L J Baker [Baker - Sloth

Sloth

Seven Deadly Sins

Book 4

LJ Baker

2018 LJ Baker

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"Life is a challenge" he once told me,

"and only those who rise to the challenge

truly know what it means to live."

Darren Shan

CHAPTER ONE

It was dark, maybe too dark for what Harley guessed was close to dawn, but that was fine by her. It was the quiet time where she had a few minutes of peace in both her mind, and body. Soon Michael would return, or he would send in one of his minions to work her over again. Michael preferred to let his minions do the torturing. It would be a total shame to get Harley's blood on his pretty shoes. Clearly, they had no idea what a demon could withstand.

And Harley was no ordinary demon.

It hadn't been an easy few days, or had it been longer? She'd lost track of the time. Only the ticking of the clock kept her grounded. Tick, tick, tick . She set her focus on that sound. Through blood dripping in her eyes, pain that dragged unwanted screams from her traitor mouth, and the smell of her own burning flesh, the sound of that damned clock was the only thing that kept her going.

Lucifer would find her, or he wouldn't. One way or another, she would get the hell out of that place. Even if it was only by death. She'd been through worse in her human life. Or it had felt worse, because she wasn't as strong back then. Michael and his band of asshat demons couldn't break her.

Harley was a survivor.

"Taking a nap?" The voice cut through her peaceful moment and grated on her last nerve. If she had even just her hands free, she'd show that bastard what a permanent nap felt like.

"Yeah, why don't you undo these cuffs so I can stretch a bit?" Harley dug her nails into the cracked leather of the chair that she was bound to and waited for Michael to come closer.

"Oh little demon, tsk tsk tsk. You must take me for someone with the intelligence of Lucifer." Michael circled her chair, running his hand through her matted hair, catching his fingers in the knots, and making a sound of disgust.

If he'd been in front of her, she'd have spit on him. Not that it would have helped, but it was about as much as she could manage at that moment, and it would have pissed him off. So that was something.

"You can't stand the fact that he's better than you, can you?" she asked, spitting blood on the concrete floor by her feet.

"Better than me?" Michael laughed.

"You're daddy's little suck-up. Never thinking for yourself, never living your own life, and never stacking up to your brother, no matter how hard you try." Harley struggled in the chair, moving herself just enough to stop him from groping her hair.

"My father has nothing to do with what's going on right now. You should stop listening to Lucifer. He lies. This is the Michael show now, demon."

Harley laughed. "Lucifer doesn't need to lie to make himself feel important. He also doesn't need to stage break-ins, and muck around trying to steal things that don't belong to him."

"I won't be playing this little game with you. Tell me what I need to know and I can end your pathetic existence."

"What is it again that you want?"

"You know what I want." Michael gritted his teeth, but kept his cool.

A shimmer of light bounced off the shiny metal of the knife Michael held in one hand as the first hints of sunlight peered over the top of the high windows. Harley recognized the decorative blade right away. She had one very similar, forged by the same smith. It would kill her easily, though slowly, and painfully. One slit to an artery, quick and deadly, would be all it took to start the process. She would bleed out over the course of a day, writhing in agony the whole time. Nonlethal cuts would hurt just as bad, but without the whole end of existence thing.

There would be no returning to Hell. No purgatory. She would cease to exist for good. No take backs, no passing go, no second chances. Harley swallowed hard, a flutter of nerves flowed over her in a quick wave, but she pushed them back. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If this was to be her last day, then so be it. It wouldn't end with Michael getting what he wanted.

Before Harley could steal herself against the inevitable, Michael whipped the blade across her thigh, cutting deep into the muscle, causing her to scream out from the misery of it. The blade could not only take her life, but any nonlethal cut was the kind of torturous pain that one couldn't even begin to imagine.

"How do I get into the safe?"

"What safe?" Harley asked through gritted teeth.

Before Harley could take another breath, Michael brought the blade down on her shoulder, tearing into the soft flesh with searing hot pain. She held back the scream that time, refusing to give him the satisfaction on sheer will alone. Lucifer would have been proud of her. How much more she could put up with was another story.

"Lucifer has something I want and I always get what I want."

"Funny," Harley croaked out. "So does Lucifer."

"Not this time." Michael's grip on the knife tightened. Harley could see his knuckles turn white in the growing daylight.

"What do you need me for?"

This had been the first time since she'd been there that Michael had gotten his hands dirty. He'd left the messy work up to his minions, who'd failed miserably. He must have been getting desperate to risk getting blood splatters on his perfectly pressed, white shirt. It also meant that whether or not she told him what he wanted to know, her time was running out.

"You've been Lucifer's little pet for a long time now. I'm sure if anyone knows how to access the contents of that safe, it's you. So you can talk now, maybe save yourself a little extra pain, or I can kill you, and eventually find out what I need to know anyway. Lucifer may have you, but I have beings much more powerful than little girl demons." Michael grabbed a handful of Harley's hair to pull her head back as far as her neck would allow. With one quick slice, he cut through her hair, letting the tangled mess fall to the floor.

"Dude, do you know how long that took to grow?" Harley jumped in her chair, lifting the legs off the floor, and brought it down onto Michael's foot. One quick groan, and he flicked his wrist, sending her, and the chair she was still attached to, flying across the room.

"Next time it will be your throat." Michael walked closer and squatted down to look Harley in the eyes. "Now, how do I get into that safe?"

That was it. She saw it in his eyes. He was done playing games with her. It didn't matter that she had no clue how to open Lucifer's safe. Hell, until recently, she hadn't even known what was in it, or that a Hell Tablet even existed. To be honest though, even if she had known, she wouldn't have told Michael. Not even to save her life.

"First, you cut off your own dick, then you shove it up your ass, then"

Before she could finish, Michael stood, swung his leg back, and kicked her full on in the face, sending her head back, and filling her vision with stars. It hurt like a motherfucker, but Harley could take it all day. It was that gleaming metal in his hand that she knew would be the end of her.

There would be a few moments reprieve though, because one of the minions, the skinny one with tight, curly hair, interrupted with a note. Michael read it, crumbled it into his hand, and stormed away. Whatever it was, he wasn't happy. It was enough to make Harley smile. It was the little joys in life that mattered.