Hellbound (Hellbound Trilogy Book 1)

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Hellbound (Hellbound Trilogy Book 1) Page 13

by Tim Hawken


  I was now at the crest of the hill and standing at the bottom of the serpent-filled tree. I reached out to touch it and a snake’s head shot out at my hand, hissing and spitting venom. I leapt back as its fangs snapped shut over where my hand had just been. I looked down the hill, where I was sure I could see Satan rolling on the ground in fits of laughter. At least someone was enjoying this.

  I tentatively reached forward again and another snake lunged at me, this time at my face. I caught it by the throat just before its teeth could clamp over my nose. Poison dripped from its fangs and onto the grass at my feet, which shriveled black as the venom touched. I squeezed my fist together and broke the serpent’s neck. It popped inside my palm like a packet of chips. If I could do that a few thousand more times, maybe I’d have a chance at scaling the tree and getting the fleece.

  I stopped to think what I could do to get rid of those cursed snakes. I had nothing. I began to think that maybe I should try the second part of my goal first and worry about the fleece later. I searched around the base of the tree and soon saw Phineus’ eyes looking up at me. They were planted among the roots, which spread out along the ground like pulsing veins. The eyes looked as if they were growing from the ground, two all seeing mushrooms rooted in the earth, pupils and cornea sitting in the centre of the bulbs at the top.

  I cleared the grass from around the eyes, and bent down to see if I could pick them up. As soon as my fingers touched the closest one, a jolt of electricity flowed through my body and I was thrown clear, thumping to the ground six feet away from where I’d been standing. I struggled back to my feet and looked back at the air smoking around Phineus’ eyes. It wisped up into the sky toward the fleece high in the branches. I shoved my fingers in my mouth and sucked on their charred ends. The smell of burnt hair filled my nostrils. I watched in surprise as the smoke swirled up into the air and gathered around the fleece. Snakes parted from wherever the black fog hung about the tree! As the smoke cleared, the snakes returned with renewed vigor and swarmed where there had been none, covering every inch of the white tree once more. Seeing the reaction of the snakes toward the smoke, I had an idea of how I could retrieve the fleece from the branches above.

  I walked once again to where Phineus’ eyes sat growing from the earth. I looked around me and found a rotting branch lying on the ground. Lifting it with my uninjured hand, I touched it to the eyes. It exploded, igniting into blue flames. I held the branch before me, at arm’s length, as smoke poured from the fire that had engulfed the top end, like a torch. I waved it toward the snakes and once again they parted and slithered to the far ends of the tree they inhabited. I moved closer still, wedged the kindling into the lowest fork of the tree and started to climb. Each branch I got to, I waved smoke around in the air to part snakes and wedged my torch in a higher branch. As my feet left each limb, snakes closed around it and seethed where my shoes had been. Slowly I made my way to the top level of the tree closest to the fleece.

  Snakes poured from knots in braches, but fled as soon as I waved my fiery weapon toward them. I edged my way out toward where the fleece hung and stretched out, snagging it between my outstretched fingers then pulled it in, holding it tight to my chest. I had it! The branch I was perching on creaked menacingly. I froze. Looking down I saw the grassy earth far below; it looked soft enough, but at this height a fall would surely splinter every bone in my body to toothpicks. I slid cautiously back toward the safety of the main braches, when the worst thing possible happened. My torch went out.

  fifteen

  SMOKE STILL STREAMED FROM THE TIP of the branch in my hand but the snakes, seeing that the flame had been extinguished, began to group around me. They hissed, flicking their tongues, no longer afraid of the smoke that had no flame to burn. I waved my weapon frantically in every direction. The serpents backed off briefly, but surged forward again as soon at the smoldering branch left their immediate space. As I swung the useless torch in one last circle, the limb holding me creaked again. The creak turned into a sickening crack, and I fell towards the ground as it gave way beneath me. Plummeting downward, I smashed and crashed into each appendage on the way, my ribs splitting like twigs, wood shattering under the momentum of my fall. The final bough broke beneath me and I tumbled to the ground with a mighty thud and rolled groaning, broken and bleeding. My ears, nose and mouth seeped death as I lay there, clutching the Golden Fleece.

  I had no wind left in me. I wheezed and coughed blood as I quivered on the ground, a broken mess of mashed bones and burst organs. I rolled onto my back panting and lay looking up at the wreckage above me. The tree instantly began to knit itself back together, the snakes carrying broken branches back up the trunk to where they belonged. As the tree healed itself, I could feel my body knitting together as well. Phineus was right: “Nothing dies in Hell, Michael,” he had said. Nothing dies, but everything hurt! My bones crunched as they mended themselves, my organs swelled with blood and began to pump once more, resuming normal function, but exuded throbbing, excruciating pain all through my body. The blood flowing from my ears and nose congealed, and I stopped bleeding. I still didn’t move. I just lay there, gathering my wits and my breath.

  I was only half way there. I had the fleece, but how would I get the eyes, Phineus’ eyes? I sat up painfully and looked at the fleece in my hands, shiny and golden yet soft and warm. I would have to think laterally to get those eyes from the ground. I would have to do as Phineus had taught me. My mind ticked. I could solve this dilemma. The Devil’s words echoed in my mind. “They can only be lifted from the ground by the virtuous of heart. Only someone with clarity of spirit, a clean soul can touch their vile jelly…”

  Three words stood out to me in what he had said: virtuous, clarity, clean. Another word sprang to mind that matched those words of The Devil: purity. Only something truly pure could touch the eyes and lift them from their resting place. I looked again at the fleece resting in my hands, pure gold and pure wool. This was a symbol of absolute purity before me. This was what I would use to pluck the eyes from this demon’s hill! I climbed to my feet and stumbled to the base of the tree again. I threw the fleece over the eyes. No sparks, no smoke, nothing. I was right. I felt gently through the fleece for my prize and, grasping them from the base, plucked them from the earth and wrapped them in my new golden blanket. Slinging my bundle like a sack over my shoulder, I marched in triumph back down the hill to Satan, who stood, arms crossed, at the base of the grassy knoll, waiting for my return.

  “Took your time,” he said sourly, his face screwed up into a ball of frustration.

  Satan turned and stomped back up the onyx pathway, towards where we had first entered his treasury. As he walked up the hill, his body grew foggy. Like a ghost in the dark he faded to nothing before me. I sprinted to where he had been, but only thin wisps of moisture hung in the air where he had once stood solid. I yelled his name but there was no response. I looked around frantically for an exit; there was none. Would he leave me here to rot, I wondered. Was he so angry about me taking Phineus’ eyes and the fleece? He needed me to find Gideon’s secret. Suddenly, I was struck on the head with a heavy blow. I stumbled and almost fell as I looked around to see where the attack had come from. Again I was hit, this time in the stomach, by an invisible enemy. I bent and twisted, trying to dodge my phantom attacker, but it pressed on, striking me from all sides. I heard he Devil growling in my ear, but I could not see him. I fell to the ground as I was pummeled senseless by poltergeist fists. I began to lose consciousness and everything went dark.

  There was someone yelling in my ear. “Michael, wake up, Michael! We have to leave, we are no longer welcome!”

  I was being shaken as I lay hurting on the ground. I forced my eyes open to see Smithy’s wrinkled face looking at me. He smiled briefly when he saw I had woken. A dream, I thought, was it all a dream? I looked down and saw the Golden Fleece still wrapped in my arms.

  “Michael!” Smithy shouted, jolting me back to the present. “We have to go. S
atan has said we must go at once, or he’ll let Moloch loose on us again. What did you do to make him so angry?”

  “I won this from him,” I said showing him the fleece. His eyes went wide as he noticed it for the first time, cradled in my arms.

  “No wonder he’s so furious!” Smithy said, “I remember what he went through to get that when I was in his employ. It was the last time he ever went to Satan’s Demise. I’m sure he didn’t give it up easily.”

  The pain wracking every fiber in my body was testament to that, but I chose to remain silent on the subject. Instead all I said was, “Let’s get out of here!”

  Smithy sprang to his feet and dragged me up with him.

  “Follow me!” he said and darted out of the library we were in. I pursued him through the art-lined passages and burst out of a side door into the sweltering heat of Hell. Smithy’s helicopter sat ahead, repaired and polished. We wasted no time and climbed aboard. Smithy fired up the engines. The blades whirred and we lifted off into the air.

  “If I never see this damned place again it will be too soon!” Smithy yelled as we surged down the mountain back towards his airfield, looking behind us the whole way for The Devil’s red dragon. Thankfully, we saw nothing of him.

  “I didn’t get to gather any intelligence on the mission. Sorry, Sir,” Smithy said gravely as we as we touched down. “I was consumed with my haunting of guilt while you were gone. I’ve failed you, Sir.” He hung his head and pulled the money I’d paid him from out of his pocket and handed it back to me. This was really a noble man. I couldn’t believe he deserved to be trapped down in Hell. I handed the notes back to him, smiling.

  “You did more than your share of work for the mission, Smithy. I got what I came for,” I said, holding up the fleece. His worried look turned back to a friendly smile as I beamed at him.

  “I’m glad you succeeded, Sir,” he said and we climbed down from the chopper and walked back to his office.

  Mack sat on a chair leaning against the outside wall of Smithy’s shed. His feet rested on the bonnet of his taxi as he read a newspaper called Hell’s Clarion. He folded the paper down as we approached, and looked over the top.

  “Hi boys, I hope you had fun up there!” he said, lazily climbing to his feet. “You get what you want?”

  I patted my bundle in answer. He let a low whistle escape from his teeth as he saw the glitter of gold in my hands.

  “Well then, buddy, you’ll be wanting to go somewhere else, I suppose?” he asked.

  “To Satan’s Demise,” I replied.

  part three:

  Satan’s Demise

  one

  “YOU’VE GOT TO BE BLOODY JOKING, wanting to go to Satan’s Demise!” Mack said, in shock.

  “No joke,” I said. “You can’t handle a simple cab fare downtown? I thought you were a tough guy, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “But it’s Satan’s Demise!” he stammered, before pulling himself together. “Well, I guess it’s not that bad,” he said in a deliberately deep voice. “Jump in and I’ll have you there in two shakes of a rattle-snake’s tail.” I shuddered at the mention of snakes and turned to bid Smithy farewell.

  “You did a fine job, Captain,” I said seriously. “Thank you, sir and I’ll be back again if I require your special services.” I mentioned nothing of why he was in Hell. He seemed a happier soul when he wasn’t thinking about it.

  “Not too soon, I hope!” he said as he shook my hand. I smiled at the old man in front of me. I wondered if those were really just wrinkles on his face, rather than deep tear tracks etched into his skin from a lifetime of sadness.

  “Not too soon,” I promised sincerely. I slowly tore my eyes away from him and turned back to Mack.

  “Do you know where the Perceptionist lives?” I asked.

  Mack’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the mention of the powerful Elemental. His face drained of all color.

  “I can take you to the foot of his lane-way,” Mack managed to say weakly. “After that, you’re on your own.”

  “That’s all I need,” I said and jumped into the passenger seat of Mack’s now clean taxi.

  “All I need, he says; frickin’ nut case, gonna get me killed,” I heard Mack mumble as he walked around to the driver’s door and got inside. He looked at me again before shaking his head and starting the car. As we rolled out of the driveway, Smithy waved furiously, smiling and shouting for us to visit and have a cup of tea next time we were in the area.

  We screeched back out onto Hell’s Highway and settled into the chaotic traffic, cars roaring around us.

  “You must have gone to a lot of trouble to get that,” Mack said nodding toward the fleece in my lap.

  “You have no idea,” I said.

  “I hope she’s worth it,” Mack said as he drove. I snapped my head around to face him, furious.

  “Excuse me?” I snarled.

  “Whoa, buddy,” he said, holding up his hands in self-defense. “It was only an observation. Men only ever go to so much trouble when there’s a gal involved.” She must be a special one if you’re going to the devil’s door for her. I’m sure she’s worth every breath you spend on her.”

  “Every breath and more,” I said, breaking off the conversation. I looked out the window as we drove onwards. Mack took the hint and remained silent. He could tell I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I sank into deep thought about how much I loved my Lotte; how much she had loved me.

  I lay in my bed next to Charlotte. She rolled over sleepily and smiled at me.

  “What are you looking at?” she yawned.

  “The most beautiful girl on earth,” I replied truthfully . She blushed and rolled back over, closing her eyes again. Lotte was never able to take a compliment on her beauty. She was always completely oblivious to how attractive she was. I snuggled up into her, hugging her close to my body. She fit every curve of me. We locked together like pieces of a jigsaw. It struck me how perfect we were for each other. We didn’t only match mentally, but physically as well.

  I leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Michael,” she said sleepily.

  I watched her as she fell back to sleep. She was so innocent, so perfect. Nothing would ever change that in my mind.

  I was brought to the present by the click-click of Mack’s indicator, as we drove off an exit ramp that read Satan’s Demise. It wouldn’t be long now, I thought. My mind turned to Gideon. I could see his mocking smile in my mind, evil and pious. I would wipe that smirk from his face when next we met. I would smash his perfect cheek-bones with my knuckles and peel his flesh from him in strips. I would avenge my love. I would make him cry out to the devil to make me stop. Then, I would tear him up some more. Hatred filled my soul to the brim as I thought of that bastard. I hoped that this Perceptionist had the darkest and most brutal of powers to give me, so I could unleash them on the monster that took her from me.

  I looked up from my reverie and saw that we were now in the heart of Satan’s Demise. The constant red glow from the sky threw ominous shadows around the ransacked buildings and crumbling shacks that lined the street. There were no electric lights, apart from the yellow glow coming from the headlights of our cab, which shone upon the broken windows and cracked walls of the dark suburb. The streets were deserted, not a soul, human or demon to be seen. I almost expected tumbleweed to come rolling down the street at any minute. Every now and then, I swear I the saw green dots of a cat’s eyes glowing at me from out of some of the abandoned buildings that lined the street.

  Mack slowed his cab to a crawl, the wheels crunching broken glass underneath us as we came to a stop. Mack looked at me.

  “Better sit tight for a moment,” he said looking at his watch. “It’s just about time for The Guilt.”

  I was about to explain that Satan had spared me the visions, but I stopped myself. What would my friend think of me if he knew I was working with The Devil?

  I could hear i
t coming before I saw it. The rushing and growling fires of Hell, rumbled towards us as we sat in the dark. The flames hit our cab with a loud bang. We rocked back and forth, as I watched Mack close his eyes and begin convulsing heavily. Tears began streaming down his face and sobs wracked his body.

  “I’m so sorry,” he screamed over and over.

  The sight of such a burly looking man crying made me feel deep sympathy for him.

  “I didn’t mean it,” he wailed. “No, I’m sorry, it’s not like that.”

  Mack was holding his arms out in pleading as his whole body lurched and shuddered in his seat.

  “I love you. I don’t love her. I wish I could take it back,” he blubbered loudly as the fire swept over the cab.

  I looked away from him. He was obviously remembering a time when he cheated on his girlfriend or wife. Here was another soul who was punishing himself for his wrongs on earth, unable to forgive himself his weaknesses. I wondered if he would ever let his guilt go and pass over to Heaven. It was heart wrenching to see someone so strong in life look so helpless and pitiful while The Guilt took hold of him.

  The fire began to subside around us. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, pretending to be experiencing guilt of my own. Mack slowly stopped crying next to me. I heard him wiping away his tears before shaking me awake.

  “Michael,” he said, “It’s over, Michael, wake up.”

  I slowly opened my eyes to look at Mack. He still had tears streaked over his face, despite his efforts to conceal them. He looked away from me across the road to our right with glassy eyes. Clearing his throat he mumbled, “I think we’re here.”

  I followed his gaze and saw that we had stopped at the front of a long, gloomy laneway, which had a single globe at the end lighting an insipid, yellow doorway.

 

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