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had once been a luscious ready-to-sex-up woman, there was now bodies of other Plate Faces. And where the fuck did those come from?

“What the hell?” He shouted, coming forward. He ignored the dead bodies he was stepping on, focusing simply on the panic that took over.

Death stood, pressing a smirking Plate Face to the wall, his thin throat getting swallowed up in the black man’s grip.

Thanatos glared, actually glared, down to the Demon. And if Sin wasn’t so pissed himself, he’d be shocked.

This was the most emotion the big man had shown since he stopped screaming after he Fell.

“Where the fuck is Sophie?” Sin demanded, finally making it to the being’s side. He asked in English and then again in the clicking language.

“We tell not.” The shit-freezer, dick-faced, ass-wipe said, his large eyes glassy with pain.

Sin wanted to deck the bastard, wanted to punch Thane too! He was supposed to protect her! He was supposed to make sure that nothing happened. Instead he had
 what? Run into the fight and left her be taken?

He was going to have to kick Thane’s ass for this! How could she be gone before he even got to have sex with her?

He felt a clawing feeling, something mean and desperate. He had no freaking clue what it was but he was sure going to do something about it.

“Listen here you fuck-wit. You will tell us what we want, or we will take you apart slowly!” Sure, some of it wasn’t clicks, but the message was the same. And he would carry it out!

His voice echoed off the hard stones around him, through the empty tunnels. He wanted to shout, to run, to do something to get her back NOW before something could happen to her.

“Put it in the practice room. We will get this information.” He said, hearing determination in his own voice. He would do whatever it took, including using the rope that he had hoped to use with her on this gross being. It was basically sacrilegious but he’d do it.

Apparently Thane felt the same way because the behemoth lifted the scrawny Demon by the neck and carried him into the room that they had been in previously. The room that they were training Phie in.

If only you taught her something useful. The voice in his head mocked, feeding on his guilt and unhappiness.

It was like acid, festering and building, bringing his anger and fear along until it was a big knot of pain taking up most of the space inside.

But for some reason, he didn’t want it. Why, you liked that feeling before.

It didn’t matter if this was different. He was not going to think about it. He needed answers first.

Then he could analyze the shit out of himself if he wanted to.

Once Thane was inside, Sin followed him, pushing the stone back into place over the door. It wasn’t the most restrictive thing, wasn’t the most foolproof but he dared for someone to come in. At least then he’d get to do something about the growing restlessness.

Getting the rope that he had left there not too long ago, Sin advanced on the Demon. “Tell us and we won’t dismember you.” There was no words for ‘take you apart’ or ‘wish you could finally kiss your ass goodbye while we rip you a new one’ so he’d stick to general terms.

Although maybe he should have gotten creative, because the being didn’t seem to care. He just slumped into the wall as they started tying him up like thanksgiving’s turkey.

And just like a turkey, they were going to shove something up its ass and roast him until his juices started flowing. He preferred if those juices were the greenish blood of its kind, but tears would be acceptable too. Hell, who knew if Plate Faces had tear ducts.

Sin planned to wring him until there was nothing left but answers, then he would take his time as he cut away its flesh so it would die slowly. Yepp, that’d show the fucker to hold out when they questioned it!

Sin wasn’t going to warn, wasn’t going to posture or threaten anymore. The thing had no caring, and really, he didn’t expect any less.

These low-violent shit-faces were messengers of Hell, and they only gave the information to whom they were supposed to give it to. But, he wasn’t above trying. This part of Hell branched into too many corridors to follow.

They needed some information to go on.

Sin wiped one of his blades on the idiot’s skin. He wanted to be slow and methodological but he had no time.

And you are too impatient!

Oh sure, he was impatient. He didn’t have to wait for things, but this instance he wished he had the time!

He put that knife away only to use second one to cut the thing’s arm. The Demon hissed, but didn’t say anything. Not that he expected him to. He was just warming up.

This wasn’t his strong suit, torture, but he liked it as much as the next sadistic freak.

With its hands and feet hogtied, it was difficult to get to some of the best parts—the fingers and toes—but he could start somewhere else maybe.

Sin dropped his curved knife and pulled out a thin straight double edged blade. He mostly had it for when he went into the real world. They didn’t like exposed knives there.

Now, he used it to insert into the Demon’s side, using the flat of the blade to work its way under the skin, but not too deep. It wouldn’t do to kill it, not when they needed information.

The monster cried out, but didn’t say anything as he shifted the knife down, making the opening larger. He’d seen it on a cooking show once, it was how they put butter under the skin of turkeys. The

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