Hell’s Consort

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The Empress Luna

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"The hunter hunts."

Luna became more hypersensitive to the touches and sounds around her.

Staying quiet as she held her breath, she strained to hear the voice in her head. 

Glancing around at the masks in front of her, Luna wondered if what she heard was from one of the Hell's Monarchs or was it exclusively in her mind. 

She squinted at them, but it was difficult to determine who spoke because the voice in her head had been detached, disembodied, and devoid of emotion. 

Luna didn't know if it was a man or a woman—a passing thought, more like—but she was sure it was one of them and she just couldn't prove it since they had worn the full-faced white masks which hadn't shown if their lips were moving.

Groaning in disappointment, she knew it was futile, so she gave up. 

As she did a double-take squinting on the masks, her hair had lifted on her nape and arms when she had noticed that the grotesque masks were made of layers of peeled human skin hanging off it like it was there for aesthetic purposes.

Luna had fought low-level demons.

She had also experience being the presence of three Archdemons without extreme fear—probably because two of them were Luna's husbands and she had a soul thread with them—but these creatures in front of her who watched her, unmoving, was another story.

She had never felt so exposed.

Despite being shut in a glass case, Luna could feel all of their potent power, and she couldn't help but think that her soul had become dirty, just by mere association and exposure.

Their darkest black aura had reeked with immense wickedness.

She wrinkled her nose as she heaved, her sick stomach threatening to spill her guts out.

All eyes were on her, and they didn't even need to utter a single word to freak her out. 

They can examine her to their heart's content, figuring out flaws and weaknesses while they remained hidden.

It made her feel defenceless, for she had no magic in her arsenal, and their malicious gazes made her skin crawl.

She had thought of the mask she had worn that felt empowering, marvellous and fun at the Masquerade Ball as the new Empress. 

Was that 'who' still within her?

  They were so uncannily still similar to a crocodile which had its mouth open, biding for the time until their prey let their guard down and fall through their jaws and then, they would swoop in for the kill and eat them alive.

They were the predators that honoured their prey with a precise and skilful hunt.

The hunter revered the soul it aimed to take because that was their mission.

"The hunter hunts." It repeated, followed by a deep, dark chuckle with an overlapping high pitched female laugh which made her hold back a cry as her legs and knees went weak. "To return on empty-handed would be to fail, which is not an option in the hunter's eye."

It was a warning.

Limbs shaking, Luna squirmed out of the transparent glass case trapping her and the more she moved, the more the glass pressed closer into confinement. 

  She had never heard something that sounded so evil.

Perhaps, it was the High Priestess who had been messing with her mind.

Lilith had attacked her earlier with a thin black needle on her forehead which could contain evil incantations that would poison her thoughts, making her imagine crazy things until all she desired to die.

Luna clenched her fists in utter determination.

Of course, she wouldn't let that demoness prevail because Luna wouldn't let Lilith claim her body and pretend that she was Apollyon's wife.

Luna would take her power back. 

She ignored the disembodied voice talking nonsense in her mind and focused on the present.

There were six people seated on their throne—two older men Luna didn't recognize.

The old men had bushy white beards except for the fact that the other one had a bald head.

She recognized the Archdemon of Lust and Gluttony, and lastly, there was a woman positioned next to one of the older men.

The other older man had a shoulder-lengthed grey hair and a facial beard similar to the other man as a Cerberus rested its huge paws, its sharp claws retracted, on the man's lap.

He stroked the head of the tamed monster as if it was his pet.

The woman had a phoenix perched on one of her long horns.

Lilith was nowhere to be found.

She had probably studied her demonic spells, amending some of the incantations which suited her needs to make her soul possession a success the second time.

Luna had the urge to bite her nails in anxiety.

She was running out of time, and here she was, standing in front of these demonic royalties as if she was a freaky doll brought for their entertainment.

Hundreds of demonic servants surrounded the throne room—some of them crafted from their minions' souls from the upper realms--as they watched her with rapt attention.

They take the form of skeletons cloaked in dark robes, and their empty eye sockets were replaced with a red glow.

The way they moved clearly showed that they were directly controlled by one of the older men.

The older man with the balding head at the throne beside the woman–which Luna had assumed as the King of Hell—spoke with a cool precision as he stroked his grey beard thoughtfully. "Are you the lady, my son, had picked to be his wife?"

If an Archdemon killed her soul in Hell, where would she go?

Would it be heaven, or would she go back to Hell?

Luna didn't know what to respond, but she might also try to get killed by the Demon King.

Was this a risk she would be willing to take?

Perhaps, there would be a plot twist in there somewhere.

It might send her back to the Vampire Realm if she was fortunate.

"I don't know if there is a difference between being picked and being forced," Luns replied carefully without traces of tears, fainting, and panic. "Do you recognize them, Your Highness?"