Chapter 7

my hand in his. I shifted to pull Chapter 7

              I followed my Mr. Tyter down a long hallway. The mahogany walls were lined with large paintings of men with six wings and red men win horned glaring at each other. I held my gaze with the man in the middle of all the chaos on man had light blonde hair-almost golden--but the other man had dark brown hair. He had sharp features. His dark brown eyes flowed with emotion. It was almost like he was staring exactly at you. But that not what caught my attention the man looked so familiar like I had seen him before. Shook the thought from my head and turned back to look at Mr. Tyter.

               Who wore a frown on his face. I straightened my back, 'I'm doing this for Melinda because I promised.' I told myself. It was honestly the only thing to stop me from turning around and not going. Mr. Tyter turned the corner and stopped at a tall, dark door. He cleared his throat, and the guard I hadn't noticed before stood up right. Mr. Tyter glared at him and thee guard silently opened the door.

                  Just as Mr. Tyter opened stepped his foot through the door a loud orchestra of trumpets echoed through the room. I wrinkled my noes hoping my ears would close up and I no longer had to hear the disgusting sound.

                     "Presenting Princess Charity and Deomos Brand." someone announced.

                    My suddenly haulted. What? Princess? Did I just hear that right? This has to be a joke, my father could not be the King of Hell as in the devil?! I closed my eyes the tears ready to spell. Why hadn't I just listen to Wren and stayed home--with Phil and Rita.

                        They really did love me and now I'm trapped in Hell probably for the rest of my life.

                       "What is wrong?" I opened my eyes to see Mr. Tyter frowning at me. I shook my head.

                   "Nothing." I muttered and placed my hand back in the bend of his elbow. 'Do this for Melinda' I told myself. If I did this then I'd be quickly out of Hell--maybe.

                      Mr. Tyter gave me a tight smile and continued to descend down the large marble stairs. I kept my eyes averted on the stairs in front me; willing myself not to fall crack open my skull, shamefully, on the steps.

                     I tightened my grip on Mr. Tyter's arm and glanced. Nervously at him. My gaze quickly darted to the large crowd, feeling as though I was a rabbit in the middle of the wolf pack. Half of the women looked as though they were going to tear me to shreds and eat me. The men...were men...

                        Gasps and hungry eyes followed us as we made our way up and black and red aligned throne. Only then did I notice the detailed artwork in the "ballroom" gold pillar reached up to sky scrapers length. Pictures of torment and a three headed black dog covered most of the of-white walls.

                             Despite the current fact that I am in Hell, I must say their designs are nice.

                       The murmuring grew louder as Mr. Tyter bowed. "Master." He greeted the man, but didn't look into his eyes. My heart jutted out of my chest and I turned my face to met a pair of amethyst eyes trained on me. His face was expressionless, showing nothing I could immediately pick out.

                             Mr. Tyter slowly moved from beside me to behind me. The man on top of the throne, placed both his hands on the arm rest. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes slowly, sizing me up. I cringed, this guy couldn't be my father he was so cold hearted and emotionless.

                          A look of satisfaction grazed his face as he continued to stare down at me. 'Oh Lord, help me' I thought.

                        "Welcome to Hades, my beautiful,we've been waiting for you." His voice flowed with such a velvety smooth tone I shivered inwardly.

                         "Take your seat where you belong." He said.

                         "I would but I don't see my Phil Smalls' couch anywhere." I replied snidfully.

                      The devil snickered. "I like you, dear." He patted the seat beside him and smiled, "Come sit down."

                       Mr. Tyter guided me over the chair and pushed me into a sitting position. I frowned and looked up at him. "Have a wonderful night, Princess Charity." He smiled and walked away. I watches as he walked over to a woman and took her hand.

                     "May I say you have turned out beautiful." The man besides me interrupted my thoughts. The devil reached over and lifted my hand in his. I shifted to pull back my hand, but he held it tighter. "And not a single scratch on your body." He smiled triumphantly. "I've tried my very best to prevent anyone from hurting you."

                          "What are you talking about?" I snapped, and pulled my hand away from him. I rubbed my throbbing, hot hand. Jesus! Was that his temperature, or was it just the fact that I was in Hell?

                            "I made a promise to your mother, that I wouldn't let anyone harm you. Now, I maybe many things but I'm not a pinky breaker." He stuck out his long pinky and wiggled it in the air.

                           "Why'd you take me away from my family?" I demanded. I'm not the type to bet around the bush; I wanted answers--and now. The more I rush through, the faster I get the hell out of here.

                       His shoulders shook up and down, and rusty laugh crawled out of his mouth. He shook his head, and put his hand over his where his heart would be--if he had one. "Take you away? You ran away from your 'family' and got onto a random mans' motorcycle. I didn't take you a lot of persuasion, your mind was already clouded, all I needed to do was grab a hold of it." He turned away from me and shrugged. "Besides, you belong to me. I just came to claim what was mine."

                        "So why'd you leave me with Phil and Rita? You could've taken me to Hell and you could've raised me instead of dragging me here."

                      He let out another laugh. Every time he did that I my urge to strangle him grew stronger. "Do you think I have the time or patience to take care of a human baby?" He chuckled to himself. "You know Charity, just because I am not God doesn't mean I'm not as busy as him."

                 "Busy doing what? Torturing people? Spreading evil? Maybe, you could've done something useful and good for once." I snapped at him.

                       "Charity, the only concern I have was to protect you and claim my prize when you turned eighteen. I did not make a deal to raise you." He snapped back at me, his purple eyes met mine and I shivered.

                   "I'm not your prize. I'm not a prize!" My voice was a little weaker than I intended it to be. Jeez, I was defeated. I couldn't argue with this man anymore.

                       "You were sold to me. Obviously to your mother you are a object with a huge price-tag."

                        "My mother would neve--"

                    "Oh, but she did." He placed his hands on the arm rest and lifted his chin, gazing out at the crowd. His gaze landed on a red headed woman, on a strip pole. She winked at him and turned up to the man in front of her.

                       When had those gotten there?

                       "Phil and Rita will come looking for me." I insisted.

                   "No they won't, trust me." His eyes stood glued to the stripper. Fear leapt to my throat, after hearing the rock solid confidence in his voice. What if he was right?

                      What if they stopped looking for me? What if they never even bothered to look for me? What if they hate me?

                          I turned from the devil and and looked out into the dancing crowd, as I fought back the tears that were threatening to stream out my eyes. The crowd were all dressed like Hollywood stars, with alchool in their hands. They grinded on each other, guys on girls, girls on guys, guys on guys. I looked away from the disturbing sight and focused on the 13 year old kid walking up to me.

                        His cheeks were hollow. His charcol eyes masked with grief. He climbed the stairs and spread out a platter of a blood color drink in front on me. His pale boney arms shook uncontobaly. That left me wondering, what had happen to him?

                           The devil picked up the glass of wine, making the kid look to me--he didn't meet my eyes though. His eyes darted from one side to the other, like he was trying to avoid looking at me.

                         "Would you like, my dear?" The devil handed a glass to me, but I quickly shoved it away from me.

                            "I don't drink."

                            "Why not? Drinking is fun!" He chuckled.

                           "I don't drink alchool, or wine--in this case--unless it's been blessed by a priest and God." I smirked as his face fell, and filled with rage. But he quickly caught his composer.

                           "And what is so good about 'Gods'' wine?" He asked, taking a sip of his.

                           "It protects me from people, like you. And reminds me who's the real Master."

                            The devil scoffed, "Huh, as if. It's nothing but a bunch of blasphemy."

                      "You are nothing but a bunch of blasphemy." I countered. And glanced at the boy still standing there. The devil must have notice to because he placed his wine down beside him, and glared the boy.

                     "Why the hell are you still standing here?" His voice boomed across the dance floor. And everyone stopped.

                     The boy glanced nervously around the room. "Y-y-ou...uh...d-d-idn't...uh...dism-m-miss m-me...uh...Master." The boy shuddered, pure fear cover his black eyes. He looked as the though he would've peed his pants.

                     "Oh." The devil leaned back in his seat and picked up his glass again. He flicked his hand, as though to dismiss the boy.

                      The boy bowed, staying a little longer and then turned away, and practically ran down the stairway. I sighed, this place was the worse. How could they treat a boy like that?

                     I turned to the devil, but before I could speak he did, "Don't look at me like that. They need to be put in their place."

                       "He's a little kid! You freakin' animal! No wonder you're stuck down here!"

                    "I'm stuck down here, because I choose to be! Now, I won't kill you now, but the next time you rise you voice at me, I will throw you to my dogs!" Fire glazed over his eyes.

                       I narrowed my eyes at him, but looked away. I needed to get out of here, and maybe even take that kid with me.

 

After a while of staring out into the crowd, the devil stood up and walked to the center of throne floor. He clapped his hands twice, "Shut up, all of you! Shut up!"

                        Immediately the room went still. "Come along, my princes." He said and a row of well dressed men, in all black entered from the black door. The lined up in front of the door, their eyes trained on me. Admittedly they were all very hot, but they were also the demons of Hell.

                          A blondie stepped up to me and smiled. "It is an honor to meet you, Princess Charity." He gave me a sweet smile and stepped back for the other guy to go.

                    A sharp featured brunette stepped up next. His emerald pink eyes connected with mines, and they never blink. He advanced closer to me, and boyish smile on his lips. He took a bow and looked up at me through his eyelashes. "It's an honor to meet you, most beautiful, Princess Charity."

                       I rolled my eyes, but inside my heart betrayed me, it thumped quickly. Holy cheese! What is going on?

                             One by one the other four men came and greeted me.

                            "Where is Abigar?" The devil shot up out his seat.

                         "He is suppose to be here, Master." The pink and green eyed one, said, a victory smile hid in his eyes.

                           "Then why isn't he here!" The devil asked frantically. "Asmodeus, was he with you?" The devil turned to the green/pink eye guy.

                                  "No, Abigar, told me to leave him be."

                            I glanced over at the devil, a vein popped out from his neck. He gritted his teeth and flex his fist. "Why that little--"

                        "He is here, Master!" Someone yelled, and I watched as the victory wiped clean off Asmodeus' face. A slender guy shoved opened the door, with every stride of his long legs he took with confidence. He took one last step and stood face-to-face with the devil.

                               "I am here." His face was as expressionless as his master.

                               "Good." The devil turned away and sat back in his seat.

                            I straightened in my seat as Abigar's gaze slid over to me. He didn't smile, or frown--no-instead he just stared at me.

                           "Is this her?" He finally asked in his deep voice.

                           "What do you think, Abigar?" The devil snapped tirelessly.

                       I watched as Abigar storde over to me. My eyes widened as he got closer. Xavier? Xavier from class? This couldn't be happening. This was the guy I met in the hallway? But he looked so...normal in the hallway! And he smiled.

                             "It is an honor to marry you, Princess Charity." He grabbed my hand and yanked it to his lips.

                            Marry? Did he just say marry? Was he joking? There is no way in Hell, I'm marrying him. This surley had to be a joke. I pulled my hand way from him before his lips could reach it.

                              "Excuse me? I'm not marrying you."

                              Xavier glanced at the devil, nervously, "Father?"

                          From the back I heard a snicker, I looked over Xaviers' shoulder, to see Asmodues smirking wildly. The devil laughed also, throwing back his head.

                             "Abigar, don't worry. She is marrying you."

                              "Says who?" I ordered.

                               "Says, I."

                                 "And certainly I say no. You have no right to tell me--"

                                "I have no right? You have no right, sweetheart," He spat the word with venom. "To tell me what to do. You are on my land now." His eyes bore into my mine. "Take your bride, Abigar."

                           I jumped out my seat. "There is no way, in f*****g Hell I'm marrying this archfiend thing. A you, Satan, have no right to tell me that I do!" I raged, my chest moving up down. I was sick of this, him telling me he owned me. No one owned me.

                                  The devil shot out his seat. "I told you the next time you raised your voice--"

                            "I don't give a f*cking sh*t!" I turned to Xavier, "And don't you dare try and touch me again."

                              I shoved past Xavier and the devil. Ignoring the stares of the other demons, and rushed out the door of the ballroom. I hitched up my dress once I got outside and kicked off my shoes. I pumped my feet faster as I ran down the dark hallway. The tears I had been holding in for so long, finally came crashing down.

                                I halted at my door, and banged it with my fist. "Melinda! Melinda, please, open the door!" I pleaded, my voice shaking. Almost immediately the door swung open. I looked up at Melinda's afflicted -stickened face, knowing the tears left stains on my cheeks.

                                 Melinda ushered me in, quickly. "What happened, mylady?"

                            "They dragged me down here to marry a demon!" I exclaimed and flopped down into the chair beside the fireplace. Melinda followed me and stood by the chair opposite me.

                            "What did you do, misses?" She asked nervously.

                             "I told him to f*ck off, that's what I did!" The tears continued to stream mindlessly out of my eyes. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to go home.

                         "Oh no, this is not good. You never reject a prince, or yell at Big Daddy." Melinda shook her head. "You'd be lucky if he just torture you for the rest of your life."

                                 "What?"

                              "If any did that to him, he'd torture them forever. You'd be lucky if he torture you then killed you."

                                 "Melinda, I'm not get--"

                                 "How dare you!" A loud voice interrupted me. Xavier flew into the room, just as fast as my body smacked into the wall. "If you know what's good for you Miss Charity," He growled. I wiggled underneath his grip on my neck. "I would never talk to me like that again."

                               "If you knew what's good for you--"

                       "Save it!" He yelled, and my body dropped to the floor with a thud. "I want to here nothing more from you!"

                              "Touch my like that again, and you'll wish you never did." I threatened.

                                Laughing he shook his head,  "Or you'll do what?" Xavier mocked me.

                               "Abigar," Someone called from the door. "Leave. I will talk to the girl."

                           Xavier--Abigar, or whatever--glared at me one more time before storming out the door. I rose to my feet and shoot daggers at the man standing in front of me.

                             The devil shut the door with a flick of his wrist , but his eyes never left me. His lips pressed in a hard line, as he stepped to feet in front of me. "Sit," He commanded in a bloodcurdling voice.

                                    And I obeyed.