Hettie tumbled through lily-scented blackness, her flesh flayed from her body in strips by a million tiny invisible razors. So, she thought wryly, hell hadn’t changed since her last trip here. How comforting.
Barbs made of fire clung to her flesh and gouged out thimble-sized hunks. A fine rain of acid seared every inch of her. Soon, the outer layer would be gone to expose her innards, she supposed, and then the real fun would begin.
Hettie decided to make a game with herself: How long could she go without screaming? She’d have an eternity of this, after all. Might as well find ways to make infinite torment interesting.
When she was raw and divoted as a boiled potato, maggots descended to inveigle themselves into the braided ropes of wet, exposed muscle. Hettie watched them—she didn’t ha
