Satan's Hunger

13

Kaitlyn wasn't even tired. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. All she wanted was to hold Jacob—but his warm arms were gone.

Satan was quiet as he sat facing the fire, the lizard skin of his chair shimmering against the flickering firelight. All she could see was his right hand gripping the armrest. She felt strange, her mind a tumble of thoughts, her emotions in turmoil. Sister Beatrice's words kept echoing in her mind: All of this terror could end through one simple act of bravery.

Kaitlyn couldn't get the image of that murderous mother out of her mind. She'd killed her own children.

She'd killed her own children.

As the chair swivelled around, all Kaitlyn could see was that mother's face interposed over Satan's.

All of this is the work of the devil.

Satan leaned back in his chair as he watched her, dressed in his robe, legs crossed, both hands gripping the arm rests. 'Back so soon?' His eyes shone. 'At least you're wearing clothes this time.'

Kaitlyn should be afraid. She'd shoved him. She'd made him stumble. He was angry. He could hurt her like he'd done so many times before. And yet ...

She felt nothing.

His eyes narrowed. His robe was open at the chest and she could see the hard muscles of his pecks. Again, she felt nothing. The desire she'd come to know so well was utterly snuffed out.

'What's wrong with you? Why aren't you afraid? Why are you so quiet?' His voice echoed authoritatively around the room. 'What's going through your mind, Kaitlyn?'

Kaitlyn blinked. She could feel the compulsion to speak. She could feel it like a tug at her tongue, like a push in the small of her back. At first, Kaitlyn tried to resist, then stopped herself. Why? Why fight it? Who better than Satan to talk with? Who better to unburden herself to? Despite all his power, he could do nothing about it, stuck down here in hell.

It was such a startling realisation—and it made her feel powerful.

He could do nothing. Nothing.

'What's going to happen if I join with you?' she asked steadily.

Satan smiled. 'Are you interested, Kaitlyn?' Uncrossing his legs, he leaned over his lap, his hands clasped between his knees. 'Are you finally seeing sense?'

Kaitlyn didn't respond.

'You know what'll happen.' He leaned back and gave a casual flick of his hand. The curtain covering the window drew open, revealing hell's lashing fires. At a second flick of his hand, the window itself slid open and the sound of the Damned's screaming filled Kaitlyn's ears.

'Cities will fall. Mountains will crumble. Rivers will dry up. Everyone will know the heat of my hellfires.' His eyes gleamed. 'Mothers will weep for their dead children. Grandmothers will grieve for their lovers. Families will be ripped apart. People will starve, thirst and know only pain and suffering. So exacting is my vengeance.' His eyes bored into hers. 'You know this, Kaitlyn.'

'Why do you tell me such things? Aren't you afraid it'll turn me away?'

He laughed. 'When has it ever?' He smiled at her. 'Besides, I'm never afraid. I'm not afraid because the prophecy tells me that you will be mine, Kaitlyn. Some way. Somehow. You will come to me.' His blue eyes trailed over her body. 'Somewhere down in the depths of your soul where it's dark and lonely and angry, you will find something you can share with me. I only need wait.'

'Are you responsible?' Kaitlyn said before he could speak further. 'Are you responsible for all the shit that goes on the world? All the terrible acts. Mothers murdering their babies. School shootings. War. Murder. Rape. Is it you that causes this?'