Following the old man’s gaze, Sallas steered his attention to a group of well-dressed human-like skinny young men and women. They were all dressed in black, with clothes more in fashion during the Nineteenth Century rather than modern age. Most had long hair and very pale faces with bloodshot eyes, but nothing unusual about them that would warrant Sallas’s interest. Then one of them went to the prison and picked a man and a woman after a careful selection. The guards had no objection to his taking the two away, and Laurent braced himself ‘cause they weren’t destined for a happy ending.

Once brought to the rest of the group, for a moment nothing happened. Everybody simply circled around the two, looking them up and down with a strange light flashing in their eyes. Then they jumped all together, like a pack of wolves on the two victims, mouths slightly ajar from which pointy white teeth gleamed malignantly. Assaulting the innocent victims, their razor sharp devices sank in the flesh, some on the throat, others on the chest, and sucked the life out of them. In a matter of seconds, it was gone, the dead frames falling to the ground while the group licked its lips, already scrutinizing the prison for the next energy drinks.

“But why can’t I hear their screams?” Laurent wondered out loud, noticing more than one opened his mouth wide before collapsing lifeless.
“Because the piano swallows their sounds and turns them into music.”
“So the fingers and the headless man—”

“They’re just for show.” Sallas nodded gravely, gesturing at the fingers leaving for a tour of the saloon in the direction of the bar counter. “Without terrorized screams the piano would be silent.”

“It’s revolting and horrible.”

“It’s the punishment the fools deserve for meddling where they don’t belong and never will ‘cause the dark arts are for very few enlightened spirits. But cheer up.” With a broad smile, Sallas patted his back. “Not all our tortures are so terrible.” The old man directed his attention to the opposite side of the room.

A completely different scene unfolded before Laurent. Instead of blood and death, an orgy was in progress. The men and women chosen for what looked like a completely separate event seemed pampered rather than brutalized. Interestingly enough, the protagonists on this side were the devilish Lilliputians. They were devoted entirely to blowing cocks, licking cunts and butt holes, helping any demon wanting to have fun with a human.
 Sometimes they serviced their masters, too, their astonishingly long tongues wrapping like an endless rope around some of the biggest erections Laurent had ever seen. Not just long, but large, way beyond anything a human male could hope to achieve, not even through surgery. And they used them surprisingly well, too.

Whether preying on a man or a woman, they’d stick their incredible pieces with an expertise that made Laurent think they did nothing else all day long. If the pigmy spread the cheeks apart, they would plunge in one single thrust all the way to the balls, so fast Laurent sometimes didn’t catch the moment of entry. Still the hole enlarged in the blink of an eye to a size it would never know in the human dimension. Others drilled slits while their acolytes held arms and legs to prevent the woman from moving. In this case, the demons had a grand time switching holes, going from one to another rapidly and with such powerful shoves Laurent wondered how they didn’t split their partners in half.

Men had better deals, everything considered. The midgets would often lap their cocks while they were either impaled or gagged by the monstrous equipment pushing down, or up depending on the direction. More devils provoked humans’ desire to a spasm. Having their tiny assistants lick a cunt or suck a dick without allowing a come, Laurent could testify to the devastating effects on the poor victims, squirming and begging for release. For all response, the monsters would stick their erections in his or her mouth, suffocating their frantic pleas.

Unable to avert his eyes, Laurent watched the variety of shafts penetrating derrières, cunts, and mouths, some to the point they actually came out the opposite end. Like in his wild fantasies, the demons managed to grow such long shafts they actually emerged from a throat, even if banged up an ass. And he didn’t think it was at all pleasant for the people assembled orgy-style on the floor, their yellowish fluids somehow mixing with the reddish ones to make a ghastly sticky pool in the middle of the room.

Twisting among the demons inflicting such pains and pleasures, Laurent saw two very familiar snakes doing their best to transform sex into a weapon. “But those are—”
“In the meantime, you’re welcome to watch the show. Here…” He pulled a chair from an empty table. “Take a seat and order something to drink. Our saloon’s full of delicious drinks, the likes of which you’ve never taste in your human world.”

Unnoticed until that moment, the main floor had a life of its own. All tables except one were occupied by archfiends watching now the torture, now the sex. Each had a full glass, which at times they raised in loud cheers—and Laurent didn’t care to know what deserved their praise. Oddly, though, he couldn’t determine who served them the drinks. If there were two bartenders at the counter, whom he had noticed when the fingers reached their station, they hadn’t moved since Laurent’s arrival, so someone had to—

Then on turning around, he saw him, leaning to whisper in one of the bartender’s ears. “Who’s he?”o?” Sallas glanced behind him. “That’s Viridial, our demon waiter.”