Chapter Fourteen
Kara
Hell was a damn maze.
I ran and ran—always ending up in the same room with the cell. No matter the direction, I circled back here. Again and again. It had to be the Dark One’s main room. His home, maybe.
He said there was no escape—then forbade me to try.
Which meant there had to be a way.
I just had to find it.
A sharp cramp stabbed my stomach, and I stumbled, clutching my side. The hunger was back, growing worse by the minute. I pushed forward, forcing myself through the shadows.
Another flicker of light peeked from under a familiar door. I approached, heart sinking. The same damn fireplace. The long table. The desk. The cell.
I turned on my heel, veering left into the cold dark.
I’d already searched every direction—but what else was I supposed to do? There had to be something beyond this endless bleakness. At least the bodies were gone. No more hanging chains or corpses on meat hooks. Guess he didn’t see the need to scare me anymore.
Not until he realized what I was up to.
I’d wear myself out before that happened. Or, more likely, gluttony would get to me first.
The hunger pangs came back, brutal and fast. The Devil had to be far away again. My curse didn’t like that. Another sharp pain curled through me and I doubled over, clutching my abdomen as a scream ripped from my throat.
It felt like my own bones were closing in, trying to crush me from the inside. My neck. My chest. My gut. Everything hollowed out and raw.
I wouldn’t last much longer.
This was the longest I’d gone without food since I was cursed, but it hadn’t mattered with the Devil nearby. His presence dulled the hunger.
With him gone?
That was a different story.
How long had it been? Forty-five minutes? An hour?
Oh, Hades.
Maybe more.
I’d never resisted my curse for so long before. I didn’t know what would happen when I denied it for too long—but now I did.
Pain racked every inch of my body so deeply that fear couldn’t even reach me.
There was only agony.
A growl came from my right. I clenched my teeth to muffle the scream still crawling up my throat.
Two hellhounds stood a yard away, watching me.
Heads low. Eyes fixed.
Silent.
I swiped the sweat from my brow and tried to smile through the pain.
“You two look like good boys. I bet you know where the food is.”
I took one cautious step toward them.
They yipped in unison and shrank back.
I blinked.
“Okay. Rude.” I rubbed my temples. “Animals usually love me.”
Why were they trembling?
“I won’t eat you,” I promised, half-joking. “Wait—did your master say I would?”
The hellhounds exchanged a look. Then returned their focus to me.
My heart thudded hard. A little too hard. The pain made it feel like my own pulse was trying to strangle me from the inside.
“I need food,” I rasped, more to myself now. “I need it badly.”
I’d never gone this long without eating. Never pushed my curse to the brink. Was it possible…was I turning into something else?
No. No, no, no. Not now.
But my voice cracked when I added, “Do you understand me? I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just need to eat.”
The hellhounds growled again, low and uneasy.
I tsked. “Does the Devil truly think I’d devour you two?”
Then a sudden thought hit me, and my eyes widened.
“Oh, Hades. Will I?”
Was that the true cost of gluttony unfulfilled? To turn monstrous?
The hounds gave a final glance at one another—then bolted.
“Wait!” I shouted, and stumbled after them.
They didn’t run far.
In mere seconds, the bleakness parted just enough to reveal a wooden door. It stood like a secret in the shadows. The beasts skidded to a stop in front of it, lowering into a crouch—shoulders hunched, ears pinned.
I hobbled forward, every step on fire, and stopped beside them.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’ve been running in circles…”
One hellhound cocked its head as if studying me. The other growled and stepped back.
Ignoring the pain burning under my skin, I reached out and gently patted the brave one’s head. It flinched then darted away. The other followed.
Alone again.
I turned to the door. It had no knob. Just a latch and a massive black padlock.
Of course.
“Why the lock?” I muttered to myself, casting a glance back at where the hounds had vanished. “What’s so important you have to keep it sealed away?”
I stepped closer.
My hand hovered over the latch.
Whatever it was…it had to be better than starving.
The lock was massive—bigger than both my hands combined. But with a single tug, the entire latch splintered and rippled from the wood.
The door creaked like it hadn’t been opened in centuries.
I peeked inside the crack.
Darkness. Of course. Everything in Hell was dark.
But something about this room felt…wrong.
A dull green glow pulsed from somewhere inside. Like the slow heartbeat of something buried alive. I stepped in, just a few paces, and instantly regretted it.
Dread swallowed me whole. It wasn’t cold, but chills erupted across my skin like I’d stepped into someone else’s nightmare.
I turned. The hellhounds stood at the threshold, watching—but not entering. They didn’t want to be here. If those two wouldn’t step foot inside…I shouldn’t be here either.
Panic jolted me, and I rushed back to the door.
It slammed shut in my face.
I flinched, heart lurching. “Seriously?”
The hounds had led me into... what?
Of course they wouldn’t help me. Why would they?
I knew better. But a woman could hardly think straight when her insides were twisting themselves into knots.
Another wave of pain tore through me, sharper this time. I collapsed to my knees, gasping.
My ribs felt like they were caving inward, folding and grinding, trying to crush my stomach from the outside in. I screamed and clutched my abdomen, but the pain only intensified. It wasn’t just hunger anymore. It was a curse becoming something…else.
Then I felt it.
Something was in the room with me.
My neck tingled. Every fine hair stood upright.
Even as I trembled from pain, I wasn’t alone.
The hellhounds refused to come in.
Which meant whatever was with me…wasn’t something even they could handle.
“What the hell is this place?” I whispered, breath ragged.
A wicked plan. I could feel it unfolding around me.
The Devil warned me there would be consequences. Of course he had. But I never listened.
Too stubborn. Too much Reaper in my blood. Too desperate to prove I didn’t belong here.
I wasn’t a prisoner.
I was a damn Reaper.
And my family needed me—whether they realized it or not.
Breathing through my nose, I clenched my teeth and slowly pushed myself upright.
I couldn’t stand to my full height—my body wouldn’t let me.
I was hunched, one arm clutched tightly over my stomach like I had aged seventy years in a second.
The ache was unbearable, and the air in this place was worse.
I had to get out.
The dread pressing against my chest wasn’t just discomfort. It was suffocating, crushing me.
I summoned my scythe with a trembling hand. Relief flickered in my chest when it appeared. Good. Still with me. Still sharp.
Then, feeling desperate, I faded. Only to reappear in the exact same spot.
No way out.
I knew it wouldn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t. But the panic boiling in my blood had to try anyway. I was trapped. The Devil must’ve made this room a dead zone for power.
If I couldn’t escape it, I’d destroy whatever was holding me here. Demon. Spell. Whatever. My hands tightened on my scythe’s hilt.
The room looked empty—same as always in Hell. But the air was…wrong. Warped. Warping me.
Unless the Devil willed something into existence, maybe it didn’t exist at all in this place. A grim thought. But it fit.
My throat clenched. I swallowed hard, but it did nothing. The hunger clawed at me from the inside out, and it was no longer just hunger. It was need. Starvation. Despair. I was shaking. Not just from my curse. Something else. Something worse.
Then came the growl.
Low. Guttural. Echoing.
The green glow surrounding me suddenly blurred, shifting into the shapes of demons—hundreds of them, all crouched in wait.
I whipped around, scythe raised. Only to find emptiness.
Just flickering green. No creatures. No eyes. No breath.
My mind. Was it breaking?
A voice slithered into the room, high-pitched and wrong, like sound that had never passed through lungs. “You’re a Reaper.”
It wasn’t a question.
My skin prickled. “What is this place?” I rasped, rubbing my arms against the chill.
“You’re already in pain,” the voice whispered. “I can taste it. You’ll feed me for a long time, daughter of Grim.”
Ice coiled around my spine.
“I don’t plan on being food,” I snapped, tightening my grip on the scythe.
A pause. A hiss. Then—
“Oh, little one.”
The voice grew deeper, fuller—closer.
“You’re already inside my mouth.”
My heart accelerated. Lifting my scythe, I morphed it into a thin blade and ran toward one of the walls. The sword connected. A squishy, squirting sound bubbled up as the blade sank through the wall. Blood oozed out and my eyes widened.
The creature chuckled and with horrifying clarity, I realized the sound came from every direction. “That tickled,” he said.
The ground vibrated beneath my feet. I didn’t know if that was the reason I fell to my knees again or the hunger squeezing the life out of my stomach. Nope. Get up, Kitty. There was no time to let the curse win. I might be in a freaking monster’s mouth.
No, I was, wasn’t I?
With a pained cry, I reached up, grabbed my sword from the wall, and rammed it into the floor next.
Blood squirted up, splattering my clothes.
I didn’t stop. I kept dragging the blade, ripping through the floor.
A puddle of blood formed. My boots slipped once but I righted myself and smiled.
“Thanks for letting me know where I’m at.
If you’re not going to let me out, I’ll carve a door myself. ”
I swung my weapon against the wall repeatedly.
“Kitty.” I froze at the sound of my father’s voice.