Page 3 of Queen of the Wicked
“You have two options available.” Erebos squatted down so he was eye-level with him, the breath hitchingin the man's throat when he looked into the eyes of pure blackness. Pureevil. “You remain a sadistic imbecile with a superiority complex, which is of no use to me, or you admit you’re willing to repent for your sins. Your choice.”
He gulped as his body trembled—a liquid dripping down the pant leg of his shorts onto the stone slab.
“If you refuse, there’s always another option.” He smiled sinfully and glanced down at the swishing lava beneath them. All it would take was a simple tilt of his head to toss his body into the depths of the lava, and due to the lack of new souls recently, the magic in him was practically begging for it. The chance of a new prospect, especially one as horrid as Gregory, had the darkness inside himurgingthe pursuit of death.
“I-I’ll do whatever you want,” the man relented as he followed his gaze to the bubbling magma. “Whatever you need. Anything.Please.”
With a simple once over, Erebos didn’t see anything useful in him. He was weak, spineless, and despite what he claimed minutes before being thrown to his death, Gregory was only apologizing to appease him. He didn’t truly feel remorse for those women. He never would.
For the administered souls whodidfeel remorse, Erebos dealt with them accordingly. Thieves, those who committed tax fraud, and other petty criminals craved a second chance. Erebos could see the potential in them, their willingness to change.
But no rapist was capable of redemption.
Since Erebos had full jurisdiction over Hell, he could do whatever he wanted with Gregory. Toss him into the lava, sever his head, tie him up, and throw knives at himuntil he bled out slowly and painfully at his feet… The options were endless.
There’s nothing quite like turning the tables on someone and watchingthemcower.
Those women never received a chance for revenge, their souls too pure to encounter a dark place such as Hell, so Erebos would gather the darkness that lingered beneath his skin and bestow that revengeforthem.
Flashing Gregory a manic smile in return, he reveled in the fear he found. “How do you feel about monsters?”
“W—what?” His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish.
“Monsters,” the lord repeated. “You know, creatures that haunt the dungeons below. Creatures with claws and teeth longer than the length of your arm.” His voice dropped lower, into a menacing growl. “Creatures that willhopefullybite that puny dick of yours off.”
Gregory’s eyes bulged out of his head. “I-I don’t want to be locked up, man! I can’t be. I’ll never survive down there. Oh, God.”
Erebos barked out a laugh. “Don’t call for him now. There hasn’t been a decent god in Heaven for decades. He wouldn’t save you.”
Or, maybe he would, but it wouldn’t be the type of sanctuary the man in front of him was taught in those churches of his growing up—the churches that had no idea he was arapist.
“You don’t think you deserve to be broken down? To be punished? Believe me when I say the creatures there will beverypleased to meet you.” Then, after a beat, he added, “The only favor I ask is that when you’re secondsaway from taking your last breath… Before your flesh disintegrates and your soul burns into the depths of nothingness when you enter the Unknown, never again seeing the light of day, I want you to remember their names. Can you tell me their names, Gregory?”
His chubby face turned white as a sheet, and it wasn’t long after that before he passed out on the stone slab at his feet.
Typical response.
“Monica and Victoria,” Erebos muttered for him. “Makers rest their souls.”
A pair of sliding doors opened, and Ambroz, the lord’s skeletal servant, floated through the door with an envelope. He knew not to interrupt his torture sessions unless absolutely necessary, so it must have been important.
“Your Majesty,” he apologized, bowing so his skull was fully displayed. “A letter I suspect you will need to read at your earliest convenience. It arrived via golden transport.” The fastest mailing system of Heaven was only beheld by those with powerful magic. With a snap of their fingers, they could send a letter to anyone they desired in a matter of seconds.
The thin envelope landed in his hands, a shimmering aura that insinuated it had been enchanted by someone orsomething.This couldn’t have come from anyone in Hell, as they didn’t use letters to communicate. And this envelope didn’t have the royal seal from Heaven. There was no angel wing emblem, no stamp of approval…
This letter must have come from Earth.
Erebos controlled that realm himself, which meantarchangels and anyone from Heaven required his permission to visit. Herarelyvisited Earth unless necessary; he had commanders who patrolled it on his behalf.
The gold ink stood out against the tan envelope, which had his name inscribed on the front in a single line, with no return address. Whoever sent it to him didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.
“Is there a clue as to who sent this?” Erebos asked.
The skeleton shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. It arrived on my desk just a minute ago.”
Erebos twirled the envelope between his fingertips and gave him a nod. “Very well. Thank you. Please ensure that our newfriendbecomes acquainted with the dungeons. He will reside there for a few weeks before entering the Unknown.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course.”
