Anthony gripped the hilt of his sword as he trudged through the stench of sulfur and decay. The screams of hell had dwindled, leaving a quiet that sent shivers down his spine. His heart hammered in his chest, but his responsibility to protect the mortal realm grounded his feet. He thought of his lover, Maya, and how she pleaded for him to stay. He pressed against the grand, double doors of the throne room.
"Darling, why are you hiding?" A familiar, but distorted voice echoed. Why was she here? Was he being lured by a mimic? Was that the plot of the demon queen? He drew his sword, and he charged forward. Then, he paused. His eyes widened at the sight of his pregnant wife, Layla. She sat on the throne, breastfeeding a baby- their baby. Anthony stared.
Layla stared back, eyes a crimson and shifting with shadows. She was a twisted thing of bone and sinew. "But I-" Anthony was speechless, his lips trembling. "What's happened to you- to our child?"
"You left us." Her voice dropped into a harsh whisper, "You abandoned us."
"No, I fought for us." Anthony shook his head. "The demon queen- has she taken you?"
"She's done more than that, my love." Layla's laughter echoed. "The demon queen set me free, darling."
The demon queen appeared next to his wife- a horned butch woman. Their laughter formed a sinister chorus. "I've watched her all this time- I’ve watched her cry, take care of you, yearn for you while you run around, and now she’s mine."
Anthony tightened the grip on his sword. "I- I won't lose you."
"You already have," they said at the same time.
The walls broke with shadows, and they swarmed Anthony. He swung uselessly. Anthony was no longer fighting to save the world, he was fighting to survive.