Unholy Love

Chapter Thirty-One

I find myself walking through the same path in the middle of the forest that leads to the cottage. My fury now mostly diminished, but revenge is cursing through my veins. Perhaps, confronting the assassin of my father and un-want child at this very moment doesn't seem wise, but what else can I do to take my mind off Lucifer? This will be good for me, I just know it.

As soon as I walk through the doors of the cottage the engulfing smell of spicy erotic cinnamon fills my senses. Strangely, it makes the space feel like home, like I am no intruder to this place. But there is an impostor here. Nina. And if I remember correctly the entry to his intensely intricate torture room is right under the carpet.

I slide out of my jacket, throwing it carelessly onto the sofa before kneeling down to lift the corner of the carpet on the creaky old floors. As expected, the door is right here.

Once I open it and I am met with the same concrete stairs as before my phone begins to ring. Without even looking at who the caller is, I know that it's Lucifer. I reach my hand to the back pocket of my jeans, declining the phone call and turning my phone on silent.

Shoving the phone back into my jeans, I begin stepping down the cold slippery steps to the torture room. It feels too quiet walking down this murky hall. It is a forbidden den, one that belongs to the Devil. It might as well be an area of Hell where humans have access to. Except the only human that knows about this is me.

Once I reach the glass window, I don't dare take a peek inside, not until I open the door and even now my eyes refuse to go up and look her in the face. I isn't scared. She has already done the worst she can possibly do. But I am in a way intimidated. After all she is a demon, and one that is probably stronger than me.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, I finally allow my eyes to look up at Nina. Her body almost lifeless. I am surprised that seeing her chained to a chair with multiple half healed wounds all over her body, doesn't bring me any distress.

I walk even closer to her, noticing that there are small steel looking knives slicing in the middle of her hands and feet in crucifixion, holding them in place. I gulp loudly at the sight of it, black paint, freshly oozed out of those abrasions. Though, not even the metallic smell of the room is bothering me anymore.

I don't say a word to her, but simply wait for her to sluggishly lift her head up to look back at me, the veins in her eyes popped, turning her eyes into a cocktail of strawberries and liquorice.

"You back for more?" she asks with a throaty voice.

Instinctively I let out a snort. Does she really still have the ability to be such a bitch, in her current state?

"I'm here to ask you something, I don't expect you to tell me everything, after all you are a murderous demon who lies and deceives, but you have to be honest in what you do chose to tell me."

She tries to chuckle but winces in pain as blood oozes out of her mouth, sopping down the sides. She looks like a helpless child, and no matter how hard I look, I can't find any empathy within me for her.

"What's in it for me?" she asks, spitting onto the floor directly in the direction of my feet.

I take a step back, crossing my arms in front of my chest, never breaking any eye contact with her.

"I'll persuade Lucifer to let you go, on the additional condition that you never come near us again, torture whoever you want, just not us," I deal with her.

I know I have to reason with her to coax her to tell me what I want to know, but I am not naïve to know that Lucifer will never allow this sort of barging to see the daylight. A little white lie won't harm me if it will get me where I want to be.