Hells diary

Chapter two

>>>The Desecration of the Sacred
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Wrath, one of the aristocrats of Hell, emerged from the shadows, his presence a dark omen. His destination was the venerable St. Michael's Cathedral, a bastion of faith and piety. As he stepped inside, the sacred energies within the church reacted to his malevolent aura, causing the air to distort and the pews to creak in protest.

"Ah, Wrath, long time no see," Father Michael, the church's leader, said with a hint of sarcasm, his eyes narrowing in disdain. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Wrath's gaze drifted to a young girl, no more than thirteen years old, chained to the altar. Her hair was disheveled, her teeth gritted, and foam flecked her lips. Her eyes, once innocent, now burned with an otherworldly darkness.

"I came to visit an old friend, Michael," Wrath said in a tone devoid of emotion, yet sending shivers down the spines of the clergy. The girl's voice, now a deep, hoarse whisper, replied, "Thane, you miss me."

The air grew thick with malevolent energy as Wrath declared, "I've come to witness the spectacle before you're dragged back to Hell." The girl's body began to contort, her voice rising in a chilling cackle that shook the very foundations of the church.

As the ritual commenced, the nuns and priests prayed in unison, their voices a soothing melody:

"Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio;
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur;
tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis,
Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
divina virtute in infernum detrude."

(Translation: "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the divine power, thrust into hell Satan and all other evil spirits.")

The exorcist, Father Elijah, began the rite of expulsion, his voice firm and resolute:

"Exorcizo te, omnis immundus spiritus,
in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis,
et in nomine Jesu Christi Filii Dei vivi,
et in virtute Spiritus Sancti,
absterge a nobis omnem immunditiam,
et abstergo te, Asmodeus, omnis exercitus tui,
et expello te, et repellimus ab his fidelibus,
in nomine Jesu Christi Dominus nostri."

(Translation: "I exorcise thee, every unclean spirit,
in the name of God the Father Almighty,
and in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God,
and in the power of the Holy Spirit,
cleanse us from all impurity,
and I cast thee out, Asmodeus, and all thy minions,
and I expel thee, and we repel thee from these faithful,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.")

As the prayer concluded, the demon's hold on the girl weakened, and with a final, defiant scream, it shrieked:

"NOOOOO! I SHALL NOT GIVE UP THIS BODY!
NOOOOO! I SHALL NOT GIVE UP THIS BODY!
NOOOOO! I SHALL NOT GIVE UP THIS BODY!"

Wrath's grin twisted into a malevolent smile as he called out, "Ah, but I do, Asmodeus. And with that knowledge, I bid thee farewell."

The demon's scream echoed through the church as it fled the girl's body and possessed the goat brought to the altar. The clergy, undeterred, completed the ritual, and with a swift stroke, the exorcist ended the goat's life, banishing the demon back to the depths of Hell.

Wrath's parting words hung in the air like a dark omen: "Tell my winged brother, Azrael, I came for a visit. Until next time, mortals..." And with that, the darkness swallowed him whole, leaving the shaken clergy to ponder the implications of his ominous visitation.

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Wrath's presence materialized in a quiet neighborhood, drawn by an unseen force. His eyes scanned the surroundings, and soon, he discovered the source: a lifeless body lying on the ground. Wrath's irritation grew as he realized the boy was still breathing, albeit barely.

"Is this supposed to be my mate?" Wrath thought, his mind seething with annoyance.

Without hesitation, Wrath carried the boy's body to his house in the human realm, a place he maintained to acquire "pets" for his twisted games. He undressed the child, tended to his wounds, and then paused, questioning his own actions. "What the fuck am I doing?" he thought, his mind momentarily conflicted.

But Wrath's dark nature soon prevailed. He administered drugs through multiple syringes and placed the child in the basement, a room resembling a prison cell. Leaving the boy to recover and awaken from his slumber, Wrath entered a forbidden room, one that no one dared to enter: the Sanctum of Pain and Pleasure.

This chamber was a testament to Wrath's depraved taste in design, filled with unspeakable horrors that no one would dare imagine. The walls were adorned with twisted artwork, depicting scenes of agony and ecstasy. The air was heavy with the stench of death and suffering, and the walls seemed to whisper the screams of the damned. Candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Wrath moved deeper into the room. In the center, a grandiose throne sat atop a dais, surrounded by instruments of torture and pleasure. Here, Wrath would unleash his true nature, and the boy would soon become a part of his twisted games.

The Sanctum of Pain and Pleasure was a realm where Wrath's darkness reigned supreme, where the boundaries of pleasure and agony blurred, and where the boy's fate would be sealed.