Fallen Spire (ePub)

"The world has chosen me, Demy," Deliah squeezed Demy's face between his hands, "Now, tell me, where is Joshua?"
Demy tried to squirm away, but Deliah only held tighter, digging his claws into Demy's cheeks all the way to bone.
"I don't know!" Demy spat at the former Secretary, more blood than saliva.
Deliah's amber eyes flashed hotly. He scrutinized Demy's face, looking for signs of deception or another bone to break. Finally, Deliah released his grip. Fresh blood pulsed out of the new holes, and then streamed down Demy's cheeks.
Deliah stood and composed himself, placing his hands behind his back, "Demy, I've decided that your soul is irredeemable." Demy was propped up against the couch, weakly holding his hand to the hole in his chest. Satisfied, Deliah turned and walked to the exit.
At the door, Deliah turned around, "The world has chosen me... to unmake it." Demy offered no response. Deliah continued, "When there is no heart at the center of your choices, no expression, no desire to expand your soul, you wither and become nothing. I never turn away a lost soul at my door, no matter how poisoned, no matter how weak. I accept their offers. The deals are cheap. For a pittance in comfort and material accommodations, I claim something endless."
"Let me show you what becomes of your soul when you don't take care of it." Deliah opened the door, revealing a hallway full of demons. They shuffled around quietly, heads bowed, waiting to be commanded. They were grey-skinned, hairless, slavering beasts with imposing fangs and claws.
Deliah bowed his head to the demons and they rose up. They looked at Demy with hunger and hatred and stalked into the room. One demon let out a fierce howling cry, an atonal, high-pitched, gear-grinding whine.
Demy closed his eyes and wished he could close his ears so that he wouldn't hear himself screaming.