-Written by Dollangangergirl
*Amberlynn's POV*
I woke up in a dimly lit cage, shackles bound tightly to my wrists and ankles. In the small space I could barely turn in, but if I tried really hard, I could move my hands a little.
The only source of light was the fire burning brightly in the room as condemned souls shoveled coal into the flickering flames, casting creepy shadows on the dark walls of the inside.
On one side of the wall, a large, equally dark throne was placed, so the man could watch with smug satisfaction as the slaves did as they were told.
He scared me with his black, hateful eyes and his raven black hair, all of his features dark, like his soul obviously was.
I knew he was the devil himself. Call it a gut feeling. He looked so young, about thirty at he oldest, as his eyes turned from the workers to me.
My breath caught in my throat as our eyes met. Did I know him, too? Why is everyone so damn familiar?! I thought to myself.
He slowly approached me, examining me in my cell on the floor. Thankfully, the bars weren't too thick, so I could clearly reach my hand through, if it wasn't restricted, or see what was going on outside.
"What am I doing here?" I sobbed worriedly, no longer afraid to show my pain.
I had left my mother behind, and she hadn't done anything to deserve the reaction I gave. But she never answered any of my questions, most of which were left without the answers I wanted, so I reacted badly.
"Well, you died," the devil dead panned, brutally honest and clearly not caring how I felt. "That car did a pretty good job of smashing you, too. Now we're just waiting on your Mommy."
Rage boiled inside me, causing my blood to burn as it coursed through my veins.
"You will not touch my mother, do you hear me?!" I shrieked sitting up as high as I could in the low ceilinged, steel cage I couldn't break if I had tried. "And how do you know about her anyway?"
Ugh. My curiosity got the better of me. One of the many traits I had inherited from my dear mother that I would give anything to see at that point.
"Well," he started hesitantly, obviously amused at my 'stupidity', as a jerk like him would probably put it. "She is my daughter. How would someone not know about their own child?"
I fought the urge to gasp, defiantly refusing to give him the satisfaction he wanted.
"Oh," I merely mused calmly. "So that makes you-"
"I'm your grandpa," he cut me off, responding before I could even finish.
"Well, grandpa, would you be so kind as to let me go?" I inquired, putting on a smile of fake sweetness and innocence.
When the slaves heard me call him 'grandpa', all of the eyes in the room turned to us, widening in surprise.
'Grandpa' was about to answer when he turned to see the slaves staring.
"What are you doing?" he snapped commandingly. "Get back to work!"
I have to admit, even though I hated him for obviously hiring that guy to hit me so he could blackmail or hurt my mother (yeah, I figured that out on my own), I admired his 'leadership skills'. However, they stared on.
"Ok then," he sighed, seemingly regretful. I knew it was all an act; apparently everyone in our family was good at acting. "I didn't want to have to do this..."
Suddenly, he lunged out at one of the workers and stabbed him with...a garnet blade? Why does he have a knife with my birth stone on it? I silently wondered, not daring to speak at the moment.
The man disappeared, leaving the people next to him speechless and stunned. I will get back to who they were in a moment.
"That is what happens when you disobey me," he explained fearsomely, answering my question before it came.
"This is what really dying looks like. Dying for good, that is. See, you don't come back from that. Your soul can't handle that amount of pain, so it disappears, never to be seen again."
I decided I would never question his authority unless I needed to.
Instead if yelling at him, I changed the subject.
"Where is my father?" I asked angrily through gritted teeth, still setting with anger. Of course, I had guessed he was the one who had kept my Dad down in that literal hell hole. If he wanted to kidnap me to get to my Mom, why wouldn't he want my dad, too?
"I'll give you a hint," he laughed evilly. "He's in this room. But good luck figuring out which one he is out of the thousands of souls in this room; considering you don't even know what Dear Daddy looks like!"
He burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.
I forced myself not to smirk at the fact that he didn't know my mom had shown me the picture. The very reason why I ran away in the first place.
How fun it was, playing with my only parent, learning, having as much fun as we wanted, whenever we wanted. Why didn't I hear her out? Why didn't I listen to the rest of the story? I scolded myself.
I was snapped back to reality when I heard the clicking of 'Grandpa's' heels on the hard flooring of the castle.
Why the hell would a man need to wear heels? Ha ha, hell.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things to do," the devil sighed dreamily, as if going on a date. "You know, places to burn, people to torture."
"You're evil, you know that?" I muttered in a low voice, trying to remove the tight chains from my wrists and cringing at the pain when they dug deeper into my skin. What are these things made of?!
"Yes, but it's a living," he admitted with a grin, slamming the large doors behind him as he swept out.
Talk about a grand exit.
I started to weep uncontrollably, only half aware of what I was doing. What was I going to do now?
I had left the only person who had cared about me, and I had no idea where my dad was. There were thousands of slaves swarming around the room, and I was barely suspended above the ground, three feet at most. I couldn't see anyone; so how was I supposed to find my dad in that? I didn't even know his name.
Suddenly, a young boy's voice startled me out of my worry.
"Are you alright?" he queried, his aquamarine (bright blue) eyes trying to connect with my hazel ones. And when they did, I couldn't break my gaze.
He aged obviously stopped working, because no one was there to watch them, and he was taking advantage of his free time.
The boy had ebony hair, similar to that of my 'grandpa', with pale skin. He looked like he was about my age; the same height, too.
"I'm fantastic," I informed him with sarcastic enthusiasm. "How about you?"
I wanted to be harsh with him, but he was the only one who had shown me any kindness, so I tried my best not to be a jerk. But it was harder than it looks, considering my situation.
"I'm as happy as I can be working in hell," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the floor.
He sounded like me!
"What's your name?" he alder curiously, trying and failing not to sound too intrigued.
"My name is Amberlynn Lauren Dollanganger. Whats yours?" I replied, a small smile playing at my lips as we talked. I always introduced myself with my full name, the way my Mother taught me to.
"My name is Brandon Justin Ankeny, thank you for asking," he responded with an over exaggerated bow.
I giggled before quickly biting softly on my lip to stop myself, heat rising to my cheeks as I realized what was happening. I had never felt this way before, and it was weird.
I cleared my throat nervously before I carried on.
"So what are you here for?" I quizzed without a second thought, a question I really wanted to know the answer to.
"I don't really know," Brandon admitted unsurely, staring me straight in the eye at the same level as me. "They said something about needing me later. I don't know why..."
I was confused as to why he would be down in hell if they needed him later, but I didn't push him further.
"Why are you here?" Brandon asked monotonously, obviously hopeful I wouldn't break down and cry again.
"Obviously, grandpa's wants a family reunion. I hope that means he won't kill me or my Mother, but who knows," I sighed sadly, remembering the loving woman I had left behind on Earth. "I miss her so much."
A single tear dropped from my eye and made a small noise as it hit the floor of the cell.
"I will do anything and everything I can to reunite her with you," he promised solemnly.
I don't know why he made me such a promise, but it made me happy to know someone felt sympathy for me, even if it was a perfect stranger. I had a feeling I would get to know him better as the days went on.
"I just hope she knows I'm here, somehow." I whisper softly, my hair falling in curtains around my face as I inclined my head towards him.
"She will," he assure me, gingerly placing a hand inside of my cage. I took it instantly and sat there with him in peaceful silence, hoping grandpa would never return. He was al I had left.
But, as I continued to talk to Brandon, one unanswered question reined supreme in my mind: Where's my momma?