Chapter 20

~~Day 31~~

~~Mia~~

Dead, for a month. In Hell for just over two weeks. The amount of things that’d happened to her in that time was insane.

And yet here she was, bored out of her fucking skull. Days! They’d been stuck in the tunnel for days! Multiple! She groaned and dragged her feet, and dodged the billionth bit of bloodgrip vine barely lit by amber veins on the cave walls.

“I’m tired,” she said.

Vinicius said nothing.

“My feet hurt.”

Vinicius said nothing.

“I’m going out of my god damn mind, Vinicius! How much longer is this damn tunnel?”

The giant monster groaned and sighed, both quiet sounds that his enormous body made loud, regardless. He stopped and set a hand against the wall. No denying it. He was tired, too. Tired, and hungry, exhausted and worn and practically drooling.

“I don’t know. They change with the centuries.”

“You could just say you don’t remember, you know. You were locked up for a couple hundred years. Not like I expect you to actually remember these tunnels.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because we’ve been down here for ... what, four, five days? I like to talk to myself, but you’re here, so you have to listen to me talk to myself.”

He grumbled, and said nothing.

“What, you didn’t talk to yourself when you were alone in Zel’s dungeon?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He turned his head enough to aim one dragon eye at her. Angry, annoyed, or intrigued? It was hard to tell with him. Not Kas hard, but hard.

“Why would I?”

“Because...” Because why? Why did humans talk to themselves? It wasn’t like all humans did, but she certainly did, and she knew her brother did. It was important for organizing her thoughts, and for helping her not go insane. “Never mind. Demons aren’t humans.”

He snorted and resumed the walk. But a minute later came to a stop and held out one of his four hands. No need for Mia to question him. They’d been traveling together for so long she recognized his motions. There was noise up ahead she couldn’t hear yet.

It didn’t take long before she heard it, and recognized it. Remnants. Not a lot of them, maybe a dozen spread out around a wider section of tunnel. The poor souls were wrapped in bloodgrip, most half growing out of the stone, some with only their arms and heads free, and one with only their head free of the rock. All of them bled horribly, screaming and crying, twisting and making the vines rip their skin open, as if doing everything they could to make their pain worse.

“Poor souls,” Mia said. “I ... I really wish we could—”

Vinicius reached down, and with three of his hands, scooped up three remnants, and ripped them from the stones.

“Vinicius!”

The demon rumbled in his chest, an annoyed and tired sound, and he swallowed down the flesh of the remnants. No effort made to get only the heart, he opened them up and either dumped their organs into his mouth, or bit into them and swallowed half their torsos in a single bite.

Mia covered her mouth and looked away. No good, she had to cover her ears after, and clenched her eyes tight as the screams of remnants filled the background. It didn’t matter how hard she pressed on her ears, she couldn’t completely block out the sound of breaking bone and gnashing teeth.

At least the monster worked fast. He finished the twelve remnants in thirty seconds.

Mia lowered her hands, gulped down the non-existent food her body wanted to vomit, and forced herself to turn around. Her imagination didn’t lie. Limbs, guts, bones peeled of soft remnant flesh, blood, it was everywhere, especially on Vinicius. His dark red skin was now drenched in crimson, and it borderline flowed down his neck as he chewed.

“I ... I thought remnants didn’t have any resonance or essence to eat?”

“Only traces,” he said. He did not bother wiping his mouth.

“I know imps and grems eat remnants, scavenging and stuff. But Adron said even they don’t get much sustenance from them, and they’re tiny.”

Vinicius nodded and began the trek forward again. No need to say it, she could see it in every lumbering step, and the way his grumbles and growls came more and more frequently. He was starving.

“How long ... How long?”

“I don’t—”

“I meant about you. How long until you ... I don’t know, can’t move?” She would not say ‘starve to death’. There were enough bad omens and bad luck coming her way, no need to tempt fate for more.

That got another grumble out of him, but nothing else. He marched forward, tail almost brushing the ground as he walked, like it was too heavy for him to keep up. He made no effort to avoid stepping on the soft bodies of the dead remnants either, and Mia again had to look away to keep from seeing them get crushed.

In a matter of hours, the blood would all be gone, absorbed by Hell herself. In a day, all the gore. And remnant bones were soft, too, so they’d only last a few more days, maybe less, before the tunnel would be clean again. Demons, and souls who hadn’t died in Hell yet, their flesh and blood didn’t last any longer when they died, absorbed into Hell. But their bones lasted. You knew you were heading into dangerous territory when you found old bones.

They found old bones.

The tunnel opened into a cavern, big enough the amber veins didn’t light up the ceiling very well. What amber veins she could see up there were half blocked off by massive stalactites. No stalagmites on the ground, though, as if someone had removed them. A smooth cave floor?

There were giant statues around, made of the dark metal so much stuff in Hell was made of. No, not giant statues, just of giant demons. Tetrad demons. Some sat, some stood, all of them waited near the wall of the giant cave, some on thrones of rock, some in epic poses with sword in hand, and some in sexual positions. Tetrad demons may have seemed small compared to Vinicius, but they were still huge, ten-foot-tall creatures that made other demons look tame.

Korgejins like Gorlus and Saldavin, with hooves and giant wings. Gorujins, they had wings too, but raptorial feet instead, and a tail. And for the ladies, bolstaras like Zel, with hooves and four arms. Fujaras too, also with four arms, but with raptorial feet and a tail.

Every ‘jin’ demon, the male demons, had penises. That was unusual. A glance at Vin proved that the male demons didn’t go walking around with their dicks out. They had them stored inside their body. Testicles, too. Not the statues. All the male statues looked ready to fight and fuck, or just fuck, and more than a few of them were sitting in very ‘hop on my dick’ positions.

Some of the lady statues had dicks, too. That was unusual.

Much as tetrad demons were all unusually hot, in that big scary monster kinda way, the giant cavern killed any sexiness. There were bones everywhere, human bones, demon bones, all shapes and sizes, and they were scattered. Thousands of skeletons, maybe more, the remains of their bodies piled into mounds, or left to collect dust — no dust in Hell — by the torture machines.

Torture machines? She gulped and came closer. Yeap, those were torture machines. Platforms made of black metal, tables and chairs and stuff, many covered in the sort of chains Vinicius had once been bound in. Some of them had holes, and judging from the metal sticks with sharp edges lying nearby, the holes provided easy stabbing of sensitive places. Some machines had corner hooks for holding limbs, and chains meant for pulling on them. Draw and quarter. A lot of the tables and chairs still had skeletons on or in them, and their bones carried hundreds of scars.

“The fuck is this place?”

“One of Valzanal’s torture rooms.” Vinicius shrugged and marched through the giant cavern toward the tunnel on the other side. He didn’t give a shit about the room. Bones crunched and snapped under his talons, and the sound echoed in the giant cave.

Vinicius stopped, looked to one of the tetrad statues, a fujara, and marched over to her. Valzanal, no doubt. A deep rumble vibrated through his chest, and he gestured up at the symbols written over the statue’s head. Not the ancient language, just the usual language Mia’s brain read as English, despite how it obviously wasn’t.

‘Valzanal. Let Suffering and Pain Become You.’ It could have been ‘thee’ instead of ‘you’, but either way, the text wasn’t talking about Valzanal, but about what she’d do to you.

Vinicius did not like that. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, nothing. Everything shut off and went quiet.

“She really pissed you off?”

“She did.” His voice was an earthquake in his throat.

“Her and Zel? Because they ruled Death’s Grip? Because—”

Vinicius’s whole body flexed. Slowly, he aimed his gaze toward her, and Mia froze.

Oh shit.

Would the leash work? Would it work? Oh god, she prayed it’d work if she needed to use it. But the look Vinicius gave her put a doubt in her mind, a big one. Angry. He was angry. Not angry at her, just angry, and it poured out of him even without using a sin aura. He tightened the muscles in his hands without making fists; probably so he didn’t puncture his palms. But that didn’t stop him from digging his talons into the ground, and with how heavy he was, they cut through the rock.

The dozens of huge black spikes coming out of his back, his head, and his elbows and knees, glowed.

“It was mine,” he said, and he aimed his mouth at the statue. “It was mine.”

She opened her mouth, and closed it.

“It ... was ... mine,” he said again. No temper tantrum. No screaming or yelling. Children threw temper tantrums and screamed and yelled. This was something else. Something deeper. Something worse.

She’d read about this in her psych books, the sort of people who didn’t just get angry and throw things, or hit things, or hit people, but absorbed and embodied their hate and rage until it multiplied inside them. Their brains grabbed onto negative thoughts and spiraled them down, and down, and down, until they went fission bomb, a chain reaction that destroyed anything and everything nearby. For humans, that often meant grabbing a gun and killing a lot of people.

For a demon as strong as Vinicius, someone who probably enjoyed violence and carnage for its own sake, it meant something entirely different.

She took a step back, and another, and another. Slowly, she slipped her fingers around the necklace, and squeezed it until her fingers shook. She didn’t activate it. She didn’t know if it’d work. It’d hurt him, but right now, she didn’t know if that’d be enough to stop him.

His spikes grew brighter. He rumbled in his chest again, and this time, the walls shook.

“It should be mine. It should have been mine.”

He held out his four arms, looked down at his claws, and leaned forward, just like he’d done that time he’d incinerated the entire dungeon in the spire. The amber glow on his spikes pulsed, and a subtle humming sound filled the air. His fingers flexed tighter, and he glared at them as fire leaked out from between his crocodile teeth.

He was going to explode, and she was in the blast radius.

“She’s dead!” someone yelled. They sounded an awful lot like Mia. “She’s dead, and Zel’s dead! I killed her! You helped me kill her!”

His growling, deep enough she felt it more than heard it, continued on, but at least it didn’t get any louder.

“Val and Zel are both dead, and you can come rule Death’s Grip or whatever when I’m done saving the world. You heard her, that woman in the aera armor, and you believed her. And we’ve been stuck together for a bit now. Do you think I’d lie?” She could lie better than her brother, but a virgin nun could lie circles around him. Mia wasn’t much better.

After a couple painful minutes of watching the titan quietly wrestle with his rage, like watching a ticking time bomb about to go any minute, Vinicius rumbled softly and nodded. His flexing muscles eased, and the glowing amber of his spikes died down until it was gone. His talons released the rock beneath him, his four arms fell at his sides, and his tail rested on the ground as he stood more upright.

“Let’s go,” he said, and walked ahead.

She forced herself to match pace, but stayed behind him, a few feet between her and his giant tail swaying with his steps a foot off the ground. Staring down at it, she let it distract her from the trembling in her limbs. Vinicius hadn’t bothered with a sin aura. If he had, it’d have made her angry and violent, too. No, he’d just stood there and boiled in his rage, and her fingers had gone numb.

“You’re scary,” she said.

He looked over his shoulder, past the huge spike there, and rumbled some more. Of course, he wouldn’t say anything.

“You—”

“I am a child of Belial.” Oh, he was going to say something. “The tetrad demons are scary. Angels are scary. I am more.” And it was to boast, of course. But, watching his giant, wide back as he continued on, Mia couldn’t help but absorb his words. It didn’t sound like boasting. It sounded like someone stating an essential fact to spare her the embarrassment of making a horrible mistake.

“Angels are scary?” Summoning a little courage, she jogged up and walked beside him. Well, half beside, half behind him. She still wanted him in front in case another wurm or something attacked.

“The mikalim and rapholem can be. The gabriem are pests.”

Mikalim, rapholem, and gabriem. Those sounded familiar.

“Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel?”

He grunted and nodded.

“These angels, they’re ... kinds of angels? Like demon types?”

Another nod.

“Did the archangels exist, too?”

“They did.”

“Oh, wow. Did you ever meet them?”

“Only their corpses.”

“Their ... corpses...” She gulped and shivered. Okay, that was probably one of the most depressing things she’d ever heard. “The angels are dead?”

“The archangels. I don’t know about Lucifer. And the council of angels remain.”

“Council of angels?”

“Larger than other angels. Much more deadly.”

She’d seen one of those angels, at the gate of Heaven. They’d been pretty horrifying, yeah.

“Have you ... ever killed an angel?”

“Yes.”

More shivers danced up her spine.

“Ever ... eaten one?”

“No. Angels are rarely alone, and they do not leave their dead behind.”

How patriotic. But at least Vin was talking now. Maybe letting out a bit of rage was all he needed? Maybe—

Shifting rocks in the darkness snapped her around. To the left, in the dark of the giant cavern and its literal piles of bones, something moved. A lot of things moved, and they came straight at Mia and Vinicius.

A brute, a couple vratorins, and a couple gargoyles leapt from the shadow, straight at the two of them. Their feet kicked up the skeletons that littered the floor, and the once silent cave filled with the noise of rattling bones and roaring demons. One of the vrats came for Mia, but the other four demons went for Vinicius. And the vrat coming at Mia, very much not Adron, swung a giant sword straight down at her.

Vinicius blocked it. The giant charged through the chaos, taking claws along his sides and legs, and blocked the vrat’s sword with the spikes along the back of his forearm. The spikes didn’t stop the sword from sliding down the black surface into the giant’s skin and muscle, though, and a splatter of red hit Mia in the face. Vin’s blood.

She stood there. Didn’t move, didn’t scream, didn’t do anything. She just stood there and watched as Vinicius twisted the arm, grabbed the vrat by the throat and face, and crushed it into mulch. The sound of breaking bone, and the expulsion of blood and gore from the vrat’s face and its new holes shattered Mia’s petrification.

She dove for cover, literally into the bones that covered the ground. Not exactly protection, and not deep enough for her to hide under, but enough that the gargoyle that ran around Vinicius and came for Mia didn’t cut her open when she swiped at her. Bones went flying as the gargoyle slashed and slashed, and Mia kept backing up into more bones.

Symbols flashed through her eyes, and again one specific rune blazed in her thoughts until it almost blinded her. Batlam. Sword. Shield. Spear. Bow. Battle. Fight. Defend.

Her hand wrapped something. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the things on the list in her head, but it was better than nothing. A big demon bone, maybe a femur. Whatever kind of bone it was, it was shaped like a club, and Mia swung it at the gargoyle woman. Clunk. She hit the demon lady on the top of the head, right between the horns. It was enough to stun the gargoyle for a whole second.

Long enough for Vinicius to grab the gargoyle with his two lower hands, and yank her back hard enough she flew, spun around, and crashed into a distant pile of bones. Vinicius didn’t have time to kill her, not with the other vrat in a free hand, the brute in the other, and the remaining gargoyle on his right shoulder and tearing into him.

The demons fighting him didn’t care, and didn’t stop. As blood flowed down Vinicius’s neck, chest, and down his legs as the gargoyle on his shoulder ripped open his trapezoid, sin auras flowed over the area. Heat, the bad kind, the sort that made your insides hurt and boil, spiked adrenaline until your limbs shook, and blinded you to anything other than breaking whatever was in front of you. It poured out of Vinicius, and it poured out of every demon.

None of them cared if they lived or died anymore. Even as Vinicius killed them, they didn’t stop.

The brute escaped, freed by the gargoyle ripping into Vin’s arm that held him. Vinicius spun. His tail hit the brute hard. The huge demon, almost nine feet tall, was just a child compared to Vinicius, and while he didn’t go flying, he fell and rolled into the bones. That gave Vinicius enough time to get more hands onto the remaining vratorin, and rip him into several pieces. The gargoyle clawing his shoulder open came next, Vinicius grabbing them with his only free hand. Her chest imploded in his palm, like he’d squeezed a raw egg.

A disgusting mix of blood and other things squirted out between his fingers as he squeezed the demon woman. Some of it hit Mia’s chest. It was warm.

“Vin! Behind—”

Vinicius snapped his glare to Mia, and she froze. But, even as he glared at her with rage and murder in his eyes, he spun, and caught the remaining gargoyle that leapt for his back. She died in pieces, and Vinicius roared.

And laughed. He roared and laughed with the joy of someone brimming with satisfaction and pride.

Vinicius turned and faced the brute, the only remaining demon. It got up from the sea of bones and launched itself at Vinicius, a full on leap. Big as Vinicius was, he was horribly injured, and couldn’t bring his hands up in time. The brute’s colossal weight smashed into his upper half, and Vinicius fell onto his back with a booming thud. Bones shattered and flowed outward almost like a ripple in water.

The brute mounted Vinicius’s face and tore into the giant monster’s throat with his claws.

“Vinicius!” Oh god. Oh shit oh god. Vinicius wasn’t stopping him. The giant monster half roared half growled, but it was an exhausted mess, and full of gargling blood. The brute was going for the weak spot, his throat, and tearing at him with mindless ferocity, until Vin’s blood soaked the brute’s face and chest.

Even as the sin auras demanded she stop thinking and simply pounce and give into her rage and bloodlust, she didn’t. She would not let the aura consume her, she couldn’t. Being stupid and mindlessly violent wouldn’t save her bodyguard.

Mia looked around, grabbed one of the shattered bones with a sharp tip, and ran around. The brute didn’t look her way, wholly absorbed in his bloodlust and need to kill the much bigger demon. She had to do something, or she was next.

She had to do something, because seeing the four-armed demon gargle on his own blood was killing her, too.

She jumped up onto the brute’s back. No point in trying to stab him there. Like Diogo, brutes had very thick skin, almost pure black, but they had soft spots where everyone had them.

The brute didn’t respond. She climbed onto his giant back, and like she was driving a sword into a stone, she used both hands and slammed the sharp bone sideways into the side of the demon’s neck, forward enough it got the soft stuff. That got a response.

The brute stood up, roared and gargled on his own blood, too, and spun around. Mia wasn’t there anymore. Brutes had no spikes to climb, and using both hands to stab him meant she fell back onto Vin’s legs and tail. Everything turned to chaos as she got up and tried to run away, but Vin’s tree-trunk legs and tail bigger than her entire body were kicking and swinging, and she bounced off.

Bones caught her, hundreds of them, the most uncomfortable surface she could have possibly landed on. Some broke under her, some didn’t, and she yelped as more than a few of them tore her skin. She scampered to her feet the moment her ass hit the ground, though, grabbed another big bone, and prepared to defend herself against a nearly nine-foot-tall juggernaut.

But the juggernaut, facing her and glaring at her with murder in his eyes as he marched toward her, fell forward. Vinicius had grabbed one of his legs. The creature landed on the ground a foot in front of Mia, a giant bone sticking out of his neck, and blood flowing out of his mouth and skull-ish flat nose.

The brute tried to get up, and planted his palms against the ground. Screaming, Mia swung her new bone into the side of the bone sticking out of the brute’s throat. The bone in her hand shattered, but the bone in the brute’s neck did not. It sank deeper, and the gargling demon collapsed as a new flood of blood poured from his mouth, and his new hole.

He stopped moving.

“That’s ... two...,” she said, panting. “I bet David doesn’t have that many.” Easier to make a joke about her demon kill count, than think about what’d she just done. “Vinicius, are you ... Oh fuck.”

Vinicius held his torn throat with one hand, his torn trapezoid with another, and used the other two to push himself up to sitting. He failed, and his back hit the rock and bed of bones again, back spikes grinding against the stone.

“Vinicius!” She ran up to the side of his head. “Fucking ... fuck! Are you gonna be okay?”

He tried to sit up again, and failed again. Blood seeped out from between his fingers, not nearly as much as the brute had, but far more than was safe. She’d seen him bleed buckets and live, but this was worse.

He tried to sit up again.

“Stop! Stop moving, god damn it. Just, just hold still. I’ll...” She looked around at the bodies. Two dead vrats, two dead gargoyles, and a dead brute. The fight had lasted a whole sixty seconds, less even, and blood was everywhere. More than a bit of it dripped from Mia’s hands, and her feet were coated in it. She refused to look at the weird, not-quite-red-kinda-pink stuff that’d landed on her chest earlier when Vin had crushed the vrat’s skull.

Vinicius needed to eat, and he needed to now. Not remnants, but real food. Human hearts, or demon hearts.

Mia dashed around the monster and looked at the bodies.

The gargoyle, the one he’d grabbed off his shoulder, he’d grabbed her by the chest and had squeezed her hard enough she’d crunched. Lot of broken bones. Lot of ripped and torn flesh.

The bones around Mia’s feet, were any of them sharp? Were—oh thank god, the vratorin that’d had a sword, the sword was nearby. She grabbed the hilt.

“Fuck!” That, was a heavy sword. That was a very heavy sword. Mia was fit and strong for her size, but she was just a tiny girl. The sword probably weighed as much as she did.

She dragged it toward the gargoyle. This was taking too long. If more demons showed up, suicidal or hungry ones like the five before, Vinicius couldn’t defend her. And he had defended her, genuinely defended her.

He didn’t have to do that. He could have let her die, and then killed the demons. No more leash to worry about. Why? Why did he do that? He was a fucking asshole who only cared about carnage, destruction, and taking back Death’s Grip. Nearly a week ago, he’d tried to hurt Mia, and the leash had stopped him. That meant his intent had been real, and he was genuinely going to hurt her, probably kill her.

Just now, he’d saved her life, twice. Why?

With a deep breath, Mia got the sword behind her, its tip on the ground and her hands on the hilt, and she bent forward and swung it over her shoulder like she was flipping a person over her in self defense class. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut her back or shoulder, but sharp enough it split the gargoyle’s already ruined, shattered chest in half. Almost in half. The sword stopped before getting through the gargoyle’s back. A gory mess, blood splattering everywhere as the weight of the sword did most of the work.

Over two weeks in Hell and the sight of a ribcage breaking apart, and guts spilling out, was quickly becoming manageable. It didn’t make her want to vomit. Still nauseous, but at least she could stay standing and keep working.

She got on her knees, reached down, and got her hands on the gargoyle’s heart. Okay, now she wanted to vomit.

She tried to rip it free, but that was easier said than done. Maybe she could look for a sharp bone, something light she could wield? No, no time. She planted her feet hard, and yanked harder. Just doing a deadlift, just a deadlift, not ripping a heart free of binding veins and arteries, nope nope nope. Flesh tore, and the heart came free, much of the gargoyle’s inner flesh already half ripped by the sword, or by Vinicius’s death squeeze. And, of course, she fell on her ass.

Groaning and cursing under her breath, she got up, ignored the gore, the warm blood dripping between her fingers, the bones hitting against her shins as she waded through the mess of white, and stopped beside Vinicius’s giant head.

“Open up.”

Vinicius turned his head enough to look up at her, and growl. Even that sounded gargled. Blood was getting into his stomach or lungs or both. Hell might not have cared about biology like that, about the specifics and stuff, but it certainly gave a shit about injuries and dying from them.

Vinicius did not open up. Instead, he tried to sit up using his two free hands, the other two still covering his throat and shoulder wounds. He got a whole three inches off the ground before collapsing.

“What’re you doing? I have a demon heart! Open your mouth!”

He glared at her, rumbled in his throat, and tried again. And failed again.

“Fucking christ, Vin! Is this some macho thing? Can’t eat if someone else is feeding you?” And before she knew what she was doing, she punched him, right in the cheek, above his big crocodile teeth and under his dragon eye. “You’re dying! Eat!”

All that got her was a glare. But a following coughing fit that had the dragon monster puking up blood onto his giant throat was enough to convince him. He opened his mouth.

She put the hunk of meat between his huge teeth. His dragon snout had giant sharp teeth like Kas’s, like a crocodile, sticking out past his lips. Good reason to yank her hand back so he didn’t snap down on that by accident; she doubted the leash would protect her from accidental biting.

Vin didn’t chew. The heart was small enough he swallowed it down, just like a crocodile would. Hopefully, he wouldn’t choke. Much as Mia wanted to watch and make sure he didn’t, it wasn’t like she could give him the Heimlich, and the way his huge neck flexed and bled as he swallowed forced her to look away. Seeing a corpse bleed was one thing. Seeing a living creature bleed as it ... he, tried to force down food, was another thing entirely.

Less than a month ago, watching an autopsy had her reeling, and she’d already become a ghost by then. Say one thing for Hell, it definitely desensitized you quick.

Once Vinicius stopped making a half swallowing, half choking sound, she checked on him again.

“Okay, still breathing. That’s good. Just focus on breathing and healing.”

He focused his eyes on her, a strange intensity that looked animalistic, like a wounded, starving creature. But there was something else there, too. He was aware, awake, and thinking. Which just made everything more horrible as he choked on his own blood.

She got back to work. If Zel’s heart had barely been enough to stave off the giant monster’s hunger, one gargoyle’s heart wasn’t going to do much. She got her hands around the giant black sword’s grip, and dragged it over to the other gargoyle. This one had been ripped to pieces, but her chest was in good condition.

Mia took some deep breaths, did her best to ignore the smell of blood saturating the air, the feel of her sweat and blood dripping down her quickly exhausting body, and again swung the sword over her shoulder like she was flipping someone. It crashed into the gargoyle’s bare chest, right between the breasts, and broke bones but didn’t get through. She had to swing it twice. Thrice.

“I was just ... a normal girl, you know?” she said, panting as she worked. Talking was good. Talking helped keep her mind off what she was doing. “I mean, yeah, sure, unusually high sex drive, but I just figured that was normal ... for ... gingers!” She yanked the heart free deadlift style, but this time kept from ass-planting on the ground. “Then I go to Hell and suddenly I’m broadcasting a weird aura that gets all demons nearby me randy as fuck. Okay, strange, right?” She wiped her forehead of sweat, almost screamed with frustration as she only realized she’d just wiped a bunch of blood across her forehead, and marched back over to Vinicius. “For a bit there, I thought maybe I was some sort of succubus reborn, when I learned about all this sin talk. But that doesn’t seem to be the case, does it?” She held the heart over Vin’s mouth and held his strange gaze.