An unspeakable stench hit my senses so I looked up at the
small, barred window in the door. Before I saw him, I knew
who it was. The Demon Prince leered at me, gobbets of flesh
dropping from his lips as he chewed furiously. Without his
helmet, his hair was a writhing mass of grave-worms but his
eyes still cast that paralysing gloom that would make a mortal
walk straight into his deadly embrace.
He didn’t speak but just stared at me. .He licked his
lips salaciously, like a gourmet facing a banquet until I was in
no doubt of what was intended for me. The unblinking gaze
was unnerving and it was almost a relief when he spoke.
“The last time we met, warlock, you were playing at being
an exorcist. Did that teach you nothing?” His voice was
mocking, dripping with contempt and loathing and he used
that word “warlock”, foresworn, outcast, and untouchable. It
still had the power to wound and enrage me..
“It was no game. I beat you. We beat you.” I could hardly
speak for the dryness in my throat but he was willing me to
talk and I was unable to resist.
“So what did you learn about us from studying them? Are
you now wise, Iamo?” He said my name softly, almost lovingly
which sent chills down my spine.
“You were the tormentors of Hell. Unsaved souls were
yours to do with as you wished.” I could not help but reply.
Great Goddess, but I would have to learn to resist his taunts!
“And the punishment always fitted the sin, did it not,
Brother?” He paused then a great bellow of laughter came
from him that shook the cell and filled it with his foul breath.
“So imagine what punishment I can mete out to a fornicator!
Your sin with the Black bitch was great …so meditate on how
severe your chastisement will be.”
With that he left and I prayed. Prayed harder than I had ever done in my life.