Satan's Queen

8

The hall was unusually cold and it was hard to keep her feet as it tilted from side to side.

'Shit,' she gasped.

What was going on? Was the castle falling down? How did she get here? She stopped and pressed her hands up against the wall, steadying herself. Nausea surged up her throat. She'd never been good with rollercoasters. The flickering torchlight wasn't helping things either.

'L-Lucifer!' Her voice echoed.

He didn't appear. She looked behind her but it was just more hall that seemed to continue into forever. No bedroom door. No exit. With nothing else for it, she continued moving, somehow knowing there was something important waiting for her up ahead. Sweat trickled down her face. She was so thirsty. Propelling herself onward, she kept one hand braced up against the wall as the floor continued to tilt.

A door appeared on her left. A familiar door. Kaitlyn paused. It had opened the last time. Would it open again? She looked over her shoulder but Lucifer was nowhere to be found.

A sudden desire to know his secrets made her grip the handle. What was he hiding?

You know what he's hiding.

Something wasn't right. None of this seemed real. The hall righted itself. The handle turned easily. The door opened more easily still, as though the heavy timber with its heavy iron lock weighed nothing at all.

The dark stairwell looked darker than ever. Taking up the torch from the wall, she began her descent, her breaths echoing against the volcanic rock. Her feet slapped loudly against the steps. Like the hall, it seemed to go on forever, like she was descending into an abyss.

There's much of hell you haven't seen. I don't show you everything. There are many circles, many pits, many depths ...

Finally the stairs stopped and she hit level ground. The walkway curved away from her. All was quiet except for the crackle of the flames. She was trembling; the firelight wavered sickeningly against the walls. The hair stood up on her arms as the back of her neck prickled. She didn't want to go on but her feet carried her ahead anyway.

She stopped again when the walkway opened up onto a room. It was empty. Barren. Except for a puddle of darkness in the middle of the floor. No. It was more than just that. The darkness was stirring. Biting her lip, Kaitlyn lowered her torch so she could see.

It was a figure. A charred figure. One of the Damned. It was lying unmoving on its side. Was it dead? No. Of course not. There was no death here; she could hear its rattling breaths.

'H-hello?'

For several heartbeats nothing happened. Then its fingers twitched. Its head turned on its neck. Wide, lidless, bloodshot eyes stared back at her. 'Kaitlyn,' it gagged.

The torch slipped from Kaitlyn's fingers and everything went dark.

*

Kaitlyn sat up with a yell. Grabbing at her necklace, she tried to catch her breath, the horror of her dream gripping tightly at her throat. Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing.

Calm. Be calm.

She opened her eyes again, blinking as she turned to look around her. She was back in her bedroom, her covers pulled over her. Lucifer had left a set of clothes on the edge of her bed.

Licking her dry lips, Kaitlyn lowered her hand to her belly with a frown as the day came back to her. How long had she slept for? Whipping off her blankets, she stood and got changed. She couldn't explain why, but more than ever it felt like there were eyes upon her. She looked around the room but there didn't seem to be any figures hidden in the shadows. She went over to the door. Hesitating briefly, she opened it. The hall was empty.