Raising Hell

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Raising Hell Page 10

by L W Rogers


  I’m going to be working blind, so I head for the only place I believe they could have put her. I shudder at the thought. The place is near enough to The Satan that it could be an inconvenience as the risk of being caught is heightened. Sure, I’ll have to enter the inner circle of The Satan’s private sanctum, but the guards that survey the area are positioned away from the cells that I have to get to. However, there is one huge problem. Somewhere within this facility is the cell that houses the Original Satan. Yeah, that one. Let me explain.

  When the overgrown demon-child that governs us fell and assumed his position as the new Satan, it was decided that the Original Satan would be locked away so that he couldn’t cause any more mischief. God decided that he would spare him and passed the order down for him to be contained, and the rest is history. He’s supposed to be a seriously scary guy. The only reason he hasn’t escaped is because of God’s ‘mysterious ways’ apparently.

  I shudder as I consider what could happen if Lailah is anywhere near where he is confined. I don’t know what he did, but if it’s bad enough for him to be ousted by a replacement Satan sent by the big man upstairs then I don’t really think I want to find out. Sure there are rumours aplenty, but it must have been the vilest of things if it was interfering with God’s plan enough to warrant a second falling. Colour me impressed, but also not stupid enough to go and tangle with one who will probably be the end of me.

  Craaaaaaack.

  Sadly that was not the sound of the random storms that occasionally erupt within this pit of doom. That was, in fact, the sound of me reaching the outskirts of the compound where I hope to find Lailah. Well, more precisely, it was the sound of my face meeting the granite surface that now impedes my progress. Damn, that smarts!

  I look around me to ascertain whether there is any sign of the guards that usually stalk these parts, but there are none around. Not unusual for the lazy bums who can’t be bothered to tear themselves away from their stations long enough to do their jobs and patrol the perimeter. Although, I would have expected there would be some kind of monitoring given that they have just gained another prisoner. I’m not really surprised though. This is what happens when you rotate staff from all of the available sections of Hell. My guess is that it’s the guards from Sloth on duty today. Enough said.

  I make my way towards the nearest sentry post. It’s absolutely no surprise whatsoever that I discover its two residents slumped and snoring in their chairs. I grin at the drool pooling in the dimple of one guard’s chin. He definitely won’t be waking any time soon. Add this to the fact that his compatriot has a whistle to accompany his snore, and I am a happy daemon. I don’t think they would wake if Hell froze over.

  I continue my journey through the open gateway, through the courtyard painted red by previous bloodshed, and in through the yawning doorway to the building’s innermost sanctum. Of course, it is now that I begin to hear voices in my head. Maybe I’m going mad or perhaps this building is made of materials that block the thoughts from escaping. I’m hopeful that it’s the latter, although the first voice I hear is not that of Lailah. There is a murderous roar, followed by a groan. It is clearly male, and one of the most terrifying things I have ever heard.

  “Boy! Are you here for me?”

  I’m not sure it’s in my best interests to respond as I have my suspicions as to who the originator is. So I opt to ignore him and try to contact Lailah instead.

  “Are you ignoring me on purpose?”

  I refuse to engage him, and silently wonder at the willpower that I’m displaying by not answering. I’m not sure where it has appeared from - we daemons are not known for our ability to resist much of anything really. Regardless, I know he’s definitely talking to me, when he says:

  “It’s Blaine, isn’t it? Be a good chap and come let me out of this cell.”

  I snort out loud. As if that’s going to happen! Why would I willingly unleash the very definition of Hell upon every being in the underworld? Besides, it’s hardly like I’m being given an incentive to do so.

  “I know, I know. You’re probably wondering what I could possibly give you in return, aren’t you? If you release me I can give you anything you desire. Anything at all...” he trails off.

  Tempting, but as a child of evil there’s not much I could want that I couldn’t take for myself should I choose to do so. He won’t be getting to me that easily.

  My errant thought is met with an ungodly roar. It’s enough to make the Greek Gods cower in fear, and there wouldn’t be any shame in them doing so either. I should never have let him engage with me, and now my concern is I won’t be able to push him out of my head. In fact, I know that I won’t, which is something he’s all too willing to drive home right now.

  “You’re stuck with me, you coward. I am Satan, and I will not be ignored. I’ll leave when I’m ready to, and by the time I do you will be obliterated. There’s nothing you can do to stop me from destroying you...”

  “He may not be able to, but I could give it a go.”

  Lailah?

  “Get out of here angel, nobody asked for your opinion. I will crush you.”

  “First of all, I doubt that very much. You have about as much power as me right now, and this communication is our hard limit. Second of all, you WERE in charge. You don’t hold that position any more. Just thought I’d throw that out there...”

  Damn she’s mean when she wants to be!

  “Impudent child. How dare you speak to me this way? If I wasn’t in here I would flatten you. I would tear those ridiculous wings from your back and spit on them. They’d make a great trophy for my wall.”

  “You could try, but I think you’ll find that Walter has already taken the honours. You’ll probably find them hanging over your mantelpiece already. Oh sorry...HIS mantelpiece. Anything else? Anything at all? Because I think you should leave now. Blaine and I have things to discuss.”

  Her words are met with an eerie silence. I think he must have left. I reckon it was around the time she referred to the new Satan as there is a lot of bad blood there. Unsurprising really, what with this guy being kept under lock and key.

  “Blaine?”

  Oops, I almost forgot about her.

  “Yes, Lailah? Where are you? How are you? Are you okay?” I shouldn’t really care about these things, but for some reason I do. I will put this down to my worry about being exposed. What I really want to know is if she’s told them yet.

  “No, Blaine. I haven’t told them yet.”

  I can almost hear the eye roll.

  “Look, are you going to come and find me or not? I have so much to tell you and, I suspect, far too little time to do it in. If you want me I’ll be in the cell next to Satan. Try to come in via the back entrance or else you’ll risk disturbing him. We’re in the centre of the building.”

  With that I find myself listening to an endless stream of white noise. I guess she’s gone then.

  ***

  After what seems like an eternity, I finally find my way to the centre of the building. Making sure I enter via the ‘back entrance’ (which in reality is a small duct on the opposite side of the room from the actual door) I cautiously make my way towards the middle of the room where two cells are situated. The one furthest away glows bright with angel light, whilst the one in which I hope to find Lailah is a fiery mix of flaming Hell’s fury – daemon’s fire to keep an angel imprisoned.

  Upon reaching the cell, I hesitate.

  “Come in, Blaine. You can walk right through. It won’t harm you, but there’s no chance of me coming to you.”

  What I find upon entering takes my breath away. Gone is the bright vibrant being that I am used to seeing, and in her place is a shade. Lailah is a sight to behold, but in the worst possible way. Her form is fading fast. The light that resides within her is muted at best, her hair lying lank around slumped shoulders. Her eyes are directed at the concrete floor. Her body is covered in wounds. Weeping gashes and surface slashes decorate her skin, ble
eding the barely there rays of her celestial self.

  She looks up and her eyes flash lightning, temporarily stunning me to silence and rooting me to the spot at the same time.

  “Don’t pity me, Blaine. For every moment that they leave me here I gain back more of myself. Sure, I won’t be able to break out of here, even at full power, but every time I am not subjected to their torture I am replenishing my reserves of power for the next round. But, I need to speak to you about something important. Something that it is vital you know...”

  “I can’t think of anything that is important enough for you to risk us both, Lailah.”

  “You don’t understand. There have been developments, Blaine – and not in a good way.”

  I glower at her.

  “Are you saying that, the woman won’t comply? She won’t give us what we need? I told you I should have handled it!”

  “No she won’t, and a firm no – you shouldn’t have! But we’ve already discussed why that is, haven’t we? What I need to tell you involves that situation, well the whole information sharing situation really.”

  She pauses to take a breath, and I raise an eyebrow at her to signal she should continue.

  “I fear we may have been misinformed.”

  Wait, what?

  “I can only go by the information that I’m given. However, I cannot guarantee the accuracy. It seems that some of the things that I have relayed may not be reliable information. What I mean is that I strongly believe that someone may have been on to me and they may have deliberately fed false facts to mess with the efforts at keeping the equilibrium between the three realms.”

  “So where do you think this break down has happened?”

  “Apart from the information that leads us to believe we have a balance issue? Basically all of it is untrue. And if that is the case, you need to run, Blaine, fast and far.”

  Well, damn...

  Chapter 13

  Cadence

  I must have lost consciousness at some point, as I now open my eyes to the sun’s bright beams shining down on me. My body feels battered and drained. My very soul is burned with grief. I take in my surroundings as I stumble to my feet. The sun peering through the trees is irritating. Today is not a day for light and happiness. Today is a dark day and the sun does not deserve to be seen. With these dark thoughts, it is as if a spell has been cast as dark, angry clouds suffocate the sun and all its brightness, leaving the day cold and dark, like my soul. I fleetingly wonder if that was my doing. I honestly don't care. My only thoughts right now are to get my mum down from that horrid tree of death, lay her to rest and to wreak vengeance on the asshole that has done this.

  I do my best to avoid looking at my mum. I’m unable to wipe the images of her last night from my mind. The emptiness in her eyes will haunt me until the day I die. There was no spark there. Her soul, goddess knows where.

  I don't bother using traditional methods to take my mum down from the tree. I don't care about the consequences of using magic for personal gain. I know I have the power to do whatever I wish. With a twist of my right hand, the binding that kept her dangling from the tree is severed and with my left hand I am able to levitate her slowly down. Tears are forming now and I push them away. With both my hands under her back, I slowly levitate her towards the house. Without even needing an incantation or to throw a fireball; our once favourite and sacred tree is engulfed in flames.

  I take my mum to her bedroom, laying her gently on the bed, and covering her body with her favourite blanket. I leave the room and head back downstairs to grab my phone. I need to call the coven. Another burial is needed.

  Taking out my phone, I see numerous missed calls from several of the coven. Of course, they probably know. I dial for Helena. She picks up on the first ring.

  "Cadence, what is wrong? Something happened last night. The whole coven felt it. We can't get hold of your mother." It had to be the first time I had ever heard her speak with genuine concern and worry.

  "She's gone. Call the coven. Be here for nightfall." Then I hang up. Helena tries to call back, but I let it go to voicemail. I have no intention of going into the details. If I could do the ritual on my own then I would, but with my mother being coven leader, it needs the whole coven. The realisation hits, I am now coven leader... I haven't even been through all the rituals. Would this mean Helena would try to take control? Quite possibly. I sure as hell don't want her to be leader.

  I hear my phone ring again. This time it’s Maggie. I don't answer, even though a part of me wants to. I need to be strong for myself and for the coven.

  It’s time to look at what happened the night before. I go back to the conservatory, looking around for any clues. I consider getting my pendulum out to scry for help, but something tells me I don't need to use that method of magic any more. Instinct tells me to reach out and touch the pentagram that is on the table.

  Without even a hint of hesitation I touch the dark pentagram. Nothing could have prepared me for what happens. Searing pain runs through my head as snippets of a vision come pouring through me at a deadly pace. I can hear incantations being called, darkness entering my family home, the vision of the dark circle being set up. I can't see who is doing it. It's as if I’m seeing this through the killer’s eyes. Pain spreads through my palm and as I look down, I see blood trickling from where a knife sliced through it. The pain pulls me back out of my vision. I look down at my palm which remains intact. I can feel sweat pouring down my back and across my brow. That was fucking intense. I've never had that ability before, and no one in the coven that I’m aware of has the gift of sight.

  I rub my temples. My head is pounding. What the fuck is going on with me? I know I have to go out to the garden next to see what secrets it will reveal, but the thought of going through something similar to what just happened doesn't fill me with glee. One thing I know for certain is that these are the workings of a fellow witch who is using very dark magic.

  I know who I need to see about this. There is only one person I know that has dabbled in dark magic and she was stripped of her powers and banished when I was a teenager. She’s my best hope of finding out who did this. It’s been several years since I have seen her. Much time has passed since my mum caught me being taught things I shouldn't be doing. I was banned from ever seeing her again.

  I stare out the conservatory window, watching as the flames still engulf the enormous tree. A sense of satisfaction settles over me as I watch it burn. Granted, it wasn't the tree’s fault, and usually I would hate to do such a thing. But this tree now represents death and darkness. It has no place here anymore, having served its horrible purpose.

  Whatever has happened with my powers, I like it. The sense of power is overwhelming. This is what mum must have felt when she became coven leader. I just wonder why she never used it to its full potential.

  I have no sense of time until I realise that sunset is approaching. This means the coven will be here soon. It’s something I really have no effort for, but I have to do what is best for my mum. I grab my phone and dial an old friend. I have to discuss something before the coven arrives.

  "Hey Cadence, been a while!"

  "I know. I'm shit Jessie, what can I say? Unfortunately, this isn't a catch-up call. I'm in need of your... expertise." I hesitate briefly. The last time I asked for his help, we both wound up in the shit...big time. Seeking his assistance is a huge ask and technically against the covens’ rules. I've never been one to stick to the rules to be fair.

  "This can't be good. What have you done now, Cadence?"

  "Don't assume it's me. This time it isn't. Promise!" He's quiet, waiting for my request.

  "I need you to try and contact...my mum." I swallow back the quiver in my voice. I'll have time to grieve later. Now is the time for action.

  "Oh, my Goddess, please tell me it's not true," he replies, shocked at my revelation. "Whatever you need Cadence, I’ll be there." His voice is so sincere. Talking to him, makes me realise how much I mis
s him in my life. We would probably be closer if it wasn't for the coven sticking their nose in where it isn't needed, forcing Jessie's poor mum to move away to another coven. His specific qualities are frowned upon by many witches. They feel his powers can’t possibly be given from the Goddess and therefore must have come from Satan himself. I can see why they would think that at first, but without actually seeing what a necromancer actually does, they have no right to judge.

  Yes, they can raise the dead, if they so wish to, although it’s not the best idea. Of course, we found out the hard way. What can I say? We were teenagers. We all do silly things now and again. Granted, raising the dead is a bit more than just having a few drinks underage. It's not as if we did it on purpose. And trust me, it put the fear of the Goddess in both of us and we’ve never dabbled in that again. As far as I am aware Jessie has not done it since.

  His gift is to help the souls of the lost Passover, finish any unfinished business and if asked; contact the dead. The latter is always a last resort though...one that I need from him now.

  "I know it's a huge ask, but it’s really important. She can help me find out who did this to her and put a stop to it. I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice."

  There was a silence between us. Not the uncomfortable kind. More of a silent understanding.

  "I can't promise anything, but I’ll do my best. It may take some time." Jessie finally replies.

  "I understand. Thank you. And Jessie, not a word of this to anyone else."

  "As if I would. Peace be with you." With those calming words he hangs up. I'll have peace once the witch is burned, I tell myself.

  I check out the conservatory window and see the remaining flames surrounding the cindered tree are almost out. 'It's now or never'. Knots form in the pit of stomach, churning tighter and tighter as I make my way towards the garden. The thought of tapping into whatever it is I did, doesn't thrill me. I keep my distance from what's left of the tree, not that I’m worried about being burned. That happens on a daily basis. I can still feel darkness holding on and I don't want to get that close.

 

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