A Small Sacrifice

She grunted, sitting up in the bed. She wanted clothes. Glen had told her the day before he'd brought her clothes but she couldn't remember where he said they were and with her limited amount of strength she worried she'd get tired looking. Her best bet was to make it to the dresser in the corner of the room and quickly look for ANYTHING she could pull on. The last two days she'd been naked. The bra she'd thrown on one day was off the next after Mark took her into the bath to wash. She half believed the shower had just been his way of making sure he could sleep naked with her but they hadn't been having sex and was a little confused as to why not. Glen had mentioned once Mark was doing her the favor of letting her rest up but she was still upset.

Slowly she'd been eating more and spent more time awake. The night before she'd been awake long enough to enjoy being curled up next to Mark, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She hated herself for wanting him in the darkness of the room. She wasn't supposed to want the person who had pretty much killed her and brought her down for what she assumed was being a sex toy. Yet anytime he touched her she instantly felt better, anytime she kissed him she wanted more, anytime he left she felt alone.

Glen, oddly enough had become one of the most interesting people to talk to, not that she'd talked to anyone else. He'd apologized for scaring her as he did, assuring her that it really just went with the territory.

"I do what I'm told."

"You kill innocent people."

He hadn't argued back but only responded, "What makes them innocent?"

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor cold.

"Look," she said aloud to Elka who looked at her interested, "I know what you are thinking. You're thinking I'm going to fall again. But I won't. I'm feeling better just watch."

Pushing herself off the bed she took a couple steps and though she almost lost balance, she made it to the dresser, smiling at the event. "Sweet deal. Tigger you see them apples?"

The puppy she'd named Tigger bounced off the bed, walking over to the cabinet, interested in what she was doing. She pulled open the top drawer, finding bras and underwear lined up. "Yes! Thank you Glen," she said, grabbing a pair of blue underwear, a bra, and closed the drawer. Unfortunately, the rest of the drawers held no hope and she grunted at the last drawer, filled with black and white shirts. She grabbed the first black shirt she found and discovered it was long sleeves, sort of like an old sweater shirt she used to own. She used to wear it to school if she'd been up all night writing a paper and didn't feel like getting dressed up or to bed. She decided that would do. She knew there was no way in hell she was going to be able to fit into anything else in Mark's drawers and grunted, closing them all before looking at the door as she dressed herself, leaning against the dresser with her free hand when at all possible.

"I have to do this you two. No fucking way I'll make it stuck inside here another day. My eternity can NOT be spent in here naked. I don't give two rat shits what Mark has me here for. I won't be like those others he had. I'm not weak. Watch."

She used the wall to lead her to the door, opening it slowly incase someone heard her. Instantly, she had a thought that she could very well attempt to escape. It wouldn't be impossible unless she got caught but Mark's voice somewhere in the house was enough to push it out of her mind. The hallway was dark. She passed 2 or 3 doors until she got to the stairwell and started her best not to trip as she walked down them. The odd thing about wherever she was, she assumed hell, was that it was always dark. She counted days by Mark's sleeping pattern and meals but sometimes she had a feeling some of her "days" went by faster than others.

Michelle made it, feeling a little triumph inside. While some of the house was dark as hell, the living room was a little brighter, including the kitchen to the left. She wanted to explore the living room but through an open door to a porch in the kitchen, she could hear Mark and Glen's voices.

"She was a hell of a lot better today. Going to go see her?"

"Later," Mark said, "Gatta watch these fools. They are getting restless again, I think they sensed her."

"The wenches have been floating about the windows to the living room and the side of the house with your window. Think they saw her."

Mark let out a deep grunt and laugh, "Wouldn't surprise me if they smelled her. She's clean smelling, different than any of them smelled. She doesn't belong here." It was in that instant he stopped talking because Michelle was walking, slowly but walking, out the back door.

Glen turned to look at her, he'd been standing, leaning against a post of the porch. He smiled, reaching out a hand for her to grab as he'd seen her body give up before and he could see her legs growing weak. Soon enough she tripped forward and he caught her, helping her stand against the post, "Look at that, Princess Salt Rock made it down the stairs. You deserve an award of some sort."

"Where the hell are the clothes you said you got me? I had to put on this stupid shirt."

Mark huffed, annoyed that Glen had been the first person she'd walked to, "My shirt."

She looked at him, a little happy to have pushed a button, "Oh, pleasure seeing you here."

He wanted to smile as he read her mind, watching her toy with him, but he kept playing mad, "No one told you to leave your room. Didn't Glen tell you the dogs had to be with you?"

"The lazy mutts are upstairs and didn't follow. Great guard dogs you picked."

This was the most they'd spoken since their first bath days before and Glen was just interested in watching them flirt, though anyone else would think they were fighting had they not known what he could tell.

Michelle tightened her grip on the post, "I'm tired of being in that room anyhow. You brought me here to play, not keep me cooped up I thought."

He wanted to tell her keeping her cooped up would keep her safer than if she was out and about but she was already looking over the fields, her face in awe.

The sky was a bight red, the clouds darker than any thunder cloud she'd ever seen. The sun was orange, almost blood red as it seemed to mix into the sky. The fields were green but the people working them made her want to gag. They were dirty, screaming, yelling at one another, crying. Some yelling "Undertaker!" in a groan so loud and deadly it made her sick, almost made it hard to look at Mark.

He was reading her mind, a tad unnerved by her sudden anger towards him. He'd felt it in her every now and then but now that she was stronger, so was the anger in her. She looked at Glen, ignoring Mark, "What are they doing."

Mark answered before Glen could to piss her off and see a reaction, "Harvest for the demons of hell. Thanks to them you have food to eat though you are lucky we can tell when they curse the food or you'd may well be sick or dead. Well... you can't actually die."

"Duh, I am dead," she said shortly.

"No, not exactly. As long as you are fed and well down here, you are living in a dead body. Your heart doesn't beat but you are more alive than they could ever wish to be. The rules are different for us than them. And... well ain't no time to explain this to you right now. As for them, they can only go on feeling pain."

"You... torture them?"

"Well that's the working constantly, no food to eat, no water to drink," he said, tightning the grip on the handle of his whip. She didn't need to see his whip to understand, Glen's knife which he had in the hand not helping her was enough to understand the other kind of torture they were meant to do.

Out of the corner of her eye, in a shack a little past the garage she could see movement through a window. Slowly she saw two women, peaking their heads out the open doorway with a rickety wooden door barely on it's hinges. Michelle could tell when they'd been alive they must have been beautiful, far more beautiful then they were and instantly she knew, "The other ones...."

Almost at that exact moment they began to walk towards them, other eyes and faces poking from the window and doorway. Glen, without a word, pushed her with force towards Mark who was sitting in a big chair, Michelle could only assume was a dirty recliner. Mark instantly grabbed the bottom of the shirt, yanking her down into his lap and he let go of the whip, grabbing what seemed to be a silver shotgun from behind the chair, putting it on his lap. Mark pulled her tight, his voice rough in her ear, "You picked a mighty fine outfit to come outside in."

"I couldn't find clothes."

He grabbed her face, making him look him in his green eyes. She instantly wanted to kiss him, he could read her thoughts, but he didn't let her make a move forward, "Kid, do what you are told. Don't keep eye contact with those bitches. Don't say a fucking word to them. Don't... please do me this favor."

She wanted to ask more but almost instantly his face changed into the evil, dark one he'd used on her the first night she met him.

"T- T- Taker! 'Taker who is she?" Called the redhead, eyes a pale and dull green. Her skin was so dirty and stained Michelle knew if she ever looked she'd be tortured enough.

"None of your business you hunk of flesh, get back with the others."

"Oh 'Taker," began the blond, her blue eyes so dark and faded, "She's so tiny 'Taker, she can't do what I used to do for you. Forgive us 'Taker, all of us can make you so much happier than that one girl can."

Almost in that instant a sea of them began to exit the shack though realistically there were probably 20 something girls. Mark had to admit reading Michelle's mind in these moments was intriguing. She was jealous and yet sad all at once. Jealous because she could tell at some point they'd been far prettier than Michelle ever thought she could be. He wanted to hit her for that thought but there was no way he was going to do that now. The sadness in her was far greater, the human part of her believing these women couldn't have done anything to deserve this punishment.

Out of the corner of her eye she could sense Glen tensing up and the women took a couple steps closer as if to examine her, one of them speaking out in a shrill voice, "Oh 'Taker, get that little brat off you lap. She doesn't have anything we can't give you better!"

Finally, as Mark had feared, Michelle's jealousy got the best of her, "Look bitc- AH!" She bawled out loud, arching her back as Mark put pressure into her spine, grabbing a hold of her back roughly. ASSHOLE!, she was thinking, If you are reading my mind, I fucking hate you. You could have warned me. She wasn't lying, the level of hate inside her rising to the point where her energy began to diminish dramatically.

The girls had been frightened by how he had treated her, not expecting it. "See that?" Mark called out, amused at their shock though he hated to do it at her expense, "Just a toy. I'd be a fool to fall for one of your kind again. Don't worry, soon she'll be with the rest of you, plotting my death along side you. Isn't that how some of you ended up the way you are, trusting another bitch just like you?" Mark, beginning to feel Michelle's anger and hatred get the best of her, scooped her up onto his shoulder, the shotgun pointed at the girls. "You know what's best for you, you'll all make your way back to the hole I sent you to."

When they hesitated Mark motioned to Glen who laughed, coming at them with the same face she'd seen what felt like so long ago. Mark carried Michelle inside and once he closed the door to the porch he let his voice calm, though not entirely, "Damn it, I told you not to talk to them."

"They called me small," she argued, feeling him sit her down on a sofa, throwing an old quilt onto her. "Bitches called me fucking small. I may well be but I'm a lot stronger than they are and.... What?"

He was looking down at her wild eyes and the tears building in them, "Kid, you're far superior to them, I promise."

"Stop reading me, I hate that shit. I'm not... I'm not...."

"Yes you are. You-" He stopped, not knowing how to continue. Instead he headed to the kitchen making noise, "Hungry?"

"No," she pouted.

"That's too fucking bad, you're eating."

"I'm not hungry," she said again, angry.

Mark slammed the fridge door, walking into the room with a large raw steak and eggs in his hands, "Again, too fucking bad. You are not... for now you are not going to be like them you hear me? Get those hellcats out of that pretty little head of yours because thinking about them will do us no good."

"Us?"

"Shut up and stare at a wall while I cook or something."

With nothing in the room to entertain her as she waited except her puppy finally trotting down the stairs with Elka close behind, she pretty much did end up starring at the wall with her puppy next to her tugging at the sleeve of the shirt.

Soon, he was walking in with a plate and a cup of something golden and obviously cold. "Beer?" she asked instantly.

"Get that puppy out of your lap, what did you name him?"

"Tigger."

"What the hell kind of name is that?" he asked, putting the plate and cup on the coffee table then picked her up, sitting down and placed her on his lap again, putting the plate in hers and gave her the beer.

"A name. I liked it thanks."

"Open," he said ignoring her temper, the fork filled with a big cut of steak and egg, the yoke dripping. She had to admit, he'd unknowingly made her favorite meal, one she hadn't had since the beginning of their war. She gave in, opening her mouth letting him feed her. She had to admit she was happy to be close to him again, though that made her struggle with what had just happened.

"I had to hurt you Michelle. Only way to get you to shut up. And they deserve to be out there. Trust me on it."

Michelle looked confused, opening her mouth to another bite, "You don't feel bad... even a little? You like hurting them? Watching them suffer. I bet some of those people have spent years without food or water and-"

"They all deserve the treatment I give them. I didn't ask for this, it's the job I was given."

"You kill."

"Eat, you wild beast. When you are done I'm taking you upstairs to sleep."

"Sleep?"

The internal struggle to stay mad at him was like a battle inside her brain and he was enjoying every moment of it, "Yes sleep."

"I'm not tired." She was taking her last bite and sighed, knowing he was right.

"See? Come on, drink that last bit and let's go."

"You too?"

Mark laughed, taking the cup from her and picked her up, swinging her over his shoulder again. She was bothered by his babying.

"I can walk damn it."

"Barely. How you made it to the porch without falling on your face I will NEVER know, nor understand. Michelle you need to stay in that bed until-"

"I feel better. That's my own rule and you can't change it. I'm better, end of story." She managed to wiggle so much he had to put her down and before he could grab her again she made it to the bed, getting in with some effort. "See?"

"Again, you barely made it in. Take it off."

"No."

He was amused by her sudden change in character. If he didn't sense she needed one more night's rest, he would have ripped the clothing off her and fucked her senseless. "Say that again?" Too late, she'd passed out almost the second she lay down her head, barely having made it into the sheets. He wanted to get into the bed with her, hoping that when she woke, her mood would be much different.

~~~~

He was pulling his clothes on when she woke up and she watched him for a while until he looked over his shoulder at her when he was sitting at the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots. "Don't get out of this bed until I get back."

"You won't be here so try enforcing that."

"I mean it girl."

"Same here. Where the hell you going?"

Mark knew the argument coming at him from a mile away, "My job."

"You make me sick," she grunted, rolling over and he instantly rolled her back.

"Look you need to understand this...."

"Understand what? You fucking rip people from life and bring them to suffer when they didn't do anything to hurt you. You don't just hurt them you hurt the people that care about them. You used to be alive once, don't you fucking care?"

"If I cared, I wouldn't have been chosen for this shit life now would I? Go back to sleep and when I get back we'll talk," he told her, leaving but she was so angry she was following him slowly, he could hear her bare feet against the wood.

"No! You can stop can't you? Just don't go. They could be a good person and you just snatch all hope-"

Mark was frustrated, turning to yell, "You don't exactly understand my job do you? I told you, we'll talk about it when I get back. Head back upstairs and sleep you monster."

"Monster? Only monsters in this place are you and Glen. I can't stand you." He was reaching the door when she finished and he stopped one last time to read her. She didn't mean it, not completely. Though that was good to know, her last words being so spiteful bothered him and he left without another word to her.

Michelle sighed, sinking to the steps but soon big black boots were in front of her, not Mark's boots. "I'm sorry Glen."

"It's okay. Mark just gets bothered by it more than I do." He could tell she was regretting her words somewhat and thinking it over he tried to laugh, helping her up, "How about I get you out of here."

She raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"Get dressed. I put your clothes in the closet, hanging up. Everything is pretty much black for the most part so it's not like it should take you that long. Just pull something on and we'll go."

Michelle was suddenly all ears, "Where?"

"The center of hell."

~~~~

What does one wear to hell?, she asked herself, pushing things back and forth until she pulled down a black tank top and a jean skirt. It was simple but it'd do and she laced up her own black boots before heading downstairs where Glen was waiting.

"I think that's the most clothing I've seen you wear since your first night here."

"Funny. How do we get there?" she asked and soon he'd lead her to the garage where a beat up pick up waited for them.

"In this. Get in, the door is most likely open."

"What's it like there?" she asked, settling down on the bench seat.

Glen looked at her oddly, "What SHOULD hell look like? I guess it's a mess, kind of like... you know New York?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, "It's not New York anymore. Well the state is but they are their own territory now and...."

He shook his head, "No, before your stupid war. Before your war, you go there?"

"Yeah. I prefer San Francisco any day."

"Well it's like New York but 100 times dirtier and darker and a hell of a lot more dangerous. I went there when I was alive. God those were the times. Mark and I used to ride there all the time before we started for the west coast of America. Anyhow, Hell is where all the demons and uglies reside. The monster's the devil gives honor to. The slaves that do their bidding. It's just one big city of sin and death."

"Wait so what the fuck are you? Dead? Alive?"

"Ask Mark, he understands it. I don't get any of this or the loopholes or rules. Hold onto something, the truck is going to jerk," he said with a playful smile.

"What?" was all she managed to say before the truck jerked forward a bit, like it was passing through an invisible wall. Soon it was facing her, the center of hell. Glen had explained it pretty accurately, yet it was far more rundown and dirty than she could ever imagine. It was sort of funny to her how red everything seemed. Shades of gray and black the only other colors that dominated the world she'd been pulled into. She latched herself onto the window, intent on trying to memorize everything. Had she still had a heart beat, she could imagine how quickly it'd be beating. She knew her body felt quite tense. Behind her she could hear Glen going on about everything, pointing out homes and buildings of interest.

"Wait," he said quickly, pulling her back from the window to make her look at him, "Don't look out for a second."

"Why?" she said interested and looking back before he could stop her she almost gagged on the spot. The girl had to be around her age, half naked in the dirtiest rags she'd ever seen. She was being dragged in a building, florescent lights aglow all over it. She was screaming, clawing at the people surrounding her for help. Her eyes were bright red, beaten up pale skin, he hair matted up and tangled. The man in front of her dragging was calling her names, telling her to quit her yapping. Soon Glen was driving away once the hold up had moved and she was still straining to look. "What the hell is that place?"

"Sex club. They take them there so... you can imagine Princess Salt Rock."

She felt a small pain in her chest, like a deep panic, yet she didn't quite feel panicked herself. She wanted to tell Glen but he was pulling over in front of what seemed like a city hall building. He turned the truck off, turning to look at her, "This would be the house of Lucifer. You stay in this truck, don't go getting out for ANY reason."

"What? I can't come?"

"God no! If they want to take you they will and I won't be able to stop them."

Michelle couldn't help herself and pouted, "Come on! You brought me along and NOW you want me to stay in the car like a puppy? So lame. No, I'm coming."

Before Glen could grab for her she was getting out, surprised by just how cold it was. "Dang, I thought hell was hot."

Glen grabbed her arm, yanking on it to walk up the stairs and he talked harshly to her, "No, that's just crap they tell you in church to be scared. Hell and heaven are far more complex then they tell you. Just... keep your mouth shut and don't answer any questions. Mark is going to kill me."

"But you're...." She didn't finish, letting her voice trail off.

It was the biggest place she'd ever been inside. Slaves walking the main hallway in chains, what could only be described as devils watching over them. Almost the instant they walked in everyone turned to look at them. Glen didn't let her stop to look to long because he grabbed her arm again, yanking her up a long stair case to double doors, pushing them open and pulled her in behind him.

The room was like something out of a bad horror film to Michelle, dark and dirty looking, yet eerily settled. The light that shined through the colored glass windows made her heart skip a couple beats. The light was darker around the desk at the end of the room, where a man sat cracking his knuckles. He was tanned, handsome, incredibly inviting to look at. He was so large and muscled, tattoos all over his bare arms. He was wearing a black shirt, tight to his chest, and dark dress pants. His shoes were so shiny she could see herself in them as he stood to greet them.

She was oblivious to the sight Lucifer and Glen were experiencing. Lucifer, who carried a dark glow with him to those like Glen who could see it, was beholding a glow far brighter than he'd seen in his presence in some time. Michelle was shinning so brightly, warm and inviting. She couldn't see it and if she could have she wouldn't have been able to explain it. The oddest part was how most her light was dead center in her chest. Glen began to regret bringing her, the fear of what was about to happen spreading through him.

"Who is this lovely light?" Lucifer asked, a sly smile spreading about his lips.

"You called for me," Glen said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to his side.

Michelle couldn't help but smile at Lucifer as he smiled at her, his eyes like two dancing lights. Lucifer reached out for her hand and like a moth to the flame she took it, letting him kiss her hand and bring her into the dim blue light from the glass. He was studying her, licking his lips as he did it. "Is this 'Taker's new princess?"

"His new ass," Glen responded, standing directly behind her. Between the two of them she felt so small and as Lucifer got distracted, she regained some sense of place. She took a step back from him, connecting with Glen again and felt his hand clasp tightly on her shoulder.

"Ass? Stopped looking for his savior then? Good, I need him. She is so delightful looking, though. She shines. Do you think he'd mind if I kept her around a bit?"

She hated being talked about like property and spoke quickly, "And I get no choice of course? I have a name, for the record. Please use it."

Lucifer chuckled, Glen took in gulp of air. Lucifer's hand pushed some hair out of her face, taking a deep look into her eyes. He was trying his hardest to read her but somehow he couldn't and he couldn't tell what she was but he knew she wasn't just a piece of ass. "Well what is your name, darling girl?"

"Michelle."

"And you must know who I am."

"Lucifer."

Glen was getting tense and instantly interrupted again, "What did you need me for?"

"I need to know when the newest harvest will be."

"It will be sent tomorrow. Was that all?"

"No," Lucifer said, leaving Michelle and Glen for his desk again, "I need you go for someone. His time is near but I have promised him safe passage and a high position. I trust you will get him here safely."

"Will do. That all now?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, "Anxious to leave? Why not stay to eat?"

Glen tried to change his tone, "No just need to get this back. 'Taker off picking up souls and the fields ain't being watch but by the dogs."

"I understand," he said, watching Glen grab Michelle's arm and pull her for the doors. Behind them they could hear Lucifer call out behind them, "Take care Michelle. Maybe we can arrange to see each other soon."

~~~~

Michelle was laughing as she followed Glen into the house, walking from the garage. "He seemed decent enough."

"He's the devil, child. Dont' forget it. He has a way with your kind. He can make one think he's still an angel from heaven. He's far from it though."

Glen stopped dead in his tracks after opening the front door, making her slam straight into his back. Peering around him she could see Mark, his face red with anger.

"Where the FUCK did you take her?"

"Mark I couldn't leave her here."

"He called for you, and you took HER?! You know what you've done? He knows now. He's going to see it."

Glen took a couple steps forward, throwing keys onto the sofa, "Hard to miss. You should have seen her in there, Mark. Her light...."

Mark grew jealous. While he could sense her light, he knew only in the presence of Lucifer, of true darkness, would her light fully shine. He wanted to ask more of it but he was still livid and continued to show it. "You're an idiot, Glen. And you!"

Michelle frowned, coming around Glen and standing before him, "Nothing happened, quit crying about it."

"Crying about it?!"

"I'm fine, you lunatic. Look at me. Ain't anymore dead than how you left me, asshole."

Mark didn't respond, heading up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door. Michelle sighed, looking over her shoulder at Glen. She knew Glen was reading her mind so she didn't bother to talk, just headed up the stairs. She felt guilty.

~~~~

"Mark?" She walked into the room quietly, finding him sitting in the chair looking at the empty bed. He didn't bother to look back at her, just kept sitting there in silence. "Mark... please don't be mad."

Michelle didn't think twice, pulling herself into his arms and cupped his cheeks. "Look at me?"

The sweet tone the question was asked in made his hands tremble. She hadn't waited for an invitation, she simply pulled herself into his arms. He couldn't help it, wrapping his arms around her as she continued to make him look her in the eyes. It was intimidating and scary to him, feeling like she was penetrating him.

"I'm safe."

"You may not have been. You two got lucky. YOU got lucky. Michelle, Lucifer could have kept you there and there would have been NOTHING I could have done about it. And the little I could have done would have probably killed me. I'm not keeping you in this room to keep you a prisoner...."

"You're not?" She was genuinely curious and interested in what he was saying.

"It's to keep you safe. If something happened to you...."

She didn't care to hear more, she kissed him with whatever amount of energy she had left in her. "I'm sorry I went," she whimpered, feeling his hands grope at her back tightly.

He could feel it building, his hunger for her long coming. Mark tried to stop himself from ripping her clothes off but it was hard, feeling her arms tighten around his neck, bringing herself closer than before. She'd suddenly gone from so strong to weak, whimpering as he kissed her with force. He could read the weakness in her mind, her thoughts regretting leaving with Glen knowing now how she'd worried him. She didn't truly understand why it worried him, but she recognized it and it was good enough for her.

He couldn't help himself, grabbing her roughly and carrying her to the bed. He let himself down ontop of her, never leaving her lips. Not that he could have if he tried. Even as weak as she was getting, her grip was tight on his face, her lips latched onto his. His mouth only escaped her to groan, feeling her legs wrap around his waist. It brought him so close to her sex he was about to take her there but she let out a weak groan, opening his eyes to see her pale.

FUCK! he thought to himself, pulling away even with her trying to not let him go. "Stop it, girl. Go to sleep."

She didn't even react to his words. The passion had pulled everything out of her. The fighting, the emotions, the trip. All of it was enough to drain her. But that small moment of passion, bottled up since her first night there, was enough for him to see she was getting better. And maybe she wouldn't be like the others. That alone scared him.