The devil laughed as the cage door swung open. “You’re in for a hot time tonight, little delver. This will teach you not to steal from the wrong dungeon.”

Then the room door opened as two round-shaped, hunched figures slinked through the doorway. She recognized them immediately. Tick devils. Semi-mindless, hard-shelled, and insect-like, tick devils were commonly employed as servants by their more intelligent cousins. They followed orders without question, rarely spoke, and derived satisfaction solely from the rare moments when they were able to lap up the blood of their masters’ victims.

She never had been a fan of Sable Unlimited’s underworld. There were too many servants of evil who seemed to enjoy their jobs. They reminded her too much of the demons and devils found in comic books and Anime shows. This echoed her biggest complaint about Sable Unlimited. The writing. The game felt like it had been written by a room full of really edgy high school kids. The kind who, when it came down to it, really only dressed in dark clothing, wore too much makeup, smoked dope in the school parking lot, and spent way too much time on the internet.

With a cackle, the devil then tossed her over his back and carried her across the room. Okay focus, honey because this guy is going to torture you and then kill you. Or he’s going to kill you and then torture you. No, wait. He’s going to either kill you or disembowel you or pull out your toenails or shove spikes up orifices or dislocate one of your limbs or pull out your teeth or perhaps even rip your skin off inch by inch and then kill you. Why am I thinking about this? I need to focus or this is going to get real.

Reaching the far wall, the devil laid her down atop a table and cut the rope from her wrists and ankles. My legs and hands are free. I should at least try to fight now, right? Taking aim, she sent her right foot at the devil’s head, but her boot only flopped against his ear.

“Ow!” The devil cried.

A massive hand grabbed her by the leg and lifted her off the table before a meaty fist struck her in the nose. She felt a crunch as part of her face caved in and then she could feel something warm running down the front of her face as the pain of her broken nose set in.

She spat out a wad of blood and glared, “You’re bery rude.” What am I saying? I need to just shut the hell up and hope this doesn’t get any worse.

“And you’re a helpless little bitch,” the devil replied. “Tarkas does not tolerate insubordination among his prisoners.”

She sputtered through the blood, “I don’t recall gibing you permission to take b’me b’risoner.”

The devil’s fist struck her face again, this time in her mouth. As the fist drew away, she could feel several of her teeth had been knocked loose. Why am I talking to this monster? This is a devil from the underworld created with the sole purpose of torturing hapless prisoners like me. Why would I want this man to be even more angry? What am I doing? And that’s when she realized that she didn’t feel any fear, only anger. Something about this devil, something she couldn’t quite place, made her very, very angry.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“You’re going to hab to do better than that,” she spat.

“Fine,” the devil grinned, “I will.”

Two strong hands grabbed her feet and fastened her to the leg straps. Okay, this is it. This is where the simulation cuts off, right? This is where this neural link, or whatever it is, stops playing around and cuts off the pain. This can’t be real. This is only a game. This is only a game. Then Tarkas turned a crank on the side of the table and she felt the wood beneath her back begin to expand. By the Lady, I’m going to be pulled apart.

“I call this my extender,” Tarkas growled.

“That’s not a bery imaginatibe name,” she said.

“It doesn’t have to be,” grunted Tarkas.

The devil turned the crank again and she felt her shoulders begin to give. Another crank and she felt her hips and ankles begin to pull apart. The blood was running down her face and neck and onto her chest as the crank was turned again and again. Her left shoulder popped. Then her right. They were out of joint now. She could feel it, though the shock was working its way through her nervous system. Then that pain came shooting up her arms and through her shoulder joints and into her neck. Then two more cranks. She could feel it in her back now as her spine spasmed and popped. Okay, some of those felt kinda good.

“Dhanks for the adjustment,” she said.

The devil laughed. “I’ll be adjusting a lot more than that, my beauty.”

It was getting harder to talk, so instead she aimed and spat a tooth at Tarkas. “If you b’wanted a beauty, then bwhy did you bmess up my face?”

Tarkas only gurgled with sadistic laughter. However, before the devil could turn the crank again, the door opened and someone walked in.

A strong, feminine voice barked, “Tarkas, what are you doing?”

The voice caused the devil to growl in displeasure. “This is my prisoner Narene, and I shall do with her what I please. Who gave you permission to interrupt my work?”

“In case you had forgotten, Tarkas, she is not your prisoner. She is Severin’s. Now I will ask you again, what are you doing?”

The devil did not back down. “I am doing what I always do. I will ask you again Narene, what makes you think you can come in here and interrupt my work?”

Narene. I’m not sure if this is good or bad, but she can’t be worse than this Tarkas. Calista tried to crane her neck to peer around Tarkas’s bulk, but the hulking devil blocked her view.

Neera’s voice was almost warm. “I arrive at Severin’s behest. He wanted me to check in on you, to make certain you were not harming this prisoner before he could interrogate her properly.”

Tarkas’s voice became uncertain. “What do you mean, interrogate her properly? She is a common sneak thief who was caught wandering our halls.”

“Hmm,” the woman was dismissive. “That is not what Severin thinks.” Calista felt a hand caress her head. “I don’t think our lord and master will be pleased that you’ve damaged this one without his consent.” More footsteps and then Calista could see the flowing snakes of the medusa appear before her. “But I’ll leave your actions to his judgment. I am only here to take this prisoner off your hands.”

Then the gorgon turned to Calista as her eyes began to glow. “Sleep little one. You won’t have far to go.”