of hunters looking for her, but she could only deal with what was right in front of her.

She’d been here hours, and there was no sign of Kazuo. Maybe he’d been taken prisoner as well; maybe he was dead. You haven’t really had a chance to look, either, she chided herself. Don’t give up hope. She couldn’t even get upset over the thought that he was dead; it was Kazuo and Skye had already seen him claw his way back from what looked to be dead. She was more worried about the suffering he might be enduring. That’s what she was here to save him from.

There also had been no sign of a dawn, and Skye realized she hadn’t seen a single green, growing thing. That made her realize fully just how alien this world was; it didn’t follow the laws she knew. “This just gets better and better.” Knowing that the sun wasn’t coming was like cutting off more hope. She’d been looking forward to being able to see, even at the increased risk of exposure.

She sighed and looked around the side street sheltering her. It wouldn’t work for long; she needed a real hiding place. She didn’t spot a good place around here, but she did see something else. Looking around carefully before stepping out of her doorway she dashed over and grabbed the dark cloth lying on the ground. It stank, but it was big enough to wrap around her nearly-white hair and pale blue shirt.

Feeling a bit safer, Skye headed to her left; all other directions were meaningless to her now. She chose a path perpendicular to the search party and began walking. She gave the more populated areas a wide berth, keeping to the secondary streets. She hoped there wasn’t a rush hour when a lot of demons would be leaving their abodes. She was able to avoid the small groups though circuitous routes.

She wasn’t afraid of fighting them. But she knew, thanks to her divine magic, that using her powers would draw them to her. Once the fighting started, it wasn’t stopping until she was dead. She knew she couldn’t take on all of Hell. So she needed to be careful and find Kazuo, then bring down all of Hell on their heads.

Something made a noise behind her, a sound between a giant zipper and a hissing scream. Skye spun, her eyes wide in the darkness. What the hell was that?! She waited and stared around; months of demon hunting even had her looking up, contrary to most people. But nothing presented itself as a threat. Nervously, she shivered and turned her attention forward, figuring out how to cross a busy intersection without being seen. She had to time it carefully, and when her moment came she wasted no time moving.

The sound came again behind her when she was halfway across.

Skye hunched her shoulders and her hands tightened around the fans. She wasn’t going down without a fight. The remaining distance across the yard was one of the hardest sprints she’d ever done. When she reached the other side, she turned, ready to defend herself. But there was nothing there, nothing to fight. Cursing in angry German, she ducked into an alley, waiting for whatever it was to reveal itself. She wanted to put up her forcefield so badly it was like a physical craving. But that’d turn her into a target, and she resisted the urge, somehow.

She wasn’t sure how long she crouched in that alley, ignoring the foul stench and waiting tensely. But no one can remain that hyper-vigilant, and slowly Skye relaxed. Was her mind playing tricks with her? Or was something else?

After she’d lingered to be sure she wasn’t being followed, Skye turned and started walking again. Gradually, her mind turned to major problem she faced: finding Kazuo and getting out of here. Technically, that was two problems, but she decided to focus on the first one. The second was moot until she’d solved the first.

Skye was aware of just how deep she was swimming in shit. She was trapped in hell, without friends or allies, surrounded by beings that would as soon kill her as look at her. She didn’t know that she was very wrong: they had plenty of other things on the list besides kill her.

The noise came again as she dug through some refuse, driven by an empty stomach to try to find food. She was scared that it would trap her there forever, like that story she read about in school, but she couldn’t stop herself. Water had come from condensation collecting on everything, usually just before freezing. She had plenty of water, if she didn’t mind licking a few statues. It was the food that was becoming the issue.

But the noise interrupted her search and she spun to stare at the thick shadows that surrounded her. She resisted the urge to loudly demand that her follower or followers reveal themselves. Fortunately, she was smarter than that and kept her mouth shut. She waited tensely, her nerves screaming from the on again and off again nature of her tension. She waited longer than before, what she was sure was thirty minutes, listening. Just as she was about to move, she heard it again. Spinning toward the noise, she ignited her forcefield. All she saw was the eternal darkness, and with a curse, she shut down the field, praying nothing had felt her.

In that second after she dropped her field, when she was paused, listening, was when it attacked. The darkness surged forward as if alive, because it was. Skye shrieked as it wrapped around her legs, pinning them completely. She could feel the bulbous mass press against her and then under her clothes. As the pretty teen gave fully into her panic, she felt it pushing into her body. Nothing she did stopped it, and her screams only gave it access to the inside of her mouth. Skye began to gag on the foul black ooze as the pressure of the invading demon increased. Skye passed out, sure that she was about to die from dual explosion-implosion in Hell.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

It hurt, a lot. And it was everything. Even her hair, not her scalp, but her hair hurt. That last was probably imagination, but it felt like it. Skye came awake slowly, shivering and naked on the floor. She lay there a moment, trying to remember what the hell had happened. Had she gotten wasted with Kazuo again, only to have something go terribly wrong?

Kazuo…

As her memory rushed back, Skye jerked into full consciousness. She immediately cried out at how much just that slight movement hurt. She pushed herself upright and took a better look at herself, noting the iron collar leashing her to the wall of her prison. Bruises covered her; scratches and bite marks decorated the bruises like obscene accents. Just seeing that brought back further memories, the memories of what the demons who had caught her had done to her. Painfully, she drew her knees to her chest and shivered, freezing cold.

There was a dim light coming from around the door, allowing her to see that she was in a cell. The walls were made of black glass, their reflective nature refracting light around the room further than stone could. “’Bout right. Attack me and imprison me,” she muttered, trying to feel brave as she studied the black glass walls and iron door. “Ficken demons.”

For a long time, she was left alone. Her moment of false bravo fled as her recall of her events since her capture became clearer. The demons were sick, filthy creatures, and they didn’t often get a treat such as a young human girl to play with. She sat very still, as if she could hide from them by not moving. She didn’t even think; she just huddled and waited. In shock, she didn’t even feel the urge to cry. Eventually, the door opened and some food was thrown at her. She ate it ravenously, despite its suspect nature. When that was done, there was nothing else for her to do except to wait.

She had been in shock before the food had arrived. But with that in her stomach, a semblance of reason returned to her. Slowly, she became aware of a silvery voice, whispering to her. Skye, you are not alone.

Smiling, Skye reached out spiritually to the source of her power, her goddess’ presence filling her with light and peace. Her hurts faded, the pain soothed by her goddess’s presence. A silver glow began to fill the room, emanating from her body. It reflected off the black glass, lighting up the room still more, making it seem almost warm, nearly pleasant.

Skye relaxed against the wall, smiling serenely. Even the pounding feet of approaching demons didn’t interrupt her tranquility. The door slammed open, and one of the three barked, “Stop that!”

“No,” Skye told them, happy she had a way to spite them. “I don’t care if you don’t like it. I’m not stopping.”

“Shut it down, or we’ll make you shut it down.” The three stepped into the room, clenching their fists and readying their weapons.

Skye rose unsteadily to her feet, a crooked smirk on her face. “Bring it.”

The fight was short; she didn’t have her fans and she’d never learned to defend herself without them. But as they clobbered her into unconsciousness, Skye knew she’d won anyway.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

What Skye had thought was the war was a minor skirmish. She’d won, but they weren’t going to just walk away from their defeat. They brought in the big guns next.

“Hello, Skye.” The voice chilled her to the bone; Skye froze, staring at the floor. Of course, he was here. She’d sent him here, along with his siblings.

“Henry,” she whispered, lifting her head slowly. It was his voice, but not him; this was how he must truly look. He was still painfully beautiful, but no one would think he was a high school boy with his red skin, his coal-black eyes and the other demonic features. Black wings curled inward slightly, as if to shelter his shoulders from her holy glow. Coiling ebony horns rose above his head, while grit on the floor crunched under his cloven hooves.

“You are so pathetic, Skye,” he murmured, moving to crouch before her. Skye pulled back from him, more afraid of him just talking, than she was of all demons who had visited her to date. “You had won and were safe and free of it all, and yet here you are? And why? Chasing after that winged runt. Tell me – why the loyalty? Did he finally put it to you?”

“Why are you asking me questions that you can take the answer to easier than asking?” Skye asked, refusing to take his bait. She noted that her voice shook, and she hated that, but she also didn’t know how to stop it.

“Because I’m evil, and I like watching you trying not to react,” he said. He shook his head, his brown hair dancing around his horns. “But what are you thinking, coming here? Didn’t you know I’d be here, waiting for you?”

“I didn’t give you a single thought,” Skye said despite her resolution to remain quiet. She said it because it was true, and because it was an insult to him. All she could think about was Kazuo, and getting him back; the fact that Henry would be there hadn’t come up at all. It should have been something she thought of, but she hadn’t actually planned out her trip to Hell very well.

“You should have,” he told her, as if he were echoing her thoughts. “You should have known that I would be waiting.”

Skye shrugged, thought her palms sweated and her voice shook like a sapling in a storm. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” she sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t. You weren’t important enough to consider.”

Now that was a lie, and he laughed at her for it. “Trying to be brave now? Your timing is appalling, Skye. No matter. I’ve been sent here to tell you something amusing: news of you is reaching across the realm. You are now Lord Orcorli’s gift to give to whomever he pleases.” As Skye silently begged Luna that it wouldn’t be to Henry, he laughed bitterly. “No, not me, dearest Skye. I am out of favor now, and giving you to me would be a waste of a fine, delicious gift such as yourself. But I have something for you. Two things actually.”

“Keep your damned ‘gifts’,” Skye growled. She felt bolder, now that he had told her that she wouldn’t be his prisoner. She knew what he would do; he would core out elements of her personality, her very being, and leave nothing behind of her.

“No, Skye, you have no right to dictate my actions,” he snarled, the obsidian beneath his hooves squealing as he ground them into it. “So here is my first gift: live in pain.”

Skye blinked, horror slow to fill her, but flooding in as the first cramp started in her gut. She fought back a groan successfully, but he saw the struggle in her face. He laughed as the pain increased, powerful and without source, robbing her of the ability to hide its effects on her. Her arm was over her belly as it felt like someone sliced her open, leaving her gasping. A second later, her legs felt like they were on fire. A moment after that, her lungs compressed painfully, making it hard to draw breath at all. And throughout it, he laughed at her.

“Fick dich,” she managed to gasp, but nothing more as something clawed at her tongue. There was nothing there, but her brain couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

“And my last gift for you – to tell you that you made yourself a prisoner for nothing,” Henry told her coldly, the glee malicious in his voice. “Your dear Kazuo is dead. I heard it from the demon who did it, in person, just to be sure.”

“You’re… wrong,” Skye gasped, struggling against the pain to speak. “He’s… alive.”

“If this is love, thank Orochi that we are not infected with it,” Henry sneered before leaving the cell.

“This… isn’t love,” Skye gasped, though she was alone. “This is… truth.” Mere demons couldn’t kill Kazuo. He was alive; Henry had lied to steal her hope. But she had faith, and would keep it until someone dragged his rotting corpse before her.

Another fire burned through her, eating away at her insides, and Skye lost her train of thought. All else was washed away but the pain that tore her apart. “Luna…” she begged, shuddered on the floor of the cell. Consciousness deserted her before she could finish the prayer.

Click to reveal..

fick dich – fuck you

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Time lost any meaning. The pain rendered it unimportant. Skye couldn’t think about anything other than the agony that coursed through her body. At some point, food was brought but she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t even see the guards for the tears in her eyes.

She stopped caring when they brought her food. Sometimes, she managed to eat some of it but most of the time she couldn’t swallow. By the time the pain eased enough for her to try the food had been carried off by rat-like creatures. The guards never spoke to her or attempted to touch her. They didn’t even linger to look at her – though she guessed that by now, she was a filthy, greasy mess.

When that routine changed, Skye wasn’t immediately aware of it. She huddled on herself, shivering and trying to hold onto the bliss of Luna. It wasn’t easy and took most of her attention. When something shoved her, Skye was jarred out of her reverie. She looked up to see a female demon looking down at her. “I told you to get up,” the demon said, giving Skye another poke with her staff.

Skye nodded and rose. There was no question of fighting; all of her effort went to not doubling over with pain. She peered at the demon who was studying her, seeing a woman with reddish skin and black hair. Her skin was speckled with golden scales and covered by a black dress. She stood at least two feet taller than Skye and was attractive in her own way with long limbs and an athlete’s build. “They haven’t treated you very well,” the demon said without emotion or censure at the guards. “Come along then.”

Skye blinked and rasped, “Out of the cell?”

The demoness arched a midnight eyebrow. “We can drag you out.”

“I’ll walk,” Skye replied. The demoness nodded and headed for the door without waiting to see if Skye was following. The chain in the demoness’ hand jerked her collar taut and Skye realized it was the one that had been holding her to the wall. She hadn’t even heard the red-skinned creature unchain it from the wall. You have to wake up, Skye told herself. Fight through the pain. The haggard priestess staggered after her captor, sure that the demoness would drag her by her collar if she didn’t keep up.

They left the prison, climbing several flights of stairs. At each landing was a door, but Skye didn’t even wonder what they were. Just putting one foot above the other was an effort. At the top of the stairs, there was a small room and a heavy door. Her captor led her through it, to a courtyard. For the first time in a long time, Skye was outside again.

It wasn’t much to get excited about truthfully. Outside wasn’t much different than inside; the walls of the city were black obsidian and there was still no sunlight. The stars, when Skye could see them, were a sickly gray color. Worst of all, there was no moon, leaving Skye feeling bereft. Her captor met up with three other demons that dressed like her and Skye realized that they were wearing tunics, not a dress. One of them handed the demoness a helmet and they exchanged brief sentences. The four of them formed a diamond around the human and began to walk through the city.

Skye wished they’d given her a cloak or a blanket, but she was sure that the demons didn’t recognize prisoner’s rights. Or even the concept basic courtesy. Pointing out that shortcoming seemed like a bad idea. She tolerated the stares from the bystanding demons, surprised there weren’t any shouts or attempts to touch her, either. It didn’t dawn on her that the demons leading her were guards as much prisoner transport.

The walk through the city left her lost and disoriented. All the ‘streets’ – really fissures and openings between the obsidian towers – looked the same. There were no signposts that Skye could see or understand, and the pain kept her too exhausted to try to remember their path. She stumbled after the demoness leading them, her eyes on the hypnotic sway of the demoness’ black-clad hips. When her guard stopped, Skye plowed into her back. The demoness spun, prepared to backhand her, but found Skye already lying on the ground, staring up with dazed blue eyes. Disgust clear on her face, she snapped an order to another of the guard, and Skye felt herself hoisted into the air. Had it just carried her, she probably would have made it, but the demon tossed her over a shoulder as hard and unyielding as Kenichi’s. Skye screamed from the pain just before passing out.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Waking up was as arduous as ever; the peace of sleep was racked with pain that drew her out of bliss. Skye awoke expecting to see an obsidian chamber of barren cold, but instead the room was lit with fiery warmth. The pop of something burning nearby explained the warm color that danced against the glass walls. And most importantly – she was clothed in a white robe. Between that and the fire burning in the nearby fireplace, she was almost warm again. It was a pleasant change.

Skye sat up. The collar was still around her neck, its weight shifting as she moved, but the burden of the chain was gone. She was on a bed of sorts – a protrusion of the wall stuck out, melding with the floor below to create a block about the size of a twin-sized bed. She was also clean: her skin glowed with hygienic zest and her hair was brushed and up in a comb while a flowery scent hung around her. She was marveling at the changes – and the delightful feel of being clean – when the pain struck her again. Skye groaned through her teeth, wrapping her arms around herself.

“It’s awake,” she heard a voice say. With tears of pain in her eyes, Skye looked up to see another one of those red-skinned demons. This one was shorter and dressed in a gray shirt and shorts. “Come with me.” Skye nodded and stumbled to her feet. She swayed and nearly fell; the demon darted forward and caught her by the arm. “Don’t fall! You’ll soil your robe!”

“My robe?” Skye repeated stupidly.

“Yes, your robe, and I can’t have you being dirty for the presentation!” the demon wailed. His golden scales darkened to orange, making him look like he was heating up.

“I just… it hurts,” she whispered.

“Oh, that won’t do!” the demon sighed. “He can’t give a sick gift. Here.”

“What is it?” Skye asked, peering down at the red dust settling into her palm. It half-stuck to itself and moved like water.

“Its medicine, just eat it, hurry!” The demon actually grabbed her hand and steered it toward her mouth.

“Wait, I-” Skye choked as it hit her tongue. It tasted a little sweet and slightly sour – a little like tart cough syrup. A moment later, her throat and tongue felt soft. Not quite numb, but like they were made of silk or the softest cotton in the world. That feeling rapidly spread throughout her body; when it reached her eyes, the colors of the room melted together like wet paint. “… feel weird…”

“Just tell them that you got sick after,” the demon insisted, his voice warbling like his vocal cords had hit a whammy bar. “Understood.”

“After,” Skye repeated dreamily. She didn’t hurt anymore. It felt good.

“Oh, thank Orcorli,” her handler sighed. He took her hand and tugged her along. “Come along.”

“… along…” Skye murmured, staring at the fire. It writhed and danced with itself like entwined lovers. The sharp tug from her handler sent her stumbling after him, barely able to keep her mind on the simple idea of one foot in front of the other. She was drawn through black halls with art dripping down the walls into a room that was swirling with color. Skye stopped and stared, unaware of the huddled whisper taking place to the side. She was engrossed with staring at the demons moving and dancing throughout the room, dressed in a myriad of clothing styles and colors. The way they swam and ran together would have made her head hurt, had she been capable of feeling pain.

The music stopped – which Skye hadn’t even realized was music in her drugged state – and she heard something talking in another language. A corridor opened up in the bodies before her and someone pushed her. Blinking, Skye staggered forward catching herself without falling. She stared at the demons, her eyes wide, utterly confused. Someone shoved her again and hissed, “Move!” Hesitantly, she took a step and then another. She wasn’t afraid; she was worried about falling through the holes that kept opening up before her.

Hands caught her, jarring her to a stop. Skye stared at the meaty paws on her shoulders, then followed the arms up to the body and face. The form looming over her was easily nine foot tall. A black-skinned demon stared down at her, white eyes narrowed. Gray horns curled around his face and shoulders. “You’re big,” Skye said, her voice sounding vaguely surprised.

There was a smattering of unintelligible dialogue – or at least Skye couldn’t follow it. “He says, ‘I’m big because I ate so many people like you.’” Skye turned and saw a man – or at least he appeared to be human – standing to the side, looking at her.

“Something is not like the other things,” Skye giggled.

“Indeed. And since you appear to be high on something, we should take you home,” the man said.

“Oh good! I’ve been needing to get home. I’m sure Sho’s expecting me back by now.” Skye grinned as the man took her by the arm and gently led her out of the room.

“Oh, I’m sure. Come along, then,” the man said, and walked her out of this building. A coach drawn by horses with flames for manes, tails and hooves waited impatiently. Skye and the man climbed in and the conveyance jerked into motion with a snap of the reins. Skye was sleep before they’d left the courtyard, lulled by the rocking and soothed by the lack of pain.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

The priestess woke up in another cage, in more pain. She was lying on the floor, her limbs straight as if someone had carefully arranged her. Not only was the ‘gift’ from Henry back, but now she was stiff. “Ficken dämon,” she hissed, wrapping her hand over her gut. It hurt so much she was surprised to see that she wasn’t bleeding. No matter how much she tried to tell herself it was all in her head, she couldn’t stop feeling it.

This cage was of jagged pillars of black obsidian, which formed the bars of the cell. The door was black iron bars; she sensed that obsidian and iron was a theme around here. In the darkness of the room beyond her cell, she could see five other cells in the ornate room, all empty. Like hers, they were decorated with a bed frame, chair and small table made of black glass. The chair had a thin cushion, just as the bed did. A blanket was folded over the foot of the bed and Skye could see the edge of a flat pillow. A curtain hung in the corner; Skye prayed it held a toilet instead of something awful. She had all the basic amenities of life, provided in a ten by ten cell.

“Good day,” a cultured voice said and Skye turned to see a man standing outside of her cage. He was dressed in black pants and matching vest over a white shirt. His tie was perfectly knotted and he stood at perfect attention. His black hair was combed back and the metal tray in his hands gleamed with polish. The only thing about him that wasn’t perfect was the aura of power he threw off; he was presenting himself as a butler but there was more to him.

“Who are you?” Skye hissed, pushing herself upright.

“I am called Ramsey,” the man said. “I am in the employ of Lord Zakruas.”

“OK,” Skye said after a beat in which Ramsey failed to illuminate further. “Who is Lord Zakruas?”

“He is your Master,” Ramsey said.

Skye’s eyes narrowed. She gave herself a beat to try to suppress the pain of something gnawing on her spine. The pain-wracked captive took a breath to steady herself then asked, “How come he’s your employer, but I have to be a slave?”

“Because I sold my world for the honor of serving Him of my own free will,” Ramsey said. “You were captured and given to Him as a gift.” Skye stared at him with disgust curling her lip. “You look like that now,” he said softly, “but you will come to understand.”

“Never,” Skye vowed.

Ramsey smiled – it was a smile that Skye wished she could knock from his face; it was the kind of smile that said she would come around to his point of view. It only hardened her resolve to hold strong. “The rules are simple. Keep yourself clean,” Ramsey stated as if they hadn’t been talking about her enslavement. “If you do not, you will be punished. Once a day, you will be taken to a bathing room and allowed to cleanse your body. You will be given clean clothing, if you are to wear any that day. You will wear what you are given to wear. You will be given food healthy for you and expected to eat it.”

“Why?” Skye asked.

“Lord Zakruas prizes cleanliness.” Ramsey’s smile was the same infuriating smirk as he added, “You will adhere to these rules for the duration of your life.”

Skye had the sudden feeling that the ‘duration of her life’ included her time in this cell. Or at least, she was sure that was what they intended it to mean. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would he take such good care of me?”

“Well-tended food tastes better,” Ramsey said, a sadistic smile twisting his face.

“Food?” Skye asked, her voice shaking. Ramsey said nothing. After another spasm passed through Skye, she rasped, “How about fixing this?”

Ramsey smiled. “The curse you suffer from doesn’t adversely affect your taste. Indeed, it… ripens your flavor. I believe that is how Master described it.”

“Gross,” Skye said, shaking. It’d already feed on her? When? Where? She had all her pieces. “You are all gross.”

“Fortunately, my Master does not need nor desire your acquiescence.” Ramsey smiled. “Good day, little priestess.”

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Skye found out what Ramsey meant later. But first she had a dull monotony of the days to get through. Ramsey was as good as his word: after a while, food was brought for her. It wasn’t the best-tasting food in the world, but it was filling. She tried to eat it all, but the pain made her sick to her stomach.

“You must finish.” Ramsey was in front of her cage as if he’d teleported there, his hazel eyes staring at her with no mercy.

“I’m not hungry,” Skye told him. She didn’t care if they didn’t like it.

“You will eat,” Ramsey ordered.

“I have eaten,” Skye hissed. “If I eat any more, I’ll barf.”

“’Barf’?” Ramsey asked, looking angry and confused. It was not an improvement as far as Skye was concerned.

“Throw up,” Skye said. “The pain… it makes me nauseous sometimes.”

“Eat your food,” Ramsey ordered. His stance and expression warned her that if she didn’t comply, someone would make her comply.

“Fine!” Skye snarled. She managed to choke her food down, and keeping it down occupied several hours. By the time she was sure she wouldn’t bring it back up, a demon with black skin and an elaborate spiral of horns opened her cage and ordered her to follow. It wore simple gray robes that was clearly a uniform. Skye considered fighting him, but she didn’t this time. First, she wanted a bath. So long as it was a bath with water and not acid or something vile.

More than that, Skye wanted to see what this place was about. She’d never expected to be treated well, even if it wasn’t for her own well-being. She felt like she’d be given time to assess the situation and possibly find a way out. So for now, the game was to play along. Skye kept her eyes open, doing her best to see every detail of the rooms and halls they passed despite the pain in her gut.

They walked past two more rooms like hers, rooms with ornate, dark decorations and six cages. Unlike her room, these cages were full of other creatures. Skye didn’t get much of a look at them, but she felt the sheer desolation and desperation from these captives. She wondered if she gave off the same throat-clenching sense of need.

The bathroom was, thankfully, exactly what she expected it to be – a room full of bath tubs. A woman with blue-green skin and fins was in one tub while another demon stood guard over her. Skye gave the woman a smile; her yellow eyes slipped away from Skye as if she hadn’t seen her. With a sigh, Skye turned to look at her handler, who waved her at the filled tub. After verifying that it was water, and nicely warmed water, Skye dropped her clothing and slipped into the delicious warmth. The blue woman left before Skye had been there five minutes, and the added privacy help her to relax more. Even her spasms of pain weren’t quite so bad in this warm water. Without a sense of guilt, she sank deeper into the water, sighing with pleasure. She might have been fairly clean for her ‘gifting’ to Lord Zakruas, but she didn’t get to enjoy it. Now she luxuriated, pleased that her handler didn’t push her to finish. The demon stood in quiet attendance, waiting with endless patience. Skye knew it was more patient than her; she never could have stood so still while someone else bathed until the water turned cool.

When the clean priestess emerged from the water, she was handed a large towel. After drying, the demon handed her a dress. Normally, Skye would have been down with this kind of thing; she liked dresses. But not pink dresses that resembled a cosplay French maid’s outfit.

“You’re ficken kidding me, right?”

“You are to wear what you are given,” the demon said, revealing a strange, buzzing, monotone voice.

Skye clenched her teeth. Play along now, rebel later. She had to stop reacting and start planning. Had she taken five minutes to plan for entering Hell rather than jumping right into it, she might not be in this situation. If she didn’t get smart, she was going to get very, very dead. Scowling, she pulled the god-awful nightmare on and settled it into place. It was as bad as she’d feared; the skirt stuck out in a circle around her, barely covering her ass. The neckline wasn’t too bad though it left her bare shoulders on display. There were garters and hose and tiny, cute shoes. It was a pervert’s wet dream – all she needed was an innocent, surprised look and a duster. “Just as a note, I look better in blue.”

They walked her back to her cage. The petite priestess kept her head up as she walked, despite the atrocity that she wore. Halfway back, she had the ridiculous thought that the only way this would be more embarrassing was for Kazuo to show up. He’d probably get off on seeing her dressed like this. Frankly, she’d welcome him showing up even looking like this, which told her exactly how bad her situation was.

After she was in her cage, she was left alone. Ramsey brought her food twice more at various intervals. Other than that, there was nothing for her but boredom. No books to read, nothing to distract her and no one to talk with. Skye wondered if the captives in the other rooms were allowed to talk to one another. She’d love to have one of them here, with her, just so she had someone else to watch, if not to talk.

She slept when she grew tired. After a couple of cycles of this routine, she started to talk to herself, just to hear a voice. That was when she heard a voice. Daughter, I am here.

The silvery whisper brought a smile to her face. Thank you, she replied and began to talk to her Goddess.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

With Luna sparing time to speak with her, Skye felt better. She should have known that was when things would get bad.

It was between lunch and dinner – so named because they were the second and third meal of the day. Skye didn’t actually know what time it was. She lived by their clock, which seemed fairly regular. But she was still operating blind. There was no day-night cycle to base her sense of time on, and no one answered her requests for a time-check.

She heard footsteps coming, and Skye pushed herself upright on her bed. She had had her bath already; today’s outfit was a blue kimono, long and full. It was even warm, a nice benefit in the cold cell. They’d taken her statement that she looked better in blue to heart; over half of what she’d been given to wear was some shade of blue.

The teenager was expecting to see Ramsey approaching her cell, but she was in for a nasty shock. Instead, she saw a tall demon. He – and there was no doubt from the broad chest and full loincloth that it was a he – was roughly nine foot tall with black skin. His eyes were white like a corpse’s and his skin black. Gun-metal gray horns curled up and behind him. He stared at Skye as if she were a particularly delicious treat.

Skye went still. It was an irrational reaction; it didn’t even work for the birds trying to elude the snake. Ramsey stepped from behind the demon and unobtrusively opened the cell door. “My Lord,” he murmured, his voice pitched to a fervent admiration, “your newest acquisition.”

A swollen, red tongue, shocking against the black lips, darted out and wet the skin. “Delicious,” he said and entered the cell. Skye thought about running; she thought about fighting. Her fingers tucked into fists and her toes curled under the balls of her feet. When Lord Zakruas moved in front of her, Skye struck. The small woman kicked out, the ball of her foot heading straight for his crotch.

It never landed. A clawed hand bigger than her head caught her ankle and jerked it toward him. Skye tumbled off the bed with a squawk; the only reason she didn’t knock herself out was that she bounced her head off the pad instead of the frame. The fall still stunned her for a second; the backhand that followed felt like it almost took her head off her shoulders. As she hung limply in his hands, he drew her to him. It was almost like she was a child, the way he cradled her gently. Lord Zakruas dropped his face to hers, his lips opening as if for a kiss. Dazed, Skye watched as he pressed his lips to hers. Her immediate thought was this was a prelude to rape. For a moment, it was just the worst kiss of her entire life. Then it hurt; at first she thought it was a new aspect of the ‘gift’ Henry had given her but it was strange. It left like she was being drawn up through the mouth of the demon holding her but she didn’t go anywhere.

The painful pulling stopped and she was dropped on the bed. Skye flopped, still too stunned to move. “Most satisfying,” she heard the demon say. “Clean it up – I will want to taste that one for a long time to come.”

“Of course,” Ramsey replied.

When she could finally move without falling over, there was a wet towel and a dry one waiting for her.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Skye lost the number of days she was there. She didn’t have any way to track the time; the glass was too tough to scratch on and they didn’t let her keep anything from day to day. Even the bedding was changed every few days. Her days were mostly alike; sometimes, she wondered if time passed at all. It was only the growth of her hair and nails that gave her any real sense of forward progression.

Her pains never really stopped. Sometimes they were better; sometimes worse. Skye was getting used to them; the petite German more or less stopped noticing them. She hurt, she dealt with it and she prayed. That was what really kept her strong; her talks with Luna continued. Skye never really learned anything about her goddess, but she heard a lot of stories. When Luna wasn’t talking to her, Skye would repeat them to herself, her mind pouring over them and even expanding on them. She had to have something to do.

The real killer was the boredom. She told herself stories from Luna or her childhood. She rebuild them and retold them over and over, finding something new. She savored the moments where something new and wonderful was created. The other times, when her stories weren’t enough to entertain, she picked a conversation with Ramsey, but it usually was short and mocking. Still, even that was something new. Skye began to enjoy new things, no matter how little or dumb – they broke the monotony.

When she heard several footsteps one day, Skye bolted out of her bed. She hurried to the front of the cell and peered out, eager to see something new. The guards – the smaller versions of Zakruas – were walking in a bunch, following Ramsey. Something hung between them and Skye rose to her tiptoes to see what.

“Oh, gott!” she gasped at her first clear sight of their burden. All she could see was the bloodied wings, a leanly muscled bare back and long, dark hair. Oh, gott, oh, gott… is that Kazuo?!

Skye remained pressed to the bars, pacing the progress of the guards and their unconscious guest. Worry and fear were clear on her face as the guards dumped the winged man into a cell; they dropped him in such a way that she still couldn’t see his face. All she could see in the light was that he was badly hurt, winged and his skin was the right tone of brown.

After the guards another demon entered. Unlike the others, her skin was green and she resembled old woodcuts Skye had seen of hags. She shambled into the room and leaned over the still form. Skye watched nervously as the witch muttered, her long fingers poking. A moment later, Skye felt a surge of power from the hag. Blinking, she watched the ugly facsimile of a woman totter out of the cage. A swarm of attendants – the demons that seemed to be in charge of the daily care and cleaning of the food – descended on the young winged man, cleaning him up.

This must have been what they did to me, Skye thought, aware that she was staring but not caring. Even when they turned the ‘angel’ over and Skye saw it wasn’t Kazuo, she didn’t stop ogling. This was the closest thing she’d gotten to a floor show in a while. The new prisoner was handsome, from what Skye could see. She actually got to see quite a bit of him; the attendants cut off his clothing without consideration to his modesty and Skye had to admit that she stared without the same consideration.

After they were done, the ‘angel’ was dressed in red silk pants. The attendants laid him out on the floor and left him, just like they had done with Skye. The priestess watched with interest, hoping he’d wake up soon. When soon didn’t materialize, she flopped back against one of the bars on her cage and drew her blanket up around her.

Sometime later, Skye jerked awake at a groan. Blinking, she leaned over and peered at the ‘angel’ who was stirring. “Hi,” she said cheerfully.

He looked up at her and Skye gasped. He was gorgeous. Golden eyes caught the limited light in the room; it almost seemed to pool in his luminous orbs. Thick black hair fell around a face that was all angles and planes connected in all the right ways. His skin was the color of aged ivory, the complexion perfect. His wings, though small, were a blinding white and looked as soft as clouds. Skye half-wondered if they would be as soft as Kazuo’s. In reality, she was much more interested in whether he was seeing anyone.

His fantastic eyes took in their cells and her in a single sweep that left Skye shivering a little. Painfully hot was something she thought only existed in romance novels, but apparently she only had to go to hell to find it. He said something and she replied, “That is a sexy, sexy voice but I’m afraid I can’t understand a word.”

“Perhaps we should save our mutual admiration of one another for later,” he said and Skye blushed as she made a startled squeaking noise. “Where are we?”

“I’m guessing that this is Lord Zakruas’ castle,” Skye replied, trying to fight back her blush and inauspicious beginning. “No one will tell me for sure… what?”

“I know of Lord Zakruas,” the ‘angel’ replied. “This is not good.” He looked around the room, studying the area.

“No,” Skye said, lifting an eyebrow, “it’s not, but you really didn’t need to say that.” They were quiet for a moment; then Skye asked, “So what’s your name?”

Those too-hot eyes fell on her again. “Azakai,” he told her.

“I’m Skye,” she replied.

He stood and bowed to her, his wings folding in a too-familiar way as he bent. “I wish it were a pleasure,” he told her, “but none of us should be here.”

“You got that right,” Skye replied, rising to give him a bow. Their exchanged smiles were the gentle beginning of a friendship forged in Hell.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Ramsey came not long after, to repeat the instructions to Azakai that Skye had received. Azakai received them with stony stoicism, not replying to Ramsey’s queries regarding his understanding. Ramsey smiled with that arrogant smirk and left them. Once he was gone, Skye turned to him. “What do you know about Zakruas?” she asked.

Azakai was silent for a moment. “Zakruas is one of the major demons in Bazaroth. Currently, he’s curried much favor and power with Lord Orcorli. He likes to collect things – clean and beautiful things. He has no weaknesses that I know of and too much power for the comfort of some. He’s very dangerous and arrogant, and that will work for us.”

“Escape?” Skye asked, smiling a little.

Azakai grinned. “I was hoping you’d be willing to join me.”

“You bet your ass,” she said before deflating a little. “I don’t know what I can do, without my fans.”

“Fans?” Azakai tilted his head at her. Skye explained, going into great detail about her history and background. When she was done, he was nodding. “It seems that I have found a good ally,” he said.

“Me?” Skye laughed. “I’m useless without my fans.”

“Perhaps,” Azakai murmured. “We shall learn one way or another.”

Skye studied him for a moment; he looked model-sexy as he sat on his bed, his knees up and his arms looped loosely around him. She wondered if they’d always keep him shirtless; if this Zakruas was so hot on beauty, then she should see a lot of his chest. “Do we have a plan?”

“Not yet,” Azakai answered truthfully. “I should once I know exactly what we’re up against.”

The priestess bit her lip and then gave into the curiosity that had been burgeoning in her. “So… how’d you get your wings?”

“I was hatched with them,” he said.

His sexy quotient slipped a bit. “Hatched?”

“That is normal for my people, the Asrai,” he told her, smiling a little. “You birthers are also so shocked to learn that we hatch from eggs.”

Skye stared at him for a long moment. “I’ve never heard of Asrai,” she replied. “What are they?”

“We’re residents of Aradia, one of the realms,” Azakai told her. That led to a long question and answer session about Aradia, the Asrai and the multiverse. It took a while, and after Skye had run out of questions, she was quiet for a long time. “You have something else to ask me, don’t you?”

“I have a friend,” Skye started hesitantly. “And one day, he showed up with a set of wings…”

After she had finished telling him about Kazuo, Azakai shrugged. “He might be Asrai or part-Asrai. Sometimes, it takes time for the wings to manifest, and late puberty would be one of those times. I would have to meet him to find out.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Perhaps when you find him, that will be the time to find out.”

Skye giggled suddenly. “If he is,” she laughed, “I get to see the look on his face when I tell him he is an alien who hatched from an egg!” She privately doubted it. The Asrai were the source of legends about angels, and Kazuo was no angel. His wings came from another source, she was sure.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Azakai settled into the routine as rapidly as Skye. The biggest hurdle to their comfort was bath-time; three attendants arrived accompanied both of them to the baths. Azakai and Skye walked side by side; the Asrai was watching the area while Skye attempted to not show her nervousness. She was thinking ahead to the bathing part. She didn’t remember seeing another area for the men. The German girl was trying to not think about that too hard; she’d deal with it when – if it became an issue.

It rapidly became an issue; the attendants stopped and turned to look at them, standing next to two steaming baths. Skye glanced at Azakai and found him looking at her awkwardly. The ‘angel’ gave her a nod and turned so that his back was to her; with that privacy granted, Skye hurriedly turned and stripped. She didn’t hesitate to slip into the water; splashing nearby told her that Azakai was doing the same.

She looked; she had to do so. It was like a force of nature to dart her blue eyes to the side, the blood warming her face. The incredible awkwardness of the moment dulled the usual enjoyment of the hot bath. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sneak peeks at her new roommate; it was that getting caught doing so was very embarrassing. When she caught golden glances looking at her, it only made it worse, somehow.

They finished and mutually agreed to get out of the tub, facing away from each other. The attendants handed them each an outfit: Azakai a fitted black shirt and leggings with a red tunic belted front and back and Skye a blue and green belly-dancer’s outfit. Skye turned and found Azakai standing just behind her. Skye gasped as he caught her shoulders in his hands. “You said you are cursed?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, feeling her blue eyes widen. “Well, you said that,” she hastily corrected. “Henry called it a gift, but it’s just mind control.”

The golden light seemed to flare in his eyes and he murmured something in a language she didn’t understand. The glow traveled down his arms and into her body making her feel warm. For the first time in weeks, the near-constant pain faded, leaving Skye feeling almost giddy. “Wow,” she whispered – just before the attendants tackled Azakai, bearing him to the floor. “Hey!” Skye yelped as the Asrai was buried under two other demons. “Stop that! He didn’t hurt me.”

“There is to be no touching.” Ramsey appeared as if he’d been waiting just around the corner. Skye yelped and jerked away reflexively as he brushed past her. Azakai was already throwing off the attendants dog-piling him when Ramsey joined the crush. It took another three demons, but they were all pressing down on him, trapping him.

A spare attendant grabbed Skye’s elbow and pulled her away. Skye surprised him and herself by twisting her arm and jerking away from him. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed at him, holding her head high.

“You must return to your cell,” the attendant said after a moment of hesitation.

“Not without Azakai,” she said firmly. Her blue eyes locked with the demon’s and it felt the command in her gaze. “I will wait.”

“It may take time to subdue him,” the attendant argued.

It should have been ordering her, but Skye seemed to have taken the authority out of its command. “Then we wait,” she said. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

Skye knelt next to the pile and said urgently, “Azakai, this isn’t helping you! This isn’t helping anyone! Stop fighting! Please!”

Kazuo never would have listened to her, but a moment later, she heard Ramsey say, “Good move. Take him back to his cell.” Skye stood and faced Ramsey, who was watching her with interest. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want him beaten up for no reason,” Skye said.

Ramsey frowned at her. “Go back to your cell.” He looked upset about something, but Skye couldn’t figure out what. With a nod, she allowed herself to be escorted back to her cell.

[z-Skye the Fallen]

Outside of the mandatory bath-times, things were good. Azakai and Skye talked for hours, making plans and telling each other stories. Skye promised to take him to Tokyo and introduce him to Keiko and orange soda; he promised to take her to Aradia and show her his world. They were comforting thoughts and possible lies, but they made it possible for them to put aside their fear and plan for the future.

The good times couldn’t last; Zakruas had others to feed from but he never stayed away from his acquisitions for long. Skye tensed when she heard the footsteps, their cadence so different from the attendants’. “Gott,” she whispered and pushed herself against the back wall, huddling on the bed.

“They’re coming?” Azakai whispered. At Skye’s terse nod, he drew himself up and faced the door, his golden eyes hard. His body tensed, making his muscles draw themselves tight in a very pleasing manner. Skye couldn’t enjoy the show, not right now.

Lord Zakruas was with them. He sauntered along, his white eyes bouncing back and forth between the two. Skye imagined that he was enjoying their tension, like a coinsurer enjoying the fragrance of the food before the feast. Skye was freed of her curse and had been enjoying the pain-free life; the memory of the pain he’d caused her when he last fed on her was enough to make her shrink back against the back wall and hoped he passed her by. She didn’t consider what that meant for her friend.

Zakruas did pass her by, stopping before Azakai’s door. Too late, Skye realized that if she wasn’t going to suffer, then she had to watch him suffer. Part of her, the selfish part that wasn’t very nice, was glad that she wouldn’t hurt. But a larger part of her was horrified that it was Azakai’s turn – or maybe it was just upset that she had to suffer this at all.

Skye thought it had been difficult when she was the subject of the feeding. But as she watched Azakai thrash and struggle in Zakruas’ arms, she knew that it was worse. It was harder, anyway. Shivering, she sobbed helplessly as Azakai went limp and was dropped to the floor. “The taste of Asrai is so… invigorating,” Zakruas sighed, turning and stepping out of Azakai’s cell. Skye’s friend lay on the ground, shuddering.

Skye waited only until Zakruas and the ever-present weasel Ramsey had left before she pressed herself to the bars and cried, “Azakai! Are you alright?” She listened to his labored breathing, tears running down her face. “Aza-”

“… fine,” he rasped, lifting his head to be heard. “Just calm down.”

Skye sagged with relief; it wasn’t until he spoke that she’d been afraid he’d go away and leave her alone again. “Oh, thank Luna!”

Azakai dragged himself upright, leaning against the bars of his cage. “We need to get out of here,” he rasped painfully. “The sooner, the better.”

[z-Skye the Fallen]

But sooner wasn’t coming very rapidly. Days passed – how many was hard to tell. There was no way to keep track of them; the cells were cleared of all items every few days and she had nothing to on which to mark the glass. Contrary to Azakai’s wish, they both had to endure more feedings. Skye wasn’t sure which she hated more; being the subject or being the observer. Both were terrible.

They discussed many escape plans; they even tried a few. They found out that there were always more attending demons just out of sight. And Ramsey had an annoying way of popping in to help divert the escape attempts. Skye and Azakai were punished for them, usually by a beating and then dumped back in their cells.

“We need some help,” Azakai murmured one day, holding a sore shoulder. They’d just failed at another escape and both were hurt and tired.

“Where?” she asked, ripping a blue bow out of her hair and throwing it across the cage. Her pretty face twisted with anger as she growled, “Where are we going to get help?”

“I don’t know!” Azakai sighed, pressing his hands to his head. Skye relented as she heard the loss in his voice. “I just know that we can’t do it alone.”

“So we wait and watch?” Skye asked.

“No, we keep trying,” Azakai sighed, looking at her. “I don’t want him to think we’ve given up. So long as we have fight, we’re interesting. Can you keep doing that, Skye? Can you keep fighting?”

Skye closed her eyes. It seemed like so much to ask – to keep fighting against unending numbers of demons. It was Tokyo again, without the charm of living in a civilized city when she wasn’t neck-deep in demons. But thoughts of Tokyo reminded her why she was here. Kazuo would keep fighting and so would she. No way would she ever have to tell him she stopped fighting just because she was tired.

“I can,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she believed that. “I will.” So long as she kept telling herself she had to fight, she’d keep trying.

She went to sleep telling herself that she could keep doing this – that she could keep fighting. She dreamed that she was swimming in a sea of demons. No matter how much she tried, she continued to sink deeper in the demons. Just as she slipped under, she jerked back awake.

Standing in front of her cage was another demon. It was whip-thin with purple skin and a triangular head; lank red hair hung in ropes around his shoulders. Leather straps around his chest and waist carried a variety of tools. To Skye’s shock, it knelt before her cage and opened the door.

“What-?” she whispered but it caught her off.

It held up one long finger and hissed, “Shhh.” It swung the door open and tossed her a key – a key stained with ichor. As Skye stared in shock, he turned and rushed away.

“What is that?” Azakai hissed to her. Skye looked over to see him blinking sleepily at her, leaning on an elbow. Then he sat up and said, “Your door!”

“I know. Some… thing opened it,” Skye said. She realized that she was being stupid. She dashed out the door and to Azakai’s cage, popping open the lock. He was already on his feet, his wings unfurling. She exchanged an excited smile with him – this was it. They could both feel it; they were leaving.

Azakai’s hand slipped into Skye’s and she shot him an excited grin. In the dim light and with the strange, familiar scent of feathers heady in the air, it was almost like she clasped Kazuo’s hand.

A sudden scream tore through the air, followed by a hollow boom. Skye heard herself shriek, but it was drowned out by shouts and roars. Azakai pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, as if he could shield her alone. “What’s happening?” Skye cried, shivering.

“I think… it must be an attack,” Azakai said, a smile lighting up his face. “This is our chance. We were set free to be a distraction. Come on!” He grabbed her hand again and tugged her into motion. “Come on!” With a sense of elation and fear, she ran after him.

They saw attendants, but the demons were too busy to stop them. The two ran unfettered through the halls, Skye following Azakai. A thought occurred to her, shocking enough to wrench her out of her haze. “Azakai, wait!” she cried. He didn’t stop, but he did turn back and slowed. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes, this is the way they brought me in!” he shouted. Still she hesitated and he shouted, “Skye, trust me!” She nodded and they started running again. They went through hallways and massive rooms; the sounds of warfare followed them, chasing them through the monolithic castle. Skye would have been hopelessly lost but Azakai seemed to know the way-

“Azakai, stop!” Skye shouted as she pulled her hand loose. They were in yet another display room, this one for weapons. And Skye had spotted a matched set of very familiar weapons. “My fans!” They were hanging at eye-level for Lord Zakruas, which meant they were well above her head.

“Skye, come on!”

“No, not without my fans, please, Azakai,” Skye begged him. “Please!”

The Asrai stared at her and shook his head. She opened her mouth to plead again but he was looking up at her fans. His wings doubled in size and then snapped violently, lifting him into the air. Skye smiled a little; it was like watching Kazuo fly. Azakai hovered in front of the wall, reaching for her fans-

The wall bulged and started to tumble toward Azakai. Skye shrieked as demons began to break through the wall; stones rained down as giant demons pushed down the bulwarks. Azakai spun in midair and threw the fans at her; Skye reached for them automatically as he disappeared under falling boulders. Her hands closed around them but she barely felt them; all she felt was her throat going raw from screaming, “Azakai!”

There was no time to look for him. Demons poured through the breach in the wall, coming in a wall of demonic flesh. Skye howled with outrage as she snapped the fans open and attacked. She fought them, but there were too many. She went down screaming for Azakai.

[Justin OOC]

25 points