15. Sable

Chapter fifteen

Sable

Early Morning Christmas Day

L isten. Feel. Remember. The answers you seek are within.

Death is your gift.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

My eyes fly open to an unfamiliar world. I turn slowly and take in the sights surrounding me. The horizon blazes with fire, distant screams piercing the air like twisted carols. Horrifying screeches from creatures that can’t be human, blend in with the screams. The leaves on the trees glow a ghostly green, illuminated by an orange light that flickers like embers, forever smoldering but never bursting into flame—like the glowing tip of a cigarette. Beneath my bare feet, the ground radiates an intense heat that sears my skin, yet no sweat forms. Candy canes, soaked in blood, hang from the branches like grotesque ornaments. I wish I could decorate my home with them. This place is horrifying—and the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“Here.”

I whip my head toward the sound of a voice just feet away and find myself face-to-face with my small friend. Her hand is outstretched, offering a cherry lollipop. My mouth waters as I fixate on the candy, all hesitation dissolving in a heartbeat. Without a second thought, I reach out and take the sucker from her. “Thanks. Where are we?” My voice echoes on the dry, crackling wind, the words hollow and distant, as if carried away by something otherworldly.

“We’re in Hell, silly. Merry Christmas, Sable. I decorated the place with your favorite treats. Do you like it?” The familiar sweetness of her voice remains, yet something about it feels warped, as though this place has tainted even the sound of her words.

I suck in a shaky breath. If I’m in Hell, then that means… I’m dead. The realization hits hard, and with a sharp yelp, I grab my forehead as memories flood back in a relentless wave—every twisted, nightmarish detail of my childhood. My parents. The cult. My almost-sacrifice. The abuse. My mother—the woman dressed in white that saved me. Will stabbing me, and—Nik. Oh god, where is he? The thought of him hits me like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath from my lungs, my heart pounding as I scan the burning horizon for any trace of him.

“He’s not here, child.” I nervously place the lollipop in my mouth and stare at my friend.

I pull the candy out with a loud pop, as anxiety spikes in my heart. I can’t be here alone, he said he wouldn’t ever leave me. “We need to save him! Will stabbed me… and then so did Daddy. He’s trapped in some kind of demonic sigil. Please, we must hurry!”

I lift my foot to begin walking toward the girl when she flicks her wrist, causing me to stand in place, still as a statue. She holds her wrist behind her back, and begins pacing around me. “Do you not wonder how your mother was able to save you the day she aided in your escape?”

As I open my mouth to speak, my hand moves of its own accord, shoving the candy back between my lips. A frustrated hum escapes me, but despite the annoyance, I can’t help but savor the sweetness of the lollipop.

Still pacing around me, my friend giggles. “I’ve been observing you for some time, Sable Ashcroft. Ever since your family began meddling in The Saint’s affairs and found a way to escape his wrath, I watched them closely. I accepted their humble sacrifices, of course. How could I refuse such an offering—a soul so pure, destined for the height of the Heavens, only to fall so low into my grasp? Their light, meant to bask in eternal peace, now condemned to an eternity of torment.”

I clench my fist at my side, my teeth grinding on the lollipop’s stick. The small child walks behind me, out of view, and what walks back in front of me makes me scream in fury. I ache to lunge forward and shove this hard candy down their throat—my father, Lionel Ashcroft, now standing before me.

“Your father, oh, what a wicked thing he is.” This thing uses my father’s voice, deep and laced with venom. “His soul is so far beyond redemption. If he weren’t human, I’d have guessed he never had a soul to begin with. But you all have souls—delectable, sweet things they are. His sacrifices were once my favorite offerings… until the day I learned of his betrayal.”

I tilt my head, ensuring I don’t miss a single word spilling from this creature’s mouth.

“Lionel thought he could outsmart the Devil. Ha! Humans are not very bright.” The man wearing my father’s skin laughs mockingly. “Your dear father thinks he can force a demon into submission and force the world to submit to him. Bow to him. Obey him. Earth is the Devil’s playground, my child, not some meek humans’, even though they like to believe otherwise.” He steps forward so close I can feel his warm breath on my face, the scent of sulfur thick in the air. “No one fucks with me or my children and gets away with it. Niklaus is my demon, my subordinate, who brings me souls to populate the realm. A demon is not meant for a leash, and your father will soon learn the repercussions of thinking he can do so.”

The man’s figure shifts again, shrinking lower in height, until I stare at my own reflection before me. I admire her candy cane curls—damn, I did a good job with my hair. A smile warps my lips as she pulls the candy from my lips and then places it in her mouth, sucking on it slowly and taking it back out to continue speaking. “The day your father failed to complete your sacrifice to me, I knew you were special. Just one glance into your tainted mind, one whiff of your twisted soul, and I understood what your new purpose would be. Your mother is just like you, you know. I spoke to her. Called to her. Just as I’ve been doing with you. On the day you were to be executed by your rapists, Jack and Thomas, I whispered to her, instructing her on how to save you. She placed an incantation over your wounds, sealing it with an omen. That omen is your gift—death. On the day of your permanent death, you will rise again as something new, something to be feared among the masses—death itself.”

I search her eyes, my own eyes, frantically. Fire lights behind the glacial blue irises when she begins cackling. She flicks her wrist, and I stumble slightly on my feet as my movement is regained. “I don’t understand what that means. I didn’t get it when my Mom said it, and I still don’t get it when you say it now. Also, who the hell even are you?” I rasp out, my throat dry from being unable to swallow.

“The Devil always provides for his favored children.” She recites those same damning words that I’ve heard before.

Realization crashes over me like the weight of a million pieces of candy toppling over my head. “You’re… the Devil?” I take a step back. Although He has done nothing to prove that he’s going to harm me, it’s still the fucking King of Hell. “Are you referring to me as your child? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I already have a Dad, and honestly, between the two of you, I’m not sure which one is worse.”

My mirror self claps her hands together, a shout of glee escaping her lips. “Niklaus is my favored child, and you are his prize—his reaper. That is what you are, Sable, what you will become with just the snap of my fingers. Do you want it?” She leans in as she asks the last question, her voice a serpent’s whisper that slithers into my mind, overwhelming my senses with its seductive promise.

I cross my arms with a pout and scoff. “What if I refuse? What does any of this even mean? It’s like you’re speaking in hieroglyphics.”

Lucifer raises their mirage eyebrow with a smirk. “If you refuse, you will remain here, never allowed to return to Earth or see Niklaus again. Accept, and all shall be revealed soon enough.” Her smile twists, warping into something monstrous. Razor-sharp teeth replace her once-human canines, and her jaw stretches unnaturally wide to accommodate the grotesque fangs. Her face starts to melt, skin dripping like wax under a flame, as though she were being incinerated before my eyes. The sight is both horrifying and mesmerizing, but I avert my eyes away from the horror before me because I need to make a deal with the Devil.

I have to get back to Nik—my demon. I can’t leave him behind, he wouldn’t have left me behind. And mother… she’s still trapped at the asylum. But I don’t fucking understand what death being my gift really means. Oh well, the things you do for the ones you love. It’s time to discover what this all leads to, the Devil’s grand design. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I accept death as my gift.”

His laughter grows into a deep, booming baritone that fills the skies, shaking the very ground beneath us. The earth trembles violently as his feminine fingers eerily similar to my own—rise before my face. “Bring me souls, reaper,” he commands. With a snap of those delicate fingers, my body is hurled into the sky at jet-like speed. The world around me blurs as I soar past the fiery skyline, and just before I’m pulled away, I cast one final look at Hell. Then, I slam into my physical body on Earth.

My body feels like it’s been dragged up from the icy depths of a frozen-over lake as a cold shock vibrates through my veins, kick-starting my heart. My lungs heave like I’ve been suffocating on my own blood and are now full of precious oxygen. I feel my body lift off the floor by a phantom touch, hoisting my limp body mid-air as something new—something ancient—courses through my body. It’s reshaping me, remaking me into something untouched, as every cell in my body is reconstructed.

My chest tightens, and my eyes shoot open. It’s not pain I feel—it’s power. My soul thrums with a new purpose, a new morbid harmony, directing me down my correct path. I feel the dark energy swirling around inside me, cold yet alive, as my body becomes something greater and darker—death incarnate. My vision sharpens, and every muscle hums with unimaginable strength.

I am no longer human. I am a servant of the Devil—I am a reaper, and my gift is death.

My fingers tingle, aching for something—an object meant only for me. Slowly, I lift my hands to my face, and in my palms, a shimmering glow crackles from the air itself. The solid shaft of my new, prized possession materializes before my eyes. My feet touch the ground, light as a feather, as I gaze upon the weapon in awe. My scythe. Its shaft stretches taller than my entire body, wrapped in swirling red and white stripes, the colors of a twisted candy cane. The half-moon blade gleams, large and wickedly sharp—designed to cut through multiple bodies in a single, effortless sweep. What a beautiful sight to behold.

A giggle escapes my lips, unbidden, as I feel the raw power thrumming beneath my skin, electrifying me. Hellfire ignites within, setting my entire being ablaze with energy. My focus sharpens, zeroing in on my surroundings. I’m still in my old bedroom, but I was too absorbed in my transformation to notice the booming chorus reverberating through the room. Three hooded figures stand side by side, their heads tilted toward the ceiling as they chant, their voices thick with a cryptic, ancient verse. Shouts and demonic growls rumble from the space before them, filling the air with a sense of dread. My heart seizes, a cold chill rushing through me, as if it’s stopped beating once again.

As I raise my scythe high, the air grows cold, thick with the weight of impending death. An icy chill slithers down my spine, and I know—death has entered the room. I hear Nik’s shouts just a few steps away, but the hooded fools are blocking my view. My grip tightens around the shaft of my scythe, and a dark smile curls my lips. I guess I’ll have to make them move. With fucking pleasure.

I begin singing the lyrics to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” thinking it might grab the attention of the cult freaks, but they just keep chanting away, ignoring me like I’m just a bothersome gnat. With clenched teeth, I keep singing my favorite childhood song—it is Christmas, after all. If my gift is to be death, then I’ll be glad to deliver it to the people who ruined my entire life and wanted me dead. With one swift swing, my scythe slices through the air as effortlessly as a blade through butter.

The chanting cuts off, instantly replaced by choking and sputtering as they try to continue spewing their bullshit spell—whatever the hell that was. Nik’s heavy breathing and grunts of pain become sharper, but I wait—I’m not going to reveal myself to the real soul I yearn to claim for Lucifer tonight.

“Why’d you stop? It was almost fucking complete!” Lionel’s voice is laced with malice as he shouts at his men. Silence passes for a beat. “What the hell is wrong with all of you idiots?”

I keep singing the Christmas tune, now a haunting lullaby, as I put my victims to sleep. “What’s with the damn song?” Lionel pushes the shoulder of one hooded man, and the top half of his body slides from his bottom half slowly, landing on the floor with a sickening splat—intestines sprawling out on the floor. The other two follow suit, their severed torsos falling to the floor, painting it in beautiful crimson.

Three souls to Satan. One more to go, and his rot smells so damn sweet, I can taste it on my tongue.

Lionel meets my darkened gaze, my smile radiating the presence of death. “H-h-how? I killed you! No! This is all f-fucking wrong!” He harshly pushes his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair while he stammers over his words—a dumbfounded look plastered on his face.

“Hi, Daddy,” I purr, my voice dripping with a sickly sweetness. Without hesitation, I lunge at him, scythe drawn back, my movements fluid and swift. In one brutal motion, I drive the blade forward, slamming it into his groin. Lionel’s scream pierces the air, his eyes bulging with horror and pain, fixated on me with pure terror. The sight is delicious, his fear fueling my power. “Lionel Ashcroft, you are marked for death. Your soul is bound to burn in Hell for eternity,” I declare, my voice steady and filled with venom. “I look forward to playing with you some more when I visit. Fuck you for everything.” With a vicious grin, I slice upward, my scythe cutting cleanly through flesh and bone, stopping just below his collarbones. Lionel wheezes, his mouth agape, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh, and Merry Christmas!” I add with a cheerful lilt before bringing the blade up in one final strike. My scythe cuts effortlessly through his body, splitting him in two from groin to skull. The sound of bone snapping and muscle tearing fills the room, and then there’s nothing but my heavy breathing as I gaze down at my beautiful demon’s red eyes, blazing with raw emotion.

The freshly cut halves split away from each other and fall to the floor as blood splatters over me and Nik. He stares at me in awe. “Cherise,” he rasps.

I pop my hip and smirk. “Sable,” I correct. I lift my scythe, slam the blade’s tip into the floor, and shred the wood containing the sigil that binds him.

With a choked gasp, he drops to kneel before me with his head bowed. “Reaper.” I scoff at his over-the-top gesture, place two fingers under his chin, and lift his eyes back to mine.

He startles me when he suddenly jumps up and crashes his lips against mine. The kiss begins softly, like he’s afraid he might break me. I let my scythe clatter to the floor, the sound fading into the background, and I bring my hands to his face, pulling him closer. I deepen the kiss, pouring every ounce of need and longing into it—I need to feel him everywhere. The warmth of his body envelops me, grounding me in this moment, and I lose myself in him.

He presses his forehead to mine and releases a trembling breath like he’s going to cry. Do demons cry? I cup his cheeks, gliding my thumbs across his bloodstained skin. “I thought I—” Another drawn-out breath, “I thought I lost you,” he whispers.

“You’ll never lose me. Not now, not ever, Nik.” I kiss him again, and he groans against my lips. He kisses me hungrily, greedily, like he would die if he ever stopped kissing me.

But then he does stop… again. “There’s so much I thought I couldn’t tell you. There’s still so much I need to say to you.” He begins rambling on and acting as if I was just going to drop dead for no reason. Silly demon. “I guess I could have found you in Hell but—”

“Nik!” I cut him off with a laugh because if I didn’t, I fear he’d never get to the point. “What do—”

“I love you!” he blurts out, the words spilling from his lips in a rush. He gasps at his sudden admission, his eyes wide with shock as if he can’t quite believe what he’s just said. “And don’t you ever fucking die on me like that again,” he grumbles, his gaze flicking away, embarrassment creeping into his features. There’s a fierce protectiveness in his voice, a raw intensity that pulls at my heartstrings, and emotions flood into me that I haven’t felt in so long—emotions that I now only feel when I’m with Nik. My demon.

A lump forms in my throat, and finally, the dam breaks. For the first time in over a year, tears pour down my cheeks. It starts with one tear then cascades into a torrential downpour—each drop a release of the pain that’s built up over ten years of torture, abuse, and pure fucking loneliness. I drop to my knees, sobbing with all my might, the weight of my past crashing down around me.

In this moment, I’m finally free. The man who’s haunted my dreams, masquerading as The Saint in my mind for all those years, is now dead. I did that. It’s finally over. Yet here I am, with Nik confessing his love to me, and I find myself lost in how to process it all. I’m sure the feeling is mutual, but the sensation is foreign to me—an emotion I’ve never fully understood. I have a funny feeling he might be just as lost.

What I do know is this: wherever this road to Hell leads us, I want to walk it by his side for all of eternity—the reaper and her demon.

Nik kneels on the floor with me and wipes the tears from my soaked skin. “I’ll admit this was not the reaction I was expecting after admitting that,” he says with a breathy laugh.

“I love you, too,” I whisper.

I feel something wet against my cheek, something that isn’t my tears. Nik’s forked tongue flicks out again, dragging along my flesh, lapping up my salty blubbering. “No more tears, little reaper,” he murmurs, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Although they taste delicious, I need to devour you another way.” His gaze darkens, sending a shiver down my spine.

“My,” he growls, slamming his lips onto mine with a fierce intensity, bruising yet electrifying. His tongue slithers into my mouth, dancing with mine, igniting a fire that consumes us both. He fists my hair, pulling my head back forcefully, and the mix of pain and pleasure sends my heart racing. “Fucking.” He swiftly slashes his claws down the front of my dress, and I jump at the sudden action. “Reaper.” In one fluid motion, he rips the remaining material from my body, leaving me exposed. He grabs my hips, lifting me effortlessly into the air as he lies back, then sets me down so I’m straddling his head.

“Nik,” I say with a sultry moan. “In front of my father?” I giggle maniacally.

“Fuck that piece of shit,” he growls, his voice low and fierce as he tears away my lace underwear. I look down at him, my breath catching as I see the desire blazing in his eyes, filled with a primal lust. It’s all for me, only for me. “I’m going to worship this pussy like I’m in Heaven,” he declares, flicking out his tongue and licking slowly along the full length of my slit. My jaw drops, and I moan softly while I run my fingers through my hair. “I will make you scream for me while we’re on Earth, and I’m going to fuck you until every last fire is extinguished from Hell.” His promise hangs in the air, thick with heat and anticipation. My muscles spasm from his words alone, and my core drips with liquid desire.

He pulls my clit between his lips, sucking fiercely and flicking his tongue out so fast I can hardly catch my breath. “Fuck!” I cry out; the overwhelming sensation feels euphoric. I grind my hips, fucking his mouth and chasing the release that’s building rapidly in my core.

He growls against my sensitive flesh, gripping my thighs with bruising possession. My orgasm is already reaching its peak, and I grind my hips faster. I stare around the massacre surrounding us with a dark laugh, then look down at my monster, his eyes trained on me as he devours my pussy. The sight alone almost makes me tip over the edge, before he pushes forward and flips me on my back.

“I was so close, Nik!” I cry out.

He unbuckles his pants and jerks out his monstrous cock, rock solid and ready for me, with precum glistening on the tip. “If I don’t bury myself inside of your soaking wet cunt right now, I’m going to explode, little reaper.”

He crawls on top of me in a rush, his urgency palpable as he grabs the back of my head, pulling my lips to his. With a heated intensity, Nik reaches down, lining his tip with my entrance before slowly pushing inside me. We both moan against each other’s lips, the sound escalating as he sinks deeper. “I love you, reaper. Always,” he whispers, a smile playing against my lips, but then his expression shifts. “But this might hurt.” In a swift, powerful motion, he slams to the hilt, and the sensation overwhelms me—an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that sends shockwaves through my body. My breath catches, and the world around us fades, leaving only the two of us lost in this moment.

My eyes roll back as a strangled moan escapes my lips. His cock pounds into me, each thrust powerful and desperate as if he’s ravenous for every inch of me. Desire builds quickly, eclipsing the initial pain and transforming it into pure ecstasy. Nik’s clawed fingers wrap around my neck, a fierce grip that feels almost possessive, creating the perfect necklace to accentuate my lack of clothes. Our two bodies intertwined into one sinfully beautiful masterpiece.

“Make me come, demon,” I choke out, a smile warping my lips.

Nik never ceases his relentless thrusts, and with a devilish smirk, his tongue spills from his mouth, slithering toward my stimulated bundle of nerves. Fuck, I love that he can do that. His tongue glides over my clit with perfect precision, each flick synchronized with the way he fills me completely every time he grinds into me.

My muscles clamp down around his length, the intensity of our connection overwhelming, and I cry out as my release crashes over me like a volcanic eruption, explosive and all-consuming. My body becomes a sweaty mess, legs shaking uncontrollably from the force of the orgasm ripping through me. Not long after, he joins me, a deep growl emanating from the depths of Hell as he spills his seed deep inside me—sealing our connection with one final, powerful thrust of his hips.

He sits back on his heels, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Let’s go, baby. There’s someone I want you to meet. Christmas is nearly over, so let’s get out of this room filled with misery, and go start our lives.” He extends his hand toward me, offering it with an inviting gesture.

I place my hand in his with a sultry smile. “Maybe we can find more souls to harvest!”

“Oh, we definitely will be doing plenty of that, little reaper.”