Phantom Pain (trilogy)

Torture

Chapter 9: Torture

The first thing I did was come to a stop directly in front of the captive demon.

The second thing I did was notice how the light from Dez's lantern glinted off of the blade. Somehow being reflected seemed to intensify it, and the sword helped illuminate the room. I ran my finger down the smooth metal. Pressing my finger momentarily to the sharpened side, red blood blossomed almost immediately. Sharp. I examined the way it clung, balanced on the edge. The light refracted through it, making it seem luminescent.

I looked down at the demon. He was no longer smiling.

“What's your name?” I asked.

He stared at me, eyes huge green saucers. If it wasn't for the feeling he exuded, he really would have looked like a frightened child.

“I'm just trying to be polite.” I began to circle him, slowly, the sword tip hovering just a centimeter from the stone. “My name is Ramiel.” I came to a stop. Again, at the front. “And you know what I am.”

All the guilt and doubt had gone, and I was focused on the task at hand. For the first time since I'd found myself buried, I had clarity.

“Now I know a little something about pain.” I began to let it all out. All of the anger, all of the disgust, and the frustration. “And you demons love that.” I took a step forwards. “You love making me relive. Over, and over again. Having my wings ripped from my back!”

I swung the sword with all my strength, and the demon let out a squeak of terror. The blade stopped just short of a fatal blow. A little bit of blood dripped from a hair thin cut on his cheek.

“Now I ask you again, what is your name?” The sword hovered right beside his face.

“Jesus Christ,” the demon spat. “Bow down before your lord and savior.”

Sarcasm: the last defense of the desperate.

My blade slid half a centimeter so that it pressed into his flesh. Lightly, just enough so that blood oozed across the sleek sides. It tingled in my hand, and I pushed the feeling away from me. The demon screamed, a sound of true anguish. I dropped the blade, and he slumped forwards over the leather restraints. I'd barely broken the skin. I held the blade of an archangel. The demon was right to be afraid.

“Shax,” he gasped, looking up at me. “My name is Shax.”

I smiled. I had already won.

“It's very nice to formally meet you, Shax. Now, as you've probably already guessed, there are many things that I want to know. I've been a little out of the loop.” I did a little, back-exposing spin for emphasis. “You mind catching me up?”

“You haven't missed much.” The lip of the little boy pulled up, making him look inhuman. The blood ran in streaks, all the way down his neck. “Only the end of the world. All of the angels are dead, and the demons will drown you all in your own blood!” He screamed the last few words, straining forwards towards me.