Page 2

Ohhh, that’s right.

Dave’s head spun up.

Princes of Hell. He’d somehow heard that right. His new reality not only included Hell, and demons with annoyingly high-pitched voices taking residence in his head, and scorched hands, and scratched skin, and ruined clothes. It also included a hierarchical version of Hell with Princes in it.

To be fair, he hadn’t paid too much attention in church camp, but he was pretty sure the Princes of Hell weren’t known for their kindness.

He was not going to last a day, was he?

The thought gave him conflicted emotions. He didn’t think he wanted to die—given he wasn’t already dead, because there was no way he could wrap his head around the fact that he was here—but… Did he want to live in… Hell? Where he may or may not be a demon’s type, and other demons would be chiming in his head, non-stop?

Maybe if push came to shove, he could lunge toward the burning bars. The idea made him recoil, but it should kill him, right? If he pressed himself hard enough?

Or he could piss off that Melchom guy enough to make his death quick. That had to be a thing, right?

Should we tell him?

Will you shut the fuck up?

“No.” Hearing his voice resonate against the walls shocked his system for a second. His throat sounded too scratchy, the way he imagined it would sound if he’d just been rescued from a fire. Clearing his throat probably wouldn’t help, but he tried anyway. “What should I know? Tell me.”

Dave wasn’t sure if the voices would pick up on the false note of bravado or if it would make a difference. He’d lived most of his life by the motto of fake it till you make it, though. He didn’t see why that would have to change now.

Melchom feeds on fear. He won’t kill you right away.

“He what?” Dave murmured.

It shouldn’t shock him after all the new information he’d been gathering in the last… hour—hours?—but it left him shivering.

He hasn’t had a gift in so long, I’m sure he’ll want to enjoy you.

Dave trembled. The way the demonic voice said that made it sound bad.

Nope.

Not going there.

“What’s a gift?”

That would be more important—and maybe a safer topic. Maybe it would answer one of the main questions circling through his brain: why the fuck he was suddenly stuck in a prison cell in Hell.

Cassius, stop!

But he’s finally talking to us!

Melchom is going to punish you if he finds out.

Why would he find out?

“Guys!” Doubt nagged at the back of his head.

Why did the voices sound so much like the kids he worked with at the daycare?

Dave frowned. Perhaps it actually was a hallucination, and he was losing his mind. If he tried to ignore what his body was telling him with the smells and the burned flesh… Him losing his mind was the most logical explanation.

It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

So, maybe that was how he should look at it. He was still at the seance with Jordan and Jordan’s boyfriend’s friends. Or maybe they’d moved somewhere else, but Jordan would’ve told the others about his episodes, so he’d be… safe wherever he was, right?