Raising Hell

by L W Rogers

  “I don’t know, and I don’t know. In answer to your third question, I can only guess. I’m sure that a hybrid would have been picked up on here in Hell, so they cannot be here. I’m also sure that if such a child was living in the uppermost realm they would have been discovered and ‘taken care’ of, if you get my meaning. So by the process of elimination I’d say that this child is in the Earthly realm. What I can tell you with absolute certainty is that IF they survived birth, they are most definitely still alive somewhere. Which means you need to find them, and quickly.”

  “Which brings us back to you getting the hell out of here, Blaine,” Lailah interjects. “Now, more than ever, it is vital for you to have a contact on terra firma. You simply don’t have time to find a new one, which means that somehow you are going to have to convince Cadence that she must help. She has a vast network of contacts at her disposal, and they will be the easiest way to find this child. Now, before you say it, I know that you’re male, which is an issue in itself. However, the bigger problem is that you’re a daemon, and we know how she feels about that. The best thing to do is half this problem, by getting you a disguise. What you need is a human form, Blaine.”

  “Whoa, hang on a minute. You know how I feel about possession. There’s no way I’m going to put another being through that level of pain...”

  “Well, I’ve thought about that. How about if there was another way? What if there was a way to give you a body, but one that has not contained a human soul before? Call it a shell, if you will? You’d still be able to function, but you’d have to acclimatise yourself.”

  I grin. What fun! How great will it be to have a human suit of armour? Of course, as soon as I think this I am verbally reprimanded by Lailah.

  “There is nothing fun about this situation, Blaine. Nothing at all.”

  “I know, I know...I’ll do it, but how do I go about it? It’s not like I can go to a shop and buy a body, or I can just walk down the street and ‘BOOM’ there on a random rock at the side of a road in Nowheresville, is a skin suit.”

  “I don’t appreciate your humour, but I’ll let it slide this time and put it down to your nerves doing the talking for you.”

  “Actually, I think it’s pretty cool. I’ll be like some kind of attack bot. I...”

  “SHUT UP!” I stumble backward at the sheer force of the anger aimed in my direction by both of them. I don’t say another word.

  After a long and uncomfortable pause, Lailah continues, “It will take a very specific kind of magic to produce what we need for this. We need someone who is well versed in the dark arts; a satanic witch to be exact. We need the best. Sadly, I have no idea where to start. Satan?”

  “Oh, so now that you need my help you’re going to be polite? Well, that’s just typical! Anyway, I know exactly who you need. She’s living isolated from the rest of society. You’ll have to travel into the countryside of England and find her by word of mouth. She can give you exactly what you need.”

  “Her name?”

  “Her name is Valeria.”

  “Great, I’m being sent to a woman who sounds like a sleeping aid.”

  They both ignore my comment and continue planning my not so distant future for me.

  “So once he finds this witch, what will happen?”

  “She’ll do the spell work and then he can head off to find your girl.”

  “Will he need to take anything with him for the spell?”

  “Valeria is self-sufficient. She will have the things she needs on site. She grows her own herbs, and her house is a treasure trove of magical tools. She is powerful in a way that most witches aren’t. Having a Satan on side will not have hampered her progress to the top.”

  “You see, that’s what concerns me. Can she be trusted if her affiliation is to the stand-in Satan?”

  “Probably more than your cohorts can. If what you say is true, it’s not just us dark dwellers that are economical with the truth, is it? She has no reason to betray you. Not as far as I know. It’s been many years since I have conversed with her as I’ve been trapped here, haven’t I? But one thing I would say is this, Blaine...”

  “What?”

  “Try not to piss her off.”

  Well, lucky me. Looks like I’m going to be dealing with a witch with no wit. Can’t wait!

  Chapter 15

  Cadence

  As the last remnants of my tears dry, I can see that the fire is now out. The light wind pushes any remaining smoke away from the mound in front of me. I drag my weary body off the gravel blanket below and walk towards it. I search the surroundings for anything resembling a suitable urn for my mum’s ashes before I can scatter them. I look back toward the house and see some of the empty gardening pots that my mum was saving for replanting. I make way my up the steps and grab one, returning to the mound of mud and ash.

  I don’t know whether I have any energy left in me to draw some magic, but I see no other way of being able to separate the mud from the ashes. Closing my eyes, I inhale, drawing as much energy from the ground below and the sky above, asking the Goddess to grant me this one last thing. I feel a burst of warmth spread through me and I know I have the strength. I place the empty potting plant in my left palm and with my right I draw on my magic and ask for the elements to pass my mother into the pot. As I watch, I see tiny swirls brush over the top of the mound, small piles of ashes being invisibly carried by air. I can sense when air has done its job. I thank it and it departs. As much as I want to place mum in her final resting place; I know I need to gain a lot more strength and need rest.

  For now, I gently place her on the bedside cabinet of her room. I slip under her duvet and blanket and surrender to the exhaustion.

  ***

  I’d like to say that sleep was restful, but far from it. Recurring images of the visions haunted my slumber, causing broken sleep and a fear of closing my eyes again. I try to piece it all together but it won’t fit. There are bits missing. That I know. I look at my mum’s clock on her bedside cabinet. It isn’t even midday yet. I have no idea what time I dropped off, but I certainly haven’t slept much at all. My eyes feel heavy and sore, stinging from all the crying. My head is a whole new ball game. I’ve never felt it throb so badly. It’s far worse than any hangover I’ve had and trust me, I’ve had my fair share.

  I drag myself out of bed and grab a shower. I can smell the aftermath of the smoke, seeped into every inch of my body and clothing. I scrub for some time, ensuring when I get out that I’ll smell fresher than when I went in. Wrapping a towel around me, I go to the sink, wiping the condensation from the mirror above me. Ugh I look worse than I feel. Then something catches my eye.

  I had completely forgotten about the marks on me. I look closer, looking at the detail. As I follow the intricate pattern, I realise that it travels further than I or anyone else thought. I gulp. Looking down, I see that the pattern has traced its way down my neck, across my collar bone and across my left breast. Oh shit! This is not good. I look like I’ve had extensive tattoo work. This is something I won’t be sharing with the coven. They already know I’ve been marked. They don’t need to know the severity of it. Given their reactions yesterday, they won’t understand. Not even I know what it all means.

  There is only one person that could help and that means a trip overseas to see a former coven witch. This small detail will also be kept from the coven. I don’t believe they would think too highly of me colluding with a banished former member of their coven (not that they think much of me at all right now).

  So many thoughts are running through my head, all on a collision course with one another. I have to really concentrate in order to assemble any sort of organisation to my thoughts. There is so much that I need to do before I can even entertain heading over to England. I have my mum’s business to sort out, I must inform everyone of her death, and then there are all the legalities that will follow. There is also the important task of scattering her ashes, with the only problem being that her place of res
t is currently a charred field and I have no magic left in me to restore it to its former lavender-filled glory. The thought of leaving her in an un-planted pot whilst I am away doesn’t sit well with me either. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t have the energy to organise any of this shit plus a long haul flight. Then there is the issue of the council and their need for more details on my visions and my newly fashioned tattoos. Ugh! The growing list is making my head hurt further. I need serious rest and a strong drink.

  Seeing as rest is elusive at this stage, I may as well partake in the latter along with some seriously strong painkillers. Hopefully the concoction should dull the pain long enough that I can make sense of my mess and make a plan of action on where to go from here.

  After grabbing some painkillers from the bathroom cabinet, I head down to the pantry and pull out a bottle of vodka from my mum’s cabinet. Drinking it neat, I feel the burn as it hits the back of my throat. Hopefully a few of these drinks should do the trick. I avoid the back of the house, not ready to relive any of the horror from the past twenty four hours. Instead, I concentrate on my plans and begin looking at flights.

  I take out my laptop and get to work whilst nursing the next drink. It doesn’t take long to sort flights. Having to take a further flight whilst in England isn’t ideal, but I’m not really in the mood for a long drive after a long flight. How I’m going to find the energy to get to my own home, then to the airport, is beyond me.

  The next order of business is work. I’ve already ignored my calls and all my messages from yesterday, seeing as I should have been in. I call my receptionist and inform her that I’m alive and I’ll be out of town for a few days and to arrange a meeting for the end of the week with all the board members and to just email me the details.

  Now there’s no way I can put my mother to rest at present, so I come to terms with it and place her on the sill of her favourite window, overlooking the view - not that there is much of one at the moment. I will rectify this upon my return.

  The only thing, other than packing, is to get some energy from somewhere. I rifle through my mum’s grimoires, knowing there is a spell for such a time. I remember using it back in college when I was exhausted from all the late-night study sessions. Of course, my mum caught me and gave me stick for it. Using spell-work for personal gain is a no-no. It doesn’t matter how desperate someone is. But my argument was why do we have spells if they’re not to be used? She didn’t really appreciate the question and sent me to my room, even at the mature age of 18.

  It doesn’t take me long to find the right grimoire and spell. I begin to grab everything needed and head out the front. I find a small field not too far from the house - one not turned to cinder and ash - and set out my circle. I take my shoes off, knowing that being as close physically to the earth without the hindrance of modern-day apparel only aids in healing through Mother Nature. Calling all the elements into my circle, I begin. Crossed legged, with my palms face down on either side of my body, I cast. I can feel what little energy I have waning. I know for this to work I need to draw on every fibre of energy left in my weary body. One last ditch attempt, I say a small prayer to the Goddess. I visualise drawing the energy from the earth and I feel a prickly sensation begin at my finger tips that slowly moves its way up my body, making it warm and tingly. I can feel the energy begin to surge through me and I begin to relax. Gaining so much energy and strength is exhilarating. I’ve never felt so strong. This is nothing like when I dabbled at Uni. Before I can stop myself, I feel the energy shift. What I’m drawing on now is not Mother Nature. I have felt this once before. I’m drawing on darkness for strength and although I know this is wrong, I can’t stop. It calls to me like an old friend, welcoming me to take what I need. This energy feels so much more potent, compared to what the Goddess was offering. As much as that thought fills me with guilt, I can’t say no. I know I need this to be able to do what is required of me. The coven would never understand. The more I open myself to the darkness the more I want from it. I have no way of stopping. I don’t want to.

  Fortunately, I’m not given a choice in the matter as a bolt of energy forces my body out of where I was, slamming my back and head on the damp grass below. I lie there, heart racing, catching my breath. I get the feeling the Goddess is not pleased with what I have done, I feel her presence forcing me back to reality. My skin tingles all over, sizzling from the enormous amount of energy I just gained. I feel more refreshed than I have ever done before.

  Once I get my bearings and my heart rate returns to a normal rate, I sit. I look down at the area surrounding me, the wilting grass drained of its once vibrant green shades. It’s now limp and a sickly shade of yellow. Where my hands were placed there is now a black print. I gulp at the realisation of what I have done. Nervous knots form in the pit of my stomach. I did this, literally drained the life out of Mother Nature. I feel ashamed. My mum would be so disappointed.

  I have to fix this! I will fix this. Without even knowing how, I place my hands back where darkness had grabbed me. Hesitating briefly, I pray I don’t tap into that energy again. I close my eyes and send out my energy to the lands I have hurt, healing them, not knowing how or if it will work. Heat radiates from my hands and it crosses my mind that my fire element could be brewing, which would definitely be counter-productive to my goal. I have to trust that my new found energy and power know what they are doing, because frankly, I’m winging it. As the heat radiates from me I can feel the burnt, dried area under my palms softening. The ground is regenerating, and new shoots of grass now feather my fingers. I open my eyes to see that the dead, yellowed surroundings are now fresh and vibrant once more with buds of new flowers ready to bloom. I feel myself smiling, I’m in awe of what I have just achieved and I hope it is enough to appease my Goddess.

  I scoop up my belongings and head back to the house. I don’t linger any longer than necessary. I have to catch the evening flight and it’s about an hour to the airport from mine.

  The drive to mine is uneventful and I am back in my apartment and packing and out the door again without even a phone call. Luckily I always have an overnight bag packed with all relevant travel documentation as frequent flying is part of the job.

  Once boarded, I take my seat and relax in the luxury of first class, a perk of work life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done my fair share of coach before and will again if I ever have to, but being the boss of my mum’s company (well owner now, I suppose) has some perks. Feelings of grief and guilt are seeping in and I have to do all I can to keep myself together. I can’t allow myself to fall apart at the moment.

  I ask the flight attendant for a large glass of rosé. I pop out a couple of sleeping pills that I grabbed from my mum’s bathroom cabinet, waiting for the attendant to return with said drink. Once he delivers my drink I wait until he’s out of view then chuck the tiny pills down my throat, washing them down with a large mouthful of the wine. I finish the glass quickly, get out my blanket and eye mask, and settle into the flight waiting for the tablets to work their magic.

  Chapter 16

  Blaine

  “Stop sulking and get going, Blaine. We’ve already wasted so much time.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was you doing most of the talking, Lailah. I was ready to return to the comfort of my office around the time you children began to bicker.”

  Lailah releases a growl of frustration and pins me with what can only be described as a death glare.

  “Do you not listen to a single word I say? You’re not going back to your office, Blaine.”

  “Yeah, I got it loud and clear, thanks. Just a couple of things though...How am I supposed to leave without arousing suspicion? And when can I come home?”

  I’m met with silence. If Lailah has quietened her mind as well as her mouth I’m not sure I’ll like the answer that will come. A sigh shudders from her pursed lips, but that’s all the sound I’ll get from her for now.

  “Lailah? Answer me, dammit!”

 
“I don’t think she can,” booms Satan from the adjoining cell.

  She still hasn’t said anything. I try to answer for her to confirm what I fear, but I haven’t spoken a single word when she suddenly begins to shake. It starts with the smallest spasm, the skin twitching a staccato rhythm on her upper lip. Then her eye begins to dance as the tremors spread. She exhales, a slow wave of stormy air that turns the room icy cold. I retreat as I see her slump forward and she begins to contort to the snap crackle melody of her breaking frame.

  I rush toward her as I feel the all too familiar burn at the back of my throat. There may only be the threat of bleeding at the moment but, angel or not, there is bound to be blood of some variety making an appearance at some point soon. I reach out to her.

  “Lailah, are you okay? What can I do? Let me help -”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” snorts the Daemon King from his tiny realm.

  I hesitate and withdraw my hand at an achingly slow pace.

  “Why not?”

  Satan snorts before he speaks this time.

  “Because, my foolish fiend, it looks like she’s getting her wings back. It may be wise at this point for you to leave. The process is not one you want to hang around for. It could drain her beyond recognition, but it could finish you completely. You need to leave. NOW!”

  “But I can’t see how it would harm me....”

  I realise I am arguing through the wall with him and turn my attention back to Lailah in time to see her body go stiff and her vacant gaze land on me. Her eyes are milky and I think for the first time in my extremely long life I may actually be terrified. I have just enough time to hear Satan as he chuckles out ‘Oh shit. I warned you!’ before Lailah releases a blood curdling scream, the force of which drives me through the cell’s angel-proof wall and in the direction of the reinforced walls on the other side. As I shoot back towards certain serious injury, I think on my feet and aim myself at the floor. I ricochet from the ground and hit the wall opposite her cell with far less force than I would have had I not taken evasive measures. Well shit! Remind me not to hang around the next time she grows back her wings. One thing’s for certain – if she pisses the boss man off another time, it will be happening.