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It’s not like the other realms are any better.
I still watch carefully.
Getting out of Hell might not be my dream, but I have enough decency to make sure neither Wraith nor Knight leave with any permanent damage.
Immortality can be exceptionally monotonous without friends to help pass the time.
Wraith is attacked from behind as he focuses on the lust and envy demons in front of him. Black blood pours from the wound on his neck and shoulder as he roars.
The sound is chilling.
They do seem to be getting a bit overrun by opponents.
We’re a cluster. I can join the battle without consequence. They want information from Nero. His price was fighting in the pit against any willing challenger.
Nero smirks, nodding for two more higher demons to enter. I lean forward, allowing my hands to fall to the table in front of me. The bastard pride demon looks directly at me as he grins like he’s won something.
My shadows darken, showing my agitation.
It clicks rather suddenly—Nero only accepted the deal because he knows I won’t sit back and watch my friends fall.
I frown again, because I haven’t fed recently. I have a bit of a growing addiction to one feeding source, and she won’t be in bed for several hours.
The tendrils of smoke surrounding me suddenly jut out, looking for victims. If I’m going into the pit, then I need to be capable of helping.
I’m a High Lord of Hell. I’m never weak, but without proper nutrition, I won’t be able to fight like I should.
I don’t need to turn my head to feel the sloth demon that’s behind me to the left. He fears that his mate will realize he’s a lazy fuck who puts zero effort into making sure she enjoys sex.
I would roll my eyes, but I’m still busy glaring at Nero, and that would ruin the persona.
I send the sloth demon a lovely little window into his future once his mate realizes she’s never actually enjoyed fucking him.
Who would?
The massive fucker grunts and sweats while using her for his pleasure. I feel zero guilt in tormenting him over his transgressions.
I ignore several demons until a tendril latches on to something truly vile.
The envy demon who covets his brother’s wife, and as such, has been poisoning him with herbs to cause his faculties to fail from the inside out. Demons are immortal, but he hopes to push his brother into madness, so he can steal his wife and make her his own.
Demons can be born the old-fashioned way, with two creatures fucking. However, first generation monsters, like myself, are born from the fiery pits of Hell.
I growl.
They’re second-generation demons, meaning they both popped out of a female demon’s snatch, or possibly they’re half-brothers. Either way, the envious bastard has no problem damaging his brother’s quality of life.
I don’t often allow my monster to create punishment without leashing it. It’s more depraved than I feel comfortable with. However, familial connections should be sacred.
I feed from the two demons’ fear and misery as I levitate in the air above my seat, raising an eyebrow at Nero. I suppose he’s getting his wish. The crowd parts, scurrying away as I float toward the stairs that lead to the viewing deck and eventually the pit.
My flair for dramatics becomes apparent as I allow my feet to land on the railing that lines the twenty-foot drop. The tendrils of my shadows slide out around me, keeping me steady as I spin.
My long, dark hair falls into my eyes.
I turn to Nero and wink before falling backward over the ledge. I plummet toward the ground like a ton of bricks, despite my shadow magic.
It’s quite disorienting as the tendrils of smoke tilt me upright again at the perfect height for my feet to touch the sand.
