by KJ Harlow
Stan was out of his chair, closing the distance between himself and Mortimer in under a second. His fists landed blow after blow futilely on the thick glass, inches away from Mortimer’s sneering face. Stan abruptly turned to walk towards the door.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dante said, addressing him through the window. “Remember our little agreement? You join our ranks and I’ll personally help you grow strong enough to defeat the man who took away your Rose’s life.” Mortimer suppressed a chuckle. “Besides,” Dante waved his hand lazily and a couple of bulky Conflicted came through the door, armed with short swords that gleamed menacingly. “We can’t have you leaving so soon when you have just joined us.”
This was not the Stan that I knew and loved. Stan didn’t have a thirst for vengeance. We would go for walks down at the lake and feed the black swans and their fluffy, gray cygnets in spring. Who was this man who wanted to avenge my death?
Stan sized up the two Conflicted, who stared ahead blankly. He moved towards the door and the guards shuffled closer together. Looking back over his shoulder at Dante, who shrugged helplessly, Stan went back to his seat despondently.
Someone – something – else was in the viewing room with us. I picked up my Lucent Gun, spun around on my knees and blew a hole behind the chin of the Conflicted who had somehow advanced quietly on me and was within striking distance. Tracy also snapped into action. The Conflicted that was advancing on her slashed diagonally across her. She leaned back, just evading the attack. The next moment, her Lucent dagger was embedded in the Conflicted’s head.
“Excellent! As expected from Deliverer’s hand-picked by Death himself!” Dante exclaimed. “Would you two mind coming through here? There’s something I’d like to speak to you about.” Tracy and I stood weapons in hand, staring at Dante. He extended a hand and made a come hither motion with his index and middle finger, a friendly smile on his face.
“Agatha, Walter. What do we do?” Tracy hissed under her breath. The transmission clicked on, but all we could hear was static. Finally, Walter spoke.
“Don’t forget your mission. You still have to rescue Tor and Greg. You can’t do that from where you are,” he paused. “Just be careful.” We kept our eyes on Dante, who stood there still inviting us to the main room. Slowly, Tracy started backing towards the door. I followed her, eyes not leaving their target. We slipped out the door and started making our way towards the door marked ‘3’.
“OK so here’s the plan. We stun Dante and Mortimer, giving us enough time to free Tor and Greg. Then we retreat,” Tracy said hurriedly.
“What about Stan?” I stopped, grabbing her by the arm. “We have to rescue him too.”
“I’m sorry we can’t, it’s far too dangerous,” Tracy said apologetically. “Besides, it’s beyond the scope of this mission.”
“No. We have to rescue him. I won’t leave him behind,” I said flatly.
“Now’s not the time to be sentimental, Rose!”
“I’m not being sentimental. You heard Dante. He’s going to turn Stan into a Tormented. Do you really want to deal with another Mortimer or crazy little girl running around the place wreaking havoc?” I hissed angrily at Tracy.
It was the first time that I had pushed back against her. Truth be told, I wanted to rescue Stan because he was in danger, but my logic was sound. I could see the gears behind Tracy’s eyes whirring as she considered my argument.
“Priority is rescuing Tor and Greg – those are orders,” Agatha said firmly through the Light Bug.
Tracy looked at me, her head furrowed with conflict. She nodded her head slightly. Did that mean that she agreed with me? I knew Agatha and Walter were listening so I didn’t ask. Together, we walked through the door marked ‘3’.
The operating theater looked a look bigger from the inside than it did from the viewing rooms. Tracy and I warily stepped towards Dante and Walter. I stole a glance sideways at Stan. He was sitting again, his eyes intensely following my every step. His eyes momentarily flicked towards Mortimer. I saw a flash of deep hatred transform his face momentarily into a mask of rage. I knew he was protective, but this side of him scared me. I straightened my back and looked towards the two Tormented again.
Mortimer was looking at me with a smug smile. He was the man that killed me, but there was something else about him that made him too easy to hate. I tightened my grip on my weapon as I inched forward. I would personally Rid him so that I would get Stan back.
I glanced across at Tracy. She trailed me slightly. Her eyes were wide open and trained on Dante. Her fear was palpable but she was fighting to keep it under control. What was it about Dante that made her so scared? Should I have been scared as well? I looked at Dante. He made me feel conflicted. He was meant to be the leader of the Tormented, but he had actually been the nicest of the three that I’d met so far, charming even if such a word could be used to describe him.
Nice or not, he had something that sucked the air out of the room: power. His height already made him intimidating, but I could feel energy flowing out of him. Death had said before that he was able to sustain himself with torment. Is that why Mortimer looked weaker in his presence? Was he draining him of his energy by simply being next to him?
“Rose was it? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dante said, nodding at me amiably. “I would shake your hand, but it seems that it’s already occupied.” He said, his eyes flicking down to my Lucent Gun.
“And Tracy, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” Dante said jovially, looking across at Tracy. “Sorry again about the other time with… Tessa was it?” He said, closing an eye as he tried to recall a name.
“Shut up!” Tracy screamed. Her knuckles were white on the hilt of the dagger. She had adjusted the angle she held it at slightly. Was she going to go for his throat, or aim straight for their head? The tension in the room seemed to have gone up several notches after hearing that name. Tessa? Who was she? Was that why Dante got under Tracy’s skin so much? Dante had raised his hands in front of his body in forgiveness.
“OK, too soon,” he mumbled quietly.“Now then!” He exclaimed, suddenly clapping his hands together. Mortimer, Tracy and I all tensed. “I believe that we’re all here for two different reasons. The Deliverers,” he said, dipping his head at me, “are here to reclaim their own. We, on the other hand, are here to add one to our own,” he finished, sweeping his hand in Stan’s direction.
“I don’t want any bloodshed. At least, not yet,” he said earnestly. “That’s why I’ve got a proposal for you all.” I kept my gun lined up to Dante’s head. Tracy was ready to attack at any moment. Where was he going with this?
“I will release your Deliverers. You can retreat, regroup and we’ll meet up again later. In exchange, you’ll let me take Stan and prepare him for later.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Tracy dropped her dagger. Her mouth hung open, incredulous at what she just heard. Tor lay still on the table while Greg continued struggling against his bindings. I wasn’t fazed. My finger was a fraction of a second away from shooting Dante. If I was fast enough, I could get them both.
The room was quiet as the proposal hung heavily in the air. Mortimer, shifted uncomfortably, eyes flitting across to Dante, who had his fingers pressed together as he waited for a response from us. Ten seconds must have passed without a word uttered.
“Does anyone have any questions?” Dante said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, I’ve got one. How do I know that this isn’t a trap? That once we’re released, you’ll Cease us, take Stan and turn him into a Tormented anyway?” Greg said, craning his head to glare at Dante. Dante looked thoughtful for a moment.
“You know what, you’re right. You have no idea whether this is a trap or not so as a show of good faith, I’m going to go ahead and release you first.” Dante looked across at Mortimer and nodded slightly. Mortimer acquiesced and glided over to Greg. Mortimer worked quickly, loosening the bindings around Greg’s ankles and wrists. Greg scrambled up an
d stumbled over to Tracy, who gave him a quick nod.
Mortimer hovered at Tor’s head, looking expectantly at Dante. When he nodded again, Mortimer deftly released Tor’s bindings as well. Tor’s eyes followed Mortimer as he moved around the table. The moment he was free, he sat up, flexed his fingers, swung his legs and walked around to stand on my side. I felt heat emanating from his body. I imagined how fast the blood must have been pumping through his veins at that moment.
“Give us back our guns,” Tor demanded.
“Ah of course. You can’t retreat if you don’t have those, how silly of me,” Dante nodded at a surgical table in the corner of the room.
“But Dante…” Mortimer started. Dante shot him a look so sharp that it could have beheaded him. Mortimer kept his head down and promptly walked over to where Tor and Greg’s Lucent Guns rested.
The surgical table squeaked noisily as it made its way to where everyone stood. Mortimer parked it between us and Dante, retreating until he stood to his leader’s right side again. Dante extended an open hand to the guns, offering them back to Tor and Greg.
Greg hesitantly picked his up as if he were suspicious it would blow up the moment he touched it. Tor slid his hands over the handle and raised it, pointing it at Dante’s head. He raised his hands.
“Now now. We had an agreement,” Dante tutted disapprovingly. “Have you no honor?” Dante clenched his jaw, then lowered his gun.
“So, that’s your end of the bargain then. Feel free to retreat whenever you like. If you’ll excuse me...” he nodded in our direction, eyes sliding over the four of us before he started walking towards the exit.
I acted purely on adrenaline. One moment, I was watching Dante leave the room, the next I was in front of him, Lucent Gun pointing straight at his forehead. Within a second, everyone had their weapons drawn. Mortimer had drawn his Ombre Gun and was pointing it at the back of my head. The Deliverers were pointing theirs at Mortimer.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you take Stan,” I said quietly, my gun pressing into Dante’s skin. A mild ringing had begun in my ears. I ignored it and kept my hand still. Dante was relaxed. He chuckled. He slowly turned around so he could look at me while he spoke.
“You’re not much of a businessperson, are you?” He said, his mouth twitching up at the corner.
“Rose, stand down!” Agatha yelled over the Light Bug. “The mission is complete. Retreat now!”
“Mortimer, do not shoot. If you do, that will be the end of you.” Dante warned, addressing the Tormented standing behind me. He looked at me intently, not looking worried in the slightest.
“I’m sure they taught you about us in Deliverer school. Would you like a demonstration?” Tor asked politely. I felt him before I saw him move. His hands had wrapped around mine, his thumb pressing my finger against the trigger. The force of the gun at close range flung his head back. His blood splattered on my face. The ringing in my ears was loud, too loud. I blinked. Red. I blinked again. The red was still there.
Dante slowly lowered his head down. Blood dribbled down his forehead, snaking its way around his left eye, past his nose and into his mouth. Seconds later, the hole closed. His expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me intently as if getting shot in the head was as normal as taking a phone call. His hands were still there, cupping mine. He slipped his thumb to the side of the gun and pressed the reload button. He withdrew his hands and stepped away from me as white light started enveloping me, taking me back to the Underworld.
“Goodbye Rose, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” Dante said, bidding me farewell. “Oh, and tell Death I said ‘hi’.”
He said something else, but I couldn’t hear him over the cacophony of rushing wind and the ringing in my ears as I drowned in a sea of white and red.
Fourteen
I didn’t stumble this time when I was transported back to Death’s office. I almost wished I did. I wanted to be shaken up, to be tossed about, to be jolted back to reality because I had just seen Stan again and he was on Dante’s side because of me, because he wanted vengeance. It wasn’t real, yet it was. I had seen it with my own eyes.
Concerned faces appeared all at once. Walter. Silas. Death. I was being pulled away from them. One hand was on my shoulder and one on my back, guiding me back through to the control room. Firm, yet gentle. I looked back. Greg, Tor and Tracy had returned. The others were crowding around them. Everyone was home. Our mission was a success. So why did I feel like it was a failure?
“…need rest,” came a stern voice.
The ringing in my ears was ebbing away. No. Not her. I wanted Tracy. I wanted to talk to her about what happened. She was there with me.
Agatha stepped in front me and put her hand on the glass panel. I felt tired, so tired. She looked at me with her chill, blue eyes. She said something but the ringing came back right at the same time. She grabbed my hand and led me towards the staircase.
I was falling. At least, I think I was. Maybe I was just falling asleep. I don’t remember how I got back to my room. One minute I was going down some steps, the next I could see a name on the door: ’Agatha’. Why was she taking me to her room? What was she going to do to me?
Suddenly, I was lying down. The room was dark. There was a candle flickering somewhere, throwing shadows onto the wall. I could smell something. Lavender? Agatha was hunched over something at her table. She came over to the bed, looming over me. What was she holding?
“Peace, child,” she said quietly. Somehow those words silenced the ringing. She lay a damp cloth on my head. It was relaxing. I felt like I was in my body again. She sat on the bedside, looking at me with unreadable eyes.
“It is just a balm to heal a weary soul,” there was silence between us for a while. The shadows continued chasing each other on the walls. I closed my eyes. I didn’t like her, but I was thankful for her care.
“Mortimer…” Agatha said hesitantly. I kept my eyes closed, pretending that I didn’t hear her. What did she want to ask me? Was there something that she knew about him, something that would allow us to Rid him?
I felt her rise from the bed. I heard muffled footsteps move away from me. The room was plunged into darkness as she blew out the candle. I kept my eyes closed as she left the room. The door groaned slightly at the hinges as she opened it.
“You did well, but it’s not over,” she said quietly before the door clicked shut. What wasn’t over? Her words tumbled in my mind meaninglessly. Stan’s pale, sunken face swam up from the darkness. Of course. I had to go back and save him. I would find out what he wanted to tell me and stop him from becoming a Tormented. That was my last thought before blissful darkness seeped into my mind and my soul surrendered itself to the sleep it so desperately needed.
It was still pitch black when I woke. Wait, was I truly awake? My mind whirred as it rewound to its most recent memories. I arrived back in the Underworld, everyone was back. Agatha took me down to her room. She mentioned Mortimer’s name but nothing else.
I was still in her room. Where had she gone? No matter how nasty she could be, I still had to thank her for helping me recover. I hopped out of bed and put my hands out in front of me, feeling for the roughly hewn wooden door. There it was. Moving my hand down to the door knob, my heart skipped a beat. What if I was trapped here? I let out a sigh of relief as I opened it. I really had to stop being so paranoid.
I poked my head outside. I couldn’t really tell if any of the other Deliverers were resting. All the doors were closed and none of them had any light coming out from underneath them. My eyes slid over to my room, then to the nameless room to my left.
Oh and tell Death I said hi.
Should I open it? My mind lingered on the thought for a moment. What did I really hope to find there? I decided against it and started retracing the steps back to the staircase that led up to the control room.
Surprisingly, I found it without any issue. I guess I wasn’t so lost down here after all. I ascended the steps and placed
my hand against the cool, smooth glass panel. It soundlessly disappeared and I stepped back into the room.
The franticness of the workers had subsided for the time being. They weren’t sprinting across the room to deliver information, opting to power walk instead. Most were sitting in front of their screens, eyes glued to their multiple monitors. No one looked up or noticed that I had come in. I looked up at the large central screen. It had reverted back to surveillance mode, keeping track of different persons of interest.
I glanced over to the meeting room. There wasn’t any light behind the glass. Was everyone asleep right now? I looked toward the door leading into Death’s office. It was slightly ajar. I would talk to Death and ask him what he made of the situation. I slipped quietly around the back of the room, nodding and smiling at a couple of the workers who crossed my path.
Arriving at the door I could already hear the fireplace, crackling merrily. Raising my hand to knock, I stopped as I heard somewhere talking.
“How was I meant to know that he was going to be there?” Walter growled angrily.
I silently moved to the wall next to the door and pressed my back into it. Something told me that I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I waited in silence for Death to respond.
“It was a rare opportunity and you wasted it. We could have transported you up there…” Death said, his voice tight.
“The timing wasn’t right,” Walter said, clearly agitated.
“Your time doesn’t belong to you anymore,” Death said, raising his voice. “Don’t forget what you agreed to.”
“Gentlemen I’m sorry to interrupt,” a woman’s voice interjected coolly, “but I believe our newest Deliverer has recovered and is now waiting at the door to speak with us.”
Trust Agatha to expose me. I cleared my throat and pushed open the door.