The Hell Priest's Flesh.

Chapter three.

The motel was damp, musty and vacant. It was a decrepted small place with a brash manager and two other guests in a one night stand. Why Roxanne got the room next to theirs was beyond her as she could hear them through thin walls. She turned on the television, managing to tune into one channel as a game show rattled on through the static. She turned it up to drown out the couple next door.

It stared at her from her night stand, almost accusingly as it glimmered in the yellow lamp light. The box knew, yet kept quiet about her crimes in Hell. But was it even a crime to save her niece's soul?

"Not if she's dead."

Roxanne muttered out. Even as a revanent herself, she had made a promise to release her soul.

A piece of her cheek fell off into the sick as she gazed at her reflection within the bathroom's mirror. It had been weeks since she last feasted on human flesh, and the hunger was turning to hot searing needles through her stomach. She knew that her body would shut down soon. Roxanne had to kill.

The couple next door began to scream.

Like the monster she was, Roxanne tore at their flesh while they were still breathing, dominating them both in her unholy feast as her strength over powered them. But it was only temporary, and soon she would stagger back to her room full of flesh and covered in their blood. Once again the mirror revealed her reflection, but this time her worn face was tightening itself, her skin healing beneath the caked blood.

A bath was drawn, Roxanne climbed into the tub and sunk herself below the hot water. Her lungs didn't work, but she could feel pressure against her chest as her eyes shot open to see a figure holding her down. She released a silent scream.

But what pulled her up by the shoulders was none other than her niece herself. Was she dreaming?

"What are you doing here-"

Roxanne gasped out, before a gloved hand covered her mouth. Suddenly, Commander shoved her aunt back beneath the water as her back was arched over with its leather gleaming in the fluorescent lighting. Heels clicked against tile as one of the wire twins walked in, hissing softly to the young officer as she turned her head towards her.

"I got this, just a casualty in the crossfire."

The twin stepped closer, before kneeling down as she placed a hand on her back. "Go home...."

A rasped voice came, and went. Commander shook her head, before suddenly her back arched and she grimaced in pain. Something wrong, terribly wrong. The twin finally had enough as she grabbed the younger cenobite and forced her out of the bathroom, leaving Roxanne to be below murky, bloody water.

How cruelly ironic for Pinhead to release the hounds and have her own niece riding within the pack. But her intentions were just as monstrous to him as well.

So much for recuperating from a long day. Before the manager could awaken from his nightly drunken stupor, Roxanne grabbed what little she carried and took her victims' beaten cadillac. As she drove through the night, the box upon its perch on the dashboard glared at her accusingly.