Chapter 4: Satanic Palace Visit
Peter gazed out over the fiery landscape of the hell dimension from the balcony of Satana's obsidian palace. The distant screams of the damned echoed up from the pits of torment far below.
"Quite a view, isn't it?" said a deep, sinister voice behind him.
Peter turned to see a towering demon with blood-red skin and sharp black horns regarding him with a devilish grin. This had to be Mephisto, Satana's uncle. Peter tensed, ready for a fight.
"Now, now, no need for that," Mephisto chuckled, raising his clawed hands in mock surrender. "I'm not here to battle my niece's new husband. I'm here to...get to know you better."
Peter remained wary, but relaxed his stance slightly. "Well, in that case, welcome. Satana's told me a lot about you."
"All bad I hope," Mephisto laughed. Just then, Satana emerged onto the balcony in a gown of spider silk and blood rubies.
"Uncle!" she exclaimed, embracing the demon lord. "So good of you to visit us."
Mephisto smiled, though his eyes remained cold and calculating. "I wouldn't miss a chance to meet your new beloved."
Satana linked her arm through Peter's. "Come, let's feast."
She led them to a grand obsidian table laden with exotic demonic delicacies and bubbling hellish wines. As they ate and drank, Mephisto regaled them with stories of his exploits tempting mortal souls. Peter remained quiet, studying the demon. This felt unreal. He remembered Mephisto, but couldn't place where he'd seen him. Forgetting the archfiend seemed impossible, but somehow Peter had managed it. But he knew Mephisto. The memory loss nagged at him.
Satana laughed at her uncle's tales, at ease in her domain. Yet Peter noticed her hand resting protectively on his arm.
Peter picked at the strange foods, struggling to hide his discomfort. He focused on Satana's touch, drawing strength from her presence. This was his home now, these demons his new family. He would adapt and survive, for her.
After the lavish dinner, Mephisto leaned back in his chair, steepling his clawed fingers as he gazed intensely at Peter and Satana.
"Tell me, niece, how fares your new union? Does your mortal truly accept his place here?" Mephisto asked, his tone casual yet probing.
Satana's grip on Peter's arm tightened ever so slightly. "He does. Each day, Peter proves himself more devoted and capable."
Peter met Mephisto's stare unflinchingly. "I live to serve my wife and queen."
Mephisto chuckled. "Bold words. And what of your old life on Earth? Do you not miss the light of your mortal realm?"
"My life began when I met Satana," Peter said. "The past is just shadows."
"Convenient, as you cannot remember it," Mephisto noted, eyes glinting.
Satana waved a dismissive hand. "This is his home now. Peter knows where his loyalty lies." She turned to him, gaze softening. "He is ever my brave champion."
That felt good, but Mephisto's presence was still unsettling.
Peter hesitated. Since arriving, disjointed scenes and faces had plagued him. Like faded photographs just out of reach. Tonight, a name hovered at the edge of his mind.
"There was...a woman," he said slowly. "Before all this, I think. Her hair like fire, her spirit irrepressible." He shook his head in frustration. "Only glimpses, no more."
Mephisto's eyes glinted knowingly at Satana. "Ah, the labyrinths of memory. Winding paths so easily lost."
Satana waved a dismissive hand. "Some childhood sweetheart, I'm sure. You cannot be expected to remember every past dalliance, my heart."
"No, she was...more." Peter's jaw tightened with effort. "We had something. I know it."
Satana rose in a silken rush, moving behind Peter to massage his temples. "You think too much on what is gone. The past matters not here." Her breath was hot against his ear. "I am your present. I am your future. There is only me."
The tension melted from Peter's frame at her touch. She was right - this was his life now. Still, the name lingered. Mary...no, May...
With a growl of frustration, he surrendered the quest. Some doors in his mind remained closed, and he found he no longer cared to open them.
Satana was all that mattered.
Satana's lips curled in a satisfied smile as Peter relaxed into her embrace. Her spell was holding.
Mephisto inclined his head, regarding the couple with amusement. "How fickle is mortal love. A different face, a different bed, and so easily forgotten."
Peter tensed again at the demon's words. There had been real love once, he was certain. This nagging emptiness in his chest demanded it.
Satana shot her uncle a warning look even as her hands worked their magic, kneading the frustration from Peter's shoulders.
"Come, let us speak no more of old flames best forgotten," she purred. "We have much to celebrate here in our present."
With a wave of her hand, she summoned a pair of jewel-encrusted chalices brimming with blood-red wine to the table. Lifting one delicately, she handed it to Peter and raised the other in toast.
"To us, my love. No other mattered then, none shall come between us now."
Peter accepted the chalice, mesmerized by the promise in her hypnotic eyes. As he drank deeply, the hazy fragments of his past faded once more into obscurity.
Satana's smile deepened. The web was spun; the fly ensnared. This one would not escape her.
Mephisto's eyes glinted knowingly as he watched the exchange. There was power here, he could feel it. Power enough perhaps to shake the very foundations of the hells.
"It warms my heart to see you so content, niece," he purred, though his tone held no real warmth. "And your realm seems safely in hand...for the moment."
Satana's gaze sharpened, all pretense of the seducer gone in an instant.
"What do you mean, uncle?" she asked coolly.
Mephisto swirled the blood-red liquid in his chalice lazily. "Word spreads quickly of your nuptials. You have elevated a mortal to stand beside you as consort. There are those who...question...the wisdom of such a match."
Peter stiffened, ready to rise, but Satana's hand on his arm stilled him. Her eyes blazed, but her voice remained steady.
"Let them question. None shall threaten what is mine."
Mephisto chuckled. "As fiery as ever. But you would be wise not to discount the envious and ambitious among our kind. If you will not be turned from this course, you may need...powerful friends."
His eyes slid pointedly to Peter. Satana's grip on her chalice tightened until her knuckles shone white.
"We have all the power we need."
Mephisto spread his hands wide, still smiling. "Of course, of course. But should you need counsel, or aid...I am here. Family must stand together, must we not?"
Satana inclined her head slightly. "Your offer is most generous. But Peter and I shall secure our realm alone." She turned and gazed deeply into Peter's eyes. "He is mightier than any can guess."
Peter met her intense gaze and smiled.
The demon studied them a moment, then smiled.
"I'm sure you are right, niece. You and your husband are a formidable pair." His face darkened. "Still, should you need aid securing your borders, you have but to ask."
Satana lifted her chin. "We are equal to any challenge, Uncle. But I thank you for the offer."
She stood, and Peter followed suit. "Come, my love. Let us retire and leave Uncle to his devices."
Arm in arm, they left Mephisto staring pensively into the fire, still plotting.
Satana led Peter down the winding corridors of her palace, the halls shifting and morphing around them. After the oppressive presence of Mephisto, Peter felt himself relaxing in her company.
"You were quiet during our feast," Satana remarked. "Does my uncle's presence disturb you?"
Peter considered his words carefully. "His manner unsettles me somewhat. But he is your relative and so welcome."
Satana stopped, turning to face him. She traced a sharp nail down his cheek. "Ever the diplomat. But honesty between us, my love. Mephisto meddles too often in affairs not his own. Were it not for his relation to me, I would not permit his presence." Her eyes flashed. "Nor tolerate his veiled threats against us."
Peter covered her hand with his own. "Then we agree. But let's not talk of him."
Satana looped her arm through Peter's as they continued on. "Do not let his intrigues concern you, my love. You are mine, always."
The last traces of tension left Peter's frame. Satana's possessive words washed over and anchored him.
"And you are mine," he replied.
Satana's answering smile was radiant. Together, they passed through the living stone archway leading to her chambers, leaving Mephisto's schemes behind. Wherever Satana led, Peter would follow without hesitation.
