Demon Ensnared
Jezebeth surreptitiously tested her bonds, but it was no good. God's lackeys had done a good job. The ropes that bound her were woven from pure Divinium™ and so impervious to any heat that her demonic skin could generate.
The knowledge that they had captured her and that she had the battle plans – a tiny scroll rolled up and tucked into the top of her right boot – gnawed at her anxiety. If the heavenly hosts got wind of what was in those then all would be lost and humanity's story would be over for ever.
Craning her eyes downwards she could just about see the scroll nestling by her right knee. It was only just over a hand's breadth away. What if she could..?
She stretched out the fingers of her right hand and just brushed the rim of the piping along the boot's rim. So near yet so far! But so far so good. She flexed her leg against the bonds and gained another two dentimetres. Another minute of concentration and subtle squirming allowed her to slip her shin slightly further up the boot and the scroll moved nearer to the top of the shaft.
She really hoped there wasn't an OPTV camera in the cell, or that if there was – God's attention was currently elsewhere. The alleged omnipresence was all spin put about as a cost cutting exercise. The fear of god was far cheaper than surveillance equipment.
She managed to push her leg back down into the boot without taking the scroll with it. Good. Now she was getting somewhere. She repeated the process until finally she was able to get hold of the paper's edge with the tips of her talons. Carefully, carefully she manoeuvred the scroll up until it was in the palm of her hand, and she closed her fist around it.
But now what? Tearing it up one handed would probably be beyond the limit of her manual agility and the Divinium™ prevented any of her innate powers being used beyond the boundary of her skin. She'd be unable to incinerate it which would have been her first choice.
However... while the ropes suppressed her supernatural powers they had no effect on her natural dexterity.
She held the scroll between two fingers and with a deft click of her thumbnail flipped it up into the air. She watched, eyes widening, as it turned over and over in the air and stuck out her tongue just as it was about to hit her face, catching it with her lips.
She smiled for a moment at the thought of it hanging from the corner of her mouth like a cigarette before chewing the parchment to pap and dry swallowing it. A satisfying warmth spread through her abdomen as her digestive system incinerated the incriminating object. She was safe – well relatively. She'd still been captured by the Seraphic Inquisition, but without any evidence they'd in all likelihood have to release her, perhaps as part of a prisoner exchange.
Just in time. The door opened and St Erasmus walked in. He'd been the lowlife who'd tied her to the slab while the heavies had held her down.
She wasn't even going to give him the satisfaction of a sneer, and instead turned her gaze to the concrete ceiling above.
"Where are they?" Erasmus's voice was neurotic and nasal, "We know you've got the plans on you somewhere!"
"I'm afraid," said Jezebeth with a smirk, "The details are in the devil."