Everything is going to be alright, Dante told himself, remembering the being capable of freeing him. Any second now he’ll show up. He waited and waited, ever faithful he would be saved or wake up. What felt like hours had passed and Dante’s dread seeped in.
He’s not coming.
Chapter Thirty
Nasma
Anora had done her best to describe where they were at the Devil’s Tramping Ground, but whoever was coming to help, they were still far away, judging by how quiet it had become. Not a single bird sang, not a single cricket chirped, even the rustling of leaves had stopped. While Dante was still passed out, the sound of Adel’s labored breaths filled their ears.
Rip dared not move an inch other than the occasional lifting of his head to see the tiny blond prize they had fought for and lost.
Amy wandered back over to Anora, feeling Rip’s eyes on her, and with each step Amy took, she grew wearier. After all the excitement, she still hadn’t the slightest of clues as to why they wanted her.
The dark green pendant adorning her neck had begun to darken even more. Light from the setting sun peered through the trees, and while everyone was preoccupied, the pendant enveloped all the light in Amy’s proximity, even her own. The light in her eyes dimmed, and, as more light was absorbed by the necklace, the more the pendant darkened. The light left her eyes, and she collapsed.
“Not you too, Amy!” George begged, running to her side, while Dawayne glanced at the necklace still wrapped around her neck.
Dawayne couldn’t help but wonder if the necklace had anything to do with why she had fallen. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that it had changed in color, but Dawayne was the lone person observant enough to notice it for the time being.
“Man, this thing is ugly, Dawayne,” George said, checking to see if his daughter still drew breath.
Anora went to tend to her amour. His breaths were shallow, so Anora lifted his eyelids to see his eyes were darting around.
“Wherever you are, Beloved, come back soon,” Anora whispered.
• • •
Dante laid there in the pitch black, waiting for any sign that he would be able to vacate the dream world. Something has to happen. I can’t just lay here forever, Dante thought. Never had he laid here this long, so Dante, although it seemed in vain, wriggled around. A tiny gleam caught his eye and, for a moment, Dante thought it to be coming from where his feet were flickering, like a candle on a blustery night, trying its hardest to stay lit.
But the light was coming from where his heart was, and the longer he looked at it, the less it flickered. Envisioning himself as a closed spiritual circuit whose energy cycled within, the light steadied, creating an unwavering glow of light. It began spreading, covering his chest as he began hearing a low-pitched hum.
• • •
Rip shook his head, disappointed in himself. He could see Dawayne had been toying with him after seeing how brutal he was earlier with his other men, dispatching them with ease. Laying there powerless, he could never forget what Dawayne had done when he was just a boy, so Rip trusted that Dawayne would keep his word to end his life.
Although things looked dire, Rip smiled seeing Amy comatose, wearing the necklace that was deemed worthy by their Dark Lord. It had done its job, and about thirty feet away, a cloud-like grey wisp began forming in the air. It widened and grew until it touched the ground.
The hairs on the back of Anora’s neck stood on edge before turning to see the mysterious cloud form. Like a rolling fog, it spread. George and Anora looked at the wisp, confused, while Dawayne acted like he had not seen it before. A sharp, blackened set of nails attached to an ashy grey arm broke through from the other side.
Anora and George’s inquisitive gazes turned to ones of terror seeing the Ashy One emerge. He was just as Dawayne remembered, immense but a tad taller than he was in Dawayne’s home. Looking disappointed, Asmodeus looked upon Rip and the rest of the men who had fallen at the hands of Dawayne and the others.
“Never send a human to do a demon’s work,” Asmodeus murmured, turning to George and Anora.
They couldn’t help but stare at the towering being, and their skin turned whiter and whiter with each passing second. Paralyzed with fear, their mouths ran dry, seeing his rippling, sooty muscles and blackened eyes filled with malice.
• • •
Dante took deep breaths through his nose, and with each breath, the light spread throughout, covering his arms. The light spread to his legs, leaving him feeling stronger than he had ever felt before. It spread upwards, tingling the back of his neck, as a surge of energy coursed through him like taking twenty shots of espresso. Engulfing his face, a pressure built in his forehead.
The hum turned into a high pitch tone, causing the entire sarcophagus to vibrate. It was then Dante opened his eyes, and pillars of light poured out from them, shining just as bright as they had the day he escaped the confines of Rip’s room behind the fridge. All he could see was light as it refracted every which way. The sarcophagus started forming cracks throughout, and like water seeking its lowest point, the light filled them, widening the cracks. Did the angel refrain from coming in order to teach me that I had the power inside all along?
Dante looked at his right hand, tightening it. Clenching it as much as he could, he hit the lid with all his might. Dante made a tiny crack. Again he wailed on the lid, and his light began breaking through, illuminating the room. The pressure built in his forehead, and Dante began seeing hazy visions of Anora hunching over a blur.
The visions sharpened the more he focused, and he could see the blur was Amy collapsed on the ground. He hadn’t the slightest idea what was wrong, but he knew he had to get back. The imagery of seeing her unconscious wouldn’t leave, strengthening his resolve. So Dante clenched both his fists and struck the lid once more, letting out a mighty yell as he tried to break through.
“Ahhh!”
• • •
Asmodeus stood there another moment before turning his gaze to Dawayne, brushing over him to look once more at his earthbound cohorts.
Dawayne looked to Anora and George to gauge how he should respond to this occurrence, and once he saw the fear upon their faces, he knew the best he could muster was a cold defensive indifference. So he got into a stance facing Asmodeus.
The Ashy Lord saw it for the ruse that it was and began strutting toward them.
“Don’t come too close,” Dawayne threatened.
“Or you’ll do what, Dawayne? I’ve only come for the Fallen and what is rightfully mine.”
“I see like attracts like,” Dawayne retorted, looking at Rip.
Asmodeus walked over, towering over Dawayne, then looked down at him, Anora, and George. Adel was still very much alive but he was like George, terrified, as Asmodeus looked back to Dawayne. “I see a few of your loved ones are unconscious, and one has departed this realm. Would you like Anora and George to join him?”
Anora and George swallowed hard as Dawayne shook his head, unsure if Asmodeus was bluffing, unwilling to see how the dice rolled, as he had with the necklace. In that moment, Dawayne knew there wasn’t anything he could do about it other than live to fight another day.
Dawayne softened his stance. “Just leave them alone. They haven’t done anything.”
“Huh,” Asmodeus scoffed, turning his back to Dawayne and waving his hand. As the sun began receding beneath the horizon, a dark wisp formed into a spinning ball above Asmodeus’s hand. The dark ball spun for a few seconds before breaking off into six separate streams, sliding through the air and up into the nostrils of Rip and his lackeys.
Their eyes opened, and each one of them shot up.
“Well…get what you came here for, will you?” Asmodeus demanded.
“You heard the Dark Lord, GO GET HER!” Rip gestured, so Anora, George, and Dawayne all rose to their feet, readying themselves to defend her with their lives once more.
Like a crack of lightning striking the Earth, two p
illars of light impacted just outside the circle, creating massive craters.
And for once, Asmodeus looked uncomfortable, summoning a wisp and walking through, closing it behind him.
• • •
Dante’s fists broke through the limestone slab, shattering it into many pieces as the angelic being had done. And like before, the bits floated there, bathed in light. Seeing what he had done, the light coming from Dante intensified, turning a brilliant white before shattering the rest of the sarcophagus into pieces. Getting brighter, his light turned all the floating bits of stone to dust. His rays began piercing through the stone walls, tearing them asunder, until the dream was no more. Dante began seeing the familiar flood of fractals folding in on each other, and then the fleshy hue of his eyelids.
He heard something coming in fast, but whatever it was, it hit the ground with incredible force, causing the Earth to tremble. Dante struggled to open his eyes, but he managed to see two craters as they began to glow. On the edge of his periphery, he saw the wisp close as the large grey being made its exit. Rip and his men ran for their lives into the forest.
Am I still dreaming? Dante looked around to see his dad, Anora, and Dawayne all waiting to see what emerged from the luminous crater.
“Oh, you’re awake! Thank God,” Anora exclaimed.
The wisp dissipated into nothingness as two luminous bipeds emerged from the craters. It all came back to Dante. It was the very same masculine being from his dream that day in the Museum of Art. Oh, how they shimmered. They shined with a light so magnificent, everyone but Dante needed to cover their eyes.
They were covered in light from head to toe, with long, luminous locks of hair that floated as effortless as they did. As they came closer, Dante began hearing a high-pitched tone, but it soon diminished enough for the others to hear it.
Anora, Dawayne, and George all winced. As the pitch lessened, so did the beings’ glow. Dante lifted his finger toward the one they called Michael.
“You’re just as badass as I remember.”
Michael smirked, nudging Azrael before getting serious. “This isn’t the time for pleasantries, Dante.”
George was in disbelief while Dawayne observed, perplexed. Anora was in just as much awe as Dante. Michael reached behind his back, drawing his luminous blade, lighting up the sky. He walked over, coming close to Amy, while the beautiful and curvaceous Azrael went to the aid of Adel, kneeling next to him.
Dante stood up with Anora’s help, getting out of the being’s way.
Michael took the blade and, with a flick of his wrist, cut the necklace from Amy’s neck.
“He must’ve hated it as much as I did,” George joked out of nervousness.
“This is no ordinary necklace. It’s forged by dark magic and sapped her very soul to the deepest region of what you call Hell.”
Everyone turned to Dawayne, even Adel, as he clung to life.
“If I actually knew that would happen, do you think I would have given it to her?” Dawayne asked, looking straight at Dante.
“He had no idea, guys. Just leave him alone.” Dante looked to Amy, then knelt beside her, pleading, “How can I help her?”
Michael knelt beside Dante, sheathing his sword and embracing him. “You need to go get her.”
Hearing his son needed to traverse Hell was a tad too much for George. It had been less than a year since he had his son sent to Dorothea Dix for claiming he received messages and was saved for something special, and now this was happening.
“Umm, how am I supposed to do that?” Dante asked.
Michael looked at Azrael. “She thought you’d never ask.”
Azrael shook her head, walking a few feet away from everyone. “You better hope Metatron doesn’t hear about this.” Beckoning Dante, he walked over, reveling in her beauty. “Hello, young one. I’m hoping you’re as quick a study as Michael says you are.”
“I hope so too.” Dante looked to the angel, empowered, ready for instruction.
“When you get there, remember your light as you did just a moment ago in the dream realm, otherwise you’ll succumb to the darkness. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
Dante shook his head, filled with excitement, not having the slightest of clues as to what the terrain of Hell would look like.
“Worry not, you shan’t need to traverse Hell’s depths to its entirety. Just reach out and sense where your sister is, and her soul will be easy to sense, similar to the way one of your lighthouses would easily be seen on a dark night.”
“They don’t use those anymore, Azrael. They use GPS now,” Michael chimed.
“Shows how long it’s been since I’ve visited. So, in that case, use your ‘Spiritual GPS,’ to sense her, and it will lead you right to her. Reach out with your mind, see it clearly, and manifest it before you.”
“And what happens if something tries to stop me?” Dante asked, more than a tad nervous.
Michael leaned in, smiling as he grabbed Dante by the shoulder. “Remember your light.”
“How do I get there? And how am I supposed to get back?”
“You already have all the answers to those questions, young one. Just look inside and connect with the light.”
“I don’t know what that means!” Dante hollered.
“You will when the time is right. I’d come with you if I could, but we’ve already interceded more than we should…but on second thought.” Michael turned away from Azrael, pulling a piece of white metal no larger than a sand dollar from his side. “Take this just in case you have issues leaving.”
“Issues leaving?” Dante whispered.
“I’ve already said too much. Now take this before Azrael sees.”
Whatever it was, it folded in on itself until it became the size of a tiny coin. Dante took it, placing it in his pocket.
“What did you give him just now?” Azrael asked.
“Some encouragement, Azrael.”
“Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Dante said, shaking his head. “I still have no idea how to get there.”
“We’ll show you the front entrance another day since the answers aren’t coming to you. Time is of the essence.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dante looked to Amy. “So, what do I do?”
Azrael placed her hand on Dante’s chest. “Like the rest of humanity, sometimes all you need is a little push.” She pushed him.
Everyone held their breath as Dante’s face was about to be introduced to the cold ground, but he phased through it, and before he could blink, he was standing perpendicular to where he was.
He had been pushed one hundred and eighty degrees, and now he stood in a land of twilight, surrounded by massive chasms above and below him that were illuminated by an odd green glow.
Remember your light….
Dante looked down to see his entire body had a dim yellow glow.
“Okay, light remembered, check. Now to find Amy.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Okay, I’ll Go
Dante did his damnedest to focus and sense his sister, but for the time being, all he could feel was the cool air blowing up from beneath him. It was a foul and cold wind, coming from the depths of the chasm below, but ahead of him was a slender path alongside the hellish ravine.
Dante heard roars echoing off in the distance, making the chasm quake, so he hung close to the edge as not to fall to his certain demise. Making the mistake of looking down, he lost his footing. With his foot dangling over the ravine, Dante managed to regain his balance but not before hearing many pieces of the black cliff fall into the chasm.
As swift as he could, he made his way around the bend, where he began seeing an orange hue coming from around the corner. Still able to hear the sound of the roars in the distance, he began seeing an infernal flood, a fiery lake sloshing against hellish shores.
Keeping low to the ground, Dante rounded the corner to see that his ears hadn’t deceived him. There was a large, multi-tiered boat making its way down the
river of fire, and as it passed, Dante heard what he thought were the sounds of a roaring fire. But the closer he looked he began to see what it was.
The boat looked to be comprised of the same metal as the necklace, enveloping all light that hit it. The boat had three tiers, each having massive openings, revealing where the sounds that he’d heard earlier had come from. Dante saw what looked to be thousands of disembodied human souls writhing and wriggling. It was their howls, screams, and moans in combination with each other that made the sound of a roaring fire.
Chills ran down his back. “Yeesh.”
On the top deck, he saw what he thought to be the fabled ferryman named Chiron, who was in charge of bringing the new souls to the weigh station. He had been relieved of his skin and covered in blood. Up there with him were thousands more disembodied humans, swaying from side to side in a zombie-like trance. Chiron reached for his side, grabbing something. He raised his bloody forearm and thrust it forward in one smooth motion.
Out came a whip of fire, cracking above all of Hell's newest allotments.
“ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE,” Chiron said, as he went on cracking the whip again and again. The massive vessel trudged down the river Dante assumed to be the Acheron. Over and over, Chiron whipped them, causing the poor souls to howl even more.
“Geez, Alighieri wasn’t too far off, was he?” Dante muttered, looking farther down the river to see the semblance of a building.
He couldn’t yet cross the molten lake unless somehow the light protected him, but he had no interest in trying, imagining his flesh melting.
“Amy, where are you?” Dante asked, looking up to see an ashy smog. An image of Amy came to Dante’s mind. She was in anguish, and in some sort of cage. He could sense her, but he couldn’t focus long enough to pinpoint her.
“Remember your light, remember your light,” Dante repeated. It was all getting to be too much for him. To go from thinking he was receiving epiphanies from on high less than a year ago to being here on the bank of the river into Hell was never something he ever imagined doing. But he was here, and his sister needed his help.
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