Chapter Three -- Gadreel

Chapter - Gadreel

The obsidian walls shimmered, a living pulse of darkness that mirrored the throbbing behind Benzosia's eyelids. Her vision swam into focus, revealing a chamber of infernal opulence – midnight silk draped a colossal bed, the canopy swaying with unseen currents, and silver-gold threads wove through the sheets, glinting like trapped starlight. A chill, deeper than any she’d known in the celestial realms, settled in her bones.

“Ah, the Queen graces us with her awakening,” a voice purred, rich and smooth, like honey laced with venom.

"Queen?" The word escaped her lips, a hoarse whisper. Memories flickered, fragmented like shattered glass – the fall, the darkness, the shattering realization. I did it. A wave of grief, sharp and cold, pierced her. Her wings, once radiant, were now destined for a slow, agonizing decay. Her divine light slowly dimming.

She shifted beneath the silken sheets, the fabric cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache in her muscles. A groan escaped her, a raw sound of protest against the lingering pain. Attempting to sit, a wave of dizziness crashed over her, forcing her back onto the plush pillows. Every inch of me feels broken.

“Welcome to the Nessus, my Queen.” The mattress dipped, and a hand, warm and firm, began to massage her legs beneath the covers. The unexpected touch jolted her awake, but the easing tension was a siren song to her aching body.

He was beautiful, disturbingly so. Wispy platinum hair, pale as moonlight, framed eyes of icy blue – a mockery of her heavenly kin. But this was no angel. He radiated sin, a carnal energy that coiled around her like a serpent, a testament to the dark beauty that thrived in this realm. 

"Water and honey," he murmured, nodding towards a gilded tray. She sniffed the proffered glass, then drank deeply, the sweet liquid a balm against her burning throat. It eased the throbbing in her temples, clearing the fog in her mind.

“Who are you?” Her voice was a rasp.

“I am Basileus.” A bashful smile flickered across his lips. “The King has entrusted me with your care, as I am the only one in his harem not of the Lillim.”

"Harem?" The word ripped through her, lodging in her throat. “Why?”

“I do not feed off sexual energy, as an Incubus or Succubus would.” His lips tightened, a subtle tension in his posture.

"Oh." She pulled her leg away, self-consciously tugging the covers higher. “I meant… what harem?”

“The King’s harem, my Queen. An honored position in Nessus. His attendants are well-protected within the horrors of Hell.” He tapped a large ruby nestled between his collarbones, the only jewel on a thick gold necklace-collar.

Harem. The word echoed in her mind, a cold, sharp blade. Am I not a wife, but a queen amongst concubines?.

"Basileus, please take me to the King."

Surely he had an explanation, a reason for keeping a collection of lovers when he had promised his heart to her alone.

"The King has other priorities."

A new voice, cold and sharp, cut through the air. From the shadows, a figure emerged, his presence radiating a chilling authority.

“Gadreel? Is that you?” His golden hair and icy blue eyes were familiar, though the celestial light had long since been extinguished.

“Welcome to Hell, Benzosia.”

The air thickened, his presence a suffocating weight.

“Gadreel, it's been centuries since I last saw you!. Why are you here?”

“I am the King’s Herald. I give voice to his will.”

Herald. The King’s closest confidant, his voice, his power. He has replaced me with a harem, and a herald.

“Has my husband lost the ability to speak for himself?” Indignation flared, a desperate attempt to mask the fear.

“Your husband is the Infernal King—your King. You will see him when you are summoned.” Disdain dripped from his words.

“He may be my King,” she retorted, “but I am not your Queen?.”

“Do you wish for me to acknowledge you as the Infernal Queen?” A sneer twisted his features.

“Yes.”

“As you command, your Highness.” His compliance was too swift, a trap sprung without warning. “Then let us proceed with the royal protocol.”

Shadows stirred, and grotesque figures emerged – hooded shapes and elegantly dressed demons, their eyes gleaming with infernal light.

“I am not ready for visitors. I will bathe and dress, then attend the court.”

“It is the needs of the King you should concern yourself with.” Gadreel stepped closer, his presence a suffocating pressure.

Basileus placed himself between them. “Lord Herald, this was her Highness’s first time, please be gentle...”

“Ah, right.” Gadreel’s sneer deepened. “When the King spills his precious seed, I must ensure it takes root in fertile soil.”

Her mind caught up with the conversation taking place around her. Examine my body?. “Touch me,” she warned, her voice trembling, “and I’ll kick in your jaw.”

“We both know I could never force you, Benzosia. However, refusing the examination will nullify your claim to the position of Infernal Queen. It’s in the marriage contract.”

“What?, why?” Why would Asmodeus demand this of her?

 “The King must have an heir.” Baselius gently stroked through the tangles of her hair.

“Give Asmodeus an heir, or become just another discarded concubine.” Gadreel's demand made her wedding vow sound like a transaction rather than an act of love.

Resentment coiled in her gut. “If my King commands this, I shall comply. But you will leave my chamber.”

“Alas, I must remain to bear witness. He trusts no one but me.”

How dare he?

“Allow me to serve her Highness,” a robed woman said, stepping forward. Basileus moved behind Benzosia, his chest warm against her back, his arms a gentle, yet firm, cage.

“It will be over soon, my Queen,” he murmured.

“Ease down, your Majesty, and spread your legs.”

Her throat tightened. The covers were pulled back, leaving her exposed to the predatory gazes. A flash of metal caught her eye – intimidating instruments laid out beside her.

“What are those for?” Fear clawed at her.

“Just relax.”

A sharp pain ripped through her. A choked cry escaped her. Please stop.

The weight of their stares was a brand, searing her soul. She clung to consciousness, her body no longer her own.

Darkness shrouded days bled into weeks bled in. Each day, the same cold, metallic instruments, the same predatory eyes, the same violation that ripped through her like a jagged blade. Each night spend in Asmodeus's arms, her word silence by lovemaking that with each passing night grew more violent, more demanding.

Depressed, the demoness in charge of her medical care had called it. A clinical term for the shattered fragments of her soul. They were breaking her bit by bit, taking everything- her light, her happiness, her love.

Her body, a canvas of bruises and phantom pains, felt alien. Her mind, a swirling vortex of horror, clung to the last vestiges of sanity. The obsidian mirror, a constant, mocking presence, reflected a stranger – hollow eyes, a ghost of her former self. Azadiel… where are you?

She touched the cold obsidian, the surface still slick with the residue of her torment. A smear of crimson, a stark reminder. He’s abandoned me. The thought, a venomous whisper, coiled around her heart. Asmodeus, her husband, her king, had left her to this – a gilded cage, a harem, a herald who delighted in her degradation.

He no longer loves me.

The mirror rippled, the black surface dissolving into a swirling abyss. An icy wind, laced with the scent of sulfur and something ancient, something wrong, whipped through the chamber. Fear, sharp and primal, warred with a desperate, flickering hope.

Portals.

The realization struck her with the force of a physical blow. All this time, trapped in this opulent prison, escape had been within reach, staring back at her from every polished surface. He knew. They all knew. A wave of nausea, a mix of horror and a twisted, bitter triumph, washed over her.

“Your Highness.” Gadreel’s voice, cold and sharp, sliced through the swirling wind. Urgency, thinly veiled beneath his usual veneer of icy control, vibrated in the air. He knows.

She stood there, frozen, her hand hovering over the swirling darkness. The wind whispered promises of escape, of freedom from the relentless torment. But the Infernal Hells were a labyrinth of treachery, a place where even shadows held secrets. This could be a trap, a cruel jest orchestrated by the very man who had condemned her to this hell.

“Benzosia…” Gadreel’s voice, closer now, laced with a chilling undercurrent. He’s coming.

Panic, raw and visceral, surged through her, drowning out reason, logic, everything but the desperate need to escape. With a surge of adrenaline, fueled by weeks of suppressed rage and despair, she plunged through the mirror’s surface.

The cold glass yielded like water, swallowing her whole. The world dissolved into a dizzying vortex of inky blackness, a chaotic swirl of fragmented images and distorted sounds. Then, just as suddenly, the chaos snapped into sharp focus.

The oppressive opulence of the Malsheem vanished, replaced by a stark, desolate landscape. She stood on the frost-covered steps of a colossal palace, its icy spires piercing the twilight sky. The air was a biting, frigid caress, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the Infernal Hells. Where am I?

A shiver, deeper than any physical cold, wracked her body. This place radiated a chilling power, an ancient, malevolent energy that seeped into her bones. The silence was deafening, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind.

She looked back at the mirror, the swirling black surface now a solid, impenetrable wall of ice. He can’t follow. A flicker of desperate hope ignited within her, a fragile flame in the face of overwhelming darkness.

The palace before her was a monument to frozen grandeur, its walls shimmering with an ethereal, glacial light. The air thrummed with a subtle, almost imperceptible energy, a sense of ancient power that both intrigued and terrified her.

A name whispered through her mind, a forgotten legend, a realm of ice and shadows, ruled by a being of chilling beauty and terrifying power. A place where even the demons of Hell feared to tread. I am in Stygia.