The Department of Hate - A Love Story

by Anthony O'connor

  Just before dark they arrived at a large camp. It was remarkably well organised – a large number of tents arranged in a grid around a central square. Almost like a small town, permanent or at least semi-permanent. Everyone seemed to know what to do and where to go and the crowd rapidly dispersed. The priest led them through the central square. Jarrod noticed, rather ominously, a long row of heads on spikes, along one side of the square. The heads, or at least the faces, were moving. They were awake, some of them were talking. Of course you couldn’t actually die in Hell, since you were already dead. Some of the heads had obviously been there for a very long time. Most of them looked wretched. Jarrod tried to ignore them; he could do nothing for them. The priest ushered the two of them to a small visitor’s tent just off the main square. He wore on his face his usual oily unctuous smile.

  “Sleep well, my children. We’ll talk in the morning. All Hail the Sacred Bunny.” He turned and left, closing the tent flaps behind him.

  Cassandra was in quite a strange mood. Jarrod didn’t understand what had come over her. She burst out laughing as soon as the tent doorway was closed. She put her hands to her head one on each side wiggling them as if they were ears and then pranced around the tent chanting quickly

  “All Hail the Bunny, All Hail the Bunny.” Jarrod laughed and then looked back at the doorway. He tried to stop her, calling out

  “Stop it. Stop it. They’ll hear you.” But Cassandra continued moving about, continued chanting, continued wiggling her imaginary ears.

  “Hail the Bunny, Hail the Bunny.” She stopped on the other side of the tent and then, turning to face him, put her hands on her hips and moved them from side to side provocatively, saying in a low sultry voice

  “Hey babe, want to fuck the bunny?” Jarrod just looked at her, astonished, not quite knowing how to react. Then suddenly the mood changed. She was looking behind him. Jarrod turned. The priest stood in the doorway his face red with rage, eyes blazing. He roared out

  “Blasphemers!” Jarrod hear the sounds of others running towards the tent. He looked back towards Cassandra, mouthing the words

  “Oh Shit.”

  They were taken to the side of the main square with the row of heads on spikes and tied to wooden stakes driven into the ground nearby. There was still just enough light to see several empty spikes at the end of the row and it was obvious what was going to happen next. But not right away it seemed! The priest smiled at them

  “See you in the morning.” The priest and his followers then simply turned away and went back to their tents. Being tied here overnight would be bad enough but Jarrod kept looking over at the empty spikes. He wondered how long they’d be stuck on them. Forever? Cassandra no longer found it hilarious at all. She called out to Jarrod

  “I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful.” Jarrod shrugged it off

  “You’re not to blame. This was inevitable. These kind of people, what could we have done? But don’t give up it’s not over yet.” Cassandra was surprised by this but said nothing. Jarrod certainly wasn’t giving up. He struggled desperately against the ropes, twisting and turning, but with no effect. With each passing minute it became noticeably colder and darker. Before long they couldn’t see a thing and the cold was unbearable. It occurred to Jarrod that if you were already dead there was no limit to the pain you could be forced to endure. He tried to keep a conversation going with Cassandra but it was getting very hard to focus on anything at all. It would be a very long night.

  Finally, somehow, it was morning – he’d been asleep. He tried to turn to see Cassandra and called out

  “Good morning.” She replied quietly

  “What’s good about it?” Before Jarrod could reply to that he heard someone talking to him from the other side – one of the heads! This was bizarre. It seemed very calm about everything. Astonishingly it was trying to console him.

  “Don’t worry mate. It’s not too bad. You get used to it - job security, full time employment, excellent view, and some of these mad bunny chicks are really hot.” Jarrod couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he looked at the head

  “What the fuck?” The head stared back at him, eyes unblinking. It didn’t really care much about anything. It replied calmly

  “Don’t be like that mate. You’d better get used to the sound of my voice.” Jarrod would have screamed at it if he thought it would do any good.

  The priest and his attendants were approaching and the square was starting to fill up. The priest looked at Jarrod with great satisfaction – he’d known this one was a blasphemer from the moment he saw him. The attendants had brought out small stoves and were now sharpening and heating long metal swords. This didn’t take very long and when they were happy with the results they approached Jarrod and Cassandra – eyes gleaming, clearly looking forward to their next task. They looked up at their victims with holy righteous anger and raised their hands and positioned their swords ready to slice it across their victims’ necks and cut off their heads. Jarrod glared at them, rage building. Cassandra stared back at them defiantly calling out

  “Assholes.” Neither of them could believe that it all ended like this. They called out each other’s name.

  At that exact moment there was a deafeningly loud booming sound and the ground shook. The same thing repeated itself and then again and again. Footsteps! Something gigantic was approaching the square. Everyone looked up. A giant burning man strode into the square, fifty feet high, ablaze with blue-white flame. With each step he took the ground shook even more violently. He headed towards them. The bunny worshippers including the priest immediately turned and fled. This sort of thing happened all the time on the Plains of Desolation and long experience had taught them that the Sacred Bunny didn’t always watch over them as closely as they might have liked.

  The Burning Man stopped in front of Jarrod and Cassandra. Before their eyes the flames went out and he started shrinking, changing rapidly into something at least human in appearance – a large man, thickly muscled, proud, fierce. He untied them then stood back. He faced Jarrod, clearly recognizing him. He spoke flatly

  “Beelzebub.” Jarrod stared back at him. Somehow he knew who their rescuer was. He replied carefully

  “Marduk! Thank you.” Cassandra was looking at the stranger with obvious puzzlement. She asked Jarrod

  “Who’s Marduk?” Jarrod looked at her with great tenderness. He replied

  “Ancient Babylonian God. Middle period.” He turned to face Marduk, who didn’t seem overly impressed with this summary description, he asked

  “What are you doing here?” Marduk stared back at him

  “Saving your ass ... as agreed.” Jarrod had the strangest feeling that he knew what this meant but couldn’t quite put it together. Trying to remember, he asked

  “What?” But Marduk wouldn’t answer. Jarrod noticed that Marduk looked at Cassandra with obvious interest – this was also quite puzzling. He knew that there were plots within plots here and he was only dimly cognizant of the least of them. This was obviously dangerous but what could he do. He would find out eventually and hopefully in time. Marduk spoke again

  “I can’t really project much power this far in. You’d better get going.” He was clearly not going to explain anything. Jarrod retrieved the compass from the tent, returned to the square and stood beside Cassandra.

  “Let’s go then.” She replied eagerly

  “Ok.” Once again they set off. The head next to the obnoxious head from before cried out

  “Take me too. Take me too. Oh please, please, take me. Take me.” They ignored it and didn’t look back. Marduk watched them go, focusing his attention on Jarrod.

  “Ah Beelzebub, far too cunning for your own good I’m afraid.” Then he vanished.

  They travelled all day and arrived at their destination before nightfall, exhausted but hopeful. There was a series of low hills and Jarrod knew from Abaddon’s description that on the other side of the first hill there was an entrance to a cave
– through which one could travel back to Earth, or, back to life. He took Cassandra by the hand

  “It will be pleasant to be alive again.” She smiled back at him and replied

  “Definitely.” She moved in closer to him and then kissed him, saying softly

  “I can’t wait”. But when they went over the hill and came to the portal entrance they found it was guarded by a troop of demons – twelve of them – heavily armoured and carrying battle axes and spears. When they saw Jarrod they snapped to attention. Their leader saluted, exclaiming loudly

  “Hail Lord Beelzebub.” Jarrod felt hope draining. Cassandra felt the same. He asked wearily

  “What are you doing here?” The troop leader replied

  “We’ve been guarding the entrance for some time my Lord on the orders of His Holiness Lord Lucifer.” Jarrod knew what was coming next.

  “And?” The troop leader seemed reluctant to continue but, bracing himself for the worst, replied

  “Two days ago His Holiness sent us a telepathic message to destroy the portal. Which we did.” Jarrod heard Cassandra sighing

  “Oh no.” He looked into the cave entrance – but he could easily see it was completely filled in. He could only curse himself for not anticipating this – such an obvious move. He was very disappointed and for some time said nothing. The troop leader waited not daring to say anything at all. Finally Jarrod looked at him .The troop leader waited a few more moments and then nervously continued

  “His Holiness Lord Lucifer told us you would arrive here my Lord. We’re to escort you back, if that is your command.” Jarrod mumbled

  “Yes, I suppose so, where else are we going to go?” He glanced at Cassandra, she looked miserable. She just shrugged. Jarrod spoke to the squad leader.

  “All right then.” But since it was almost the end of the day they had to make camp for the night.

  At first light, however reluctantly, they set off on their journey back to the centre of Hell. It had taken them nearly three days to get to the portal – and it took another three days to return. Even in a larger group they were obliged to stop during the long cold nights. The unbearable cold and the absolute darkness precluded travel by night. The whispers and the shadows and the endless screaming continued unabated. Again, strange things prowled about. Jarrod didn’t think Marduk was still watching over them. It was just a question of numbers. Every morning one or two of the guards posted on the perimeter were found torn to pieces. They were left behind. They might manage to reform into complete bodies, they might not. Even if they did they would just be caught again. They or their heads at least, might be taken as prizes or ornaments by the insane and kept indefinitely. But whatever the form or variation it took their misery here would continue on never diminishing, forever.

  During the day Jarrod and Cassandra walked side by side - sometimes holding hands, but not saying much. Towards the end of the third day they first caught sight of the City of Dis sitting on the horizon. They knew what they were heading back to. Their hearts filled with sorrow. Cassandra turned to Jarrod and asked plaintively

  “What are we going to do now?” Jarrod replied forlornly

  “I have no idea.” But they only thought they knew what to expect. Events were about to take a turn in a direction neither of them had anticipated – and not for the better.

  Chapter 18 – Playing with Boys

  When Cassandra turned fourteen she had a birthday party. All of her classmates from school were invited. Most of them had never been to her home. Most of them didn’t even like her much, she was too strange. Only a few of them were her actual friends but her mother had insisted on inviting all of them. They lived in a large house in Parramatta in Western Sydney. The house sat by itself on a slight hill at the end of a long street. It was an old house and fairly large – it usually felt sad and empty. Cassandra had no brothers or sisters and her father had abandoned her mother and her years earlier. She didn’t get along with her mother a lot of the time - though neither of them understood why. Her classmates started arriving soon after dark. They came in small groups, driven there by their parents. The school - St Christins - was an all girls’ school and there would be no boys present. The girls were loud and boisterous as they arrived - eager to enjoy themselves even if it meant putting up with Cassandra. Cassandra welcomed them as they came in. She was unsure how the night would go. She knew her mother had made a great effort. Her mother looked on - she so desperately wanted the evening to be a success. She had worked hard all day getting ready for the party - cleaning up, moving furniture around, preparing food and drinks. She now looked on with an aching heart - hoping so much that her very troubled young daughter might have just one happy evening.

  Twenty young girls sat around a large table out on the terrace overlooking the garden. The table was covered with a bright blue cloth and on top of that there was a lavish assortment of fruit, cakes and drinks. Her mother had spared no effort, even going to the trouble of hanging brightly coloured streamers and balloons around the terrace. This had earned her a reproachful, though not deliberately unkind, remark from her precocious daughter

  "I'm no longer a child mother". Her mother had replied with a smile

  “Yes you are dear.” Cassandra had stormed off. Now they were all seated. The girls were all chattering away. Cassandra seemed to be smiling as she talked to her best friend Marianne. Her mother idly wondered what they were talking about. But it didn’t matter. Just as long as they were happy and Cassandra didn’t wake up in the middle of the night screaming - as she so often did.

  Marianne leaned in closer to Cassandra whispering so that only Cassandra could hear her.

  "I kissed a boy last night." Cassandra's eyes went wide with surprise.

  "What ! Who?" Marianne was eager to tell

  "Robert Jenkins." Cassandra could hardly believe it.

  "He's seventeen!" Marianne nodded

  "I know, and I ... um .... felt his ... you know, against me when we kissed." Cassandra was even more amazed.

  "You didn’t." Marianne was pleased with herself.

  "Yes. It was quite big actually." Cassandra could hardly believe it.

  "Well, I ..." Just then Cassandra felt her mother's arm on her shoulder. She was smiling

  "What are you two talking about so furtively?" Marianne looked a bit sheepish. Cassandra simply didn't know how to reply. Her mother smiled at them and then said out loud for everyone to hear

  "Anyway it's time to cut the cake."

  She lit the fourteen candles and they all waited for Cassandra to blow them out which she managed to do with just one breathe. Then they all sang 'Happy Birthday' while Cassandra looked on - feeling a bit awkward at being the centre of attention. The cake was soon cut up and the pieces distributed - the girls gobbling them down greedily. With hardly a pause the girls jumped up and started rushing down into the garden - eager to play hide and seek. Cassandra's mother sighed quietly

  "I can hardly keep up with you all." Cassandra and Marianne didn’t hide very well and were caught almost immediately. They didn’t care. They waited quietly by the side of the house as the game continued - both of them keen to continue their previous conversation.

  Cassandra interrogated her friend without mercy.

  "So did you like being kissed?" Marianne smiled back at her, replying slowly

  "Well ..." Cassandra pressed her advantage.

  "I can see that you did." But Marianne seemed a little unsure.

  "It was all right." Both girls stayed silent for some time - looking about the garden, watching the catcher move about and trying to make out where their classmates were hiding. Marianne finally broke the silence, asking

  "Are you going to get married one day?" Cassandra looked at her strangely

  "Of course." Marianne was now the interrogator, she smiled

  "Who to?" Cassandra looked wistful.

  "I don’t know. I haven’t met him yet." Marianne pressed on

  "Yes. But what will he be like?"
Cassandra replied simply

  "Smart, kind, funny, handsome, dashing." Marianne wanted more, she asked

  "What will your wedding be like?" Cassandra smiled

  "It will be beautiful, of course. In a garden, by a river - we'll waltz on the lawn late into the evening under the moonlight - surrounded by friends and admirers. He'll hold me tightly - telling me again and again that he loves me dearly." Marianne giggled.

  "And then later, you'll hump like bunnies, all night long." Cassandra pulled a face

  "Oh, don’t be gross."

  Marianne started to say something else but Cassandra wasn’t listening - instead she was staring intently behind Marianne, towards the other side of the garden. She seemed suddenly pale and fearful. Marianne asked

  "What?" and turned to look. Cassandra spoke fitfully - visibly shaking

  "It's my imaginary friend. I've never told you about him before. I can never even remember his name. He won't go away. We used to play when I was little. Now he just stares at me. Sometimes when I wake up he's standing at the end of the bed staring at me. I am so scared of him." She could see him quite clearly, standing at the base of the large hacienda tree in the far corner of the garden - an ugly little gnome like creature with a permanent sneer plastered across his face, eyes burning - staring back at her. The two girls held each other. Marianne’s eyes went wide. She also started to shake. She whispered