Asmodeus - Demon of Lust: Pt. 03

Turning back at my lover, frowning, I ask, "Where did that come from."

"Questions later love, I believe you requested clothing." He inclines his head toward the chest and lifts a hand in its direction.

I walk the remaining steps and stop in front of the chest, acutely aware of the hot-blooded demon at my back. The chest is large and looks heavy; I doubt I will even be able to lift the lid. I run my fingers over the beautiful metal-work set in the stone and am reminded of the gorgeous bed-frame in the main cavern. I notice also, that the chest seems to be attached to the floor beneath, almost as if it has grown from the stone there. Suddenly I realize how the chest and bed came to be.

"You created this, didn't you?" I ask in awe. "You made this with your power, the one you used to melt the walls."

"Yes, dear one, anything you see in my domain is my will. Here, everything is as I wish it to be and now, I have willed this chest into creation. Open it; I am sure you will find clothing in there to your taste."

I open it - the lid isn't as heavy is it looks - and peek inside. Beautifully coloured shimmery material shines up at me; the chest is filled with silk dresses. I gently lift out the one nearest to the top. It's navy blue with a plunging neckline, flared skirts and a lace back. Running my fingers along the intricate patterns which make up the lace I am astonished to find that is made of finely spun silver. How the silver is attached to the silk, I have no idea but the effect is breath-taking.

"You made this?" Again I am astounded that something so utterly beautiful can come from the imagination of a demon.

"Of course, love. Art is chaotic and beautifully so. As such, all demons are artistic; did you not notice the art on the walls of my throne room?"

I shudder, thinking back to the bloody looking art on the walls.

"I remember. This is nothing like that though. Your art is in a class of its own."

"It pleases me that the clothing suits your taste. Try on as many as you like, I will allow you some time. I have other business to attend; however, I will send a herald to deliver you to me in one hour."

With that he turns to leave. This causes me to panic slightly, I am afraid to be here alone.

"Wait!" I cry, "Don't leave me! Who will help me pick the right one? I can't see how I look in them."

I add this seductively, swaying my hips toward him.

In response, he simply raises a clawed hand, curling his fingers inward and on the wall next to the chest, a large iron frame begins to grow from the rock. Delicate cracking and wind-chime sounds signal the addition of a large glass pane, again, growing out of nothing. A thin sheet of silver forms behind it; polished and reflective. Eventually we're left with a full length mirror set in an iron frame.

Like everything he makes, this is also a gorgeous work of art.

"This should suffice. Anything else you require shall present itself to you of its own accord." He says this with a curious glint in his eyes, almost as if he is testing a theory.

He leaves before I can protest again, sealing me in the new cave. When he is gone I feel cold; any happiness he brings me is slowly sapped away. Again I am trapped in a cave, alone and afraid.

Just one hour, I remind myself so that I avoid a panic attack. I have never been claustrophobic but I think I may have recently acquired the acute fear of closed spaces. To further distract myself I head back over to the chest, lifting the silk gowns out one by one, holding them in front of my body and admiring them through the mirror. All the dresses are beautiful but I decide to stick with the blue one I picked out first.

The back is tied together with silk ribbons and I undo them before stepping into the dress. As the silky material slides over my itchy legs, I suddenly have the immense urge to shower before wearing anything. I wouldn't want to sully such finery with my unwashed body.

Dropping the dress back into the chest I rest my hands on my naked hips, trying to think of a way to solve my dilemma. While I am thinking, visualizing a ravishing hot shower, I actually begin to hear the sound of running water, further into the cave, on my right.

Following the sound with cautious hope, I eventually stop at a small waterfall, about six feet high, the perfect makeshift shower. Anything I require shall present itself aye? Not bad.

The water is clear and falls gently in a small stream, just two feet wide. A small chasm has been formed underneath it to catch the water and a metal grated hole helps it drain away. The result is a rustic looking shower with surprisingly warm water cascading down from who knows where.

I step into it with relish, soaking my hair and loving the heated caress of the waterfall massaging my shoulders wonderfully. As soon as I wish it, a bar of earthy-scented soap appears in a rocky alcove in the wall. I wash away all my fear and tension, my mind so clear, as always, during my shower. Even at home, shower time has always been a time for me to think and reflect. It's hard to remember, given how content I am, that I am also essentially a prisoner in hell.

In hell. Why am I okay with this?

Even under the warm water, my body begins to shake. Goosebumps rise on my arms and a shiver creeps up my neck. Why am I here?

My breathing is uneven and tears spill, hot and heavy from my eyes. I can't stop the tears or the choking sobs which escape, speeding my breathing but not allowing me a full breath. My chest is tight, and my lungs scream for oxygen but try as I might to calm my hyper body down, my situation only gets worse. I swear it feels as if the ground itself is shaking. Hitching wails and stuttered breathing makes my body weak and I have to lower myself to the ground. Huddling in the corner of my unnatural shower, I tuck my legs in closer to my torso and stick my head between my knees.

I understand now what has happened. Unable to fight against what is happening to me and trapped here against my will, my fight or flight reflex has been warring within me all this time, finally imploding and causing the mother of all panic attacks. If I don't calm down soon, I know; I will black out.

Breathe, Selena.

My breath is still hitching slightly but eventually I manage to calm down. This doesn't help my situation much though, I'm still trapped here and I want to go home.

How could I not see this before? What was I thinking? Did I truly believe that I would stay here with a demon for the rest of my life? What about my family? My sister, my brother, my parents; were they waking up now to find me missing?

As this fresh thought assaults me a river of tears flow freely over my cheeks; surging past my lips and dripping off my jaw line, until it mixes with the hellish water and is sucked with it into oblivion. Like the water and tears being drained away, I feel my emotions spiral out of control.

Not for the first time I find myself wondering how I could have possibly been at ease with a demon all this time. The answer presents itself swiftly as I remember the power of Asmodeus' heated stare. In my panic last night, it was his gaze alone which subdued me, crumbling my defences against his other power. It is his other power, his pure magnetism, which had actually led me to believe that I could love a beast. This attraction I feel for him is more dangerous than the mind control he first used on me. It is not that he's actually forcing me to love him; it's the irrevocable certainty of my attraction to him. Whether he is aware of this power or not is unclear to me but I do know now that just being near him makes me forget where I am.

Here, away from his gaze and over-whelming presence, my mind feels clear and sharp. A question which has been shackled under his impenetrable aura breaks free and taunts me once more. How do I escape?