The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set)

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The Damned and The Pure Series: Books 1-4 (The Damned and The Pure Series Box Set) Page 35

by J. D. Stonebridge


  Then, he was falling again.

  David was nodding off, his head rolling against his palm. Drool trickled from the corner of his open mouth. He had cooped himself up inside the archives for far too long, hoping to stop the foreboding apocalypse that the thoughts of college and sleep left him completely.

  “Hey, David!” Jenny came down from the stairs; the sudden sound of her voice had David nearly hitting his head on the table. His tired eyes looked around to find his younger sister holding a tray of coffee and a fresh plate of waffles.

  “Uhh… Waffles again?” David eyed the plate suspiciously.

  “Hey, I’m cooking so I get to choose what I make,” Jenny claimed, placing the tray on the table in front of him. “And may I remind you how much trouble you will be in if you get even a drop of coffee on one of our ancestors’ books?”

  “Yeah, I know,” David said, placing the book to his side and grabbing the cup. The mere scent of coffee revitalized him and the taste had his mind springing awake. After drinking half of the cup, he went back to the book he had been reading.

  “Man, I haven’t seen you work this hard since you studied for your SATs,” Jenny commented.

  “Yeah, well. I guess stopping the world from ending is more important than that, so I have to work even harder,” David pointed out, without lifting his eyes from the book of prophecies.

  Seeing the seriousness in his eyes as he read the book, Jenny sighed and set herself back on the chair in front of her brother. She grabbed another one of the books and began to read. The one she had picked talked about Hell and its workings. She had been taught about the misconception of Hell by most of the humans. When everyone thought it was a world created to torture the sinful, she and her family knew better.

  No more than a minute after she had started, David slammed his palm against the table, making her jump. “What—” Jenny began, then paused at the sight of the horror in David’s face. She watched his eyes scan the same page of the book over and over, not wanting to interrupt him. Then, David lifted his eyes to hers, bewildered and wide.

  David, his voice cracking from dryness and exhaustion, “We made a mistake.”

  Chapter Fourteen: Under Sorrow and Tears

  The voices of tortured souls whizzed past his ears as he plummeted. The flames no longer reached him, but he felt as though they still lingered on his skin and his suit. Caelum dared not open his eyes while he fell, nor did he know how long he fell. His arms covered his face and his eyes were shut tight, waiting for the impact he couldn’t stop.

  Rather than slamming into the bottom, he was plunged into water. Soft and light liquid embraced him, allowing him to float. He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by dark water. Caelum tried to move; it was easy. The water around him was light as air but cold as ice. The muscles in his arms began to stiffen, and he knew he had to get out.

  Caelum lifted his head and found light above. He stretched out his arms to swim towards the surface. He pulled back his arms and kicked his legs to propel him upward, his eyes never leaving the light above his head. He swam up, but after a few moments, he realized he had not moved an inch forward. Caelum looked around, trying to understand what was happening. He was not familiar with this part of Hell; therefore, he wasn’t certain what he should do. Then, he felt a tug at his legs.

  Caelum looked down and his eyes widened at the sight of a ghastly creature holding onto him. It had a dark and hollow face with empty eye sockets and a toothless mouth. It parted its lips as if to scream, but no sound came. Its thin hands gripped Caelum’s leg and pulled him down.

  The demon kicked his leg, shaking off the creature. With little effort, the creature released him and evaporated in the dark water. Caelum looked up again to swim, but his eyes caught dark things moving in the water. Like silk being pushed along with the current, the dark things swayed all around him. Countless numbers of them circled around him, getting nearer and nearer. Caelum set his jaw and stretched out his arms to swim again. But one of the dark things wrapped itself around his arm, then another and another. Soon, his entire arm was covered in black. The demon peered harder at them and saw a mirage of faces, all gaunt and hollow like the creature he had just shaken off.

  Caelum flailed his arm, wanting to remove the dark things from him. But as easily as the attached ones dissolved, others took its place. Caelum fought through the dark things, more of them coming towards him. Their voices rang in his ears.

  Forgive me…

  I’m sorry…

  Get me out of here…

  Their voices echoed inside his head, as if they were speaking directly to his mind. Caelum pushed away their words, focusing on getting out of the water. He gritted his teeth and drove away the things as fast as he could, trying desperately to get away from them. The dark things were remnants of souls, and they pooled together around him, circling him and attaching themselves to his body. Caelum weakened, but he fought on. He kicked and pushed the water, trying to reach the surface. As he fought he exhaustion, one of the voices caught his attention.

  It was my fault…

  His eyes snapped around, looking for the owner of the voice. More of them were speaking in his mind, many of them, all moving around.

  It was my fault… Why they died…

  For a split second, an image shifted before Caelum’s eyes. He found himself looking at a notebook set on a wooden table, his hands frantically scribbling something. Caelum blinked and he was back inside the dark waters, the souls surrounding him.

  My fault… Caelum thought. Another statement in the same voice echoed in his mind.

  I should have warned them.

  The plague that took the lives of many, and the vision he saw before it happened. Thousands of lives shattered because of his cowardice. Because he did not believe what Ariel had shown him, and his lack of belief triggered everything. Now he was damned, swimming in the river with the lost souls while the angel who had cared about him would be sacrificed to the one who planned to bring about great chaos.

  I’m sorry, Caelum found himself thinking. His arms had stopped fighting, his legs had stopped trying to push him up. He was limp, swaying in the cold water like a ragdoll with the dark things that wrapped around him as his puppet strings. They pulled him deeper, and the demon did not attempt to shove them away. Guilt was building up in his chest, threatening to choke him.

  Every action he had taken had led to another’s displeasure. Before, he had found joy in that. Joy in pushing someone over the edge, directing their consciousness into focusing only on the things they had done wrong, or things others had done wrong to them. The voices of the deceased and the temptation of their deepest desires were what he used to lure mortals into committing vile things they would soon regret.

  And now he was floating in a river of regret, of guilt. His ears caught the pleas of the souls trapped inside, full of remorse for the wrongs they’d committed, or what they hadn’t done during their time with the living. They begged for mercy and for forgiveness. The pleas threatened to leave his lips as well, but instead he closed his eyes and let the souls of the sorrowful lead him deeper.

  I don’t want to remember…

  The voice stood out amongst the rest, snapping Caelum’s eyes open. He was deeper in the water now, and the light above was blotted out by the dark things. He strained his ears to listen to their voices, and he heard it again.

  “I do not want to remember,” the voice said, but it was a different one. More familiar, and more desperate. “It is your fault. I cannot return to Heaven like this.”

  Ariel. He remembered. He had angered the angel with his tricks and his whim of kissing her. He did not regret the action, but he regretted how it had affected her. Then, he remembered the image in his mind when he’d read Cornelius’ journal: Ariel being taken away by angels with tears in her eyes.

  Is that what you think, Ariel? Am I the reason why all these things happened to you? Caelum asked, but he knew the answer. It was indeed his fault.
Even when he’d been human, he had caused her misery. Because of his cowardice and his weakness, Ariel comforted him and was punished for her actions. She paid for what she’d done for him for centuries, and when they finally met again, he’d led her to be taken into Hell. It was his fault she was in the cage with Lucifer, waiting until she was sacrificed. Her soul would be forced out of her body, and she would be trapped in a jar for who knows how long. All because of him.

  “You’re betting your own life to rescue some angel. Why?” Mikaela’s question rang in his mind, and it reminded him of his reason.

  Because I owe it to her. Because I got her into this mess, and I swear I’m getting her out of it!

  A surge of power coursed through his veins. Caelum looked around again, the dark things weighing him down. He moved, releasing himself from their hold. He swung his arms and kicked his legs, forcing himself to reach the surface of the water. His muscles were weary and the dark things were pulling him down, but Caelum didn’t stop. He fought, quickly shaking off the souls as they neared him. The demon pushed on, carrying a few of the souls with him as reached up towards the light above. Caelum could see it growing nearer, hope filling him. He forced himself on and on and soon, he broke surface.

  He gasped for air, his eyes darting around. Caelum couldn’t tell how long he’d remained beneath the water, and he considered himself lucky he did not really require breathing. He found himself on a river of dark red water. The shore was not far, bearing rocks and black soil. Beyond the land, he could not see anything besides a wall of dark brown-red stones, as if the river was inside a cave. Moaning echoed all around, and Caelum looked up to see the sky on fire. The demon flinched at the sight, and, peering closely, he could see the souls burning in the pit.

  Suddenly, there was a movement beside him. Caelum turned in panic to see one of the dark things from the bottom of the river floating above it. Like smoke, it rose up from the water; his eyes followed it until it reached the fiery sky. Caelum watched a few more of the dark things rise up into the flames above.

  His eyes fell upon a wooden boat swaying in the soft current. It looked dingy and eerie, but curiosity got the better of him. Caelum pushed forward, swimming towards the boat.

  The creaking of the boat reached him as he swam nearer. The water grew shallow and Caelum stood up and made his way to the shore. When he left the river, Caelum noticed his clothes had remained dry despite being submerged in water moments earlier. Some special water, I assume.

  He reached the boat and took a peek at it. The boat was empty, not a trace of it having been used for quite some time. It was a simple wooden boat with the figure of a man with an oar at the head. The long stretch of red river reached farther than he could see. He turned back and saw no exits anywhere above the water either. The demon calculated his chances, hoping in the depths of his mind that Lili had come into the pit with him to point him to the right direction.

  “Will you be requiring my assistance?” An ancient voice spoke suddenly. Caelum turned back to the boat and saw the figure at the head of the boat move. The figure turned its head to him; Caelum met a gaunt face with hollow eyes and thin lips.

  “Who- Who are you?” Caelum asked him, uncertain what it even was.

  “I am the Oarsman,” it introduced itself, speaking slowly. “I am the chaperone of all who pass the river with a form.”

  “With a form?” Caelum repeated. “You mean souls that still have a vessel.”

  “That is correct,” the Oarsman confirmed. “Where shall I be taking you, then, demon?”

  Caelum wondered if he should trust the creature. Strangely, he did not feel any presence from it, as if the Oarsman bore no soul at all. He had never met such a thing. “You don’t happen to know where I can find the entrance to the king’s cage, do you?”

  “Ah, but I do,” the Oarsman said. “However, I can only lead you to the doorway to the level closest to him.”

  “Level?” Caelum asked.

  The Oarsman nodded. “The lowest level where the souls come in from Purgatory. Come, I shall take you to the door.”

  Caelum was hesitant, considering the risks. Especially with that weak-looking boat. But it was better than standing there, lost. He had no better option but to join the Oarsman and hope it would not just throw him back into the water, or worse. The demon climbed into the boat, gingerly balancing his weight on his feet for fear that he would create a hole in the boat. He took a seat in the back, and when he was sitting comfortably, the Oarsman rowed the boat into the middle of the river.

  Every move he made caused the boat to tip precariously one way or the other. Caelum gripped the sides to keep flipping it. The pace they took was slow and steady. He watched the river as they traveled. More of the souls were rising up and out of the red water until they reached the flames above. Curiosity was nagging at him.

  “Why are the souls leaving the water and rising to the flame?”

  “The river drowns them in their guilt,” the Oarsman explained. “The souls at the bottom of the water are those who are still unable to let go of all their regrets and fears, and it weighs them, keeping them in the deepest water.”

  “And those who escape?” Caelum asked.

  “They are those who have let go. When the guilt has been released, the soul rises up, leaving them behind, so that they can be purified of their sins,” the Oarsman said. “That is why the river is full of remorse, because it carries all the regret of the souls that have passed through it.”

  “Huh.” Caelum looked up to the fire above them, watching the souls burn in the Hellfire. “So, when they reach the Hellfire, they will be purified?”

  “Yes.”

  Caelum watched the souls and imagined the voices he’d heard in the river, drowning in their own sorrow until they could find it in themselves to let go. Even he had been affected by the river, the guilt of all his mistakes weighing him down. The drive to set things right forced him to release the guilt, though he couldn’t say the same for those who still remained in the water. Unlike him, they were without a vessel; therefore, they were no longer capable of setting their mistakes right. Letting go of regrets is easier said than done, Caelum thought grimly.

  The rest of the ride across the river was completed in silence. Caelum was lost in his thoughts and the doubts he’d had about what he was attempting to do. The Oarsman had mentioned that it could not take him to Lucifer’s cage, only to the level that was closest to it. He had known that Hell was less a torture chamber and more of a boiling pot that purified the souls to rid them of their sins. If he was being taken to the first level, where all the souls came in from Purgatory, he wondered what horrors he might face.

  The boat slowed. Caelum peered around the Oarsman. Beyond, he saw a large rock connected to the stone walls. It was the only thing that he’d seen in the black land, and he assumed it was where the Oarsman intended to drop him off. The boat stopped in front of it and Caelum realized that it was a cave, the opening facing them. He tried to see inside, but he could not see anything in the darkness of the cave.

  “You may enter through there,” the Oarsman instructed him. “It will lead you to the lowest level of Hell, above the cage you speak.”

  Caelum eyed the Oarsman warily. “What will I find there?”

  “Nothing,” the Oarsman answered. “It is a land of darkness, until you find the light.”

  Caelum was confused by his words but hadn’t expect anything more. The demon climbed out of the boat, and as soon as both his feet touched the dark land, the Oarsman moved away without another word.

  “Well, aren’t you the friendly one,” Caelum muttered. He turned to the cave and attempted to peer inside it again. He could feel the energy of the souls inside but nothing more. A land of darkness, huh? Caelum breathed heavily. Well, no use standing around. He stepped forward into the cave. When he reached inside, there was indeed nothing but darkness.

  The dimly lit living room made Jenny uncomfortable. She was no stranger to performi
ng rituals; it was part of their family’s occupation. But the one her brother intended to perform inside their very home made her nervous to her core, not to mention the news he’d broken to her. But if he was right, and she prayed to God and all the angels that he wasn’t, they were left with no choice but to warn the witch who’d invaded their lives.

  “Are you even sure you know what you’re doing?” Jenny asked her brother, just as he was lighting another match after breaking the previous one.

  “Yes,” David said, finally successful in his attempt at lighting the incense he’d gathered. “Sort of. We followed everything in the book, didn’t we?”

  “I guess,” Jenny muttered.

  “Speaking of which, where is the book?” David looked around.

  Jenny reached under the table and procured the heavy book of witchcraft. She handed it to her brother, who struggled with the sudden weight in his hand. David held the book with both hands, opening the pages. “Okay, everything is all set,” David whispered. He looked up to Jenny. “Ready?”

  “No,” Jenny admitted, but David chose to ignore her answer.

  Taking in a deep breath, David began to read the spell from the book. At first, nothing happened. Jenny’s eyes frantically looked around, expecting something to suddenly jump on them. Then, the wind picked up, diverting the smoke from the incense in front of them. David did not let it bother him, continuing with the spell as if he were merely reading Shakespeare’s sonnets.

  Soon, he spoke the last words and gently closed the book. The Tenney siblings waited, the cold seeping into their skin as the time ticked by. There was no sound besides what the grandfather clock made from the other room. Jenny felt as though her heart would leap right out of her chest.

  “I- Um,” David began. “Did I say everything right?”

  “Your accent was a little off.” A voice from behind them startled the two. Jenny let out a squeak as she turned around to find the red-headed witch standing behind her, arms crossed over her chest. “And the next time you’re going to call me, I prefer you change your method with something that has less incense, or none at all. A phone would do.”

 

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