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'Please, God, if you're really there, if you can hear me, help us. Help him.'

Kaitlyn felt foolish. Prayers had never helped. No matter what Jacob believed, God wasn't here and He never helped her.

'Jacob.'

His name felt good in her mouth. It no longer hurt. Despite the precarious situation she was in, warmth surged in Kaitlyn's chest. He wasn't dead. He was alive! And he was so close.

Kaitlyn sat up on the edge of the bed. She looked around and raced over to her cabinet, pulling out a shirt and pair of shorts before hurrying over to the door. She had to find him! She had to get to him! What if Satan was hurting him again?

She ripped open the door and jerked back with a gasp. The corridor was gone. Instead, she was faced with a wall of volcanic rock. Desperately she pushed at it with her hands but it was as solid as it looked.

Satan had locked her in.

'No!'

She turned and raced over to the window, only to stop in her tracks. The view onto hell was gone, replaced with more rock.

'Damn you!' she screamed.

She dragged her fingers down her face as furious tears swelled in her eyes. It had been a long time since she'd felt so angry, not since she'd lost her parents. Hatred for Satan sat like a lump of lead in her belly. And yet that very same hatred made her chest ache. Hate me as you should. I do not blame you. He'd held her tightly after he'd saved her from the burning fires.

'He only did it because he needs me,' she tried to convince herself. But she knew that wasn't the truth. As perverted and toxic as their relationship was, he loved her. She could tell.

And as much as she hated him, she loved him too.

'You're such a loser,' she groaned, clutching at her head in despair.

She clawed her nails into her scalp as frustrated tears rolled down her cheeks. She was so hot she was sweating in her shirt and her arms were shaking. What was he going to do? Leave her trapped in here forever?

She looked around the room, her tear-filled eyes falling upon the little table in the corner. As usual, it was laden with food. Gritting her teeth, Kaitlyn walked over. She lifted the cloche off a large plate, revealing a steaming slab of steak.

Kaitlyn picked up the plate and with a shout tossed it across the room. Another plate followed, slamming into the wall with an ear-ringing smash! A third plate followed. Then a jug. Cutlery flung like little arrows. There was a bowl left. She was about to pick it up, when she staggered. She got her balance back, only to stagger again as the floor dipped and wobbled. It felt like an earthquake. The walls were shuddering. The smashed plates were rattling.

Kaitlyn turned with a gasp at the sound of a crash. Rubble sprayed across the floor. It was a huge chunk of rock. She looked up and saw that it had fallen from the ceiling. Her eyes widened as a large crack began to rip its way up through the wall. She raced to the bed, sliding under its heavy marble frame as more rocks fell.

What was happening?

What better way to display my hatred than the roaring flames? Each day it burns hotter. Each day I get angrier.

And Kaitlyn knew: this was because of Satan—and he was angry.

Gritting her teeth, Kaitlyn closed her eyes, listening as the room demolished itself. She let out a shriek when a rock smashed right next to the bed.

'Fuck!' Kaitlyn turned her head with a wince as something thudded heavily onto the bed. It turned dark—all the torches snuffed out.

It seemed like hours before the floor stopped moving and the walls stopped shuddering. Thankfully, the marble bed had held up. Tentatively, Kaitlyn slid her way out. Rocks skittered as she stood shakily to her feet.

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