Satan's Queen

12

But what other choice did she have?

Approaching the door, she paused. She leaned her ear against it but couldn't tell whether any of The Fallen were waiting outside. Quietly, she opened the door—onto an empty hallway. Kaitlyn scoured the shadows but they were free of lurking figures.

She moved fast, barely making a noise. Trying to control her breathing, she turned two corners, both times sending a thrill of fear through her, expecting Satan to be there waiting to catch her, as he'd done so many times before.

The doors leading outside were ahead. Red light poured in through the gap. She squeezed between them and then she was out! She couldn't believe it. The ashy ground sank beneath her feet as she struggled to run. It was sweltering outside and so humid she couldn't sweat. Forced to a fast walk, she scrambled on ahead. The swirling grey sky, the belching volcanos, the screaming voices—it was all so different now. So horrifying. She'd forgotten.

Kaitlyn glanced over her shoulder. Satan's castle loomed over her, a jagged pinnacle of volcanic rock, looking more like something out of a dark fairytale than reality. It made her shiver. She had to get away. Even if it meant into more danger.

She stood at the top of a hill. Below, rivers of oily water snaked and bubbled between fields of roaring fires. Some fires were as big as houses and so hot Kaitlyn could feel their heat radiating from afar. She turned her face with a grimace when one of them roared like a living, breathing monster, soaring high into the sky. Kaitlyn blinked as it dazzled her eyes.

Panting, she looked over her shoulder again. She needed to act quickly. If he found her, there was no way she would ever be able to leave the room again. She would have even less freedom than she did now. I don't need your heart. In fact, I don't need most of your body. Just your torso will do. I could cut off your arms. I could cut off your legs.

She'd been brave once; she could do it again.

Kaitlyn wiped her face. 'I'm sorry, Jacob.' A sob caught in her throat. 'I'm sorry I did this to you.'

She charged down the hill, the ash squishing beneath her feet, turning her ankles and making her stumble. She was so hot it felt like her eyes were burning in her head. The flames were so bright it hurt to see. She shouted. It was too hot.

Raising her arms, she skidded to a stop and stumbled back. The air was searing her throat and she couldn't open her eyes at all. She wasn't even close to the nearest fire and yet it already felt like she was burning.

With a cry, her eyes tightly shut, she tried to lurch forward, only to fall back again. She couldn't catch her breath. Her body quivered as she retreated back up the slope. All her strength had left her, as though her muscles had liquified.

She collapsed into the ash. She was so thirsty it felt like someone was clawing their nails up her throat.

She slammed her fist into the ground. 'Coward!' She lay defeated, sobbing.

Useless. Useless.

There had to be another way. Think, Kaitlyn, think. Then she had it: if she couldn't run into the flames, then what else could she do?

And suddenly it was obvious.

Staggering to her feet, she charged back towards the castle. She didn't care to be quiet as she slipped back through the doors and sped through the halls. Lower demons scattered out of her way but there was no sign of The Fallen—and no sign of Satan.

Soon, she found herself where she needed to be. Across the bridge were the enormous doors leading into the throne room. Kaitlyn swallowed, the guilt of all the terrible things she'd done sitting like a block of ice in the pit of her stomach.