The Devil’s Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 11: The God-King by mypenname3000

The Devil’s Pact, The Hell Chronicles
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2015

Chapter Eleven: The God-King

Notes: Thanks to b0b for beta reading!

Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss

After decades ruling in Hell, it took more than a pretty face to excite me.

It took blood and violence.

I sat on my brass throne staring out at the latest woman brought before me for entertainment. She was newly dead, one of the, poor, deluded worshipers of Mark and Mary condemned to Hell for believing they were actual gods. Hell glutted with those individuals. Some tried to form their own petty kingdoms. But I crushed them all.

Only the damn Eastern Alliance remained to threaten me. Lilith, the Ghost, and the Lord Mayor.

Soon they would all be crushed beneath my boot.

The woman sobbed as my wife wielded her knife, flaying flesh, blood spurting on her naked, pale skin. My cock hardened. Hannah worked her mouth up and down my cock, kneeling naked before me as I watched the spectacle.

Beside Emi, Milly worked a knife on a different woman, disfiguring her permanently. Their screams of pain sang in my ear, inflaming my blood. I gripped Hannah’s black hair, fucking her mouth up and down my cock.

“Make them howl,” I growled.

My wife grinned at me, blood splattering naked, small breasts. She was a small, petite woman, her almond-shaped eyes full of violent lust. Her victim howled. My cock throbbed, my balls tightening as I savored the woman’s agony.

My cock erupted. Hannah eagerly swallowed it down. My concubines were all eager to please me. Many had cried and howled beneath Milly and Emi’s blades for disappointing me. But never Hannah or Brenda.

They had been with me from the beginning.

The doors to my throne room opened. The Samurai strode in dressed in his lacquered, red armor, his face covered by the demonic mask. He had grown with power, commanding all of my armies, and the man radiated danger as he strode through the halls.

His three beautiful concubines followed like loyal bitches. They were all beautiful and willowy, moving with demure grace even as their transparent kimono’s displayed their youthful charms. Their faces were painted like geisha.

My cock throbbed in Hannah’s mouth.

None of the Samurai’s concubines gave a second glance at the tortured women. They had witnessed such atrocities before. The City of Brass was full of violent men who served me, and I gave them all the women they could want to rape and abuse.

“The army stands ready, great God-King,” the Samurai said, kneeling and bowing. His women followed likewise, falling to their knees with the grace of snowflakes.

I grinned. “Go and destroy them.” My fist clenched. “Bring me back slaves by the thousands.”

“You shall deliver our Justice to them,” Emi purred, throwing the sobbing woman to the ground. A living woman would have died by now, but there was no death in Hell. Only eternal pain. Emi snapped her fingers, and her hulking hound walked forward.

The demonic beast had glutted on souls for decades, growing to the size of an elephant. The beast was a monstrous mastiff with black skin stretched over jagged bones. It’s long, black tongue lolled out as its obsidian claws clicked on the brass. It reached the woman, swallowing her whole in a single bite.

Emi stroked it and purred, “That’s my good boy.”

“Lead my armies,” I commanded the Samurai. “Deliver me my enemies.”

“Your will, great God-King,” he answered.

With his women, he rose, turned, and walked out of the court. His women were always at his side. The Samurai feared for their safety. And rightly so, they were among the most beautiful creatures in Hell, still so innocent and pure.

Emi walked forward, blood dripping down her body, a vicious smile on her face. I pushed Hannah to the side as my wife mounted me, her passions burning hot after her torture. Her tight, hot cunt slid down on my cock, her muscles working as she pumped her hips.

“Once the Samurai returns,” she whispered in my ear. “We have no further need of him.”

“I guess,” I panted.

“I want his women. I want to play with them.” She let out a throaty moan. “Let his reward be their degradation at our hands.”

I laughed as my cum exploded from my cock into her sopping depths. “That is why you’re my Queen.”

The Samurai grew too powerful anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Ghost

I lounged with my women. Their pretty bodies pressed up against me in a sea of flesh. I loved them all, sharing my touch. It was a pleasant way to pass the weeks in Hell. An endless orgy. I spread myself across all my women, my cock slamming into a cheerleader’s tight ass before I rutted atop one of my daughters.

And the women all touched me, licking and nuzzling, gasping and moaning.

My cock buried into Rhonda May’s cunt, her twin sister straddling her face. Marissa gasped and moaned, working her slim hips as Rhonda May licked her pussy. I pumped my pecker faster, loving the taboo lines.

Beside us, the busty redhead Carla tribbed with our daughter Annabeth. Ophelia, another of my daughters, nuzzled at Rhonda May’s pussy, licking where my pecker entered her cooch. Almost all of my harem was here. Only Marybeth, Ursula, and Gabriella were gone, out watching the border.

I hoped Brandon would be content with all the land he’s swallowed to the west. But I knew his covetous gaze would return to my land. I had grown in power over the last forty years, adding more followers and expanding the borders of the forest.

But Brandon’s empire dwarfed mine.

“Fuck her, Daddy,” cooed Ophelia. “I love the way your cock spread her open.”

I pounded my hips faster, forgetting my problems in the sweet flesh of Rhonda May’s hot cunt. No one aged in Hell. It was paradise. All my women were as beautiful as they were forty years ago.

Boy, time seemed to pass in Hell.

“Pound my sister’s twat,” moaned Marissa as she writhed on Rhonda May’s tongue. “The fuckin’ whore loves it.”

“We all love his pecker,” laughed Heather, the redhead had our daughter Donna nursing at her breast while Heather fingered Donna’s cunt.

My balls boiled. I buried my pecker into Rhonda May’s sweet cooch. “Hot damn, but I love fuckin’ your snatch,” I panted. “Gonna flood your cooch with a big ol’ load.”

Rhonda May shuddered, her pussy convulsing about my cock as her orgasm burst through her.

“Oh, she’s ready for it,” gasped Marissa. “Oh, yes. I’m fixin’ to cum on your face, sweet sister.”

My balls erupted. My pecker spewed cum into Rhonda May’s cooch. I let the bliss wash through me. I wanted to savor it forever, to never lose this feeling. I pulled out, whirling about, and shoved my pecker into Ophelia’s hungry mouth.

“Fuck our daughter’s hot, li’l mouth,” laughed Tammy as she pounded her wife Cheryl-Lynn with a big strap-on.

Both girls bucked and writhed. I remembered that Saturday afternoon I fucked them both in the park’s bathroom, knocking up Tammy with Ophelia. I had scared her boyfriend so bad he pissed his pants and ran off like a baby.

“You have a purtee mouth, daughter,” I groaned, slamming in deep. “You suck my pecker like a hungry calf at her mother’s teat.”

“I taught her well,” Tammy panted. “Cum in her mouth. Give the little slut what she craves.”

Ophelia moaned about my cock, sucking harder.

“Ghost,” Marybeth called out. “Brandon’s on the move. He’s marching on the Sulfur Plains.”

I stopped fucking Ophelia’s mouth. All the women froze, their moans silenced. “Well, then I reckon we best let our allies know and get the army in the field.”

“We’ll kick his ass,” Latonya cried, the black, young woman standing up, her cheerleader outfit flashing about her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chantelle Paquet-Holub

I stood behind Lilith, my wife Lana beside me. Lilith faced the assembled might of our forces, all the monstrous daughters she had spawned in the year she ruled Seattle, and all the women we had liberated from the brutality of men. More women, and men transformed into women, had joined us over the last forty years, along with the demonic hordes that had once belonged to Astarte.

“The Tyrant who dares call himself God-King marches,” Lilith announced, looking glorious and beautiful, her silver hair falling about her naked shoulders. “This upstart thinks a man is better than women.”

A roar went up from the troops.

“Well, he’s wrong! Women have always been stronger than men. We’ve always had to baby them, care for them, coddle them. No more. We are free. This is a paradise where women can spend their eternity in peace. If Brandon thinks to take that away, we’ll show him just how fierce and powerful we are!”

“Lilith!” the women and monstrous daughters screamed. “For Lilith! For Lilith!”

Lilith spread her arms wide, drinking in their cheers and love. “Your loving mother leads you. We shall not fail against this bastard. We shall crush his armies, crucify his mongrel generals, and see Brandon and his whore-queen are flayed and punished for the next ten thousand years.”

“Lilith! Lilith!”

I nodded, pleased with the speech. The energy from our followers flowed into us, their emotions charged. Lana and I returned it to our fighters, granting them weapons and armor, stiffening their spirits with our discipline.

“We shall wipe the scourge of men clean from Hell!” Lilith cried, throwing her arm up.

*Perfect,* Lana whispered in my mind.

Lilith turned from the podium, walking to us. Cora fell in beside the goddess, Lana’s hulking daughter had a fang-filled grin. She was eager for the violence. Manticore’s loved to fight, they lived for it.

Brandon army didn’t stand a chance.

“Did I do good?” Lilith asked, a sycophantic smile on her face.

After forty years, no sign of our Goddess’s spine had ever returned. Mark had broken her thoroughly. Now she merely played at being a Goddess, a figure head to keep the women and her daughters in line.

“You did wonderful, pet,” I purred, stroking her hair like a bitch.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Lilith moaned, falling to her knees to lick at my toes.

“We don’t have time for that,” Lana snapped. “And stand up before someone sees you, cunt.”

I couldn’t believe I had once worshiped this pathetic creature. I died for her. What a fool I had been.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lilith gasped, scrambling up.”I forgot myself.”

Cora snarled in disgust.

“Let’s destroy Brandon,” Lana smiled.

I couldn’t wait. So many women were brutalized by that man. Even now, our allies marched. The Ghosts forces streamed out of his forest and my daughter, Lamia, and her spouses led their army from Molech’s Oven.

Lana and I mounted our nightmares and followed Lilith as she led our forces out of the Obsidian Mountains onto the Sulfur Plains. This time, we would defeat the Samurai and Brandon’s forces.

I couldn’t wait to get my vengeance. Even after forty years, I remembered the slave collar the Samurai put around my neck. The Samurai was as monstrous as the madman he served. He deserved to spend an eternity crucified, howling between those three whores that served him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Samurai

“It appears to be going well, my Lord,” Hikaru commented.

I nodded. I watched the battle from a large, sulfur hill as I sat astride my nightmare. After forty years, I had never bothered to name the demonic steed. My three concubines surrounded me, demurely sitting in their saddles on their terrible mounts.

“Their center is collapsing,” I observed. “The Ghost flees with his harem. His soldiers have lost heart.”

“They lack your discipline, my love,” Orihime complimented, nodding her head towards me.

“No man has our Lord’s discipline,” Chisato laughed, a pure, beautiful sound barely heard above the violence on the plains.

To the north, my forces had rolled around the flank, surrounding the Lilithites. They had been the fiercest fighters. They should have held the center. Now that the Ghost forces were fleeing, I could bring my center to bear on the Lilithite monsters.

“It will not be much longer,” I said.

“The Lord Mayor’s forces still seem in good array,” Orihime said, peering to the south.

“Only because I have ignored them. They will not be able to hold out.”

“How wonderful, my Lord,” gushed Hikaru.

I heard the nervousness in her voice. What would happen when the greatest enemies to the God-King were routed? Would he continue to reward me, or would his Queen finally try to claim my women?

I should have fled years ago.

But there was no place to flee to. Hell was vast, but Brandon already controlled half of it. What remained was petty domains that did not have a tenth the strength of even the Ghost’s forces, let alone the God-King. There was no force in Hell that could challenge Brandon now.

It may take another forty years before Brandon finished conquering Hell, but he would have it all. I must continue to keep his favor to protect my women.

“The Lilithites are breaking, my Lord,” Chisato called.

“But they are encircled. Only a few will escape.”

“The God-King will be pleased,” Orihime said, relief in her voice.

Hopefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Svitlana “Lana” Paquet-Holub

The metal collar snapped about my neck. Humiliation seethed inside me as the disgusting man groped my breast. Beside me, my wife knelt, her face stony, ignoring the band of metal about her neck. Lilith blubbered like a child, unable to maintain any poise as she was collared like a bitch.

We had lost. All our strength had been useless against the Samurai’s soldiers. They moved together, acting almost as one entity. They were trained and disciplined. At first, when the monsters crashed into the lines, I thought we would easily win. We had so many daughters, so many monsters bred to fight, and the Samurai only had men.

But those men did not break. Their spears took down the giant re’em, winged lammasu, the manticores, the devers, the tir, the fire-breathing tannim. All were defeated. Then the Ghost fled like a coward, abandoning us to our fate.

I bet he and his women turned invisible, skulking off to his forest to hide like the weasels they were.

My chain was tugged, the soldiers ready to march them back to Brandon.

My hope died. My shoulders slumped.

*Keep strong,* Chantelle whispered in my mind as the tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

*Why?* A yawning despair opened up. *Brandon won. Who can challenge him? We’ll be tortured for eternity.*

*You have to keep hoping. There always is a chance! Don’t give up, Lana.* Chantelle reached out, holding my hand, giving me a squeeze.

I didn’t squeeze back. She was wrong. There was no hope.

I plodded along behind the endless chain of prisoners, leaving behind the slaughtered daughters of Lilith as they howled in endless pain, their bodies dismembered. My Cora was out there. She had been hacked down trying to protect us.

I would never see her again.

We marched without rest. My body ached, my feet were cut to ribbons when we reached the red, blasted lands around Dis. I sobbed with every step. I no longer had the vast powers I had grown used to possessing. Like Mark had broken Lilith, the Samurai had broken me.

The brass walls of Dis loomed ahead. We marched through the gates. We would never escape here. We would be swallowed up and brutalized. Chantelle never let go of my hand. She never stopped whispering in my mind.

She was stronger than me.

I wished I could comfort her.

But there was nothing left inside me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emi Yoshida

I watched the endless procession approach from the balcony of our Brass Palace. From here, the entirety of Dis was spread out before us, and beyond the blasted, red lands. Our victorious army, leading a train of women for my husband and I to play with, approached the city. I could see them clearly, warping the reality of Hell to act as a focusing lens without even thinking. An excited thrill went through me as I gazed at the women I most wanted to play with. Busty Orihime, Chisato, and Hikaru all rode at the head of the column beside the Samurai.

Forty years of denial ended today. My hand stroked the head of my dog, sliding across his dry, leathery skin. He panted, his tongue flicking in and out. His breath was fetid with blood. I loved that scent.

“Once I’ve finished with them, you’ll get to eat them one by one,” I purred. “But it will be years before I tire of their beauty.”

My pussy itched, a trickle of desire running down my leg. I would start with Orihime. I had come so close to possessing her all those years ago. My fingers clenched, eager to feel her soft flesh beneath my fingers, her tongue licking my body, her blood bathing my lips.

“Patience,” I purred. “Soon you’ll get to eat the Samurai. I want his women to watch as he dies. I want to savor the horror as they realize their fates.”

Brandon strode up, lust in his face as he stared at the approaching concubines. My husband was just as eager as I was for our new spoils. We ruled Hell. No woman should be out of our reach. We should enjoy every last one of them.

The column reached the city walls, the thick barrier obscuring my view of the lovely geisha. I focused on the maw-like main gate of Dis, waiting for the Samurai and his women to appear so I could gaze at their porcelain faces once more, picturing them twisted in agony.

My fingers tightened on my hounds flesh as they appeared, the army passing into the city through the thick gates. The soldiers broke off in columns, dispersing through the city to celebrate in the barracks. A horde of women awaited our soldiers lust.

My excitement grew, a fire billowing to life inside my slim body. I stroked my hound, savoring the disgusting feel of his leathery hide. He was eager. I had trained him for this moment for decades, glutting him on the souls of so many women to grow him to this monstrous size.

“Such beauties he brings,” Brandon smiled. “There’s Lilith in the front, her whore priestesses right behind her.”

Most of the women prisoners were taken to the holding pens to be sorted. The prettiest would be sent to serve in the palace. Some would remain as our servants, and others would feed our bloodlust. A flash of Orihime, blood spurting down her heavy breasts, burst in my mind.

I groaned, pressing my thighs together.

Brandon chuckled beside me. He so enjoyed to watch me dispense Justice.

Now only the Samurai, his geisha, and a few, choice prisoners approached the palace. Hooves rang on the brass as they reached the palace steps. The Samurai and his women dismounted, their mounts flashing away in bursts of fire, dismissed until needed. The Samurai still held the prisoner’s chains, pulling them up the stairs towards us.

My excitement mounted. Brandon retreated to his throne, not as large as the one in the main audience hall, but a grand seat nonetheless. His favorite whores—Hannah, Milly, and Brenda—lounged at the feet, preening and purring, aroused by the impending violence. Milly had a dagger in her hand, tapping the flat edge against her breast.

I smiled; she was eager to butcher a woman for Brandon’s pleasure.

The Samurai led up five women and a man. My eyes fell on them. The man’s shoulders were straight, walking with a determined pride—the Lord Mayor. Two women walked behind him, a Korean beauty, her slanted eyes fierce, and a violet-haired slattern with large breasts that seemed to defy gravity as they bounced and jiggled. A silver haired woman—Lilith—slinked behind a curvy blonde and a graceful, raven-haired beauty. The blonde’s eyes were downcast, her shoulders sagging, broken by her capture.

The Samurai reached the top, striding past where I lounged at the edge, leaning against my hound. The Samurai’s women kept their eyes forward, hovering near their husband. I squeezed my thighs again, my juices trickling down my thigh.

“Great God-King,” the Samurai announced, kneeling before Brandon, the geisha bowing with their almost inhuman grace. Their yukatas stretched tight over their asses. I licked my lips. It was almost time for my fun. “I have returned victorious. Your enemies have been routed and defeated. I present the Lord Mayor, his two wives, Lilith, and her two high priestesses.”

“No Ghost?” Brandon asked.

“His army routed first, abandoning his allies. I ran them down, but the Ghost and his concubines eluded me. I have elements hunting them, but with his powers, I have little hope of finding him.”

“You broke his strength?” Brandon demanded.

“I did, God-King.”

Brandon strode forward, glaring at the Lord Mayor. “Well, well, well. You have risen far since I last saw you.”

The Lord Mayor didn’t answer.

“And your lovely wife Yun,” Brandon smiled, touching her cheek. “I remembered how much she screamed as Molech raped her.”

“Bastard!” the Lord Mayor shouted, lunging forward. Brandon waved his hand. The chain about the Lord Mayor tightened, crushing his airway. With a choking cry, the Lord Mayor fell to his knees, clawing at the metal.

“Milly, here’s your toy,” my husband said, pointing at Yun as she knelt beside her husband.

Brandon retreated to his throne as Milly advanced, her dagger tapping on her thigh. Yun’s screams sang in my ears as Milly went to work. The other prisoners watched in horror at Milly’s cruelty. My pussy wept juices.

“Samurai,” Brandon said. “You have again crushed my enemies and delivered me such delightful spoils.”

“It is my honor to serve.”

Brandon glanced at me. “And such fidelity deserves its reward.”

I snapped my fingers, pointing at the Samurai’s back.

My hound growled, his claws clicking on the brass as he sprang, leaping in the air at the Samurai.
“My Lord,” Orihime cried in warning.

The Samurai rose and turned, moving faster than a man in armor should. He shoved Orihime out of the way of my hound’s leap with one hand, the other drawing his katana in a blur. Chisato and Hikaru, his other concubines, moved behind him, gasping in alarm.

The sword sliced through the air and glanced off the leathery hide of my beast.

I laughed as my hound crashed into the Samurai, throwing him to the floor. I walked forward reaching Orihime as she scrambled to her feet. I seized her hand, pulling her to me, my lips pressing on hers, claiming her mouth as mine.

She struggled in my arms, fighting me as my hands tore her yukata open, her large breasts spilling out. My hands found her heavy orbs, squeezing and kneading her delightful, spongy melons, her nipples hardening beneath my assault.

Over her shoulder, I watched the Samurai. He was pinned beneath my hound, the beast growling, dripping saliva on the warrior’s demonic war mask. One of my beast’s paws was planted on the Samurai’s sword arm the other on his chest.

I kissed harder, pinching Orihime’s nipple with one hand, the other thrusting between her thighs and shoving two fingers into her pussy. She shuddered, her body responding to my touch. I pumped my fingers, breaking the kiss to whisper in her ear.

“I want you to cum while my beast devours your love,” I purred, my thumb grinding on her clit.

My beast snapped its jaws down at the Samurai’s face, catching his war mask and prying it off. It threw the twisted metal away and lunged again. The Samurai roared, thrusting his left arm up, catching the beast’s lower jaw and stopping its snapping bite.

The Samurai strained as I pumped my fingers faster in Orihime. “He struggles so vainly to survive, but it’s futile,” I moaned, slipping a third finger into the whore’s cunt. “You’ve seen my beast feast. He devours souls. Your love will be gone forever.”

“No!” Orihime roared, her hands pushing at me, trying to shove me away.

“My love,” Chisato cried out, and suddenly the helpless woman was clad in armor, a naginata in her hand. She swung the pole-arm, the sword-like blade at the end crashing into my hound’s shoulder. Hikaru also became clad in armor, an asymmetrical bow, the yumi, appearing in her hands. She pulled and released, an arrow feathering my hound’s eye.

The beast howled in pain, lunging back from the Samurai, trying to use its great paw to pull out the shaft.

“What?” I demanded. “How?”

“Do you think our Lord did not see your lust-filled eyes,” Orihime hissed. I gasped as she planted a knife into my stomach.

It hurt.

I screamed, stumbling back, staring down at the hilt of the dagger protruding from my guts, a triumphant smile on Orihime’s face. How did she hurt me? I had so much power. Brandon half-rose on his throne, gaping in astonishment.

For forty years no one had defied us. My brain struggled to work as I tried to pull the dagger from my guts.

My hound roared in pain again, the Samurai’s sword cutting through its paw as the warrior rose.

“Kill him!” Brandon screamed.

Milly, splattered in Yun’s blood, charged at the Samurai. His sword flicked. Milly’s head went flying, howling in pain the entire time. Her head bounced and rolled, stopping at my feet as her body twitched and convulsed.

Fire flashed. A nightmare appeared. With ease, the Samurai mounted. Chisato and Hikaru, their armor vanishing, leaped easily onto the mount’s back, clinging to the warrior. “You feckless bastard!” the Samurai bellowed. “After all I have done, all the enemies I have conquered for you. I built your power, and you repay my service with death!”

“I am the God-King of Hell!” Brandon bellowed. “I will do as I please.”

The Samurai reached up, an iron collar flashing into being about his throat for a moment. With a mighty heavy, he broke the chain of his servitude. He was no longer bound to us. The Samurai’s face was hard, flinty stone as he stared at me.

“Brandon!” I cried out as he spurred his horse nightmare forward, galloping at me.

Fear gripped my belly. His blade, dripping Milly’s blood, raised up to attack me. I fell into a ball, curling to protect myself and ignoring the flare of pain in my stomach. But instead of attacking me, he scooped up Orihime, pulling her up into the front of his saddle. The Nightmare vaulted over me and galloped down the stairs.

“Guards!” Brandon roared, striding to me. “Close the gates! Stop him!”

“Yes, God-King,” a soldier said, gaping at the fleeing Samurai.

Why wasn’t the soldier moving? Our men were disciplined, trained. They had backbone, obeying orders without thought.

“Go!” my husband bellowed, bending down to rip out the dagger from my gut. My flesh healed with my powers.

“He was connected to them,” I whispered.

“What?” Brandon demanded, grabbing Milly’s screaming head and shoving her back onto her body.

“The Samurai was connected to our troops. They were chained to him. He broke that connection. We just lost the discipline of our army.”

Brandon’s face darkened. “Get him back,” he roared at the gaping guard.

The soldier didn’t move. Brandon’s fist balled, and he slammed it into the guard’s face. The idiot soldier’s head exploded like an overripe melon. Brandon roared again, seizing the still-heaving body and hurling it down the palace’s stairs.

Murderous rage possessed my husband, and his fists rained down on the prisoners, beating all of them as the Samurai galloped out of our city, escaping into the red rocks. I picked up the dagger Orihime stabbed me with and turned to the prisoners.

Justice needed to be dispensed. I advanced on the black-haired priestess—Chantelle—as she cradled her blonde wife. Chantelle fixed me with defiant eyes. Her screams were satisfying as I put out her eyes.

She would do until I could get my hands on Orihime again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 6th, 2054 – Mary Glassner – South Hill, WA

“Do not touch our daughter!” I commanded, steel in my voice.

Mark lay on the ground, his eyes staring up in pain. I held his hand, kissing his knuckles as the life slowly left his body. What had happened to my poor daughter to drive her to kill us? I could see the love in her eyes as she stared down at Mark. Chase’s eyes widened at the horror of what she had done.

“We all die when he does!” Candy objected. “If none of you will kill the bitch, then I’ll…”

“You will do nothing!” 51 roared.

51, our chief bodyguard, struggled with Candy. Her gun barked and Candy fell back, clutching her stomach. Sam fell to Candy’s side, cradling her dying wife. That didn’t matter. We were all about to die.

Our daughter used the Mispach dagger on Mark. He was dying. The only way to save him was to kill Chase. I couldn’t do that. And neither could Mark. I squeezed his hand tighter.

Chase knelt on the other side of Mark, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she sobbed, such anguish in her voice—my heart broke for her. Mark and I had failed our daughter. “It had to be done. Your tyranny had to be stopped. I couldn’t take the chance that you wouldn’t listen.”

Mark looked from me then to our daughter his face contorting in pain. His lips struggled to move, but he finally whispered, “I forgive you.”

Mark died.

I felt it in my soul. Forty years ago, I had made a Pact with Lucifer. I chained my life to his. As my husband’s soul fell into Hell, he pulled me down with him.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into Darkness.

Then Darkness gave way to heat, to fire.

A searing heat washed over me. I opened my eyes, staring out at blasted, blood-red rocks. Anguished wails echoed, the damned screaming from a city of brass built on a hellish plain dotted with rifts that smoked sulfurous fumes.

Mark’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

“Together forever,” I whispered.

Mark snapped a collar made of red, pitted iron from his neck. A matching chain crumbled away as it led off into the distance—his pact with Lucifer. I found my own collar. It crumbled into rust as I ripped it. Mark and I had far more power than Lucifer ever possessed. We had the power of all the greater demons that had escaped hell—Lucifer, Lilith, Molech, Astarte, Dagon, and more.

More souls appeared around us. When Mark died, he dragged more than my soul down into Hell—he dragged all those bound to us by the Zimmah ritual—our sluts, the bodyguards, our servants, our families, and our closest friends. An army appeared on the hill around us, ready to fight for us as fervently in death as they had in life.

Those sluts who had died before us greeted Mark and me with enthusiasm and kisses. It was wonderful to hold Karen, April, and Xiu again while Chasity knelt with the bodyguards. I never forgot the day Chasity died to save my life.

“I missed you all,” Mark told April, Karen, and Xiu. “You were never forgotten.”

“Thank you, Master,” Xiu smiled, her eyes misty with emotion. “We swore to serve you forever.”

I looked around, seeing my mother and father, my sisters and their families, the children the sluts bore for Mark. But I didn’t see our daughter. Where was Chase?

Why hadn’t our daughter appeared? She was bound to us by the Zimmah ritual. I saw it in her eyes. She expected to die with us. I looked up. Was our daughter alone up there, surrounded by our corpses, crushed by her guilt? I concentrated on her, and almost wept.

She was in so much pain.

Mark and I had failed her. We had conquered the world, given mankind a utopia, but we could never make our daughter happy. All we had to do was give it up. We were selfish. We wanted our power, we deluded ourselves that she would come around eventually.

There had to be a way to help her. I’m sure there was a way to help her.

I could sense Mark’s thoughts, our souls so linked together and the barriers of reality so thin here in Hell, his emotions bled through our bond into me. *Chase is a better person than I ever was. I hoped one day I could tell her that; then, maybe, we could be a family again.*

*We will,* I sent to comfort him and to comfort myself. *She just needs time. And we have all the time in the universe now.*

I felt better. Between Sam and Karen, I knew a way would be found to help Chase.

“What are your commands, Master?” Violet asked as she held her wife, Cindy.

“We’re ready to kick some ass!” Alison shouted, her face eager. Our first slut had conjured a machine gun, red flames flickering across the black metal. How did she do that?

Mark glanced at me, squeezing my shoulder, before looking out at our family and followers. For a split second, black chains flashed around all their necks, connecting them to Mark and me.

The boyish grin that had won my heart flashed across Mark’s face. “Well, I’ve heard it said that it’s better to rule in Hell.”

I grinned, looking out at the city of brass in the distance.

To be concluded…

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