A Cold Day in Hell (An Erotic Paranormal Short Story) by Deni D'Amore

 
    Driving.
    That was the last thing Dara could remember. Driving
down I-10, whizzing past slowpokes, jerks, assholes, and other morning
commuters. Smoothing her sleek ombre hair in the rearview mirror, applying Cashmere
Rioja to her lips. Glancing down to make sure her boobs were shown to best
advantage in her equally red top. Looking up to see the back end of a semi
rushing up much too fast.
    Then...nothing.
    Now here she was, standing inside a cave of ice. An
arctic wind shrieked through it, cutting right through her semi-sheer Valentino
blouse and second-skin black skirt. Her sky-high heels offered no warmth, and
she struggled to keep from sprawling on the icy floor.
    "H-hello!!" she called through chattering
teeth, but the sound only echoed back from the walls, mocking her.
    Silence again. Then a pile of icy stalagmites began
to shift and move. As an L.A. native, her first thought was an earthquake. It
grew and stretched, and she realized with mounting disbelief that it was…well,
sort of alive.
    The monstrosity slowly erected itself before her,
reaching a height of nearly eight feet. It was somewhat human in appearance,
massive and white, translucent in places, with foot-long spears of ice for
fingers. There was no hair, just a mass of hoarfrost frozen about its head. The
eyes were an unnerving shade of gray-white that looked rather blind, but when
the creature spoke, Dara realized they saw quite well.
    Its stiff bow was mocking and formal. "Welcome
to Hell. Nice Fendis.” The rasp of the voice was like the grating boom of
glaciers colliding.
    "Wh-what? What are you talking about?" Her
normal tone, practiced and sultry, came out as a squeak. This must be a
nightmare. Wake up, damnit. She pinched her arm. It left a red weal, but
the demon remained, staring at her with chilly contempt.
    "Hell. You died on the freeway in an accident.
You're dead. This is your own personal Hell."
    Dara glanced around in confusion. "I thought
Hell was hot. Fire and brimstone. Roasting over fires."
    The demon looked bored. "Another one who’s seen
too many movies. We make our own Hells. This is yours."
    Okay, I'll go with this weird-ass dream. Let my
analyst figure it out. "Why is my Hell cold?”
    "Because you were a cold-hearted, calculating
cockteaser in your life. You took delight in tantalizing and never following
through. Consider your current clothing, selected for a day of what you would
consider work." The demon gestured at her skimpy outfit with a frosty claw.
    "You enjoyed tormenting men and women, young
and old, stranger and friend. It’s always been about you and your ego, the
power you could collect. Your heart was cold, your thoughts were cold, your
cunt was cold. This is your reward."
    Her trembling increased as the wind chilled her body.
What she still thought of as a dream was too ridiculous for her to feel real
fear yet. But this is going to cost a fortune in therapy, she thought
unhappily . "So I’ll starve and freeze as punishment?"
    "Hardly. You can't die in the traditional
sense. That's already happened."
    “Was I…I mean, did I…” Her voice trailed off. The
glazed, icy eyes of the demon made the question unthinkable to ask. He smiled
with slow malice, clearly able to guess or read her mind.
    “No. You didn’t look the least bit sexy after the
accident. No one thought what a shame it was that such a gorgeous girl met such
an untimely end. It was a closed-casket funeral. It was also sparsely attended.
Mostly by those who didn’t know enough about you to realize how little you
cared about them.”
    Dara flushed in spite of the cold. The flat,
emotionless tone of the creature hinted it wouldn’t bother with a lie, good or
bad. It simply stated what was, without human niceties.
    “But I know Kate was there. She’s my best friend.
She’d never let me down even though – even though –“
    “Even though you were sleeping with her husband?”
The demon snickered quietly at her expression. “You have no