Unearthing Hell: Book 2

Part 1: Chapter 11

sorry for the wait

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"Oh my God," I whispered as I looked on with wide eyes. He was still in his mask; but instead of cockily laying against the wall with a smirk he was on the floor, wrestling a fucking hellhound. "Are you kidding me, Samael?"

'You said that too loud,' I thought to myself as I watched the rabid animal turn towards me with its teeth bared.

"Dumb bitch. I sealed the door for a fucking reason," Samael growled as he clamped onto the thing's mussel and pushed it away, throwing it back far enough for me to just barely be able to see it, crashing down to the floor on his back.

All the dog did, though, was snort and stand back up, turning to me with a smirk. "Well, well, well. Look who's here," the thing hissed with a weird grin as it slowly looked away from Samael. I looked at it with absolute puzzlement. The earlier hellhounds I'd been attacked by looked like they were made up of a pile of molten rocks and fire, but this one didn't.

This one looked scarier.

I mean, they're both pretty terrifying, since they all are more than half my size and crazy as Hell.

Literally.

It had an unusual blue toned fur, that seemed a little greasy from the blood smeared all over it – which I'm guessing were past enemies. There were weird, bone-like spikes going down his back, on his vertebrae, that curved at the tips like a shark fin. The heels of his paws had little dagger-like pieces of bone sticking out as well. They weren't too big, but I knew better than to underestimate their lethality. His rib cage also came out through his fur, curving around like the fangs he was showing off in his mouth.

"What do you want?" I asked it after I took a minute to take him in. The dog flashed a nasty smile, some gray foam dripping out his mouth more and more as his smile widened.

"Why would you think I-"

"Come on. Spit it out, bitch," I said in monotone, raising an eyebrow. "Demons like you always want something," I added, watching in contempt as its sickening grin morphed to an irate growl.

"You should learn to treat people with more respect," it snapped as it started to take predatory steps towards me. I watched Samael immediately take a couple steps towards it from the corner of my eye, which made my hand closest to him twitch in apprehension.

'Samael, please, stand down,' I mind-linked to him, making his lips purse as he slowed to a stop.

'You better hope you know what you're doing,' he stated bluntly, his words echoing in my head as the shit-smelling dog stalked towards me. 'That's not any dog. He's one of the princes.'

I held back a gulp as I tilted my chin up, looking him dead-on. "You know," I said as I started walking towards him, eyes never leaving the hellhound. "A little birdie told me that hell hounds can shift to look fairly human." 

"Why are you trying to make conversation with me, whore?" it snarled, baring its fanged teeth at me. I shrugged innocently and smirked, mentally preparing myself for the attack that would come not even a second after I reply. 

Now, I'm not stupid. I'm not going to respond with an insult to make myself look cool, and then cautiously wait for his attack. I'm purposely going to respond with an insult. Because, if I've learned anything from all those years of boxing, or every day fist-fights with my brother, it's that if you want to gain an advantage, you have to make them angry. 

Because them being angry means they'll most-likey throw strikes into the air with no thought or strategy. 

Which means I'll have an almost 100 percent chance of success.