Chapter One
The Return of the Crown Princess
"Harder, Prince! Oh, yes, harder! I know you want to!" Xipe Totec surged into the Princess's soft, beautiful body, his desire growing as her hot, tight, wet body clenched around his, taking him deeper inside her.
"Mine, all mine, Raze, yes! You're all mine, now!" His audacity at calling her by not just her given name, but her nickname, and making such demands of her, would have amazed him, but for some reason, he paid it no mind. All he could think about was the feel of her body, the taste of her skin beneath his tongue, the softness of her lips beneath his. He was drowning in the sweetness of their desire.
"I'm coming, Prince. I'm coming!"
"Yes, my Lady, my love! Come for me!"
"Prince! Oh, Prince!"
"By the sweet fires of Hell..." She screamed his true name, throwing her head back, her body as taut as a servicing garrote wire. The burning cold seed of a demon prince filled her as release found them both.
"Razielle!"
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The volume of his orgasmic shout woke him from the strange slumber that he sometimes entered when he was tired and thinking of the Princess. He awoke, his entire body limp and flaccid, soaked in sweat and blood. He sat up in his huge, empty bed, disappointed not to find the crown Princess at his side. He dreamed of her so very often, and missed her, longed for her with every part of his demonic self, but she was always out of his reach. Why had she never called for him? Had she not seen his final message? Had she perhaps been too angry to see it? Would she ever speak to him again, or so much as let him grovel at her feet? Per haps untie her bootlaces with his teeth or lick her shoes? Such menial tasks were beneath him, but if that were going to be all she would allow him, he would jump at the chance and gladly.
"I miss you, my lady. Come back to me. The Throne of Abarat awaits your return, and so do I. Please, please," he whispered, "come back to me."
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Razielle awoke with a shriek of pleasure, which became a moan of pain as she landed on the floor by her bunk bed with a solid thump. Again she'd dreamed of her Prince, the demon that the priests told her didn't exist, never had, and certainly wouldn't be the eternally damned lover of such a "charming, young girl."
Both she and her sister, Lillitha, were considered crazy, called Devil-worshippers by the kids at their mortal high school. She knew she wasn't crazy, though. She had the Dark Mirror of Hekate's Eye, her favorite voodoo doll, and the promise of a demon prince to prove she wasn't insane.
But, as she grew older, she began to wonder if her memories were merely figments of her imagination, and whether she and her sister might not truly be clinically insane. That was why she'd never taken the Prince up on his offer, to call him if she was ever in need. She couldn't have borne it if he wasn't real. Not her Prince.
"The Gates are open, Sister," Lily whispered, staring at the huge mirror that took up one wall of their house. Instead of reflecting the room, in its depths were darkness, and orange flames licking their way up the glass.
"But we haven't graduated yet!"
"It doesn't matter, we get to go home now! Unless someone's in trouble, and we gotta he- what's that?" Raze followed her sister's gaze and shrieked in surprise and delight. It was her Prince! Xipe Totec, Elliot Spencer, the Dark Pontiff of Hell, the High Minister of the Order of the Gash, the Flayed One, the Prince of Pain!
"I think you get to go. I'll catch up, all right? Go on, I know you wanna see him. Beat it, Raze!" She stared at the Princess of Blades for a moment before dashing through the Gate that led to her Prince.
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"Hello, Prince." The woman whispered, smiling at the expression of shock on the Prince of Pain's face. She stepped closer, her stiletto-heeled, black, leather boots clicking on the polished wood floor.
"You," Pinhead whispered in shock. She laughed at his amazement, running a hand languidly, seductively through her thick, mahogany ringlets, her full, dark red lips quirking into a smile.
The demon drank her in with his eyes. She had long, incredibly thick, curly brown hair, and brilliant green eyes shot with golden brown. She was tall, although part of it was the high-heeled, thigh-high, black boots. She wore a ragged, black silk mini skirt and a loose, drapey black shirt with bell sleeves and a ballet neck. Her skin was milk white against the dark material. Her long talons were painted a red so dark it was black, as were her lips. Her eyelids were painted a glittering, electric violet.
"Surprised to see me here?" She gestured with her hands to the chains hanging from the ceiling, the walls splashed with blood and the floors littered with scraps of bloodied flash. They were in some serious Hell.
"Yes," he said.
"Ah, but Prince, where else would I be, but the deepest, darkest Hell, the realm of my most unholy Father?" Brushing her curtain of silken mahogany curls out of her hazel green eyes, she strode forward to stand toe to toe with Pinhead. She was so close, the flats of his pins brushed against her full lips as she spoke to him.
"Did you miss me, Prince? It's been such a long time since we've seen each other, hasn't it?" She put her hands on the tops of his shoulders, gently caressing the glistening black leather that separated their flesh. Pinhead couldn't remember a time when the woman's flesh had burned so hot against him. The hellfire that was her soul burned deep within her, hot and dark.
"Speak, Prince. Say my name, at least, or have you forgotten it? You haven't, have you? It's only been five years."
"Yes," he whispered, "a long time, indeed, Princess." His hands closed over her slender, delicate wrists, but the fishhooks that glinted at his fingertips did not pierce her pale flesh. Unlike the Cenobites, the Princess did not like pain. She was so different from most demons, so much more human. This was the most unearthly, the most... nightmarishly demonic that he'd ever seen her. Yet she was calm, calm as the aftermath of a storm blown straight from the black oceans of Hell.
"Say my name, Prince. Remember me. Remember what it was like with me."
"Razielle." As soon as her name was out of his mouth, she reverted back to the grinning, witty daughter of the Dark Prince, a demon who was almost too human to be devil spawn. She smiled at her cousin Levi's second-in-command, and skipped backwards, waving and calling, "See ya later, Pinhead!"
"Wait!" She obeyed, looking at him over her shoulder. Her siblings would've been shocked. "Where are you going, Princess?"
"Dress shopping, at the Mall on Earth. Wanna come with?"
"I-" But she didn't wait for his answer. She just darted back, grabbed his hand, and willed them both elsewhere.
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"What the fuck is he doing here?" Kirsty Cotton leapt to her feet and stumbled away from Razielle and Pinhead, trying to put some space- and some furniture- between them. "What did you bring him for, huh?"
Raze blinked, so shocked that she didn't notice Pinhead step forward with a soft, chilling smile on his face. The demon princess kept her eyes on her human friend, who looked about ready to piss herself.
"Kirsty, what? What is it? Why are you so upset?" She took a step towards her friend, almost in tears. She liked the Prince. Why didn't Kirsty? It's not like she'd ever been on the receiving end of his not-so-tender ministrations. And yeah, he looked rather... well, he looked like he was dead, but so did Kirsty when she'd just stumbled out of bed at five thirty in the frickin' morning. So why was she so upset?
"Ah, Kirsty. We meet again for, what, the fifth time, now? Four times you've escaped me, but no longer." Raze squeaked and whirled to face the Dark Pontiff of Hell. Oh, damn. Kirsty had opened the Box. She'd solved the Lament Configuration, and escaped the Prince not once, not twice or even thrice, but four times.
How the Hell had she managed to do that?
Oh, well, one issue at a time. The current one being, the Prince wanted to cart off one of her best friends to Hell to torture her for eternity. She knew he would, too, she could see the hungry gleam of anticipation in his obsidian eyes.
"Oh, no, you don't, Prince. Leave Kirsty alone. She's my friend, and she has my Protection. Understand?" The soft clinking of swinging chains made Kirsty start violently in terror, but she kept her gaze riveted on Razielle. The tall, dark-haired Princess stared into Pinhead's emotionless black eyes without blinking, her face regal, not stern and not pleading, but commanding. Her eyes flashed with emerald fire.
Pinhead felt a twinge near the region of his heart as she regarded him with a cool stare. His large, cold, white hand came up to circle her slender throat as he tried to exert his dominance over her. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to watch him.
"This one opened the Box," he said as a voice whispered, whip harsh, inside his mind, "On your knees, beast. Or I shall bring you to them by force."
"She has opened it twice."
"Yet you come after her now, even though she has escaped your grasp four times." In the demon's head, Razielle whispered, "I will not tolerate disobedience, mangy cur. Leave off the girl and get down on your knees."
"No! She must pay for it. Her soul... belongs... to me... now." His voice grew soft and trailed away into nothing as his glittering, obsidian eyes grew wide, twin chasms of hell and despair as Raze's power fell upon him like a ravenous lover.
"We had a deal, you bastard!" Kirsty's voice was shrill and sharp with panic and fright, penetrating, but the spell was not broken. Pinhead opened his mouth to speak, to silence the human woman, but Raze's hand flew up to cover his pale lips, a gentle command that he would keep silent for now.
"We had a deal, we did, we-" Kirsty began sobbing with fear.
"Kirsty, that is enough. You have my Protection, and thus you bear my Mark. No denizen of Hell may harm you. That includes you, Prince! Leave Kirsty Cotton alone. You don't need her soul." Pinhead frowned, his grip on Razielle's throat spasming as replied, "But, Princess, she opened the Box, opened the Gates of Hell. Her soul should be mine! It belongs to-"
"It belongs to her. You don't need it. Besides, what d'you want it for, anyway? It's probably all pure and innocent and some junk, and besides, you've got my soul. Er... yeah, my soul... thing... and the souls of the Damned. You don't need her soul. And so, good Capulet, be satisfied. Please? We got dresses to try on and junk." In his head, the Princess hissed, "And I want you on your knees at my mercy at the earliest convenience, Prince. You need to learn obedience."
"The eldest daughter of the High Lord of Hell reads Shakespeare?" Tiffany asked, blinking rapidly. She hadn't moved once Kirsty started freaking out.
"Indeed," Pinhead muttered, and his hand came away from the girl's neck.
"Yep. I like black cherry ice cream, too, as the Prince well knows."
"I am yours to command, Princess. You mentioned dresses."
"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot."
"Wait. You brought him along to help you pick out a dress? That is so disturbing, just to let you know." Kirsty looked a bit grayish.
"Well, he's my escort for the Welcome Back to Hades Dance, so I'm gonna pick out a dress I can wear to both that and Tiff's prom that matches...well... that." Raze indicated Pinhead's long robe of black leather.
"Welcome back to Hades dance?" Kirsty asked, looking at Pinhead. The demon said calmly, "The Crown Princess and the Princess of Blades have been gone from the Realms of the Damned for five years. A grand ball such as the one being planned is appropriate to welcome them back to Hell once again."
"I hate balls," Raze muttered, rifling through dresses on a rack.
"Don't tell falsehoods, Princess," Pinhead replied carelessly, walking over to stand by her side.
"No one says 'falsehoods' anymore, Prince. Your aeons are showing." He chuckled at her wry expression while his flinty, soulless eyes scanned the gowns of frothy, pastel colors and the atrocious, eye-watering gowns of neon greens and pinks and blues. Black would serve the Princess, or red, maybe a dark, rich green or a deep, shimmering sapphire, but certainly none of these. Some of them were white, which would become her, but she surely wouldn't pick those. White wasn't exactly a proper color to wear to any type of social gathering in Hell.
But some of those dresses there... ah. He picked one off the rack and held it out to her, saying, "Here. Try on this." The dress was a deep scarlet-colored satin, the color like that of freshly spilt arterial blood, with long, trumpet sleeves, an empire waist, and a square neckline.
Raze blinked and gulped, whispering, "Ooh, pretty. But... maybe a little to sexy?" It was the Prince's turn to blink. Was there such a thing? Temptation brought souls into Hell. How could there be too much of that?
"It's fine, here, let me see." Kirsty took the dress and held it up to Raze's body, admiring it. Raze was a woman who only looked good in certain colors, and pastels just wouldn't bloody do it anymore, now that she wasn't a kid anymore. But something like this, this dark red gown, would be perfect for a ball. For the prom... she wasn't sure. It wasn't too sexy- yeah, right- just a little too formal.
After staring at it against Raze's body for several minutes, Kirsty looked at Tiffany, and they both shook their heads. Tiffany said, "Too pretty. You're trying to pass for a normal teen, remember? No shallow, slutty teenager would wear something that tasteful, or that nice."
"But I wanna look nice."
"And therein lies a problem. Most prom dresses don't look that good, in my opinion. Especially not for you. Most prom dresses are halters, no sleeves, poofy skirts, too short skirts, plunging necklines, pastels, white, pink, yellow, not royal, marine, or navy blue, and/or not in your size, which means you don't want anything to do with them. Oh, and why don't you wear blue again?"
"Blue means divine, holy, in some cultures. It would be sacrilegious. Same thing with wearing white. The only time we're allowed to wear white is when we visit Heaven, are trying to trick people, or- Daddy does this- when our feet are dripping with boiling tar. It shows how 'unclean' we are, whereas the white by itself doesn't. It's just a rule, one of those unbreakables. Just like, the Prince can't come to Earth unless someone other than a full-blooded demon opens the Gates of Hell."
"Oh. I didn't know that. Gee, learn something new every day around you, huh?"
"I'm a fountain of pertinent information, Kirsty."
"Obviously-"
"Ladies, we are on a time limit. I believe you have a... final... to study for, Princess, correct?"
"Bite me, Prince. Ooh, what d'ya got there?" He handed her one of nine dresses, a slinky little hunter green number that made her eyes look gorgeous. She held it against herself, then glanced at the other dresses. Three black, two red, one more green, one a shimmering silver, and one a deep, royal blue. She wanted 'em all. Good thing she was the daughter of the devil, and thus very rich.
"Well?" Kirsty asked. Raze locked eyes with Kirsty and said, "Buy 'em."
"Wait, aren't we missing somebody?" Tiffany murmured. Razielle blinked and asked, "Where are you? Tiff, why can't I see you?"
"I'm wrestling with your sister! Help me!" Some colorful, foreign curses flew through the air. "Get out there, Lillitha Morae laDiabla."
"Don't call me by my full name, Tiffany!"
"Lil, get the fuck out here!" Raze yelled. "You need to buy a dress for the Prom! Cross dressing is against the rules, remember?"
"I don't give a flying rat's ass!" Lily yelled from her place behind three racks of dresses. "I'm not wearing a goddamned dress! D'you hear me, Raze?"
"Prince," Raze murmured, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The demon Prince immediately placed his hand on the back of her neck, halting the knot of muscle that was starting to build by rubbing the tense muscles. "Prince, could you be a darling and get her to come out?"
"At once, Princess." He inclined his head, about as much deference as he showed anyone in public, and strode off in the direction of Tiffany and Lily. The blond mortal scuttled out from the spot as Pinhead turned the corner and vanished from Razielle's sight. A few bangs ensued, followed by a shriek and a booming voice crying, "YOU WILL DO THIS FOR THE PRINCESS!" Then came such a thick, choking silence that Kirsty and Tiffany began to sweat.
Lily, her black hair hanging in a vulpine ponytail, her dark eyes flashing, daring anyone to comment, marched out in front of the leader of the Cenobites, fists clenched. She stopped in front of her sister and said, "You know my size and my preference. Pick one and let's just get the hell out of this niche of Purgatory!"
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"Time to go, Lil! Come on, it won't be so bad! We got nifty dresses and everything," Raze murmured cajolingly. Her sister glared at her.
"Nothing you can say will get me to move."
"You look like you're dead and walking, ready to ravage the earth." Lily perked up and slipped off her bunk bed, murmuring, "Okay, I lied, I'm ready, let's go."
The two girls met Kirsty and Tiffany, who felt rather honored that three Seniors- two high school, one college- would ask a lowly Freshman to the Prom with them. The four of them began to walk, oblivious to the many eyes, demonic and monstrous, angelic and hateful, that watched them go.
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The four high school boys were laughing and joking, oblivious to the being that stalked them. It had no hands, only strange, rotting pinchers like a decaying crab, and rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. Vaguely humanoid in shape, it was tall enough to brush the tops of doorways when it entered, uninvited, into homes to slaughter humans.
Its masters walked behind it, their eyes locked on the boys as the creature leapt at them and brought all four of them down in fountains of gushing crimson blood and agonized screams.
"The Princesses won't be happy to lose their dates."
"The spawn of Satan are a disgrace to the Dark Forces everywhere. They, along with those who are theirs, must suffer and die. We care not what makes them unhappy. They all must die."
"Even the Champions of the Dark?"
"Especially the Champions. The Champion of the Crown of Suffering is in love with the Princess of Eternal Night. Such is not allowed, yet he flaunts his pitiful love shamelessly, and is not brought to heel by his masters."
"The Lord of the Labyrinth and His Lady must also suffer and die."
"Must We destroy them all?" Asked one of the Masters, then realized what It had said. Such words were blasphemy, punishable by death. As one, the Others turned to the lone Master and snuffed It out of existence.
"They cannot be allowed to stop Us. We will one day rule the Realms. One day soon, in fact."
"Death to the Princesses," said the first one.
"Death to the Princesses," chorused the others. The Leader hissed and said, "Death to the God of Hell, and the God of Heaven. Death to Their Princesses, and the Princesses' Champions. Death to their Peoples. Death to all who stand in the way of the Sinn. Death to Life everywhere."
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