Chapter 58
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Azrael
The door snaps shut, engaging the electronic lock and securing the soundproof walls.
“The whore is ready for us.” He tilts his head toward the woman on all fours, naked and facing away from us. She’s shackled to the wall by a chain around her neck and a bag over her head. Her blonde locks flow down her back, but my cock doesn’t twitch; nothing about this scene makes me excited.
Because I’m nothing like him.
“I’m going first this time!” he declares. The prick is so excited he hasn’t even realized he’s missing a vital clue that all is not right. In any normal circumstances, I would never allow him to go first. He knows this.
He’s already undoing his belt, and when he pulls it from his pants, I know what’s about to come next.
My training is second nature; every time I’ve attempted to stop an onslaught of whippings, I then received them myself. You soon learn to stand back and watch, even when your heart is telling you otherwise.
So, while he launches the first lash through the air, I lean back on the wall and light a cigar.
It is, after all, a celebration.
“That’s it, whore!” he bellows. “You piece of shit.” He spits on her and hits her again. Harder and harder with each lash. She whines, cries, makes a gargled sound that appears to excite him, but not one of them is that of her pleasure.
He rips the bag off her head, then he steps up behind her. He yanks her head back by her hair while laughing neurotically. It’s completely deranged, the same sound that would terrify me as a small boy.
Then he stills, his body bristles, and the line on his forehead creases as he scans over her face. Her usual dark hair has been dyed a similar color to Hevan’s, but her eyes sure as hell haven’t been changed to match the blue I miss so much.
Her mouth is open; the strange sound that leaves her, it’s now clear why. Her tongue has been cut from her mouth for her actions, something I took great delight in doing.
Elizabeth clearly didn’t know when to speak and when to keep her mouth shut, so I took the organ from her to secure my plan.
He rears back. “What the fuck is this?” he spits out as his head snaps up to mine.
“This is revenge.” I grin.
The moment he registers my words, his face falls ghostly white, his jaw drops open, then just as quickly his chest rises in uncontrollable anger.
“The great and powerful Benito Carrera is angered by his son’s plan to overthrow him.” I mock with a sinister laugh. “Your empire is going to fall, Father. I’m going to destroy everything you’ve ever built,” I taunt.
“You fucking little bastard. I should have slaughtered you!” he spits out.
I throw my head back in a deranged laugh. “You did slaughter me. You stripped me of emotions.” My voice grows louder. “You wanted me to become a monster!”
“I wanted you to be strong!”
“Oh, I’m strong, alright, and it took falling in love to become it,” I snap back.
“Love is for the weak,” he hisses, his lip curling as he speaks.
“No, you were just too weak to welcome it.”
I step to the side and unveil a canister of fuel. Taking hold of it, I splash it around the room while he rushes toward the door, pulling on it frantically as though it’s going to open.
It won’t.
I’ve essentially created a crematorium. “We’re going to burn in hell together.” I smile. “The devils burning in the flames of the underworld.”
He clenches his teeth. “You’re insane!” he declares, scanning over me.
“I am well aware.” I smile and dump a load at his feet. “Are you proud?”
“You won’t get away with this.” He stabs his finger in my direction. “You won’t survive out there. My men are out there! Important members of the auction will see you rot before you get away with this.”
I brush a finger over my lip. “You’re right.” I smile. “I won’t get away with this. Nor will you or your friends. We’re all going to burn in hell together. This is our penance, Father.”
Then I throw the match toward him, causing him to shriek as his pants catch fire. He might not realize it yet, the entry room may be soundproofed, but it’s also been designed to lock down when smoke is detected. There’s no escape, he’s essentially trapped in an oven. We all are.
My eyes glow at the flames burning all around me, warming me for a million reasons, and not one of them their heat.
He’s finally going to succumb to his sins, and on his departure, he’ll be freeing hundreds of innocents of their nightmares.
He drops to the floor, screaming in agony, and Elizabeth thrashes about with strange noises coming from her open mouth that make her sound like a deranged animal.
I remain unperturbed, leaning against the wall, happy to watch the destruction of an evil empire about to go up in flames with me at the center of it.
The devil.
I was born in hell; I might as well die in it too.