A statement of a soul | Raphael x Reader

8. Tending wounds

Mephistopheles leads you to the back of the throne room, where another heavy metal door swings open, revealing an ice covered staircase. His massive devil form is used to the ice around him, but you make sure to be careful with your steps as you do your best to keep up with him, while making sure to stay a few meters behind, letting him be in the lead.

Soon after placing your foot on the top step, you hear echoes of groans, screams, yelps, all full of agony, carried across the empty Citadel. You know exactly why he insists on leading you to Raphael's cell instead of teleporting the two of you there. You know what it is. A display of power. A non-verbal promise of pain.

You find yourself swallowing quietly, your mind panicking, the only thing keeping it in place being your iron resolve. You will not back down. You will not leave until Raphael is still a tortured prisoner.

'Tell me, small fry,' his voice is quiet, but slices through the screams from the depths of the dungeon. 'Who taught you the infernal communication spell?'

You can feel a slight pinch on the skin where Mizora placed her mark. She does not want to be discovered.
'I have some infernal contacts, my lord.'

You risk a glance up at him and when your eyes met, you are certain that all blood has left your face. There is a hint of rage that flashes through his features, but he does his best to calm himself down, putting on a charming smile instead.
'I see.'

The two of you continue walking, his expensive robes sliding on top of the permanent layer of snow with a quiet rustle. You have no idea what kind of material is this, but it looks like the value of it could keep an entire city fed for at least a week. The black robe is embroidered with red thread which seems to glow despite the dimmed light of the dungeon. You are not certain, but it makes you think of the infernal ruby that Helsik told you to use as one of the ingredients of the portal to the House of Hope; you wonder for a moment if devils have some kind of infernal fashion designers for such quality to be accessible to the Lord of the Nine.

When you fully descend the staircase, you appear on a narrow, but tall corridor with multiple cells on both of the sides. You see weird creatures, some magical monsters hidden behind the bars, but then there is a gap between one section of the prison and the other.

For some reason, your gut twists and you find yourself strengthening your Ki aura, earning an amused chuckle from Mephistopheles. Before you have a chance to think about the reason behind your survival instinct suddenly kicking in, you see the answer right in front of you.

The second sector of the prison can only be described as nightmare fuel. You've seen what Raphael did to his infernal debtors, but this... This was an image of unspeakable cruelty.

You force your gaze forward, feeling Mephistopheles' eyes curiously inspecting you, as one of the prisoners appears in your sight and falls to his knees before the Lord of Cania. You don't want to see this. You don't want to have the image burnt inside your brain, but your efforts are futile.

From the corner of your eyes you see a moving mass of maggots covering the debtor's skin as he falls to his knees in front of the master of the Citadel. You take a step to the side, careful not to step on his body, but then a freezing hand catches the back of your neck. Mephistopheles' palm is big enough that a squeeze would snap the top of your spine.

'Walk over that worm,' his voice is still quiet, but the cold threat is obvious. You do not have a choice other than obedience.

A gulp suddenly forms at the back of your throat and you force yourself not to throw up. You follow his command and ignore the slippery, gushy sensation under your feet as you step on debtor's leg.