Clipped Wings

by J. P. Rice

  He moved next to me and rolled his eyes. “No. I’m afraid that will not pass. I am not convinced of that.”

  I had to dig deeper. “Oh, drinking. I used to drink a lot. I mean a lot. The Gods gave me a pill to stop me from drinking. It was that bad.”

  “Gods? What Gods do you speak of?” he asked in a mocking tone.

  A female voice sounded behind Belphegor, “I am one of the Gods this man speaks of.”

  The Morrigan had appeared out of nowhere. Belphegor spun around and met her gaze. “My lady. I was unawares. If you’re vouching for this man, that is more than enough for me.”

  Belphegor faced me and announced, “You have gained entry to the next circle.” By the time he turned back to the Morrigan, she was gone.

  She’d receded into the shadows like the hellhound. Could she hear everything I said? And where the hell had she just come from? It was like she had just materialized out of thin air.

  We walked around the descending ring and the horrible stench started to fade. The moist air from the storm of gluttony started to dry out and the humidity faded. It grew hotter by the footstep as we came to the entrance to the next level.

  The door slid to the side and my gracious guide allowed me to go through first. The circular path continued until a desert appeared to my right. People were buried in the sand up to their necks with only their heads sticking out. Their heads were surrounded by something that looked like tanning reflectors.

  “Can you recognize anyone out there?” Belphegor asked.

  I squinted. “No. I can’t really see anyone’s faces. Why are they like that?”

  “Suffering from the sin of envy, they are only permitted to look at themselves. If they can’t see anyone else, they cannot be jealous. Also, they must face their sin for the rest of time.” He pointed at a group of envious souls and said, “There’s Judas Iscariot, and Athena is off to the right of him. You can’t really see from here and I’m rather certain you don’t want to go out there.”

  “Solid assumption. I’m fine right here.”

  Belphegor explained, “Envy. It can come in many forms. One can be jealous of another person or of their possessions. Success is the ultimate motivator of envy. Personally, I hate envy. I believe it to be the weakest of all sins. I don’t believe it deserves a circle of hell. However, to get to the next circle, you must confess to envy.”

  What would get me to the next level? “I get jealous a lot. Mostly of the wizards from St. Louis and Chicago. I really wanted to attain the success that those guys have had. They are legends compared to me and I always wanted to be as badass as them.”

  He chewed on the words for a moment, tossing his head from side to side. “I believe you want to be like those men, but there isn’t a deep-rooted jealousy there. You will have to do better than that.”

  I thought about whom I had been jealous of over the years. One person kept creeping back into my mind. “My best friend Kyle. When he started to get scholarship offers from college, it started. Scouts from the NFL started coming to our high school games to watch him. I remember thinking I wish that was me. I wish all the hoopla was surrounding me. I was fucking jealous of him.”

  One of the bodies dug out of the sand and ran in my direction. As it got closer, I realized it was Kyle’s soul coming toward us. Maybe this would give me a chance to explain what had happened on the night he had died.

  Kyle was smiling as he slowed to a jog and approached us. Good. He wasn’t pissed.

  As he closed in on me, he drew back his beefy right fist and took a wild swing. I ducked as the slow punch sailed over my skull, but I heard a thump. Looking up, Kyle’s follow through had connected with Belphegor’s chin. The demon’s eyes rolled back into his head, his wobbly knees gave way and he collapsed to the stone.

  As I rose to my feet, Kyle extended both open hands. He grabbed hold of my neck. I thrust my hands up into his forearms to break the hold. And that failed miserably. Kyle firmed his grip, both thumbs increasing the pressure on my windpipe.

  Chapter 6

  I gasped for air as he picked me up off my feet, maintaining the choke hold. My feet kicked around, making contact with Kyle, but I was too close to build up momentum to hurt him. I jammed my finger into his eye. Kyle screamed at first and then laughed demonically.

  He raised my body higher in the air and I could feel my brain threatening to shut down from the lack of oxygen. I gurgled, drool coming out of the sides of my mouth. Was this how it was all going to end?

  I turned my head away from the desert and started to hallucinate. The dancing shadows caused by the dim torchlight developed into an animal on the wall. A black hellhound appeared with her legs crouched. A moment later, the vision pounced off the wall and dove toward Kyle and me with her massive jaw agape.

  The hound sunk her teeth into Kyle’s leg and he cried out in pain. He broke the hold and I fell a few feet to the ground. I landed awkwardly and went down to one knee as Kyle wrestled with the hellhound. In my delirious state, I’d forgotten about Darkwing.

  She’d showed up just in time to save me. The barking and Kyle’s screaming caused Belphegor to stir. The demon sat up and shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

  Belphegor sprang to his feet and said, “You son of a bitch.” He lunged toward Kyle and landed a right fist to my former best friend’s cheek.

  Kyle pushed Darkwing away, ducked another punch from Belphegor and ran back into the sand.

  Dusting myself off, I said, “I guess that should be enough to get me to the next level.”

  Belphegor rubbed his jaw as he spoke softly, “That motherfucker. Now it’s going to hurt when I finally get to eat. That verification will get you to the next level. This is where I bid you adieu. You will have another guide for the rest of your journey down here. Best of luck. If you will excuse me, I have a pizza guy to kill.”

  “Thanks?” I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. He was a demon living in hell, but I’d rate him as an honest broker, just doing his job.

  I went down, and Belphegor walked up the circular incline. Happy to have got this far without any real problems other than dying down here, I was also disturbed that I was judged worthy of being despicable enough to clear the first three circles.

  Was I a terrible person? I shook those thoughts away. Now was not the time for me to feel sorry for myself. Terrible or not, I could still rescue my mentor and bring Reg back to life. I had a long way to go, but redemption was waiting at the end of the path.

  I ran into another closed door that slid open as I approached it. Walking through, a blast of wind hit me in the face and blew my shaggy hair back. I took a few steps into the newest circle and encountered a large figure standing in the way.

  The tall man tucked his long platinum hair behind his ear, exposing a cheek full of dark stubble and red-tinted eyes. He was dressed in medieval armor with layers of boiled leather and a chain mail jacket. Something was coming up over his shoulders that I couldn’t identify.

  I broke the unnerving silence. “Are you the new guide Belphegor was talking about?”

  “Guide? Guide? Is that all Lucifer is? Lucifer is a judge. He will determine whether you keep descending. Cause him anger, and you shall feel his wrath.” He turned slightly and I realized those were wings popping up over his shoulders. Small and sleek, but wings nonetheless.

  I did not expect him to speak in the third person, but hey, who the hell was I to judge? “I will try to be respectful, good sir.”

  He focused on me, his glowing red eyes sending shivers down my spine. “Lucifer is pleased with the beginning of this conversation. Let’s move along now.” He extended an arm for me to take the lead.

  I rounded the corner and the wind increased exponentially, ruffling my shaggy blond hair. Off to the side of the rotunda was a big open field full of what appeared to be dancing souls, fighting against the wind.

  “Welcome to lust. Lucifer’s favorite of all the sins.” He smiled, showing off a long set of fangs. “The so
uls stuck here have enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh without being in love or married. For some reason, that is looked down upon by most people. Lucifer sees it the other way and mashes loins with whomever he wishes.” He capped the statement with a sleazy wink.

  I stared out at the people and asked, “What exactly is going on here?”

  “Perhaps you recognize some of these historical figures.” He pointed as he continued, “There is Caesar and Cleopatra.”

  They were both nude and it appeared as if they were playing that game where you get really close to another person without actually touching them. Either that or some sort of weird dance.

  Lucifer went on, “Over there you have Helen of Troy and Paris.”

  The nude couple was doing the same awkward dance as Caesar and Cleopatra.

  The guide pointed again and said, “And right in front of them is Guinevere and Lancelot.”

  The legendary knight of the Round Table turned away from his eternal lover and faced us. Even from forty feet away, I saw the striking resemblance Alayna was always talking about. I did look like Lancelot. Our matching blue eyes locked for three seconds, and he jerked his neck, focusing back on Guinevere.

  Lucifer explained, “They can get close enough, but when they try to touch their lovers, the wind prevents them from making contact. Do you have any lust you care to confess?”

  A recent act jumped into my head. “I recently impregnated a woman after having casual sex with her. We got drunk. One thing led to another, and I took pleasure in her flesh. We aren’t married or in love with each other.”

  Lucifer’s dark eyebrows arched. “Lucifer would like some juicy details about the sex.”

  “What? Now?” I asked, confused.

  He laughed awkwardly. “Never mind. Lucifer was only seeing if you would go for it. These are lies, by the way. You are in love with her and she is in love with you. You two just don’t realize it yet.”

  What was he talking about? Burn and I weren’t really an amorous couple. We were together for the benefit of Dante and our future child, but that was it. Did I have feelings for her? Sure, she was a great person. But it wasn’t love. Was it?

  I knew I had some other business to take care of down here and rubbed the talisman in my robes to make sure it was still there.

  I shook it off and tried a different avenue. “All right. There was this girl named Emily. I tried to convince myself that I was in love with her, but looking back, maybe it was lust.”

  A woman fought against the winds and ran toward us. As the nude woman neared me, I recognized her. Emily. Of course. She tried to run into the circular rotunda and accost me, but Lucifer stepped in to keep her at bay. He planted a palm against her forehead and held her back. As her tiny fists flailed away, she screamed, “You piece of shit. You sent me here. You should stay here with me.”

  I still thought about Emily with more frequency than I’d like. Wishing that everything could have worked out with her. “I’m sorry for what happened. So sorry.”

  She stopped throwing fists, but Lucifer still held her back. “You need to get me out of here. Break my neck again. Kill me again. Put me out of my misery.”

  Breaking her neck was one of my biggest regrets in life. “But then your soul will be here forever.”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to charge at me again, but Lucifer’s hand remained planted against her forehead. “Everyone’s souls are here forever, don’t you understand? Souls have been here for thousands of years. Kill my soul. Kill me again. Finish me off.”

  “Lucifer is satisfied. Start your path to the next circle.” He grabbed Emily by her shoulders, pulled her closer and then heaved her back into the wind storm. Within a few moments, he was right on my heels, descending to the next level.

  We strolled through the next automatic door and around the rotunda again, corkscrewing toward the center of the earth. Round and round we went until we arrived at a flowing river of blood and fire. People floated by periodically, most attempting to get out of the nasty sludge.

  He extended a long finger tipped with a hooked claw. “Look there. It’s Guy de Montfort and here comes Dionysius I of Syracuse. Their souls are forever tied to violence. Lucifer rather likes violence. Oh look, there is Centaurus.”

  Centaurus reached over to get onto dry land, his legs and hooves kicked like crazy, splashing blood and sparks of fire around. Lucifer extended his right arm and used the butt of his palm to shove Centaurus’s shaven chest. The half-man, half-horse splashed back into the bloody waters with the impact of a well-executed cannonball.

  Trying to avoid the splash, I jumped back, holding my hand over my face for defense. Luckily the slop missed me, splashing down a few feet in front of me. The fire quickly died on the stone floor with Lucifer stomping out some of the blaze.

  He warned, “They can be wild in the violence chamber. Lucifer has to remind them who is in charge every now and then. Violence is a skill not possessed by every man. Some beings are afraid to hit another in the face. So averse to violence to the point of fecklessness. What say you about violence, young soul?”

  This was right up my alley. “I know violence very well, sir. I’ve done my fair share of wrecking shop. I’ve killed many supernatural bad guys without giving it another thought.”

  Lucifer tossed his head around and pushed a few loose locks of hair behind his ear. “Sounds more like wrath to Lucifer’s ears.”

  All right. He wanted something more personal. “I killed my own father. It wasn’t for envy. It wasn’t treachery. He was a piece of shit. It was the violence he’d instilled in me. It came around to bite him. But I was the one who killed him. It was me.”

  Lo and behold, my father came floating by. This was like the worst trip down memory lane. His grizzled hand reached out, and he said, “Mikey. Give me a hand Mikey.” He grabbed hold of land and stopped.

  He looked up at me, his eyes wide with desperation. “Why’d you do it to me, Mikey? I wasn’t never gonna kill you. You know that.”

  Typical, dad. Nothing was ever your fault. “You shot me in the chest like four times. It’s not like we were doing that father and son thing where I have an apple on top of my head and you shoot it off. You tried to get me, but I got you first. We both know that was how it would end up.”

  He reached out with the red river water covering his hand and dripping down onto the small strip of land. “How can you say that? I’m your father. Now help me out of here, you ingrate.”

  “You were my father,” I said as I stepped on his hand and watched him fall back into the bloody river.

  He floated away trying to fight against the powerful current and screaming the entire way, but my eardrums ignored it. I did not feel sorry for killing him. My father had fucked me up more than any other person. He was the absentee father I dreaded I could become. The bastard disappeared from my vision, but unfortunately, he would never leave my head.

  Something hit me on the shoulder. Turning to my left, I saw that Lucifer was motioning for us to keep moving downward. He led the way as the next door opened and a rush of heat blasted me in the face, glazing over my nose, cheeks and ears and then cascading over the rest of my body.

  My sweat glands sent their little soldiers to every pore on my body. Two steps later, the perspiration broke out, covering my fiery skin. We circled around about four times and encountered a forest of dull greens and drab browns. As I looked closer at the landscape, I realized the souls were stuck in the bushes and trees. They scrambled, trying to get free but only entangling themselves even more.

  Harpies hovered over the landscape, occasionally swooping down to feed upon the trees and bushes. They had the body of an enormous eagle with the neck and head of an ugly crone. The souls screamed out in agony when the nasty-looking harpies flew down and chomped down on them. The harpies weren’t eating the souls, just causing major discomfort.

  Lucifer tugged on his chain mail jacket to straighten it out. “We’ve entered the land of treachery. Lucifer
is torn on this here sin. While Lucifer doesn’t mind it per se, it isn’t one of his favorites. Lucifer prefers stabbing a man in his chest or face, not his back like a coward.”

  Well, then. Don’t piss off Lucifer, double time.

  He gestured by pointing with his head. “That small bush over there is Brutus. Even though Caesar had become a tyrannical nightmare, both acts can be considered treacherous. One does not excuse the other.”

  That messed up my line of thinking about being worthy of heaven and hell. How could that be possible? If I was worthy of the depths of hell, wouldn’t it be impossible to get into heaven? Confused, I paid attention to Lucifer again.

  He pointed lazily, seemingly bored with this part of the trip. “There he is. Not exactly brother of the year. Cain is the epitome of treachery. Have at him, harpies. Never let him rest. Treachery runs rampant in many souls. Even young ones. Do you want to confess?”

  I asked, “Is my father on this level too? That would probably save us a lot of time.”

  Lucifer shook his head and waved a finger of warning in front of his chest. “One cannot be in two places at once. Not in hell, at least. You will have to convince Lucifer in some other way.”

  “Okay. Let me think.” The answer was so obvious, it was smacking me in the face. But I didn’t want to believe that he could be here. I didn’t really understand the significance of the appearances of people I’d known. Were they really stuck here? Or were they just here to scare me straight, so to speak?

  I thought about Marcellus Wallace’s warning to Butch in Pulp Fiction. It was time to say, fuck pride. Pride wouldn’t get me to the next level or bring back my friend. I lowered my head. “One of my best friends. His name is Reg.”

  Lucifer hopped onto the dull green grass, leaned down on one knee and dug his hand into the ground. Soil and grass flew over his shoulder as he kept digging down. Lucifer ripped his hand out of the hole with a handful of tree roots.