A Hollow Cry (After Life Book 1)

by Bee Douglas

  “Do you know the arrangements made when a lost soul assumes the position of a Reaper?” Satan muses. He doesn’t look my way.

  I answer him in a shaky tone, “Yes.”

  “It is their responsibility to collect the souls destined to join us in Hell. They are not to fall in love.” He spits on the ground. “They may divulge in the treats this mortal world offers. Sex. Money. Drugs. It is a known rule that Reapers are not the form meaningful relationships with one another, the Accursed, and most of all, humans.” He turns Kane as if on a pedestal. “It is not a hard task. And yet, two of our prized Reapers have fallen out of line, taking mortal qualms as their own. Loyalty. Is it really too much to ask for?”

  This is the most I have ever heard him speak. His brother, Belial, is usually the one to lead any discussions, while the other one adds random commentary. But Satan? He’s quiet, aside from when anger takes hold of him.

  “You can’t help who you fall in love with.” I step close to the princes, keeping a firm grip on the dagger.

  He laughs, toying with the height at which he holds Kane. Turning to me, he gives me a pitied glance over. Then, with a smug shrug of his shoulder, he brings all my nightmares to life.

  Kane’s body plummets down. Satan’s fingertips grow black and sharpened claws form. They pierce through his chest and into his heart. Fire licks out around where his hand is embedded into Kane’s chest. The corners of his lips waver as he drops Kane’s body to the ground. Fire engulfs his body and black smoke rises up. Leviathan and Belial share a look, but only as long as it takes for a mournful wail to erupt.

  Every nerve and muscles in my body goes numb. My knees give, crashing into the ground below me. My ears ring with the deafening sound of my scream. Every statuesque man grabs at their ears. The ground, the walls, they shake.

  As my wail begins fading, I take a breath. In that moment, a rush of energy crashes up through my body. A fierce cry leaves my throat, sending out a mass of sonic waves. My head flies back, arms spread wide as I expel all that energy. The air around me whirls. While my world quakes, I feel the floorboard of the room break and splinter. Forcing my head down, I catch the sight of Death’s minions running. It pleases me.

  Pushing out the last bits of the cry, I make eye contact with each of the princes. They stare back at me with wide eyes, a frightened look on their faces. The crackling foundation of the Playground breaks the pentagram. Their bodies begin to vanish. But before they are completely gone from my sight, Satan’s haunting voice fills my ears: “There she is.”

  As the room clears, I stay on my knees, staring at the place Kane’s body had once been. I’m not worried about the Playground crumbling around me. His name. His face. The way he smelled. Everything about him swirls in my head. Kane. While I stood by and did nothing, Death took the only man I’ve ever loved. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I didn’t get a chance to place one last kiss on his lips. That was all stolen from me.

  From my cowardice to the follies of others, every single what if and should have crashes around me. I should have left with him. What if I had said yes? He would be here. He would be standing in front of me, wrapping me in his arms. A sob wracks through my body. Uncontrollable tears cover my face. Grief. Sadness. Despair. Loss.

  “Nora!”

  My name is called from somewhere behind me. It’s muffled by the cracking sound of the cement breaking and the crashing walls. Hands reach out, shaking me back to reality.

  Willow kneels down in front of me. She stares at me with tear filled eyes. Blood is caked along her forehead.

  “He’s gone,” I cry. Her lips tremble, nodding her head. She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I cry. She cries. But when she pulls away, I take a deep breath. “We have to go. Now.”

  Grabbing my hand, she pulls me up. Everything around us gives in, caving to the depths of the bar. We run on shaking ground. All of her grace has disappeared as she pushes herself to keep moving forward. But we make it out. The Devil’s Playground has been desecrated to rubble. Nothing is left. No stage. No bar. Not even my dressing room. Nothing.

  “Come on. We need to get Briggs.”

  Taking in one final look, I follow closely behind her. There are no longer scouts keeping guard. Cars and people are rushing to see where all the ruckus is coming from. We push past all them.

  Using the entrance that those Reapers had, we run into the warehouse. Briggs is right where we left him. Alive. But he’s grown weaker. There’s barely any color left to his skin. Wrapping one of his arms around each of our necks, we pull him up. He lets out a pained cry.

  “Stay with me,” Willow begs. I don’t miss the way she lets out a silent gasp for breath once she says the words. “Stay with me.”

  ...

  Willow uses the handle of her dagger to break the glass of a car. It’s old. No alarm goes off. She helps me get Briggs into the backseat of the car with me. As she hotwires the car to start, I keep pressure on his wound. There’s not much else I can do at the moment.

  When the engine roars to life, she sits behind the wheel and she stares out through windshield. I call out her name. No answer. Reaching out in front of me, I touch her shoulder. She glances at me through the rearview mirror.

  “We need to get as far away from here as possible.” She nods. “Drive.”

  As she pulls away, I squeeze Briggs’ overbearing frame close. I need to keep grounded. Getting lost in my own mind isn’t an option. We need to get to safety. I need to find a way to care for his wound. There’s too much that needs to be done, but all I want to do is break down and cry. I have a gaping hole where my heart used to be - a twisting, aching hole. Wiping away the traitorous tears, I tune into Briggs’ breathing and the way his body shakes.

  There’s nothing I can do right now to avenge Kane. There’s nothing I can do to sooth the pain Death has caused. I can only save the life of this man. Once he’s stable, I can grieve. Only then will I be able to start accepting that fact that Kane, my grim Reaper, is gone. He’s dead.

  And soon, if I have anything to do with it, the princes will join him.

  Acknowledgments

  I wish I could easily put into words just how much I appreciate all the love and encouragement that I’ve received on this journey. I can’t though. There are no words that I can put together that would amount to even a fraction of the gratitude I feel for my support system.

  First off, I’d like to thank Jay Aheer from Simply Defined Art for designing such a breath taking cover for A Hollow Cry. I never knew e-mailing could be such a pain, but thank you for all the patience and support.

  L.D. - I don’t know if I would have made it through the first draft without your encouragement. You survived all my random texts and unpolished emails. Maybe at our next book signing, I’ll be the one at the table!

  D.N. - Through my years of trying to write and being obsessed with books, you’ve stuck by me through everything. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You’ve kept my dreams on track. We both know none of my drafts would’ve gotten printed if it wasn’t for you!

  Z.G. - I have put you through so much, which I apologize and thank you for. Random ramblings. Late night venting. Self-doubt. You’ve been able to rein in all the crazy, which is a difficult thing to do.

  Thank you to all of my beta readers and writer friends. You’ve all been welcoming and excited about my progress. You’re all absolutely amazing! (K.W. F.W. C.G. J.V. J.E.)

  Finally, to my readers, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for people like you. People that live for the written word and love getting lost between the pages of a book, you are what truly gives life to books.

  I hope you all enjoyed A Hollow Cry! There’s plenty more to come from the After Life world. Keep a look out!

  -Bee

  About the Author

  Bee Douglas resides with her family in a small town in Ohio. She is known for being a professional book hoarder. That's how most writers start out, right? Wanting to see
their own name on the cover of a best seller next to their favorite authors? That's where her dream of becoming an author all began. In between writing and planning her next project, she enjoys binging Netflix and game nights.

  Contact Information:

  Email: beedouglasbooks@gmail.com

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