A Cold Day in Hell (An Erotic Paranormal Short Story) Read Free

stony
lust in the demon’s eyes. She had an urge to cover herself, even though it had
surely watched every moment of her long, degrading performance.
    "Please, can I be at peace now?” she pleaded,
her voice husky from screaming. “I did what you said. I've atoned for my sins."
    The demon smiled and shuffled to the wall. Dara
stared blankly at the name illuminated on the icy surface: Richard Walters. It
meant nothing to her.
    “How very cold your heart was. You don’t even
remember him. High school history teacher, junior year. You ruined him.”
    Now she remembered, but dull anger came with the
memory. “So I teased him a little! I’m hardly the only one who’s ever done
that, and where are those other little bitches in my class who did the same
thing? I don’t see them in here.”
    The demon’s smile cooled another hundred degrees.
“They aren’t here because their flaunting was largely innocent and did no harm.
The naked photo you “accidentally” sent him by text. Remember that? How hard
you had to work to get his private number so that accident could happen?
So you could make him remember whenever he looked at you after that? That
picture was discovered and cost him his marriage, his family, and his career. Eventually
his life, at his own hand. Are you satisfied?”
    A flush heated her face, but it brought no comfort. “I-I
didn’t know.”
    “Of course you didn’t. You were already on to the
next adventure.” The demon deliberately scratched out the name with an icy claw.
Within moments the imprint faded, the eternal righting of wrongs.
    Humility. That was the key right now. “I’m sorry. I truly
am. I didn’t know how much I was hurting others. I’ve done what you asked.
Please let me go, whether that’s to heaven or back to life or just to die.
Please. I’m truly sorry.”
    The roar of laughter from her hellish host made her
cower. “My dear, you have no idea yet what it is to be sorry. Your damage has
been extreme.”
    It gestured to the back of the cave, now illuminated
in cold, eldritch light. She saw rows and rows of ice stalks lining the ceiling
and floor, like the fangs of some improbable beast.
    "One for each person you harmed. And you have
harmed many. We provide straps from the ceiling, of course. How else can you
melt the ones on top unless you're upside down? Those are reserved for, shall
we say, other openings than you used on this first round."
    Dara started to cry, the tears freezing to delicate,
sparkling lace on her skin.
    “You look beautiful in pain and covered with frost.”
The demon’s tone was appreciative. For the first time she noticed that an ice
phallus, so similar to those in the cave, rustled coldly against its massive, rocky
thighs.
    Not an it, then. A he.
    She tried to control the tremble in her smile, to
stand straighter despite the cold. “Please. I beg you. Please let me go. I’ll
do anything you want.”
    The massive head shook slowly side to side, but the
harsh tone was oddly tender now. “It’s beyond my power. Once you’ve worked
through the cave – if you ever work through it – I will be your last test. Then
I may find relief from this hell of my own. I’m sure you can understand that I
have a deep and personal interest in seeing you succeed. I plan to find many
ways to…encourage you.” The leer returned. “And I can promise you that I am not
easily satisfied. This cave is your practice.”
    A scream, hopeless and tinged with madness, tore from
her raw throat. “I can’t do this!”
    The ice-gray eyes met hers with cold fire behind
them. “Yes, you can, and you will. Because there’s no rest for the wicked,” he
said.
     
    THE END

 
    The characters and events in this
story are a pure work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, dead or
alive, is a hellish coincidence and unintended by the author.
     
     
    Text copyright © 2013 Deni D’Amore
    All rights reserved.
     
     
    No portion of this book may be
reproduced, stored, or