Satan's Affair by Carlton, D. (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📗

then switches tactics, balancing on his good foot while using his knee and fingerless hand to clutch the handle. He wobbles and falls before he can make any progress. He’s lost too much blood and is becoming weaker.

“Here I come,” I taunt, coming further down the stairs.

Snarling, he whips away from the door and drags himself down the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall for support. Quickly, I descend the rest of the stairs and watch as he painstakingly makes his way into the kitchen. He glances back at me, his eyes rounding when he sees me standing there.

He’ll be sorely disappointed when he finds Baine or Timothy at the other exit point.

Green and purple smoke unfurls from the machines in the corners, thickening in the hallway. Gary disappears, his torn apart body swallowed by the smoke and flashing strobe lights. I can hear his grunts and curses.

At one point, I hear a sharp crack, followed by a loud shout from Gary. I’m pretty sure his foot just broke further. I run through the living room and around to the kitchen, coming through a side entrance. Off to the side of the kitchen is a tiny foyer with a staircase and the only other exit. When guests are finished upstairs, they come down that staircase and exit through the door. Standing guard in front of the foyer is Baine—my little grim reaper.

That’s who he’s dressed up as, with his black hooded cloak and skeletal body. He puts Mortis’s body to shame, with the entirety of his rib cage poking through his grey-painted skin. Along with every other bone in his body. He says he doesn’t like to eat, and I don’t push him to correct his eating disorder. His cock is skinny but is the longest out of the bunch so he always gets to fuck my ass.

“Motherfucking, BITCH!”

I slap a hand over my mouth as more cackles release from my mouth.

Gary’s head drops, hopelessness seeming to consume him. His shoulders shudder as a sob wracks his throat. My hand falls and I walk closer, getting a full view of him. Tears stream down his bloodied face, producing pretty pink tears that drip off his face and onto the floor.

“Just fucking kill me,” he sobs. He sways, losing all fight and nearly collapsing to the floor. His body jolts as he cries, and finally, it folds in on itself and he falls to the ground. His sobs deepen, while Baine and I share a look.

How pathetic. Raping and abusing women and when he’s abused in return, it’s one big pity party.

“Are you going to admit to your sins?” I ask, stepping closer and leaning down, putting my face directly into his.

“What sins?” he blubbers, snot leaking into his mouth.

I slap him, my own hand stinging from the impact. “Don’t play stupid! What did you do to, Jennifer?” I interrogate, curling my lip over my teeth.

“I…I had sex with her.”

Apparently, his ears stopped working. I grip my knife and plunge it into his stomach. He gasps, blood mixing into his saliva as he coughs.

“I’ll ask again,” I say serenely. “What did you do to her?”

He sniffles. “I raped her,” he confesses on a pitiful cry. “She was my girlfriend! I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”

My eyes widen as a thick film of red-hot rage contorts my vision.

“Not a big deal?” I whisper, shocked by his words.

He stutters, not managing to get a coherent sentence out when he knows he just fucked up. I’m sure he can see it in my face. The absolute stupidity of what he just uttered.

My spine straightens and a calm smile settles on my face.

His words only justify my judgement. Every time I’m proved right, I’m overcome with peace. Breathing out a sigh, I turn and go find my Mace—a long, skinny wooden bat covered in spikes. Normally, it’s used as a prop. Jackal will carry it in his hand sometimes. What no one knows, is that it’s real. The spikes aren’t plastic, but a sharpened metal.

When I return to Gary, he’s still on the floor throwing his pity party. I know it’s going to get uglier once he lays eyes on what’s in my hand. Like clockwork, his eyes bulge and he starts desperately chanting to me.

“No, no, no, please, no,” he wails, tears streaming down his reddened face. I suppose it’s better than the grey.

He still looks like shit, though.

Baine steps closer, his eyes watching intently as I bring the Mace down on his other foot, ensuring no escape from Gary. He screams, his face turning cherry red. His foot is nearly detached from his leg. Blood leaks out in rivulets from the pulpy mess his ankle now is.

Baine fists his cock, the muscle hard and straining beneath his black robe. I smile, feeling my own desire building in the apex of my thighs.

My henchmen were made for me. Each and every one of them.

Deftly, I unbuckle Gary’s belt and pull down his pants. He wriggles, trying his best to dislodge my hands, but he only succeeds in getting them down quicker.

“What are you doing?!” he shouts, panicked.

His boxers come down next, and I nearly gag from the stench.

“Gary. Do you ever wash your ass?” I ask seriously, my face curled with repulsion. I mean, really, when’s the last time this filthy parasite even showered?

I will never understand what Jennifer sees in him. There’s no way she has rose-colored glasses on with him. She has dark, black sunshades on. It’s the only way she can look at Gary and not see something revolting.

Curses are spit at me, but I ignore them. They’re just empty words. How can they mean anything at all when they’re coming from the mouth of a demon?

“You said what you did to Jennifer wasn’t a big deal,” I reiterate. Thrashing desperately, he doesn’t answer. He knows what’s coming.

Baine does, too. His robe has been pulled aside, and in his tightly curled fist, he pumps his cock.