Escaping Hell

Thrown In the Fire

I can't remember how long it's been. My body has open wounds, scabs, and scars on it that I don't remember getting. Will anyone ever come to save me? Probably not. It's been long enough for them to find me, but nothing has happened. I've lost so much weight that I have begun to be able to see my ribs. My collarbones protrude more than they used to.

I've been trapped in a nightmarish, somewhat drugged state for what seems like an eternity. I can't trust anything I see or anyone I talk to. Losing who I used to be has been the worst part of this whole thing. There is no hope, and there is no way out.

This is what it is like to be Lucifer's prized prisoner.

I can hear him coming now, as he always does, to try and beat me into saying that yes, I will work for him, but he has yet to elicit a response from me. I may be young, but my mind is strong. I fail to see why I am protecting a family that won't even rescue me, but I do it anyway.

Lucifer starts with his typical, "Good morning, sunshine. How are you doing today?"

I haven't responded to this question in ages, and I don't plan on changing that.

"Very well, then. Let's get our day started," Lucifer says, grabbing his favorite knife from a cabinet in the room. He comes towards me and squats down to meet my eye level.

I feel my eyes well up with tears.

I can't do this anymore. I can't. I won't. I'm sorry.

He makes his first cut on my right forearm, and I scream in pain, as I have done so many times before. He does it a second time, and then a third. Before his fourth one, I finally say, "STOP! I'll do it. I'll do it...I'll do it."

"Good girl," Lucifer smiles, finally releasing me from the shackles. I rub my wrists as he picks me up. If I was healthy enough, I would resist his touch, but I am too worn out. He talks to me as he takes me who knows where. "Now that you've agreed, we won't have to hurt you anymore. Lucy, with your gifts and your special talents, we can rid the world of anyone who has ever wronged you. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I weakly nod, assuming that I'm supposed to agree. "Where am I going?"

"We're going to have you cleaned, fed, and well-rested. Everyone in here is now at your command. You say jump, they say 'how high?', got it?" Lucifer asks.

"Yeah," I weakly reply. I am so tired.

Then, I feel myself being put on something soft, and I feel a needle in my arm. My whole body starts to feel warm, and I fade away.

When I wake up, my body is no longer filthy, and there is no more foul taste in my mouth. I am in a soft bed, covered by scarlet sheets. My open cuts? Bandaged. There is an IV in my arm, and it's hooked up to a bag that is giving me vitamins and is keeping me hydrated. There is a plate of food to my left that looks almost too good to eat. One of Lucifer's demons comes in the room, and she is glad to see I'm awake.

"Good afternoon, Miss Gretchen," the demon smiles, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," is my only response. She nods and checks my bag, then she begins to leave, probably to tell Lucifer that I'm awake. "Wait," I say, "What day is it?"

"February tenth, Miss Gretchen," the demon tells me.

Four months. I've been here for four months. "Thank you," I mumble in response. The demon then promptly leaves my room.

In less than two minutes, I see the familiar face of Lucifer enter the room. "How's my favorite girl doing?"

I don't respond.

"I know you don't want to talk because we have had some bad times between us, but I need you to say something," Lucifer coaxes.

"You've had me here for four months," I whisper.

"Well, you're not wrong," he says, sitting down on the foot of my bed, "But listen, Lucy, I'm not the bad guy here. I needed answers and you weren't giving them to me. Now that you have, we can be friends. See how that works?"

I nod.

He then continues, "Besides, I can provide for you like your brothers never could. They didn't even come to save you, so why should you still care about them?"

He's right about them not coming, but still...

"I guess I shouldn't," I say, agreeing with him again.

"You should eat your food. I don't want the Princess of Hell to go hungry," Lucifer smiles.

"Princess of Hell?" I ask.

"Oh, you're right, I'm sorry. Queen of Hell," Lucifer laughs, getting off of the bed. I start eating my food as he leaves.

He was right. I should eat that food, and eat it more often.

After a week, I am recovered enough to begin doing Lucifer's bidding. The demons he has employed to help me have styled my hair different, done my makeup, painted my nails, and treated me like royalty.

Should I be enjoying this?

My hair is longer than I remember. My face in the mirror is much skinnier, as is my whole body. I do not look as strong as I once was, no matter how I feel physically. The demons have made my newly small body look healthy, and I actually have been gaining some of my weight back, both in muscle and fat, which is good.

I am dressed in a form-fitting scarlet shirt, black pants that make my figure stand out as well as fit well for running, and black combat boots that feel nice on my feet. I was given ruby earrings by Lucifer, and so I am wearing them, along with a locket that I can't open, but I can hear something inside of it when I shake it.

This is it, I guess.

I am now the Queen of Hell.