Ascension Written by:

Danielle Fields

Prologue

Far below the reaches of man, there is a place known as the Underworld; a place where life itself is bitter for eternity, where only the damned can survive in the blistering heat of the fires below- a fury of the realm's one king seems to reign above all else; every fear, every cry, and every feeble attempt for redemption. A place so wretched that even the demons that hold Lucifer's keep wish that they, themselves, could escape his grasp for even a moment.

There's a place for every soul in this realm, every wretched soul most pay the price for the sins they have committed in the life before. Whether it be a petty sin, or not, all must hold their own weight; most of which pray for forgiveness, with out the knowledge that the refuge they seek, is far beyond the reaches of this world. A place that the damned can no longer travel, but in this realm, there is no longer any hope for those that remain. For this is a world without happiness or remorse for the pain inflicted.

Chapter one-Escape the Fates

The smell of brimstone and fire is one of the things she had become accustomed to after her many years of restless torture on the sinful souls from the world above. The crackling flames and agonized cries beat against her sensitive ears repetitively as it was her job to give them what they had earned of a life in treachery. As she cracked the whip upon the bare torsos of both men and women alike, she began to regret coming into this realm at all; after all, she was His favorite Torturess, but even that had become a mistake after the 200 years of her unlife. He had favored her above all the rest of his servants, mainly because she had absolutely no sincere sentiment for those that entered this Underverse. She had beaten every single one of his talented male demons, including his right hand, Lucien Damascus. Lucifer had come to trust her word and her judgment, but that was never her intentions. She merely wanted more, but even that was impossible in this place. Regardless, she held her own, striking the pitiful humanoids repeatedly with the barbed whip that she had grown to use. No matter how much her tortured screamed and begged for the end, she knew that it was not something that could be bargained with; and with that, she tightened her grip on the leather handle of the whip, her knuckles whitened with the force she used to hold it in her hand while she struck. Her lips always curved upwards in a sadistic smile as the flesh of the soul had become torn, leaving oozing, crimson liquid in its wake. The writhing victim had nothing but pain and misery left in this world, and they had all deserved nothing less.

Even so, her mind was elsewhere on this particular day. The walls of the realm were stained with the blood of the wretched, but even so, the fires burned just as bright as always. She exhaled a sigh of relief as she heard the howl of the centaur guarding the Gates, his roar shook the very ground beneath her feet as she made her way to her den. Her hands worked quickly whilst she walked the required route to her place, allowing herself to wrap the whip with a single wire; the blood from the souls she had long yet tortured stained her pale hands an eerie red color. Her den was not like most of the hellmates she had come across. The walls were not bare, nor the room empty save for the usual rock of a bed that most had kept. Instead, the walls were riddled in drawings that the damned had given her; showing her what the life above had looked like, yet she had never left the confines of her circle. The drawings on the walls were not the only differences that made the room. Along the right wall stood a shelf, upon which rested a hand crafted weapon that had found its way into the depths of hell; a two-handed katana, one of a demon slayer that had once traveled into the realm. Its blade had been stained crimson, and chiseled into the metal of the weapon were the writings of many a demon hunter. She had only once touched the weapon, but that was long ago now... Among the other differences, her room was well lit with the light the fires that Xaphan had previously stoked prior to her ending shift. She had always thought that her room, although it was different, was still missing one of the key factors she had been longing for…life.

After reaching her room, she made her way across to the bed and soon found herself seated upon the hardened surface. Her legs outstretched before her, leaning slightly backwards to rest her palms against the bedding; her posture somewhat relaxed and almost as if she were in a daze. Not long after she had seated, she reached down with her left hand, grabbing hold of the metal zipper of her right boot and tugging downwards; her midsection bending forth to give her leverage in the action and giving her the opportunity to reach back around and place her hand against the heel of her boot. Then giving a small tug whilst lifting her right leg, she pulled her boot off and sat it neatly beside the bed and then sought after her other boot. Prior to taking her boots off she fell back against the bed with an audible 'thud', exhaling deeply as her crimson optics stared upwards at the stalagmite-covered ceiling. Her thoughts then wandered to what she would do…would she ever leave this wretched place? Only time would tell. With a sharp inhale she pulled herself upwards and stood, finding the energy to undress herself from the leather confines of her outfit. After which she moved to the hole against the left of the den, picking out a lightweight dress that she had always worn. The dress was relatively short, reaching her mid-thigh and being red in color; the midriff was corseted and fit her snuggly in order to contain her curves perfectly behind the fabrics. Straightening the dress along her pale thighs, she looked towards the drawings along the walls. Her expression growing blank as she just stared, her hands reaching up to her head and pulling her long red hair to the right of her neck, leaving her shoulders and left side of her neck exposed to the heat of the room. Prior to that, she proceeded to cross the heated room to close the door with a dull sound, shaking her head and then making her way to her bed for the last time of the night. Climbing into bed, she sighed; her pointed ears twitching with the sound of the crackling fire stoked just outside her door and her eyes coming to a slow close as she soon found herself drifting off into a fitful slumber.

After what seemed to be only moments of rest, her eyes reopened and stared blankly at the rocky ceiling above. Then slowly tossing her legs over the side of the bed, she exhaled shakily and wiped the beads of sweat from her brow; her frame hunching forward to rest her elbows upon her exposed knees, and then covering her face with her hands as her brows pulled together. For as long as she could remember, the nightmares had been as clear as day… Frightful, forlorn faces with outstretched mouths, often seeming to cry out in agony. To most demons this was a beautiful image, but then she wasn't like the others anymore. Her duty had taken over her life long before she had even begun to live it; she had never wanted it to be this way…and so, she often found herself wishing that she had never been created. Maybe then she would have been spared the lifetime of discrepancy, the lifetime of servitude and then maybe she could smile for the first time and truly mean it.

Her thoughts began to settle shortly after she sat up, shaking her head once and then dropping her hands to hang limply towards the dusty flooring. Then she stood, her brows pulled together in frustration as she slung a souvenir across the room, the glass object shattering against the rock door and crumbling to the floor. The demon's eyes narrowed in anger after mere moments, clenching her fists by her sides and sighing shakily before stomping across the room and pulling out a leather bag. She tossed the bag onto her bed and unzipped it to reveal the empty whereabouts within, then made her way across the room to the set of drawers along the wall. Tugging open the first drawer, she growled and took out her clothing and then slammed it shut with a snarl. After that she went back to the bed, her chest heaving with the anger that had caused her to do this in the first place; shaking her head as she slowed her actions. Her head was racing, the force behind her thoughts made her head pound repeatedly. The demon sighed, holding her head and then dropping her hands to her sides quickly with a saddened expression. After what seemed like hours, she let her fingers curl about the bottom hem of her dress and tugged upwards, slipping it off of her pale frame. Next she flung the dress to fall atop her bed, moving to her chest of drawers and opening it to get ready for another dreadful day in the Underworld. Her hands clutched the soggy knobs on the drawer, tugging it open and pulling out another leather outfit and soon finding herself dressing in a dazed fashion. Her arms moved sluggishly, pulling on the skin-tight clothes and zipping when necessary. It wasn't until she had knelt to buckle her last boot that she released another prolonged sigh of tension, her lids coming to close for only a fraction of a second before she pushed upwards and came to stand upright once more. Then turning, she took the whip that she had used the previous day from the wall and slung it over her shoulder, pulling her hair into a loose bun and then heading out the stone door.

Her feet made soft thuds against the rocky terrain as she made her way to her designated area, enclosing the whips' handle within the soft texture of her hand. She found her optics scanning the passing windows and doors for any face that seemed familiar… So far, only one had been recognized, and she was not yet ready to greet him. Instead, she rolled her eyes and chewed on the inside of her cheek in distaste of what she knew was to come as he approached her at her gate. The male was clad in a pair of black denim jeans and an unbuttoned white dress shirt, his chiseled frame shining with perspiration; her eyes seemed to catch a droplet of sweat slowly roll down the contours of his rippled upper portion. His eyes were like her own, cat-like and colored crimson with the fact that they, like many others, were both demons. Something about him though made it extremely difficult for her to take her eyes off of him; maybe it was the fact that he was the demon of Impurity. One whom, like so many times before, attempted to seduce the loveless Xen… but then, Cres was not doing this out of his undying need for self-gratification… he had known her since she had arrived here, and maybe even before; but then, she would never know that for certain. So she tolerated him as best she could, tearing her gaze from his ever-perfect frame and looking elsewhere. A sound came from deep within the confines of his broad chest, a sound she recognized as his seductive chuckle; one that only made her shake her head, rolling her eyes as she brought her arms to cross beneath the curves of her supple chest. Her fingers wrapped noisily upon the tightened muscles of her arms, glowering at the wall that she had rested her optics upon and then sighing softly before turning her gaze back to him. Her eyes blinked slowly, allowing her eyes to give off the impression that she did not want to be anywhere near him. She already knew that this was not going to work at all; she knew that instead he would take it as an encouragement. Instead, he walked closer to her and invaded the little breathing room left in the narrow hallway to wrap his swollen, muscled arms about her petite figure. Pulling her to him, her kissed the hollow of her ear with a soft audible smack of his lips, leaving a small shiver to run through her spine. He pressed her to his bare chest hard enough that she couldn't escape as easily as she had hope, her hands were trapped between their chests; her warm skin pressing against his scarred, heated pecks. She inhaled sharply, shaking off the feel of his skin beneath her own. For some odd reason, she was beginning to feel light-headed… After taking in her breath, a musky smell hit her senses and left a small quiver of silver to run amongst the crimson in her optics. She moaned inwardly, shaking her head and tilting her head back in an attempt to escape the intoxicating aroma emanating from the demon before her. Her eyes clamped shut, brows furrowing as she breathed heavily while fighting her instincts. This had happened so many times with him, she knew now that it was only his ability… That it would have worked on any other female around, and most likely… he had used it before. She could care less. He meant nothing to her. After all, he was only another demon here and nothing would change that.

Her eyes finally opened far enough to see that his eyes were locked on her face, narrowed with a look of lust. After realizing this, her cheeks darkened with a faint red and she bit her lip and then looked away before speaking to him.

"Can you put me down?" She asked, her voice coming out more like a whisper. She glanced back at him then, only to notice that his lips had curled upwards in a faint smirk as he slowly began to shake his head. Her optics widened, watching him lean closer to her face before his lips parted and his tongue darted out between his plump lips to trail over her own. An instinctive shiver ran through her gut, making her eyes clamp shut and causing her hands to grip his shirt tightly.

"Why do you always deny me~?" He whispered after leaning closer to her, his lips barely separated from her own. Her eyes opened slightly, giving off the slight nervous expression as she looked at his face. Then, letting go of his shirt, she moved her hands to press against his bare torso in an attempt to put space between them.

"Perhaps it is because I do not have any feelings towards you…" She said to him, her voice cold and shaky towards the end. He seemed to notice the quiver in her words, a darker smirk tugging at his lips as he brought his hands to clamp down on her hips and push her against the wall.