Nope! Blaze Can Fuck Off

Lois Lane stood there, naked, after a long and frankly horrific night, what with shoving a bottle up her pussy, walking through Suicide Slum, and encountering the Scarecrow of all people and getting herself dosed with his fear toxins—she simply had no more fucks to give.

"Look, if it's your bottle, take it and get the fuck out." The naked reporter said with a sigh. "Whatever your deal is, I don't care. I'm tired and I want a glass of wine and sleep. And another thing: I don't appreciate your smoking in my apartment."

Blaze smiled. It was a Mona Lisa smile, that kind of smile that said she knew something Lois didn't. She took a drag on the cigarette and blew a plume of smoke toward the naked reporter.

"And what will you do when I don't just leave?"

"I'll call the police. I'll scream bloody ****. I'll yell for Superman. Or maybe I'll just kick your ass!" Lois balled her hands into fists, all the weird energy and frustration of the night coming back to her. She wanted to fight someone...do something!

"Go ahead," the demon said.

Lois stared hard into those pure-white eyes. The demon's body language showed nothing but supreme confidence. There was about a centimeter of ash on the end of the cigarette, and Blaze tapped it out onto the carpet.

Sensing a trap, Lois Lane reached for her phone. Zero bars showed, a red X over the signal indicator. The reporter ran over to the sliding doors that opened to the balcony...and stopped cold before she reached the glass.

One advantage that this apartment had was a great view of Metropolis. Twenty-odd stories up, and facing east, she could and sometimes did watch the sun rise over the city, over the parks and streaming down the avenues. It was one of the things she enjoyed most during the winter...but beyond those doors there was no Metropolis. There was a city the likes of which Lois had never seen before.

Packed avenues of naked bodies churned along, driven by whips of fire that left black scorch marks. Towering, crazy structures loomed...profane ziggurats whose sides were decorated with diabolic frescoes, a roaring amphitheater like a great toothed maw, pits of open flame in which people were tossed to burn, while on the shores red figures with long cruel pitchforks stabbed to keep them from the edges. The air itself seemed to burn, heavy with clouds of burning ash that fell on bare heads and shoulders, and black-winged things dipped and cried, snatching up random people, carrying them up...and just dropping them to splatter against hard ledges, the sharp corners of buildings, the middle of the flame pits...even as Lois Lane watched, burning meteorites seemed to fall, and each one was a wailing, naked woman...

"My domain," Blaze said, appearing behind Lois, her reflection in the mirror. "Beyond this apartment is hell. No one can hear you, no one can see you. Not Superman, not even the First of the Fallen. We are beyond their reach. So it shall be until morning, when I bring us back."

The demon sucked on the cigarette again as Lois absorbed her words.

"Think of it not as a prison, Lois. Think of it as...a bit of freedom. For these next few hours, you can do whatever you want. Without shame, without judgment. Is there nothing you've wanted to try, in all your life, but were too afraid or ashamed to do?"