Free Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci

Darius immediately waved him forward, to the front of the rows .  On his back, Baal carried a large package wrapped in heavy-duty plastic.  He set it on the ground with a thump and the bag wiggled.  He unzipped the long zipper that ran lengthwise down the package and yanked its contents into view. 
    “Ah!” the man groaned once he was out, but was promptly thrown back to the ground.  Baal raised a fist and the man immediately shielded himself.  “No! Please don’t!  Darius, my lord, I didn’t mean to.  It won’t happen again, I swear!”
    “No, it won’t,” Darius replied coolly. 
    With a sweep of Darius’ hand, the man lifted off the ground and floated, hovering for a moment, before careening across the tunnel into the far wall.  As soon as his body hit the curved barrier, Darius held him there, immobile. 
    “Please, my lord,” the man pleaded, his voice trembling and cracking.  “I beg of you to spare me.”
    But Darius ignored his pleas.  “This is Beau,” he boomed, his voice ringing through the cavernous hollow.  “He didn’t listen when he was told not to pursue his own agendas, to settle old scores.  He felt the need to go and murder his wife and put our objective in jeopardy.”
    Murmurs of disapproval were muttered among the demons. 
    “I never meant to—” Beau began.
    “Silence!” Desmond be llowed.  “When you are killed,” he addressed Beau directly, “you will not return to Gehenna the same. You will not enjoy the rank you once held.  You will return to eternal suffering, never able to leave again; never able to end the indescribable pain you will endure.  It will be everlasting.”
    “No, my lord, please don’t kill me,” Beau begged.
    Darius had grown tired of his sniveling.  Such blubbering was unbecoming a member of his army, a soldier.  “I’m not going to kill you, Beau,” he said and made a clucking sound with his tongue. 
    “Oh thank you!” Beau said, his relief plain.  “I won’t let you down again.”
    “Baal, take care of my friend.  Get him down from there,” he motioned absently. 
    Needing no other prompt, Baal advanced to where Beau was positioned, pinned to the wall.  He balled a massive hand and punched Beau in the chest.  The gut-wrenching sound of bones splintering caused devilish delight to tiptoe down the length of Darius’ spine.  But the thrill did not end with one punch.  Baal struck Beau again and again all about his body, shattering his arms, his pelvis and his legs, every bone in his body.  Tortured screams tore from Beau, frenzying Baal as he began hammering the insubordinate serial killer’s skull.  The first of many blows silenced the cries, and ended Beau’s earthly agony.  But all present knew the real agony had yet to begin.
    Silence dominated and nervous shifting ensued. 
    “Does everyone understand now the consequences of disobeying me?” Darius asked.
    Nodding heads bobbed in understanding.
    “There is only one among you permitted to carry out a deed begun when he walke d this realm alive,” Darius said and pointed to a cloaked figure.  “You, come forward,” he said.
    The cloaked figure acquiesced and stepped from the shadows, pulling his hood from his head.  Beneath the hood, he was monstrously disfigured.  Deeply pitted flesh in shades of brown, pink, gray and angry red spread out in a horrific network and covered his entire face.  His skin was puckered and charred, his features completely consumed by burns.  His lipless mouth remained in a perpetual snarl and his ears seemed to have melted to his skull.  He stooped to genuflect, and while most would have recoiled in fear, Darius moved closer, enthralled by the being before him. 
    “Howard Kane, you are to take a small group of your choosing and begin your hunt once again.  You are to hunt down Arianna Rose, the Sola, and kill her.”
    At mention of the Sola’s name, Kane glowered with sunken, slate-colored eyes that had neither eyelashes