Hell's Gift

by Haigwood, K. S.

  She had no choice but to lower the gun because she was full out hyperventilating. She bent at the waist, her palms grasping her knees as she struggled for air.

  Murry’s wicked laugh seemed distant and unimportant. How could he possibly know that anything had happened to Rhyan? Rhyan is in Heaven, and Murry is in…

  Her panicked breaths slowed drastically as she tried to wrap her mind around something so inconceivable. Her eyes shot up to look at Murry. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but his eyes were still sparkling with silent amusement.

  “It isn’t true!” she screamed at him, but he only nodded with a smile. “It isn’t true! You liar! It isn’t…It isn’t true.” She fell to the floor and sobbed. “Why—why, Rhyan?” There was no answer, and that only confirmed her fear a little more.

  She looked back up to question Murry further, but he was gone. He was gone and Ben was gone with him. She opened her mouth and screamed.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Kendra! Kendra! Wake up, baby!” Adam shouted as he shook Kendra from her nightmare, but when she opened her eyes she began swinging her arms and kicking him. He took his chance and pinned her to the bed with the weight of his body. Her screaming and fighting subsided, but was quickly replaced with heavy crying. “Shhh…it’s okay. It was only a dream, baby. You’re in the bed with me and you’re fine.” He framed her face with his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “Look at me,” he said, then kissed her lips gently. He sighed. “It was only a dream,” he said, but her eyes were wild and disbelieving.

  “Ben,” Kendra said, and shoved at Adam until he let her free. She raced through the door and down the hall, and didn’t stop as she flew through the open doorway of Benjamin’s nursery. Her heart gave a little leap when she noticed Ben lying on his back, staring up at the circling animals on the mobile above his crib.

  She swept him up in her arms, squeezing him maybe a little too tightly, but he didn’t cry, so she just kept him compressed to her chest, and rocked him as she cried.

  She heard Adam clear his throat before she felt him touch the small of her back with his fingers. She didn’t jump, so he encased both her and Ben in his arms from behind her.

  “I take it the nightmare seemed real.”

  Kendra nodded, then turned in his arms so she was facing him. She took in a deep breath, then let it out. She wasn’t sure how much of it had been a dream. She couldn’t feel the comfort of Rhyan in her anymore. He was really gone.

  She tried to talk, but the lump in her throat felt like she had tried to swallow a grapefruit. She forced the swallow and tried again. “Rhyan is gone.”

  Adam blinked several times, clearly confused by her words. She couldn’t possibly believe her guardian angel was gone, he thought. Angels couldn’t die. “Kendra, it was only a dream. Rhyan will always be with you. You know as well as I do that he wouldn’t let anything separate you from him. Why would you believe that anything could, honey?”

  She kissed the top of Ben’s head. He had fallen back to sleep in the comfort of her arms.

  “Kendra?” he whispered.

  She didn’t look up at him, but she did respond. “The dream seemed so real. I thought I had woken up from a nightmare. The house was quiet and your clock said it was after three. The monitor was off and Ben always wakes around two—”

  “He did,” Adam cut in, “but I got up and fed and changed him. You were sleeping, and I was awake…” He shrugged his shoulders. “…you’ve been wearing yourself down trying to take care of Ben and the business, too. You probably just had a nightmare because you are tired. Stress will cause nightmares. Let me help you instead of you trying to do everything on your own. I can prescribe you something if you think that will help.”

  Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. “I’m fine, Adam. Yes, I might be a little tired, but what mother isn’t?” She gave him a stern look. “I don’t need drugs and I damn sure don’t need therapy if you were even thinking of suggesting it.” She huffed and looked away from him. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be short with you. I know you’re only trying to help, but there is nothing you can do to help this. I’m not sure how much of the dream was real, but I am positive Rhyan is gone. Murry took Ben from his nursery into my studio.” Adam tensed, but let her continue. “I didn’t know it was him at first until he started talking to me. He said he was here to get to know Ben. I was defenseless against him. There was nothing I could do; he had Ben and he is a demon. I kept calling for Rhyan, but I couldn’t even sense him. Murry realized I was trying to reach Rhyan and he informed me that Rhyan wouldn’t be coming.” She took an unsteady breath. “I couldn’t wrap my mind around how he could possibly know that with Rhyan being in Heaven and him being in Hell, then I realized what he was saying and he nodded.” She began to cry silently again. “I can’t feel him anymore, Adam,” she said, and laid her head on his chest.

  He held her close, rubbing his fingers over her back for comfort. “Maybe it’s just a glitch. Or maybe you aren’t sensing him because you’re so stressed. Cancel your appointments for the day and just relax.” He placed his finger under her chin and pulled her lips to his. “I won’t take no for an answer; doctor’s orders,” he said, then kissed her gently.

  She gave him a slight smile as she pulled back from him, but she couldn’t shake the bad feeling in her gut. She knew it wasn’t a case of too much stress. She loved her job and she loved being a mother. She had not once felt like she was taking on too much. If Rhyan was really still there with her he would have at least sent her a sign by now letting her know how silly she was being for even thinking he would let something separate them. There was nothing.

  Chapter 6

  Josselyn

  Josselyn rubbed at her temples. She felt like screaming; no, she felt like popping to Kendra Chamberlain’s kitchen to personally slip a couple of sleeping pills in her drink.

  She winced as Kendra shouted in her mind again. It had been non-stop since the woman had woken from the nightmare. It was, in fact, a nightmare; Murry hadn’t really visited her, but it was Kendra’s intuition or her strong bond with Rhyan that had led her to believe he was no longer with her, hence bringing on a bad dream that flat out told her the truth about where he was. And to Josselyn’s disappointment Kendra believed it and was demanding answers.

  And Josselyn could tell the girl wasn’t going to give up until Rhyan or someone answered her cries. She had been jumpy and paranoid all morning, looking over her shoulder at every little noise, never getting more than arm’s reach from Benjamin.

  Josselyn was seriously beginning to worry the girl would throw herself into a heart attack. But then she would be unconscious and not shouting in her head for Rhyan to answer her, so…

  Josselyn shook her head, ashamed by her thoughts. She was surprised she could even hear her own thoughts over Kendra’s mental racket.

  Kendra deserved answers. Anyone that had seen what she’d been forced to see merited some sort of response to her pleas. Kendra already knew about guardians, so she didn’t see the problem in contacting her.

  Still, as yet, the request to have a meeting with her new charge had been denied by the guardians. They didn’t see how telling Kendra would help the situation; they feared it would only upset her further.

  She allowed her thoughts to drift to Rhyan, and painfully wondered what he must be going through at that moment. A tear escaped her eye; must have been the hundredth one she’d cried for him, and she was certain there would be many more.

  She knew the knock would come before Malcolm even tapped on the door. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? None of this was his problem. She huffed, then growled out her frustration with a simple word, “What?”

  “I have an idea,” he said.

  Chapter 7

  Rhyan

  The visibility was only at about 5% as I glanced out from under the bridge Pogo had led us to. I couldn’t see three feet past the bridge’s opening because of the thick aci
d-ash that fell like huge flakes in a snow storm. The gray sky had darkened like night had fallen. I wasn’t quite sure why that had happened. I mean, it wasn’t like Hell was a planet that revolved around a Sun. The environment confused me immensely. I had a lot to learn about my new home.

  I could feel a slight burn in my lungs every time I was forced to take in a breath. There was no way to get away from the acid ash from what I’d noticed of my surroundings, and the stuff was floating in the air. Even the small huts in the village we’d walked through after I found my door had holes in the walls big enough a small animal or large rodent could climb through easily enough.

  Our little cranny under the bridge appeared inhabited. And with the way Pogo had made himself at home with the few necessities a homeless person would have acquired, I’d come to the conclusion it was his home. No doors, no privacy; I choked back the urge to ask him how he could possibly live like that. It wasn’t any of my business how he preferred to live. I knew I wasn’t going to.

  It was definitely Hell, but there had to be a way to live better. The demon woman that had kindly deposited my assets on the ground for me, seemed to be getting along better than any of the others I’d come across. I was almost positive Pogo didn’t have a black satin Grim Reaper’s cape stashed away in the trash he was using as a makeshift bed.

  I glanced over at my temporary roommate, snuggled deep in a tattered sleeping bag that looked to be made of the acid resistant material. “You sleep here?”

  One eye opened lazily and he responded, “It appears that way, doesn’t it? I’d share, but the space is limited. You will have to make do with the ground until you can collect enough stuffing to make your own.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying hard to fight off what I was sure humans called a migraine. “No, what I meant was I haven’t slept in over three centuries; I never tired while in Heaven. I was asking if you, demons, sleep here, in Hell?” But as I said the last word I found I was yawning.

  “I’m not a demon. I’m a minion.” Pogo chuckled lightly and closed his eyes.

  I sighed as I glanced down at my filthy hands and body. That woman had done a real number on me earlier. I didn’t have any other clothes to change into, and my shirt was in shreds from being skidded across the cobblestone. My skin tingled slightly where the acid-filled dirt was caked on my flesh. The tiny scrapes had yet to meliorate and I wondered how long the healing process would take. Kendra’s minor cuts and bruises recovered within a few days, but this wasn’t Earth. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact.

  Pogo was already snoring softly as I trudged through the muck to the stream that ran not ten feet from his bed. I needed to at least get cleaned up.

  I knelt down to wash my face first. The cloudy slough wasn’t very wide, only about fifteen feet across, but still wide enough to require a bridge for crossing, if there was even a reason to traverse to the other side.

  My torn sleeve fell to the water before the flesh of my fingers touched it. A white smoke arose from the creek and the material disintegrated on contact. The fabric continued to be eaten away and was quickly making its way to my hide. Terrified, I shouted and fell to my back, struggling to free myself of the cloth before I was eaten alive by some invisible parasite.

  The commotion awoke Pogo. He sat upright in his sleeping arrangement. “That ain’t water!” he shouted with wide eyes.

  I tried to control the heavy, fast breathing through my nostrils, but at the moment getting back into Heaven would have been an easier task to take on. I glared at him. “That information would have been useful before you went to sleep, Pogo!” I ran my fingers through my hair and forced calm and reason into my mind before I did something stupid, like picking Pogo up and tossing him as far out into the acid blizzard as I could.

  He seemed to sense my irritation with him and pulled the sleeping bag up around his throat. It couldn’t have been the fire in my eyes or the threat in the tone of my voice. No, it wouldn’t have been that at all.

  I took a controlled breath and glared at him through narrowed eyes. “You will not sleep until you give me some answers. Now, start talking.”

  Pogo was shaking. The sleeping bag slipped from his arms, making the sores on his flesh evident to me for the first time.

  “I’m not going to hurt you!” I chided, then lowered my voice when he slinked down farther into the bag. “Just please tell me a little of what to expect before I get hurt. You said you would help me, but all you’ve really done is sit back and watch me make a fool of myself.” I turned from him and began to pace. Seriously, I was better off on my own.

  “I’m sorry,” Pogo said in a quiet voice. “I guess I just assumed you would already know the creek was acid since it constantly falls from the sky here.”

  Jesus. Of course a stream in Hell would be acid instead of water. What the Hell was I thinking? Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t! I scolded myself for my carelessness. I really needed to start paying better attention. I was never going to figure a way out at this rate.

  I cleared my throat and sat with my back up against a column of stones holding the bridge in place. A wind had picked up and it had started blowing the acid ash up under the bridge. There really was no escaping the stuff. I looked at my fingers, blistered from touching the ashes earlier. The affected area was a few shades darker.

  “It’s the sores,” Pogo said, noticing my confusion. When I only looked up at him he continued. “The acid causes the sores and, because we have no water or anything sterile to clean the wounds, they get infected. You will suffer from boils, too. There really ain’t a way to prevent them. We got no way to clean ourselves.” He pulled his arm from the sleeping bag to give me a better look.

  I winced. I couldn’t help it. And I had to admit it scared the hell out of me that I was going to look the same soon. I cleared my throat again; there was a consistent irritation down my throat and into my lungs. Getting used to it wasn’t going to happen. “Who was Death?” I asked nodding my head toward the blizzard, and instantly wondered if I would get the truth.

  Pogo’s brow popped up and he glanced around shiftily. It was obvious talk of the woman made him nervous.

  I couldn’t say that I blamed him. If she could knock me ten yards off my feet, I could only guess what she would do to someone as frail as Pogo if he got in her way. I’d imagine the people here didn’t talk to Death the way that I had. It seemed to even confuse Death herself, I thought, and a slight smile tugged the corner of my mouth upward. It was a good thing to confuse Death. I planned to make a habit of it.

  Pogo began, but it was barely more than a whisper, so I had to lean closer to be able to hear him. “She causes this to happen to us.”

  One of my eyebrows rose in interest. “I’d always thought Lucifer had different plumbing. His voice sounded a little feminine to me,” I joked.

  “Shhh,” Pogo said, and put his finger to his cracked lips in an attempt to shut me up. “Don’t talk about—”

  “What? Don’t talk about what? Lucifer? Or his little pawns that kiss his feet?” I stood, my whole body shaking from the sudden burst of anger filling my bones. I wasn’t there to bow before God’s favorite fallen angel. He had been in my shoes once upon a time, and his actions had cost him the very same mine cost me, a swift kick right out of Heaven. I wasn’t afraid of Lucifer or any of his demon minions.

  “Sit…” Pogo started shakily, then gasped in terror and shrank back against his headboard of stones. Soft whimpers involuntarily escaped his dry lips. His teeth chattered in time with the bones of his knees knocking together under the sleeping bag. It was beginning to have a very unique reggae sound to it. His actions puzzled me until I followed his gaze out into the acid blizzard.

  A familiar figure stood drabbed in black satin right outside the vast opening of Pogo’s lodging. I knew who it was and I wasn’t afraid of her. Although I guess I should have been, considering the way things ended the last time we’d met. My body still ached from the single blow she’d
gifted me with. What I did feel was anger, and I itched to re-gift. But it wasn’t the time or the place. Death had a few advantages over me; she had a cloak of protection from the acid ash, which I did not. Her powers were advanced and impressive; mine were now nonexistent. And this was her playground. She had the home field advantage, and it appeared that I was just beginning to learn the game.

  I cleared my throat uncomfortably when she only stood there staring at me and Pogo. The tempo of the bone chattering had picked up considerably by this point. “Can I help you?” I asked. “It’s rather rude to lurk in doorways…or stare at people.”

  “Have you not been informed where you are, boy?” she said.

  My back molars immediately clenched shut in irritation. “I know where I am. You didn’t catch me knocking on your door demanding answers, now, did you, sweetheart?”

  I watched as the form under the black fabric went totally still, and knew she hadn’t liked my pet name for her, either. I didn’t try to hide my gloating smile.

  She took a step forward, then another. I lost my grin, but I didn’t bother backing up. If she wanted to hurt me she would do it regardless of whether I cowered or stood my ground. I hadn’t ever been gutless, and had absolutely no intention of tripping and falling into the pool of spineless cowards now. I could handle her, powers or not. I had my own bag of tricks I was sure she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  Abigail

  Abigail assessed the newcomer carefully. This one actually thought his balls were big enough to compete with her still. How exciting. She smiled as nailing said balls to the trophy wall with the others in her collection came to mind. Maybe she would let him keep them for a while longer. She found his arrogance stimulating and entertaining, to say the least.

  He stood before her with his chest puffed up and his chin slightly elevated. She admired his courage, and idly wondered if perhaps there was a mistake in him falling into her syde. She imagined by his attitude that he would fit better in Velan’s Syde of Pride. But from his well-sculpted, near perfect body she could also imagine him in the Syde of Lust with Thoros. And those eyes…