Prologue
Ash. Sulphur. A burnt, brittle taste in the mouth, lingering in her throat and filling her nostrils, heat rising and beginning to choke, the pain searing in her eyes. She blinks, tears fall. She feels the hot, putrid air whirling around her, causing her hair to fall into her face and drowning out the horrid images and shadows in front of her, if only briefly. The cackling of the dark figures, their growling and muttering in Hellspeak becoming louder as they approach her. The burning of her skin is unimaginable now, she cries out in agony before she can control it – the figures screech in delight and veer towards her with a renewed energy and enthusiasm. As she tries to turn and run, she feels the claws push deep into her back and shoulders, others tearing at her legs impeding her movement. With a loud scream, she begins to fall towards the arid, hot ground.
'Angela….'
She tries to scream, but no sound comes out. All she can feel is the agonising sting of the demon's touch against her skin, dissolving her clothing and throbbing, gnawing, creeping into her veins, her bones. She had experienced nothing like it.
'Angela…'
Suddenly the pain ceased. She felt slimy, cold hands pull her up from the ground and spin her around. She closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up, to get out, to do anything but be here. She could feel breath against her face, and she knew what was coming.
'Angela…be a doll and open those big beautiful eyes of yours.' The voice sneered.
She felt tears fall. Seeking to delay the inevitable, she kept her eyes closed until she felt a sharp sting against her cheek; he had slapped her. Hard.
'Come on now dearie; I don't have all night.'
She clutched at her cheek, and slowly turned to face her assailant. Though frightened, she felt angry, and was determined not to appear as a weak, pathetic creature regardless of her dire situation. She forced herself to look Lucifer straight in the eye. His wide grin and manic eyes sent chills straight through her heart – she merely blinked.
'That's better.' He began to rub his hands together. 'Oh Angie, Angie… how long has it been?'
She stood silent, willing tears not to fall from her eyes.
'Hmm…I suppose you have good reason to be upset with me, don't you Angie.' He suddenly clapped his hands together, the noise startling her. 'Now! While my little boy… the little rapscallion…wasn't so successful in trying to cross over to your lovely home,' he wheezed, and he began to pace around her in a circle, his blackened feet leaving greasy traces of tar in his wake. '…he did give me an idea….an idea I think you'll be interested in.'
Angela continued to watch him as he paced around her, aware of the demon figures surrounding her and their attention also fixated towards him, their leader.
'You are a very useful friend, Angie. Very useful indeed. And I can give you what you want in return.'
She was puzzled by this. Her thoughts immediately went to Isabel, but she knew she was no longer here; she was safe, she was home. 'What do you mean?' she attempted to keep the tremors out of her voice, but she was barely audible. Lucifer grinned.
'Oh…' he began to clap his hands together again, slightly at first but then louder and with more excitement. The demon figures around him jeered. 'You don't want me to get my hands on Johnny boy now, do you?'
She frowned.
'Ah…of course, you don't.' he rasped slowly. 'He saved you. And you owe him a big, big, big!' he began to shout. 'favour, don't you Angie girl?'
Angela met his gaze, her eyes widened in terror. She felt like challenging him, but her voice carried no authority and any emotion she conveyed was bound to only encourage his taunts. She kept her mouth shut, and managed a glare of resistance.
'Yes. Good little Catholic girls like you … you know… a debt, a kindness, should be repaid.' He mocked, as he ceased pacing but looked at her from the side with a mixture of pure glee and madness combined.
'You're the only way he can be saved, Angie… so you better listen to what ol' Lu tells you to do.' He almost whispered, making his words even more terrifying. Without warning, he clicked his fingers and all of the demon spectators lunged towards her, teeth bared and their fingers outstretched, ready to taste her flesh.
She awoke with a petrified gasp and her arms flailing; a bedside lamp clattered to the floor, its bulb shattering into pieces. Duck meowed angrily, previously content in the throes of sleep, as he scurried out of the bedroom. Her breathing haggard, she felt the beads of sweat form around her forehead and chest as she tried to calm herself down. Her skin was burning, she felt as if steam rose from her body and yet as fast as she saw it, the steam disappeared. Did she imagine it? 'But that was no dream…' she thought to herself worriedly, her mind racing as she attempted to recall how many days it had been since she'd last been able to sleep anything longer than four hours.
4.38am. Her alarm clock blinked and brightened in the same moment, Angela's eyes narrowing in response. She sighed. No point trying to get back to sleep. Throwing the duvet out of the way, she carefully avoided the broken lamp as she made her way into the kitchen. In the corner of the room, a small circular chime counted thrice.
