02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers Read Online Free PDF Page A

but pointed a shaky finger at the candidate and shook his head, hoping the guy would understand.
    Follow orders. Do. Not. Descend
.
    At Michael’s silent instruction, the candidate stopped and reconsidered. Shivering uncontrollably, he returned to his position. And for the remaining two hours, all five candidates stayed aloft to endure whatever torture the Halo Masters could devise. Through it all, Michael used his vision of Sophia to calm his center, find his balance, and control his energy. Everything he’d wanted was coming together: enduring the trials to join the Halos, and being with Sophia. Always Sophia. It seemed her Awakening was not going to happen after all, and if they could keep their forbidden love a secret, they could have it all. With Dante and his dregs out of the way, Michael saw no reason to fear for Sophia’s safety. They would finally be together.

Chapter 3
Dante
    Bone-crunching screams echoed down the stone corridors of Hell’s Death Bunker. Blazing whips of fire snapped through the air, striking flesh already shredded to ribbons. Black blood pooled on the gritty stone floors and seeped into the groves. Now and then, a chain rattled against bony wrists and brittle ankles. And night after night, the condemned suffered.
    The Death Bunker was a maze of chambers with iron cages where nefarious henchmen lurked in shadows, eager to do their dirty work. Only the wailing cries of their victims drowned out their sadistic laughter. No one but the henchmen enjoyed the Death Bunker, and Dante was no exception. The moment he, Vaughn Raider, Wolfgang, and Santiago failed to Take the souls of Pastor St. James or Sophia, they were dragged back to Hell and locked in the Death Bunker. The daily torture had begun without a word from Lord Brutus, the leader of The Order of Reapers.
    Truthfully, Dante had expected some kind of personal reprisal from Lord Brutus. Perhaps a verbal lashing at the very least, before the real torture began. It was a curious thing that weeks had passed with no visit from any member of The Order. Dante feared they had finally had enough of his lies and deceptions. They had finally judged him and his men unfit to reap. There was nothing left but unmerciful suffering until they were stuffed down the chute that dumped into the Nether Region. Once there, the torture would continue because they were Demon Knights, cursed with personal demons living inside them. Trapped in the Nether Region, their demons would devour the Demon Knights from the inside out until nothing remained and they faded into the crispy ashes of their former selves.
    It was not pretty.
    But Dante wasn’t going down without a fight. Even now, with his wrists and ankles chained to the wall behind him, he peered through the bars of his cell and scanned the chamber for a way out. Day after day, he searched as he suffered.
    A particularly loud cry from an adjoining chamber pierced the air, making Dante twitch. He couldn’t feel sorry for the poor bastard because he was next; he could feel it, and his skin crawled with fear. Black blood and grime coated his naked torso. Littleremained of the clothes he’d worn in Haven Hurst; his black shirt hung in rags at his waist, and his black riding pants were sliced open, allowing a steady stream of blood to run into his tall riding boots.
    One of the torches along the wall sputtered unexpectedly, adding light to the dim chamber. Dante’s eyes shot across the aisle. It was finally bright enough to see his old friend. Vaughn Raider was in the opposite cell and bound to the wall like a man crucified, but for a few exceptions. Vaughn’s shackles were softly padded and offered no pain whatsoever. Vaughn was never whipped. Vaughn was never cut. Vaughn was dying.
    “You awake?” Dante called softly.
    Vaughn’s head sagged in defeat, and his dark hair covered his face. With the Demon of Affliction living inside him, Vaughn needed to inflict pain on others or himself. Denied these past weeks,