13. Standing at the Edge of the World #2
“You really don’t understand the dynamic between us, do you?
” I began, letting go of him to begin pacing around the desk.
His eyes followed my pacing, sweat trickling down his temple.
“I am the God of this Realm, of both Caelum and Gehenna, and of Purgatory. I am the equalizer, the final destination, the ender of all things, and you will not disrespect me in my Realm.”
“Atlas, whatever you think I’ve done, I swear I am innocent. I have done nothing but what you’ve told me-…?”
I flicked my wrist, which made an outline of Ambermourn’s face appear in smoke beside me.
Phillip clammed up the moment he saw it, his tongue physically popping in the inside of his mouth as he forced it to stop.
“Ambermourn and I had a lovely reunion as of late. We reminisced quite a bit, about our Chandler days. I also fucked him.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Phillip heaved.
I spun on my heel. “You know how Ambermourn is when he gets laid, since you two liked to have your fun as well. Out like a light, leaving me plenty of time to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“And…?”
“And I found some information in his notes; information he should not have access to. Things that no one beyond those in my close circle would know. Things that he would have learned from maybe, perhaps, an old friend?”
Phillip shook his head in bewilderment. “Atlas, what the Gehenna do I get out of giving him information? It’s not like he can exactly get me out of here, you know!”
“Maybe not, but you were faithful enough to him, grateful, even. He got you the fix you wanted, so in return, you slid him some information behind my back.”
“What fix would that be?” he bawled.
I pointed to myself. “Me.”
He swallowed loudly and jerked at the chains once more.
“Look, the past is the past. I am doing what I can to prove I have learned my lesson, trying to be flexible and loyal, but this narrative you are concocting about me is nothing more than a fabrication of your insecurities. It makes utterly no sense for me to correspond with Ambermourn!”
I reached into my pocket and procured a small golden knife, with a vial of liquid attached to the end of it. I spun the liquid in front of my eyes, peering through the handle at him. “Do you know what is inside this knife? More, what the knife is made of?”
“N-No…?” he stammered. I popped the lid of the vial and let a droplet of the liquid inside pool on my fingertip.
I then crossed the room and tilted his neck up, smirking, before smearing the liquid across his cheek.
He let out a horrified scream as the liquid burned his skin, leaving a sizeable welt across his face. “What the fuck is that?” he howled.
“Liquid Life energy: a demon’s kryptonite.
The blade is made from the same substance.
Ashlynn lent me one of her toys so I could make my point clear.
” I took the blade and slammed it against his forearm, making his ungodly screams echo through the Layer.
He thrashed in agony, trying to free himself from my attack, but I only pressed the knife deeper into his skin.
When I pulled it away, the outline of the dagger was seared into his arm, making him pant on broken cries.
“You will admit to me that you’re helping Ambermourn, or we will do this until your entire body is burned. ”
“I told you, I’m not doing anything!” he pleaded.
“Oh, really?” I pressed the knife to his neck this time, really holding it in place, and this made him scream until he lost his voice.
The sound was music to my ears, for many reasons.
I had waited years, centuries, to hear him in this agony, and I was truly relishing it.
“Admit you’re lying, Phillip! This will go a lot smoother if you do! ”
“Fuck you…!” he sobbed.
“You must really like this. Tell me, does it get you off, to have your ‘bitch’ hurt you like this?” I kept moving the knife across every inch of his exposed skin, barely giving him seconds in between burns to recover.
“What is it you told me in that cell? Oh, I think I remember. ‘Be a good boy and do as I say, and you’ll learn to like it.’ Tell me, Phillip: have you learned to like it yet? ”
“Atlas, please, stop!” he yelled, tears and sweat spewing down his cheeks.
I grabbed hold of his face and worked his mouth open, forcing his lips apart.
My eyes burned a horrid black in the reflection of his, my face contorted in such evil that I didn’t recognize myself.
“Guess we’ll have to up the ante.” I poured half the vial of liquid into his mouth, then clamped my hand down on it.
He fought desperately to not swallow the liquid but inevitably had no choice.
Once it entered his body, his veins illuminated gold, and his eyes flashed open.
An unholy screech radiated from him into my hand, and he sporadically flailed underneath me.
His body hit the desk so hard that I expected it to snap under the weight.
I waited for the side effects to wear off before letting go of his mouth.
He let out weak pants, his jaw hanging open, frozen by pain and fear.
“What did you tell Ambermourn?” I whispered in his ear.
“He asked me about the Original Gods…” he faintly began, his lips barely moving.
“He wanted to know if they were awakened, and where they were. I told him what little I knew, on the contingence he would find ways to help me gain freedom down here. He said you two had been in contact, and that he could convince you to let me see Earth again, so I told him what he wanted.”
“What makes you think I’d listen to a thing that backstabbing asshole says?”
“You slept with him. Anything is possible.”
I pondered what he said before closing the vial of the knife. “What else did he ask you?”