Chapter 2
The Devil walked into the chamber, his bare feet making no sound against the cold, obsidian floor. The air around him was thick, suffocating, charged with something far worse than anger. His expression was unreadable, but his crimson eyes burned with something terrifyingly focused.
The chained souls barely dared to breathe.
He stood in front of them, silent.
Waiting.
Watching.
Then, he spoke.
"Whose brilliant idea was it to attack the person I love?"
Nothing.
No response. No begging. No excuses. Just terrified, panicked glances darting between one another.
The Devil exhaled slowly. "Alright." He started to move, circling them, his sharp claws trailing lightly across their shoulders, their arms, their necks. A slow reminder of just how fragile they were in his grasp.
A choked breath. A tremble.
Then, the first crack in the silence.
"It was Reed!"
Emerald's voice.
She flinched as soon as the words left her mouth, as if afraid they alone would seal her fate.
Then, two other voices, desperate, betraying.
"She’s right… it was Reed."
Danny’s parents.
And then Kevin, his head lowered, his fists clenched. "Yeah. Him."
The Devil stopped moving.
His red eyes landed on Reed Richards.
Johnny Storm stiffened, his whole body tensing as if preparing to throw himself between them. "No—wait—"
Too late.
The Devil moved like lightning.
His claws sank deep into Susan Storm’s chest.
A sound unlike anything human ripped through the chamber as her soul was forcibly pulled from her body. She convulsed violently, her hands clawing at his wrist, her body twitching, trying—failing—to resist.
It was agonizingly slow.
Johnny and Reed screamed her name.
She could still hear them.
The Devil tilted his head, his claws flexing, twisting deeper into her very essence.
Her soul shimmered weakly, struggling, terrified.
And then—he smiled.
"I can’t wait to see the regret on everyone’s face when you realize what you just did."
Then, in front of Reed, in front of Johnny, in front of everyone—
He devoured Susan’s soul.
Then—nothing.
Johnny collapsed, his breath shaky, broken.
Reed just stood there. Empty. Silent.
The Devil turned away, his tail flicking lazily as he left them drowning in the consequences of their actions.
The air in Hell was thick with silence. The once-proud prisoners—criminals, heroes, warriors, and masterminds—now hung in their chains, broken by what they had witnessed.
Johnny Storm sat against the cold stone wall, staring at the empty space where his sister had once been. His hands shook as he clenched his fists. “If they had just kept their damn mouths shut…” His voice cracked. “She’d still be here.”
Kevin groaned, leaning against his chains. “Man, it’s pointless. The Devil would’ve found out eventually.” He wasn’t even trying to sound comforting. Just stating the truth. “That bastard always knows.”
Reed hadn’t spoken a word. He was frozen, hands limp in his shackles, his mind replaying the moment over and over—the agonizing way Susan’s soul was ripped from her body, how Devil savored her suffering. And the way he had locked eyes with Reed when he swallowed her soul, mocking him with every second.
He had led them into this. It had been his idea to attack Dice. And for that, he had lost the only person he could never replace.
Johnny’s flames flared briefly, his grief bubbling into rage. “If I had just fought harder, if I had done something—”
Reed finally spoke, his voice hollow. “She’s gone.” That was all he could say.
But the pain was just beginning.
The air in Devil’s chambers was thick—heavy, suffocating with the scent of fire, smoke, and something more dangerous. Something primal. Dice was resting on the lavish bed, golden sheets against his white skin. His breath was steady and deep, his body still recovering from the brutal beating he had endured. He was better now—stronger—but not strong enough to break those damned souls himself.
Not yet.
Devil, standing beside the bed, wiped the last traces of blood from Dice’s face, his sharp claws gentler than one would expect from a creature as cruel as him. "You're almost back to normal," Devil murmured, his voice carrying an edge of possessiveness, of relief.
Dice smirked weakly, propping himself up on his elbows. "Almost?" His voice was hoarse but teasing. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me, sweetheart."
Devil chuckled lowly, dragging his claw down Dice’s cheek—not to wound, but to remind. "You know I was," he admitted, his voice dipping into something more dangerous. "And you know I don’t like when the people I love get hurt."
The words sent a shiver down Dice’s spine. He didn’t get a chance to respond before Devil tilted his chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
Then, Devil smirked. "I have a little something for you."
Dice raised a brow, watching as Devil materialized something in his palm. A small, glowing wisp—faintly golden, flickering like the last embers of a dying flame. Susan’s soul.
Dice’s smirk widened, his green eyes gleaming with intrigue. "You’re really just handing it over?"
Devil hummed, getting closer. "No," he purred, leaning down, his lips barely ghosting over Dice’s. "I’m offering you a taste."
Dice’s breath hitched as Devil closed the distance. The kiss started slow, almost mocking in its gentleness. Then, the second Susan’s soul passed from Devil’s lips to Dice’s, the taste hit him—warm, electric, bursting with something painfully human. Sweet, but with an underlying bitterness, a taste of regret, desperation, loss.
Dice moaned into the kiss, and that was all the permission Devil needed.
The moment escalated—fast. Dice clutched onto Devil’s fluffy shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper, as if trying to drown in the intoxicating mix of power and sin. Devil groaned, his claws digging into Dice’s waist, claiming, owning the moment. Their bodies pressed together, heat coiling between them, a storm of something neither of them were willing to name.
Outside the chamber, the souls heard everything.
They couldn’t see, but the sounds—the moans, the sharp intakes of breath, the growls of satisfaction—painted a far more vivid picture than their broken minds could handle.
Johnny Storm clenched his jaw, his fists trembling.
Emerald averted her eyes, her face red.
Kevin groaned, rubbing his temples. "Man, this is the worst punishment of all."
But it was Johnny who broke first. His voice was hollow, filled with self-loathing as he muttered, "If Emerald and Kevin had just kept their damn mouths shut… Susan would still be here."
Kevin scoffed bitterly. "What’s the point? The Devil would’ve found out anyway."
The weight of Susan’s loss settled over them like a suffocating fog. And yet, beyond their grief, beyond their fear—was resentment. Because even in Hell, even after all they had suffered, The Devil still had something they didn’t.
Love.
And that was the most painful torment of all.