“You think you two fairies can take me?” Marcus snarled.
“You know, your homophobic slurs are ridiculous considering you’re a gay man,” Jon sniffed. What anasshole. He turned to Beel again then, saying, “And blood is an OSHA hazard, so I’d rather not have it in the shop. Or… you know, pee or vomit and stuff.”
“Well I can’t very well kill him outside,” Beel reasoned. “I doubt you want blood on the sidewalk in front of the shop either. That’ll be a total bitch to clean up,” Beel reasoned.
“True,” Jon sighed. “And he certainly needs a lesson, but death might be a little hasty, no? I don’t want anyone ending up in prison.”
“No worries, love—covering up murder and mayhem is a perk of the job,” Beel smirked, and Jon did feel slightly better at that. He really didn’t need Beel in prison. (Although his demon could just portal out, but still—it would all be quite a hassle.)
“Maybe just some broken bones and bruises?” Jon ventured.
“How about a little maiming?” Beel negotiated.
Jon had the insane urge to giggle. Marcus turned back and forth between them like he couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. He looked furious but also confused.
“What the fuck are you two going on about?” Marcus growled out.
Beel sighed.
Then Jon’s soulmate was in all his demonic glory—horns, tail, and some nice red flashing eyes for effect. Marcus took a step back, and Jon managed to get out of the way as his ex bumped into the counter where Jon had just been standing.
“What the fuck?” Marcus muttered. He seemed utterly shaken, and Beel smirked at him.
Jon had to admit he was sort of enjoying himself (but also still sort of worried about death and dismemberment, because eww).
Then Marcus turned to him. “What the fuck did you dose me with, you asshole? Some kind of drug like last time?” Marcus demanded, and he reached out like he was about to grab or hit Jon.
Beel was there before Jon could even blink, and he had Marcus suspended in the air by the throat. Marcus was turningan interesting shade of red, but at least he hadn’t gotten his hands on Jon.
“Big mistake, Marcus,” Beel snarled, shaking Marcus like he was a rag doll.
It was sort of like watching a horror movie—Jon didn’t even feel like it was real. Maybe he was in a state of shock? Or maybe he was just glad this villain was finally going to learn a lesson.
Beel gave another shake, Marcus choked a bit more, legs dangling and hands scrabbling at Beel’s arm to no avail. Beel looked at Jon then, and the change from ferocious to affectionate was dizzying.
“Maybe just one missing limb?” Beel begged. “He doesn’t need both hands, does he?”
“But what will we do with the hand?” Jon wondered. He didn’t even know where that thought came from, but he wasnotgoing to let Beel use it as a decoration, and his demon did love the macabre. He could just picture it displayed in a glass jar and Beel looking at it fondly now and again. It wasnothis choice of fine home decor, thank you very much.
Beel sighed, then he grabbed Marcus’s hand in his, and Jon actuallyheardthe crunching, and then Marcus was screaming and crying, and he tumbled into a heap on the ground, clutching his hand and mewling.
Beel squatted down on the floor then, getting right up in Marcus’s face, and Jon saw him press down on Marcus’s knee with one hand. Jon heard another pop (and got vaguely nauseous—because he could really do without the sound effects), and Marcus screamed again.
“You are not a nice person, Marcus. You are an arrogant, self-centered, narcissistic asshole who gets off on making other people feel small.” Beel grabbed Marcus’s face then, squeezing his cheeks tightly and making his tear stained face look up at Beel.
Marcus whimpered as Beel then pressed his hand against Marcus’s chest. Jon wasn’t sure what he did, but there was no crunching or popping (thank god, or demons, or whatever), but Marcus gave a shrill shriek of pain nevertheless.
Jon swallowed reflexively; would it be weird if he watched from behind his fingers like horror movies? He was a bit squeamish, and things were getting… icky.
Beel looked up then, sparing Jon a smile that was definitely delighted. He winked before asking, “What do you think, love? How about a little castration?”
Beel was joking… hopefully.
“Ummm… I think that could get messy?” Jon volunteered.
“Ah, love, it’s a good thing you’re here.” Beel turned toward Marcus again, his eyes going red and his face scowling—it was really quite the horror-movie look, and by Marcus’s whimpering and groaning, Jon thought it was doing the trick.
Beel leaned in close, whispering, “If you think the agony will end with death, you are wrong. They will punish you, Marcus. I will make sure of it. You will suffer endless torment and misery. The physical pain will be unbearable, but then the true torture will come. They will break your mind down, piece by piece, until the selfish, unbearable, bully that lives inside you is nothing but fragmented pieces. You will not even know yourself. This is what awaits you.”
