Satan's Hunger

8

Kaitlyn stared.

Where the heck was she? She spun around. This couldn't be hell. Where were the volcanic rock walls? Where were the flickering torches in their iron brackets? Instead, there were shimmering chandeliers. White marble walls. A gleaming marble floor. Large white pillars held up the roof like elegant towers. No fires. No darkness. And certainly no horror. There was not a shadowy corner for a demon to hide in to be found. Where was the screaming of the Damned? She paused and held her breath. Was that ... was that music?

It was! And classical music, no less. It was getting louder and louder. Kaitlyn looked down at herself with a start at a sudden tingling down her body. She gasped and stepped back. She was wearing a dress. A beautiful, silvery-grey dress that reached the floor. Sleeveless. Clinging to her figure like it was made for her. She reached down to touch the fabric, then raised her hands in surprise at the sight of long, elegant white gloves.

Crystals—or were they diamonds?—along the edges of her gloves and neckline of her dress shimmered against the light of the chandelier above. There was a string of them encircling her waist. Holding out her arms, she spun around. She reached up to touch her hair. The back was pulled up into a graceful bun, while the rest of her hair was left to tumble down her shoulders in pretty curls.

She turned with a start at a flash to her left. A mirror had appeared on the wall. Kaitlyn stared at the woman staring back at her. Was it really her? Or was it some kind of trick? Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder, then turned back.

Her lips were a lovely, deep red which highlighted the auburn in her hair. The deep, smoky eyeshadow exposed a fire in her gaze she'd never noticed before. A light touch of blush brought out her cheekbones. She had never realised how high they were. A necklace glittered around her neck. She reached up to touch the pendant. It wasn't her golden cross but a silver pentagram. She fondled it between her gloved fingers.

'No woman has ever looked more beautiful.'

Kaitlyn spun around.

He was standing behind her, arms folded, head cocked. She turned back to the mirror and their combined reflections. His golden hair was lightly styled, his usual stubble clean-shaven. He was wearing a black suit that broadened his already broad shoulders and narrowed his waist. Unfolding his arms, he held his hands behind his back. His blue eyes had never seemed so bright. He had never looked so handsome. Kaitlyn's heart turned over.

Kaitlyn clutched harder at her necklace; the necklace Satan had picked out for her. Just as he no doubt had picked out her dress. 'You look so ... different.'

'As do you.'

'What's going on?' She turned and frowned up at him. 'What are you up to?'

He gave her a sardonic smile, one so sexy it made her heart flip. 'Now why would you think I'm up to something?'

Kaitlyn turned her head. 'The music—it's getting louder. Where's it coming from?' The empty white hall gave her no answers.

As she turned back to Satan, she jumped. Behind him was a man and a woman—they were dancing. Kaitlyn blinked. They didn't seem real, floating along together like phantoms, their feet not quite touching the floor. The man was wearing a blue suit, the woman a pink dress, but Kaitlyn could see right through them to the opposite wall beyond.

As she watched, they slowly took form. The woman was pretty, blonde-haired and young. Her partner was tall, with dark hair and large hands that gripped her tightly. They were both smiling. With long, powerful strides, he swept her across the floor, her hair and dress flaring out. Kaitlyn could hear the tap of the woman's heels. They were looking into each other's eyes like they were in love, as though nobody else in the room existed.