The Darkest Joy by Dahlia Rose

of horror that escaped from her mouth. “You can’t! He said you can’t change the rules!”
     
    “Oh, we didn’t change the rules. We are just holding him for a while until his time passes by. Then he will be like me in every way. Maybe he might be willing to share you.”
     
    “Never!” Bliss said emphatically. A shudder of revulsion ran through her body.
     
    “I give you one more chance to save him. Sign my contract. I’ll even throw in an added bonus and extension of years. Your soul won’t be collected until you are old and gray.”
     
    Bliss shook her head vigorously. “I won’t ever do it! Caim has my love, and he will find a way. I know he will. I will be there to catch him when he falls, and by God, if you try to stop him or me, I’ll kill you myself!”
     
    Belial’s nasty laugh made her want to cover her ears. “He will be a demon, Bliss, and he will kill you. I want to be there to watch as he rips your head from your body.”
     
    With that, Belial, still in the image of Amber, gave a jaunty wave and disappeared from her sight. On shaky feet, Bliss turned and went back to sit on the pews in the small hospital chapel. She looked at the small stained glass window and sent a plea to heaven.
     
    “He is still yours, you know. Even in that pit you sentenced him to, he was still yours. He kept that spark of his soul alive, even though he spent a thousand years in that place. Please help him. Give him a chance to be human. They are not playing by the rules. Do we have to?”
     
    Bliss posed the question even though she expected no answer. She just hoped someone up there was listening to her because right now, they were all Caim had. Her love would be there to catch him when he fell, but she couldn’t save him from hell.
     
    * * * *
     
    The walls were like scalding water against the skin on Caim’s back. In only a few hours, he had been tortured like no other in the bowels of the unearthly realms of hell. Beaten with Qemuel’s whip until the skin on his back was shredded. Forced to watch all the debauchery and deviant behavior one could do. They had tried to make him eat the flesh of innocent humans and drink their blood to quench his thirst, a thirst that came to anyone tortured by Qemuel . He liked to watch them beg for a drink to ease the ache from swollen tongues and cracked lips. But Caim refused, and for that, the demon known for his ways in a torture chamber made him suffer. In a place where the only rule was to play in the den of iniquity, there were things that men dared not think of that were performed here, all in the name of the dark prince who ruled it with an iron fist.
     
    Lucifer had already heard of Caim’s plan to leave hell and how he had been stopped. He had heard the words directly from Belial’s own mouth. Caim knew that Belial, being in the presence of the dark lord and telling him of how a fallen one had tried to escape his lair, must have almost wetted himself in glee. Lucifer did not feel it necessary to visit the scene on his own. It was minimal on his list of important things to do. Instead, he gave Belial new standing in hell, a sector to rule on his own with new demons under his command as a collector of souls. Lucifer had also given him a message to take back to Qemuel about Caim’s punishment. He was to be given no reprieve, ultimate punishment until he became a demon. If he did not, he was to be cast into the fiery sea of perpetual agony for eternity. Belial had had no problem delivering the message. He teased Caim with it and boasted of his new position. I hope he chokes on his own filth, Caim thought miserably. He cried out in agony when felt a new lash across his belly. This time Qemuel’s whip had barbs, thorns attached to the leather. At his feet, smaller carrion demons scratched at the skin. Their tiny tongues felt like scorpion stings against his torn flesh as they licked at his blood.
     
    “Ready to submit now?” Qemuel hissed. “Look at you.