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“So you're Abbie?” The demon's voice is soft and lilting. It has a definite feminine quality to it, as does the demon's shape, twisted and distorted though it is. "I've heard so much about you."
Bela simply stares at the demon. She's terrified, has been terrified ever since she heard the first howl of the hellhounds, but she'll be damned if she shows it. More damned than she already is. She made the deal, now she'll face the consequences. Besides, she has a feeling the demon would enjoy her fear and she refuses to give it the satisfaction.
The demon's horrific face twists into the semblance of smile, a predator's grin full of razor-sharp teeth. “They told me you had guts,” it says. “Looks like they were right. Never hurts to make sure, though.” It raises its hand, revealing what looks like the ultimate instrument of torture: a combination of knives, hooks, razors and tongs. The demon regards it pensively for a moment, before turning its black eyes on Bela again. “Actually,” it says, “I take it back. It'll probably hurt a lot.”
Unable to contain her fear any longer, Bela lets out a terrified moan. Then she screams.
The torture seems endless. The demon tears her apart, piece by agonising piece, cutting and piercing and shredding and mangling. It leaves her throat for last, obviously wanting to hear her scream. Bela prays for oblivion, for release, for any form of respite from the suffering. Naturally, her prayers are ignored. Her life has long since taught her that there is no Heaven, no God, and even if there were, he wouldn't give a fuck about her. No one ever has.
The demon continues its work until nothing of Bela remains except her agony. Then it puts away its tools and takes a step back, as if to admire its work. Nodding in satisfaction, it grins another of those horrible grins. Then it leaves and the healing begins. Bit by bit, Bela is put back together. The pain lessens as she once again grows whole. But she knows it is only temporary. This is Hell. Her suffering will never be over.
Sure enough, the demon returns as soon as the healing is complete. This time, Bela doesn't bother trying to hide her terror. This seems to please the demon. It runs a clawed finger down Bela's cheek in an almost affectionate manner, cutting it open, then leans down to lap at the blood. Bela shudders within her restraints, partly in fear and partly in revulsion.
“Gorgeous,” the demon whispers, “and delicious. I could just eat you up.” It licks its blackened lips lasciviously. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Bela doesn't even have time to panic at the idea of being eaten alive before the demon starts ripping her apart again. While it performs its gruesome work, it whispers to Bela, telling her how beautiful she is. It compliments her selfishness, her sense of survival, her philosophy of self-preservation at any cost. Every detail of her life is known to the demon and it twists them all into a picture of decadence, of egotism, of greed. It tells her what a horrible person she was while she lived and how sexy that is.
The demon takes every dark thought that Bela has ever had about herself, every feeling of self-loathing, and makes them out to be the essence not only of her being, but also of her beauty. All her good deeds are entirely forgotten or dismissed as unimportant or scoffed at as pathetic. Just as the demon rips apart the physical manifestation of her soul, it completely tears down her sense of self. Then, as her physical being is once again made whole, her self-image is rebuilt and reformed.
Bela is aware that she is changing, but she takes no notice. She's in too much pain to care. It happens so slowly, so gradually that it feels almost natural. The demon's words, which she previously recognised as only half-truths or outright lies, begin to ring true. She begins to believe in them. In the demon's black eyes, she sees herself reflected and she sees how disfigured she is, but also how beautiful. No one has ever made her feel so beautiful.
Finally, the offer is made. The demon tells her that it will take her off the rack if she agrees to torture others. Bela doesn't hesitate. She wants it. Not only to end her own pain, but to inflict it on others. She wants them to suffer as she has suffered. The demon seems proud. It makes her its apprentice. From the very first incision she makes into the screaming soul of her first victim, Bela knows that there is no turning back. Her transformation is not yet complete, but it is unstoppable. Her demon mistress, whom she now knows as Meg, stands beside her, teaching her the tricks to cause the most agony.
After what feels like an eternity, she is allowed to return to Earth. Meg comes with her. The bodies they possess belong to two young girls, nubile but inexperienced. They find a room and lure a man inside, only to kill him. Against their own inclinations, they make his death quick and silent, not wanting to draw attention to themselves just yet. They paint each other's bodies with his blood, before falling into bed together. The night is spent exploring the border between pain and pleasure, discovering the darkest forms of perversion. When morning comes, they leave their hosts behind, too mutilated to be of any more use.
As black clouds they travel across the blue sky, interweaving and entwining, until they are more like one being of mingled malice and lust. And for the first time in her whole existence, Bela is free of both fear and pain.