Subtlest Game: Book One - March of the Pawns

Chapter 7

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The queen of demons, leader of the Archangel Imperium and ally to the Nether armies, had been named Sin by an elderly couple of humans in a small village called Glacierford. It had not been a very original name - obvious, really. Adopt a being who embodies all lust and carnal desire of the flesh, and name her Sin. Honestly.
Maybe that was why dragging their souls to the underworld had been such fun.

Sin ran a hand down the side of her body as she traipsed along the street. She was wearing a dark blue dress, the kind that reveals and clings to every curve, adorned with black serpents. There wasn't much extra fabric, and a discreet slit in the front allowed the skirt to be parted to free her legs in an instant; Sin liked to show herself off, but she had no illusions as to the safety of the world.
There were also three discreet slits in the back of the dress, two over her shoulder blades, and one at the base of her spine. But the wings and tail that would usually have protruded out were gone for the moment, hidden by a basic glamour spell. Demons were currently nothing but a bedtime story for naughty children to the people of the Overworld, and Sin intended to keep it that way for the time being.

A few heads turned as she walked - her revealing dress and alluring aura made sure of that - but no-one dared accost her. Her clothing set her out as one of the rich elite, and it was common knowledge in Dewfrost city that such people were not to be trifled with.

She came to a halt at a door. Not a door to a mansion, lined with gold and expensive wood, nor a dark, ominous door suggestive of secret ritualistic goings on. Just a regular wooden door, somewhat grimy, but as outwardly normal as the standard wooden hut it led to.
At least, that's what the middle class thought. To the upper class, it was something else entirely.

Sin rapped a complex tattoo on the dirty, unpolished wood, and it swung open gently, revealing nothing but a dark cavity, like an overlarge upturned shoebox.
She stepped inside, and pressed a wooden panel on the left wall.
The door shut with a snap, and a soft hum caressed Sin's pale, slightly pointed ears. Cool blue light lit the elevator, revealing it to be made of waxed and polished mahogany, as a calm voice sounded out through the little box.
"Welcome to the Cross-Terra club and bar. Please ensure your shoes are clean."

Sin counted quietly. Three, four, five, si-
The door opened sharply. It revealed an entirely different world to the dismally frozen streets of Dewfrost. A square hall, nearly sixty metres wide, floored with polished wood and carpeted with plush black and deep blue carpets, walled with polished obsidian and lit with soul fire torches set in the walls, or else burning within lanterns or seated on glass chandeliers swinging gently from the ceiling.

Sin stepped out of the elevator, pausing only briefly to speak to a short, dark haired, pale skinned woman standing by the side in a maid's white trimmed black dress.
"The elevator is slipping again. Half a second over. See that it's fixed."
She swept off without waiting for an answer. There were perhaps a dozen people occupying this floor, three being served drinks at the marble bar, two attempting to flirt with the maids flitting about, and another seven watching the stage that was set into one wall.
She spared the stage a glance, giving the slightly askew chairs a critical glance as she did so. The performance appeared to be of a man and a woman confessing their love to each other, slowly discarding their garments as they did so.
Sin smiled at the faces of the men and women watching. Mostly human, with one or two kitsune and what looked to be some kind of dryad.
This was only the first floor, and the least of what her club had to offer.

She crossed to the centre of the room. Or rather, she crossed to the glass barrier that prevented customers falling into the centre. It would be a pity for the club's main attraction to be a death hazard.
A perfectly square pit, at least twenty metres by twenty metres, filled the centre of the room. Looking down, Sin could see the openings and windows of the other, lower floors. A hellfire glow lit the bottom, pulsing gently orange, because hell was what it led to. A hole, miles deep, straight from the surface of the Overworld to the roof of the Nether.