Days later... but how many, Lily couldn't say. Time in Hell seemed to warp, each moment a monotonous, suffocating expanse. The sky was a perpetual, bruised twilight, the red moon an unblinking eye high above, and the thick, acrid smoke always filled the air, clinging to her lungs. She felt like she could barely breathe, her throat raw, her skin slick with sweat in the infernal heat.
"Do it again!" Lily's father, Alistair, bellowed. They were in the backyard of his opulent penthouse, standing on the hard cement of a balcony that overlooked the bleak, sprawling cityscape of Hell. He had no pity for her, forcing her to repeat the same fire manipulation move over and over and over again. Frustration, hot and brittle, coiled in her gut. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing ash and grime. "Alistair, I've done it at least twenty times..."
He circled her, his brow furrowed in a displeased frown. "And you'll do it twenty more times, however long it takes to get it right." His voice was a whip-crack, cutting through her exhaustion.
Lily pressed her lips tightly together. It was so hard for her to control her anger lately; he was actively pushing every single one of her buttons. All she had to do was buy herself some time until Alexander came to save her... He had to be looking for her, right now. She just wished he would come a little faster. The necklace still burned subtly against her skin, a faint warmth amidst the overwhelming heat of Hell.
She sucked in a shaky breath.
"Fine," she whispered, the word a struggle against the dryness in her throat. She felt the familiar burning sensation fill her body once again. Lifting her hand, fire swirled outwards, a vibrant, angry crimson. She used her other hand, trembling slightly, to maneuver the growing inferno around herself, shaping it with immense effort.
"Good... good. Control that breathing... concentrate," her father commanded, watching her every move, his eyes calculating. He then gestured to two of his demon followers, hulking figures with leathery skin and glowing eyes. He wanted her to learn to control her power, to control her anger. Demons were strong... demons were powerful, and he expected nothing less of his own daughter. In fact, he expected even more.
Lily looked at the demons, who slowly began to circle her once again. It was hard for her to focus on just one of them and the swirling fire at the same time. The fire wanted to go free... to burn everything in its path, to unleash the rage building within her, but her father expected her to be able to control it, to wield it like a precise weapon.
The yellow-skinned demon made the first move, a blur of motion, running towards her, claws raised. Lily instinctively threw a wall of fire in front of her, stopping him cold, the heat searing the air "Weak, Lily! You can't always run and hide from your problems, or you'll get killed! You have to face things head-on!" Alistair bellowed. His words, designed to provoke, shattered the fragile concentration Lily had managed to maintain.
She didn't notice the other demon sneaking around behind her. It attacked her from side, its claws raking across her chest, ripping into the fabric of her clothing with a snarl. She yelled, stumbling backward, tripping over her own feet, collapsing into her flames, which instantly dispersed into nothingness. Her hand flew to her chest, touching the torn fabric. Pulling her hand away, it was sticky with blood; the demon's claws had managed to break her skin.
She tried desperately to regain her concentration, to conjure more fire, but she could feel her whole body shaking, a primal fear paralyzing her as the demons loomed over her. It made her want to curl into a tiny ball, to disappear. She covered her face with her bloody hands, letting out a frustrated, choked sigh. It seemed she had failed her father's test yet again.
"Enough! Enough..." her father said, his voice softer now, but still laced with disappointment. She kept her hands over her face, hearing his heavy footsteps approach. She didn't want him to see her tears, to see this weakness. She hated that she appeared so vulnerable to him; he viewed her as a lump of clay that he could simply mold into whatever he wanted her to be.
But she was afraid. Afraid of this new world, of her new, terrifying powers. Everything was so different and scary... Maybe she was weak?
"Go," he said to his followers, a dismissive wave of his hand. The demons moved away, slinking back inside the penthouse. Alistair knelt down in front of her, his large frame blocking out the sickly red light of the sky. "Take your hands off your face," he ordered, his voice surprisingly gentle, yet with an undeniable edge. She didn't listen.
He slowly, deliberately, took her hands in his, pulling them away from her blood-covered face, revealing the tears running down her cheeks. "You have to be stronger than this, Lily. How will you ever rule at my side this way? I will not have someone weak by my side." He whispered the words, almost as if he cared about her feelings, but she knew it was all for show, a cruel act to mask his true expectations. He stood back up, sighing in theatrical exasperation.
She stood up abruptly, a surge of pure frustration overriding her fear. "I want to go home!" she yelled, raw anger and pain now replacing the sadness she felt. He had no right to keep her here like a prisoner.
"You're never going back. You'll stay here and rule with me. That's final," he retorted, his voice cutting and definitive.
Lily let out a primal growl, her chest burning, a familiar heat bubbling beneath her skin. She raised both her hands, shooting a torrent of red-hot magma directly at him. He smoothly stepped out of the way, a smirk touching his lips; she wasn't fast enough to hit him.
He grabbed both her wrists harshly in a tight, inescapable grip. She whimpered in pain, her bones feeling close to shattering "Like I said, you're weak. Never try to raise your fire to me again, or the next time you'll get burned," he threatened, his voice a low, chilling promise. He then pushed her away from him, her back hitting the cold, unforgiving railing overlooking Hell. She gripped the metal, breathing heavily, her body trembling. He calmly fixed his tie back in place, as if they had merely been discussing the weather.
"Now that all the melodramatics are over... you'll be doing it again." He signaled his followers to come back out. All the while, Lily silently prayed, a desperate plea in her heart, that Alex wouldn't take too long to come save her. Before it was too late.
YOU ARE READING
Miracle
عاطفية***** Lily has always been a clumsy unlucky person all her life tripping over chords bumping into walls where a normal occurrence for her in her verily normal life but a traffic light falling on her head, was a whole new level of unluckyness who kne...
