Hell on Earth 1 - Hell's Belles

by Jackie Kessler

  I had to get away.

  My bare feet slapped the pavement, cutting the tender flesh. Clutching my purse with one hand and my coat closed with the other, I sprinted. Where? It didn't matter. Away. Get away from the lights, the sounds, the smells. Around me, people jumped aside, cursing and complaining. Those who didn't move fast enough I shoved out of my way. Get away, I thought at them. Get away.

  Surrender to yourself, Jezebel.

  Go away.

  Release your power. Reveal your true form.

  GO AWAY.

  Show the flesh puppets your true nature.

  Someone barreled into me, and with a grunt I sprawled to the ground. Landing heavily on my forearms, I hissed from the burning feeling of my skin scraped raw. Wriggling away from the person who'd crashed into me, I clambered to my knees, then to my feet. As I was about to run, strong hands turned me around.

  Paul stared at me, long and hard. "I told you to stay put."

  I tried to shrug out of his grasp, but the man's hands held me like a vice. "Let go!"

  "Damn it, Jesse, you could've gotten hurt!"

  "I have to go, Paul. Please!"

  "No. Not until you tell me what's going on." His gaze locked onto mine, tried to read the secrets in my eyes. "Tell me. I can't protect you if I don't understand."

  The world seemed to freeze, giving me all the time I needed to consider telling Paul the truth… about me, the Announcement, everything. Bless me, I wanted to. I wanted to let the words pour out, wanted to feel the burn of my catharsis.

  Show him, my core suggested. Bask in your power once more.

  Paul's sea-green eyes compelled me to trust him.

  Trust the man who'd lied about who and what he was.

  Humans lie. Lie to others, lie to themselves.

  They deserved the truth.

  Power, just within my reach. All I had to do was touch it…

  Paul said, "Jesse." The tenderness and concern in his voice brought tears to my eyes. I shut them, trying to make sense of everything I was feeling.

  Show him! Something in my heart stirred, and within me, my power beckoned.

  I said a prayer. I didn't know to whom I prayed, or why. Please. Please what? I didn't know. Just that one word: Please.

  A large hand touched my cheek.

  Opening my eyes, I reached up and clasped Paul's face, bringing it down to my own. And then I kissed him. Nothing passionate, nothing seductive—just a simple, affectionate kiss. Pulling away, I whispered, "I'm so sorry. But I can't tell you."

  I turned to flee.

  And stumbled to my knees.

  I looked up to meet Megaera's icy gaze.

  She floated above the sidewalk, her sandaled feet inches off the ground. Over her white toga, she wore a silver breastplate tooled with a heart and an arrow balancing on the scales of judgment. A silver helm covered her head, shadowing her face; even so, her blue eyes shone brightly, radiating power. In her hand blazed a silver sword.

  All the trappings of her office.

  "Paul," I whispered, "run."

  Behind me, Paul said, "You, drop the weapon!"

  Megaera glanced over me. "Mortal man." Her voice echoed like thunder in a valley. "This does not concern you. Leave us."

  "Go to hell!"

  A flicker of amusement shone in her blue eyes. "Momentarily." She flexed, and I felt a wave of power crash past me, hitting Paul.

  Crying out, I turned to see Paul frozen, his gun leveled at Meg. I reached out, touched his face. Ice cold. No reaction in his eyes, his body.

  "Jezebel," Meg said with a sigh. "I wish you'd come back."

  I was going to die.

  My heart full of sorrow, I gently kissed Paul's mouth. Maybe he'd remember me in his dreams.

  I felt her sword touch my back. Meg said, "Answer me one question."

  I slowly turned to face my best friend, my executioner. The sword point pierced my skin, directly over my heart.

  She asked, "Why didn't you tell him?"

  My throat horribly dry, my voice came out as a croak. "Because it wasn't his place to know."

  She stared at me, through me, reading the truth behind my words. Her sword pressed against my chest as she measured me. Finally she said, "He wants to make an example out of you."

  I swallowed thickly before I answered. "I know."

  "Will you return with me now?"

  Biting my lip, I wondered why she was giving me a chance at all. Friendship? Or maybe she, too, found His words distasteful? Lacking the strength to speak, I shook my head.

  She lowered her sword and approached me. I stood my ground, although my legs felt like rubber. Wondering if oblivion hurt, I closed my eyes and waited.

  The softest brush of lips on my own. Then nothing.

  After five heartbeats, I opened my eyes. Meg was gone.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I touched my face, my chest, my lips. I was still alive!

  Why?

  Behind me, Paul stammered, "Where'd she go?"

  Tears running down my face, I let out a whoop of joy. Then I spun to face Paul, who looked in every direction, trying to find Meg. I crushed him to me and hugged him fiercely. "I'm not running anymore," I said, laughing and crying, turning my words into a hiccoughing jumble.

  He must have understood me, because he lifted my chin up with his hand and kissed me. I kissed him back, my heart soaring. It was all going to be okay now! Meg had released me.

  I was free.

  "Your fault."

  The voice came from behind me, and I quickly placed it. Roman's.

  In my arms, Paul stiffened. "Put the gun down."

  Gun? No. This is my happy ending. There aren't supposed to be guns in happy endings.

  "It's all your fault," Roman spat. I looked over my shoulder and saw him pointing a gun at me.

  That Dickhead.

  "Jezebel, walk away from him." Roman didn't look at me. Instead his eyes burned a hole in Paul's forehead.

  No, I realized, he wasn't pointing the gun at me. Not at me—at Paul.

  "Roman," I said, feeling cold tendrils creep up my spine, "please. Put it down."

  "Move away from him now, Jezebel."

  "Do it," Paul said to me, his jaw clenched.

  My stomach churned, and rage bubbled in me, dissipating my fear. How dare this man threaten Paul?

  "You ruined everything," Roman snarled. "Just a few more years, I would've retired a rich man."

  "You were running a prostitution ring," Paul said, his voice tight.

  "Like that's so bad."

  "It's illegal," Paul said.

  "It's business! That's all—business!"

  "It's over."

  "Oh yeah, Mister Undercover Vice Cop." Roman's eyes gleamed, and I hoped to see the telltale sign of Daun. If Daun were in Roman, then I could talk him down, tell him to back off. But no, there was no red glow, no hint of sulfur. What Roman did now was of his own accord. "It's over, all right."

  He wasn't going to hurt Paul. I wouldn't let him.

  I hurled myself at Roman. I saw the surprise in his eyes as he fired.

  Something seared through me, blindingly hot. My body flew backward slowly, gracefully. I heard my blood splatter on Paul's face and chest, heard his shrieks, and for a moment I wondered if I was still a Nightmare, still visiting Paul in his bedroom.

  Then the roar of another gun, and my body hit the ground.

  This should hurt, I thought.

  Paul's bloody face over mine, telling me something, his voice urgent, desperate. I wondered what he was saying. Tears sparkled in his poet's eyes, their sadness transforming them into precious jewels.

  Don't cry, sweetie.

  Don't cry, love.

  His face blurred into streams of color, and I let that stream pull me down.

  PART SIX

  LUCIFER

  Chapter 25

  Abaddon/Pandemonium

  "My brethren."

  At once a whisper and a cosmic shrill that filled t
he whole of Abaddon, King Lucifer's words echoed in my head, my ears, my body. My groin clenched as heat filled my belly; my nipples throbbed, swollen from the touch of His voice.

  "Many of you have been with Me since we descended from Heaven. Many more of you joined us only in the last few millennia."

  Bless me, I'd been flippant to King Lucifer! I'd jiggled my boobs in front of His face! Why hadn't I sensed who He was?

  "Some of you may not know the true purpose of Hell."

  With every word, His malefic presence crashed over me, drowning me. Waves of desire rippled up my limbs, and I moaned as I felt my body respond to the power of His voice. I swallowed, trying to focus on the content of His words instead of the physical effect of His voice.

  "And it has been brought to My attention that some of you have forgotten what you once knew."

  Concentrate, Jezebel. Your supreme being is soliloquizing. Pay attention.

  "I used to be Satan, serving as Adversary to the Almighty. Some of the Fallen may remember Me in that role, standing at the left hand of God. Do you remember why that changed? What is the purpose of Hell?"

  Purpose? Why, to torture human souls until they no longer contained sin. Everyone knew that.

  "Do any of you truly remember the Devil?"

  I bit my lip, wondering about His words. Some mortals confused King Lucifer with the Devil. They were wrong. But why was He mentioning the Nameless One?

  "God creates," King Lucifer said. "But the Devil destroys. It has always been so. From the moment when the Almighty first shaped life, the Devil plotted its destruction. Life, death. Balance in the universe. The only things that the Devil could not corrupt were God and the angelic body—just as the only thing that God could not influence was the Devil. And so it went. God created, and the Devil destroyed."

  He paused. I still felt His kiss on my lips. Why, by all that's unholy, did He kiss me? No, stop that. Listen to His words.

  "God created life, culminating with humanity. Unlike His other creations, humans were different. He bestowed upon mortals pieces of Himself, giving them souls. He thought that these souls would prevent the Devil from destroying them." He sighed. "Even the Almighty can be wrong."

  My eyes widened. God… wrong? Not that I served God in any way, but the very thought of the Almighty making a mistake was enough to rock me to my core. Some things simply were. Lucifer was King of all Evil. The Almighty was the Creator, the Benefactor of all Good. Such embodiments of Good and Evil weren't able to make mistakes.

  "Creation, from what I understand, is a very draining thing. So it should have been no surprise that eventually the Almighty grew tired. Tired of creating new vessels for the souls of the once living, tired of constantly rebuilding forms that the Devil would only destroy again. In His exhaustion, He considered simply calling all souls not just back to Heaven, but back into Himself. Washing His hands of His work and being done with it. A moment of Rapture, and then humanity would come home. Forever."

  My eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets. No more mortals? But what would happen to the demons without mortals to torture?

  "But I, God's closest friend, His Satan, offered an alternative. Instead of invoking the Rapture and ending all life, I suggested that instead what was needed was a distraction for the Nameless One. That way, God could rest."

  I risked a glance at the platform. King Lucifer stood calmly, hands clasped behind His body like a schoolboy as He spoke. The emerald green of His toga paled in comparison to the brightness of His green eyes.

  "Souls exist forever, whether in mortal shells or in Heaven, side by side with the lower angels. What if there were a place where souls would go for purification before they were admitted into Heaven? What if, before they were purified for God, they atoned for their sins through punishment, in a land of despair and fire? Would the Devil be amused by such things? Would Its attention be diverted from the living to be entertained by the dead?"

  He spread His hands wide. "Thus God created Hell. And I was appointed its King. I chose seventy-two of My closest comrades from the angelic body, and we descended into the Abyss and began the work of repentance."

  He turned my way, and I quickly dropped my gaze. Like a lover, His voice caressed my flesh, dotting my skin with goose-bumps. "God created all of you to help us on this mission."

  I had never thought of myself as a creature of God. I belonged to Lust; I tempted mortals with sex and I seduced their souls. Damn me, I was good! I mean, really on the side of Good? I shivered, rubbing my arms for warmth. I'd never thought that I could be cold in Hell.

  "For thousands of years, we have tortured the damned. Their shrieks filled the plane, and the Devil was content. I wondered, as we did our worst to the damned, how the Almighty could bear it. What kind of God allows His children to suffer so? But I never asked. And God never spoke of it."

  Rubbing my arms faster did nothing to alleviate the chill running through my body.

  King Lucifer snorted in disgust. "But all of our work, all of the pain—it wasn't enough. Look at the mortal coil. Humans slaughter one another on an epic scale. Their passions rule their actions. They steal, they lie, they destroy."

  Bowed to the ground, I shifted uneasily as I considered His words. Other than barracudas, humans were the only living creatures that killed one another for reasons other than survival. They were such fickle creatures, so easily led by their emotions. I should know; I helped them feel those emotions.

  "In the past century, they have created weapons of destruction so powerful that they could obliterate their world completely. Do you understand what that means? The humans could destroy their world."

  Oh. Oh boy. Rubbing my flesh raw, I wondered if mortals were really that stupid. Could they truly allow their momentary passions to obliterate the world?

  "It's all too clear that in the past ten decades, the Devil has become bored with Hell. Its attention lies firmly on the mortal coil, and Its influence is felt more with every passing day. Something drastic needs to be done to keep It from leading the humans to end their own existence on a global scale."

  I heard King Lucifer sigh, a sound filled with disappointment and pain.

  "The Almighty has decided that it's time for a new regime. I have been called back to His side for reassignment."

  I gasped, and I heard my noise echoed a millionfold as all of the Abyss reacted in shock.

  "And so I introduce to you now your new King of Hell: The Archangel Michael."

  No. Oh bless me, no. Not that.

  A new voice filled the Pit, smooth and intoxicating as honeyed mead: "You are too soft."

  His judgment washed over me, filled me with dread. Soft? Demons weren't soft.

  "You are too close to humanity. You have been among them too long for you to be effective in your roles." The Archangel sniffed, and I felt His disdain pour down on me like a summer thunderstorm. "The twelve Kings of Sin and Land will see Me now. All others are dismissed until further notice."

  I looked up, and for a second I met the sorrowful gaze of my former lord and supreme ruler. Lucifer smiled at me, and if I were mortal, my heart would have broken.

  Then the Archangel clapped His hands once. With that resonating sound, I was banished from Abaddon.

  I found myself falling. Before I could get my bearings, I splashed into boiling lava.

  Fuck!

  With violent strokes, I swam up and broke the surface just as my flesh caught fire. Shrieking, I cut a path through the burning water and headed toward shore. Shoots of blue flame burst around me, suffocating me in sulfur and cutting off my screams. A multitude of demons blocked my path as they, too, first materialized in and then evacuated from the churning waves. Pushing and snarling, I forced my way forward. When I finally reached the water's edge, I jumped onto the shore like a leaping bonfire. Once both my hooves touched dry ground, the flames that bathed my body extinguished themselves.

  Trembling from pain and rage, I let out a murderous screech. That holier-than-t
hou bastard had dumped me in the Lake of Fire!

  Others emerged from the boiling pool, gasping and cursing, shoving me aside. Still shivering, I plodded down the slope. Seeing stakes laid out and humans burning on them, I realized that I'd been sent back to the Heartlands. Glancing behind and overhead at the wretched forms streaming from the Lake, I noted that all the nefarious with me belonged to Lust. That stopped me in my tracks.

  The Archangel had been powerful enough not only to banish the demonic but also to categorize us by our affiliated Sin. Maybe—maybe—King Asmodai could separate all the Seducers from the rest of the nefarious, thanks to the psychic awareness all creatures of Lust have with one another. And possibly King Lucifer could have accomplished such a feat; after all, He was… no, had been… the unchallenged ruler of the Abyss. But no other entity was nearly that strong, that skillful.

  And now the Archangel was our King. Heaven controlled Hell.

  That alone was enough to make me consider walking back into the Lake of Fire and staying until my form disintegrated, however many millennia that took.

  Worse, the Devil's influence touched humanity daily, and it was a toss up whether or not mortals would destroy themselves before the Almighty summoned their souls in the Rapture. And God, that epitome of all that was Good and Right, seemed to want His children to suffer even more, just so that He didn't have to bother with the Devil.

  That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Good can't control Evil. They're polar opposites, by their very definition.

  Evil cannot serve Good.

  But it does. It always had.

  Good cannot be indifferent about Evil.

  But…

  I pressed my talons against my forehead. There was a reason why I wasn't a philosopher.

  Feeling the first tendrils of panic creep up my spine, I rubbed my arms. What did this mean for all of us? Screw that—what did this mean for me?

  I found out an hour later.

  "Reassigned," I panted as Daun fucked me silly. "I can't believe I'm—OOOH!—going to be a Nightmare!"

  "Try not to take it personally, babes," he grunted. "It's not just you. It's all the succubi, and a good chuck of the incubi."