Ptolemaea

the nine circles of hell were cavernous and dangerous, Emory followed Clementine in, there was so much blood, it smelled of sulfur— Emory hated sulfur but she didn’t care all that much, she wanted to see Clementine once more, her Clemmy, her bride, she wanted to see her beneath her arms once more and if it meant venturing into hell itself for her she would break every bone in her body twice just to get the chance, her bones broke one by one and her blood ran cold, yet it wasn’t enough to deter the human chimera, whatever she lost from her body she could regrow, but she wouldn’t live with herself if she left Clementine dormant in the pits of hell, she felt a deep sense of devotion a devotion that hurt her, a devotion that turned her into a rapid fiend, a devotion she had only read of in classical tales an occult sensation filled her mind as it was hellbent on saving the only person she had ever loved, her little woman…