“We swore to serve you forever.”I looked around, seeing my mother and father, my sisters and their families, the children the sluts bore for Mark. But I didn't see our daughter. Where was Chase?Why hadn't our daughter appeared? She was bound to us by the Zimmah ritual. I saw it in her eyes. She expected to die with us. I looked up. Was our daughter alone up there, surrounded by our corpses, crushed by her guilt? I concentrated on her, and almost wept.She was in so much pain.Mark and I had failed her. We had conquered the world, given mankind a utopia, but we could never make our daughter happy. All we had to do was give it up. We were selfish. We wanted our power, we deluded ourselves that she would come around eventually.There had to be a way to help her. I'm sure there was a way to help her.I could sense Mark's thoughts, our souls so linked together and the barriers of reality so thin here in Hell, his emotions bled through our bond into me. *Chase is a better person than I ever. Smith was watching me. I had to check in with him on the weekends when my mother did inventory at her work because she didn't get home until 3am. For some reason she trusted him. I think it was because he was a doctor. He pulled me close. "And it smells and looks like you've been drinking." I pulled away. (I'd had a couple of screwdrivers at the party, but I wasn't smashed.) "And to top it off, you drove home and had my daughter with you in the car." I lowered my head; he had me there. (Ok, they were large screwdrivers, but like I said, I wasn't smashed.) He sat behind his desk. "Look at me." It took some nerve, but I finally lifted my head. Dr. Smith's steely gaze was kind of scary. Normally I consider him somewhat attractive in a older-man-fantasy type of way, but not tonight. "Clear...off...my...desk." I shook with every word of that command because that's exactly how it all started the last time. I knew that he intended on punishing me now. "Please, I'm too old," I begged..
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