Diary of a journey through Hell

by Trudie Collins

  “Thank you,” Robert said to Kris when he was able to speak. “You saved my life.”

  “Stop being melodramatic,” Kris said. “You wouldn’t have died. You would have gotten yourself out eventually without our help.”

  “Thank you anyway.”

  “You’re wet and dirty,” I said.

  Robert rolled his eyes at me. “I can’t exactly take a bath out here. We are in the middle of nowhere, or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “No,” Kris said. “You can’t. But you can change into clean clothes.” As he spoke he withdrew from his bag a clean pair of trousers and a t-shirt that looked about Robert’s size. “Help me put up the tents, then you can get changed.”

  Kris stood up and held out his hand to Robert, who hesitated for a moment before accepting it. When he did, Kris dragged him to his feet.

  Before long the tents were up, Robert had changed and Kris was cooking something over the fire. I don’t know where he got firewood from, but I guess his bag had something to do with it.

  After eating, Robert excused himself and went to bed. He was exhausted after the day’s exertions and soon snoring could be heard coming from his tent. I, too, was very tired, but I was happy sitting by the warm fire, chatting with Kris, so I made no move to find my own bed.

  We talked about my life at university and Kris asked me more about Bill. He seemed to want to know everything about him, though I have no idea why. He was especially interested in how we made our long distance relationship work. Talking about my boyfriend made me feel suddenly homesick and lonely. I moved closer to the warmth of the fire, but it didn’t help and I couldn’t suppress a shiver.

  “What’s wrong?” Kris asked in concern. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

  “No,” I said, turning to face him. “It’s just...” But I couldn’t finish the sentence. I was looking directly into his eyes and an overwhelming desire to kiss him flowed through me.

  I know it was just because I was missing Bill, but it still made me flustered and I managed to stammer, “I’ve got to get some sleep,” before making a hasty retreat to my tent.

  So here I lay, writing my diary by torchlight because I can’t get to sleep. I long to be out of here and back home where I belong.

  Day 10

  What a day! I don’t know where to begin. At the beginning I suppose. Well it started off as any other morning, with no hint of what was to come.

  Thankfully Kris did not mention my strange behaviour of the night before. Robert was still asleep when I emerged from my tent and I expected Kris to take the opportunity to ask me what had been wrong with me, but he didn’t; he acted as though nothing had happened. That left me wondering why. Was he being a gentleman by not bringing it up? Did he not care? Had he not even noticed? Had I actually dreamt it?

  I was still pondering this when Robert joined us. He looked terrible. He was pale, as though he was sickening for something, and there were huge bags under his eyes. I was blunt and to the point.

  “You look like shit. Are you OK?”

  He nodded his head. “I just didn’t sleep much. I was so exhausted I fell straight to sleep, but I kept waking up in a cold sweat.”

  “Bad dreams?” Kris asked. He didn’t sound like he was being sarcastic, but I threw him a glance anyway, just to make sure. His face was unreadable.

  Robert nodded. “I dreamt I was back in the quicksand, only this time you two were not around to help me. Despite my best efforts I was slowly dragged down. Every time my head went under the surface I woke up. I could actually feel the wet sand as it entered my mouth. I cannot describe how terrifying it was.”

  “There’s no need,” Kris said with compassion. Kris was being nice to Robert? What was going on? “I myself was caught in the same situation when I was younger. I still remember the dreams. It was weeks before I got a good night’s sleep.”

  Not sarcasm or sympathy then, just understanding based on a shared experience. Maybe this would finally make these two friends.

  Despite his weariness, Robert insisted we continue our journey instead of resting for the day. Our pace was much slower than usual, but Kris was still confident we would cross the desert and reach Famine’s house before it grew dark.

  We experienced no more problems with quicksand, though Robert did insist that Kris take the lead just to be on the safe side, and we reached the edge of the desert around mid-morning.

  We traipsed over green pastures and through a cornfield before we finally caught sight of a small wattle and daub cottage in the distance. It had a thatched roof and could easily have come from 18th century England. It was a quaint building with a garden out front surrounded by a small white picket fence with a gate.

  It was tiny and insignificant compared to Hades’ manor house or Pestilence’s bachelor pad.

  “It looks so small,” I said as we approached.

  “Famine lives alone and has never required anything bigger.”

  Kris opened the gate and we walked through. The garden was large and well maintained. All of the flower beds were devoid of weeds and someone had put a lot of thought into making sure the varying colours of the different petals and leaves did not clash. This was the garden of someone who loved to work in it. There was even a decent sized vegetable patch that looked to be for use rather than show.

  As we walked up the garden path the front door opened and a middle aged woman stepped out. She was dressed in a knee length flowery dress, a thin woollen cardigan and green wellington boots. She jumped back, startled, when she saw us, but smiled as soon as she recognised one of our party.

  “Kris,” she said with genuine pleasure. “It is so good to see you. Come and give your favourite aunt a hug.”

  Kris grimaced as he approached, but by the time he reached her the grimace had been replaced with his usual smile. “Hello aunt Fam,” he said and hugged her affectionately.

  When she released him he turned to us. “Fam, this is Rob and Rachel. Guys, this is my aunt Fam, more formally known as Famine.”

  His aunt? Famine was his aunt? If his aunt was the daughter of Hades, that would make Kris...

  My mind would not let me finish that sentence. I found I couldn’t breathe. I looked at Robert. He looked as shocked as me.

  “Famine is a woman?” he asked. “I thought they were the four horse MEN of the apocalypse.”

  What? We had just found out that the man we had been travelling with since entering Hell is related to the daughter of Hades and Robert was focusing on the fact that Famine is a woman? What is wrong with him?

  My legs started to give way and I had to cling to Robert for support.

  “Obviously the myths are wrong,” Kris stated before noticing my discomfort. “Rachel,” he said in concern. “Are you alright?”

  Of course I wasn’t bloody well alright.

  “You’re... you’re...” I stammered, unable to make myself articulate the sentence.

  “Breathe Rachel,” Kris said, rushing to my side. He made to take my arm, but I pushed him away. Robert had to grab me before I fell down.

  “Hades is your grandfather,” I blurted out. Robert obviously hadn’t made the connection and let go of me in surprise. I collapsed onto the ground. Kris tried to help me up, but I pushed him away again.

  “Is Pestilence your father?” I asked as I struggled to my feet. “Is that why he looked surprised when we met him? Because you called him Len instead of dad?”

  “No,” Kris said quietly. “He was surprised because I didn’t call him uncle. War is my father.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” I felt betrayed. I have no idea why, but I did.

  “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted you to think of me as an ordinary man for a while instead of the son of a demi-god.”

  “Ordinary?” I knew I was raising my voice, but I couldn’t help it. “You live in Hell for God’s sake. How could we ever have thought you were ordinary?” I was angry. Anger helped. It took away the dizziness. “At least the fact yo
u grew up with an ogre now makes some sense.”

  “Look Rachel, let me explain.”

  “No,” I shouted at him. “You don’t need to explain anything. You avoided telling me anything about yourself and now I know why. Keep the rest of your little secrets; I don’t want to know them.”

  “Rachel,” Kris started to say, but stopped when his aunt placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  “Let her be,” she said in a motherly voice. “I will talk to her. You take Rob in and make him feel at home. I’ve had the rooms opposite your usual one made up for our guests. Then you can introduce him to your cousin.”

  “Ankou is here?” Kris asked. “Shit.” The last word was said so quietly I’m not sure if I was hearing things or not. He turned his attention to Robert, who was staring at us, unable to fathom what was going on. “Rob, I guess you’d better come with me.” He didn’t look at me as he made his way into the cottage with Robert following close behind.

  “You seem to have had a bit of a shock, my dear,” Famine said gently. She was a tall, slim woman with shoulder length hair the same shade of brown as her father’s. Looking closely I could see the family resemblance. “I was about to go and feed my horse when you arrived. Would you like to join me?”

  If it meant putting more distance between me and Kris for a while I would have followed this woman almost anywhere right then.

  Famine led me around the back of the house to the stables. The building was quite small, with only enough room for four horses. Only one was present, a tall black steed with a long mane and tail.

  “What’s his name?” I asked as I watched Famine feed him an apple.

  “I call him Beauty,” she replied, affectionately stroking his nose. “We have been together for a long time.” He nuzzled her and whinnied. “And he is always hungry,” she continued, laughing.

  She handed me an apple and told me I could approach. I could feel power emanating from the magnificent animal and I felt a little afraid. He happily ate from my hand and allowed me to stroke him down his neck. Sparks flew as I touched him, like a small electrical charge was passing between us.

  “He likes you,” Famine said. “He doesn’t usually tolerate humans.”

  I felt honoured and told him so. “Why do you have the empty stalls?” I asked as I continued to stroke Beauty and Famine prepared a bucket of oats.

  “They are for his brothers. Not that they visit very often.” Seeing the look of confusion on my face she took pity on me and explained. “Pegasus mated with a unicorn and there were four offspring. Hades gave one to each of his children.” I tried to picture Pestilence riding a horse and failed.

  “He certainly lives up to his name,” I said. He really was a magnificent creature. “And he looks just like a normal horse.”

  Famine laughed. Her laugh was light and musical. And infectious. I found my anger at Kris evaporating. “Trust me,” she said. “Beauty is far from a normal horse. While he lacks the wings of his father or the horn of his mother, he still has their magical abilities.”

  “Can I ride him?” I ask impulsively.

  Famine shook her head. “Humans cannot ride our horses. Only the ‘four horsemen’ can.”

  I wished she hadn’t said that. It reminded me that she was not human. And nor was Kris.

  “Why are you so angry with my nephew?” she asked, sensing that I wanted to change the subject, but unfortunately choosing the one topic I really didn’t want to discuss.

  “I don’t really know,” I said. I honestly didn’t. “Maybe it’s the fact that he had plenty of opportunity to tell me the truth about himself and didn’t.”

  “Believe it or not, our family is actually very private. We do not like to talk about ourselves.” There was a wooden bench in front of the stable and Famine sat down on it as she talked, inviting me to join her by patting the wooden seat beside her. “Your myth and legend would have you believe that the gods and their offspring are all egomaniacs with very high opinions of themselves, but nothing could be further from the truth. For most of us, anyway.”

  “So it’s not true that Zeus would disguise himself and come to Earth to seduce young maidens?” I asked. “Or that Hades kidnapped Persephone and forced her to spend a third of each year with him?”

  Famine laughed again. “No, yes and no,” she replied. I really liked this woman. (Woman, demi-god, whatever. She looks and acts like a normal woman so I can refer to her as one can’t I?) She made me feel at ease, the same way Kris does whenever I chat with him at night around the fire. Before I found out what he is, that is.

  “No, Zeus has never seduced a vulnerable young virgin,” she continued. “Yes, Hades did actually kidnap Persephone, but he didn’t force her to spend a third of her life with him. Instead, they fell in love and she willingly remained down here.”

  “They do seem very happy together,” I said. “What about you and your brothers? Do you have human mates?” I was curious and knew I would not be able to ask Kris. Or his father or uncles for that matter.

  Despite saying that they were a very private family, Famine answered my question. “War and Death were both lucky enough to fall in love with humans who were able to love them for who they are. Pestilence, as you have probably seen, is still too childish to even consider settling down and starting a family.”

  “And you?” I prompted. “Have you just not found the right man yet or is nobody prepared to spend the rest of their life with a woman who causes thousands of people to starve to death?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realised how rude they must have sounded and my hand flew to my mouth in horror, as though that action could make them unsaid.

  “I am so sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “It is alright,” Famine said graciously. “I know why you asked. It is another thing that you have been misled about. We horsemen have been greatly misrepresented by your authors. We are not the harbingers of doom we are made out to be. We do not cause suffering. Instead we help to prevent it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Death does not cause people to die. He guides the souls when the body dies, helping them pass peacefully from your world to ours. Pestilence does not cause the pollution and disease he is blamed for. He turns up where there are already problems and tries to fix them by whispering suggestions in peoples’ ears while they sleep or encouraging the land to try to heal itself. I go where famine is and do what I can to help the crops start to grow again. Live Aid back in the 80s was my idea.”

  “Next you will be telling me that World War 1 started without War’s help,” I joked.

  Famine went quiet. “Actually that one was War’s fault. Well Death helped. They were having an argument that spilled over into your world. As soon as they realised what they had done they patched up their differences and worked together to put a stop to it. It took a while though. Dad was most upset with them and grounded them for a couple of decades. If it hadn’t been for the outbreak of World War 2 they may have been stuck down here for a lot longer.”

  This was too much for me to take and I cracked up with laughter. My mind filled with images of Hades berating his two sons as though they were naughty school children. I pictured them holding their hands behind their backs, putting their heads down and mumbling ‘sorry dad’. Not that I had any idea what they actually look like.

  “You seem in a better mood now,” Famine said. “Are you ready to be shown to your room?”

  I nodded my head and we walked back to the cottage, chatting companionably.

  We entered through the back door and into the kitchen. It was larger than I expected, with a wooden table and half a dozen chairs, an arger, a long workbench with shelves above containing pots and pans, and a few cupboards. This was a well-stocked and often-used kitchen. I guess Famine doesn’t own a magic bag like Kris does.

  From the kitchen we entered a hallway with a number of doors off to the sides. We passed a lounge, a formal sitting
room and a bathroom before reaching the bedrooms. At that point I stopped walking. Was it my imagination or was this cottage much bigger than it had first appeared.

  “I’m a little confused,” I said. “This house didn’t look so big from the outside.”

  “That is because it wasn’t when you first arrived. Usually there are only the four basic rooms when I am here by myself, but when Ankou arrived the cottage created the extra bedroom and also decided we needed the sitting room, though I have no idea why.”

  The cottage decided?

  “And it then created extra bedrooms for Kris, Rob and I?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Famine replied as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

  We continued down the corridor, passing a couple of doors before stopping in front of one. “This one is yours,” Famine said. “Your friend’s is just next door and Kris is opposite. There is a small ensuite, but feel free to use the main bathroom if you wish to take a bath. You will find towels on the bed. The men are probably in the sitting room, drinking my best brandy.”

  I did as suggested, but was really disappointed when I entered the bathroom. After my bathing experiences so far in Hell, I was expecting something large and luxurious. Instead I found myself standing in an ordinary looking bathroom with a standard sized bath. However, it was still quite a long while later that I made my way down the corridor to the sitting room. No more rooms appeared to have been created while I was bathing and the room I was looking for was still in the same place, surprisingly.

  I heard voices coming from behind the closed door so I opened it and walked in. Kris and Robert were talking with a third man who had his back to me. He was tall with short, neat, black hair. Dressed in tight black jeans and a black silk shirt, from the back he was a very impressive sight. But that was nothing compared to the front.

  When he turned around I almost gasped. To say he was gorgeous is an understatement. His face was pale; not too pale, but just pale enough to enhance his dark, almost black, eyes. His features, nose, lips, ears, were the ideal size and shape and matched perfectly with his fit and trim body. His shirt covered his torso, but I could easily imagine the 6-pack it was hiding. He looked in his mid-twenties, but the wisdom in his eyes suggested he was much older.