Project Delilah

She woke up to the sound of someone begging for their life. 
“…My lord, did I not return to the ranks and prove myself to you?”
“Don’t ‘my lord’ me now. You know that I don’t tolerate deserters. I only took you back because we needed the extra power for the invasion but now that it’s over, you’re over,” Abaddon said succinctly, giving the signal to break the traitor’s leg. 
Delilah cringed, making a sound of disgust and horror as the unfortunate baron’s leg was broken at the knee then torn off, leaving a jagged stump that bled profusely as he was taken from Abaddon’s presence. She tried to cover her ears to muffle the agonized howls of the baron but the chains weren’t long enough. She looked at the floor underneath her and saw glowing symbols—she knew enough about Hell and demons to realize that she was on a sigil. 
As she looked around her, she saw more sigils, small replicas of the one she was on. The grisly condemnation of the baron had taken place in an open area, underneath stormy clouds of red and brown. On all of the sigils were offerings of raw flesh accompanied by clusters of candles and the respective baron’s head whose body had been sacrificed. 
She had the sudden urge to vomit, for a breeze blew the pungent odor of raw, bleeding flesh into her nostrils. Had the area been enclosed, the stench would have been unbearable. She put her nose to the ground, closing her eyes, trying to concentrate on not vomiting. She had deduced from what she had just seen that she was on Abaddon’s sigil and it would not be pretty if she threw up all over it. 
She heard heavy footsteps and felt the ground shake underneath her but she didn’t care. An enormous hand grabbed her hair and lifted her head, curved black claws digging into her scalp. 
“Remember me?” Abaddon asked sweetly, tilting his head to the side. 
But Delilah was having none of his cuteness. She forgot all about being sick and lashed out at him, almost pulling the chains from out of the ground. “Motherfucker, I’ll break your goddamn horns and shove them up your ass!!!” she screamed, spittle flying from her lips. 
Abaddon let go of her hair, laughing quietly. “Somebody wants to play,” he said in the same tone that he used to condemn traitors—it was soft, slightly mocking, and completely dangerous. He stepped back, a wry grin on his face, observing her as he settled back against the side of his throne. He crossed his arms over his chest, assuming a relaxed position. 
“So, what brings you to Hell?” he asked calmly, as though interviewing her for a job. 
“Don’t you think you should have asked me that yesterday, BEFORE YOU RAPED ME???!!!!” Delilah replied, shouting the last four words so that they echoed off the walls. 
Abaddon ran a finger on the inside curve of his left horn, then rubbed his fingers together like he was getting rid of dust. “I don’t have to ask you anything—I could have just had my way with you then left you for dead. I didn’t have to claim you for my own, that way a stinking mancubus could rut with you then you would be marked as belonging to the lower ranks. I also didn’t have to put you on my seal,” he motioned with his hand to the sigil that she was on, “that way, the legion that I command could spread you all over Hell. Now, if I’m done explaining myself to you, I would greatly appreciate an explanation from you, since you are, after all, in chains and my subject,” he spoke softly, alternating between stroking his goatee pensively or wiping imaginary dust off his horns. 
Delilah trembled when she heard him say that he commanded a legion of barons. She didn’t even want to know how many that was. She had thought that there was maybe only a handful of them.
“Well, like I said, I came here on accident… I escaped from Lazarus Labs, I found a portal in an office. I thought it would take me to Earth but it brought me here instead… I, um, I didn’t always look this way… I was supposed to be the prototype for an army under the control of Dr. Pierce…” Delilah hesitated about stating the reason why Dr. Pierce wanted her own army. 
“What do you know about your father?” Abaddon asked her suddenly, not caring about why Dr. Pierce had wanted an army of her own. He knew what had become of her. 
“Almost nothing. All I know is that he was a Marine. I’ve never seen him. I don’t even know his name… you’re looking at me the way that Dr. Pierce did when I told her the exact same thing…” she said cautiously, trembling beneath the tall demon’s intense gaze. 
“How am I looking at you, Delilah?” he asked quietly, using her name for the first time since she arrived in Hell. 
“Like I’m the key to something. But you don’t know what that something is.”