Donny's Inferno

by P. W. Catanese

  “Havoc,” Zag said with a rueful smile.

  “Yeah,” Donny said. “Who is Havoc?”

  “A rival of Angela’s, and someone you ought to steer well clear of,” said Zig.

  “Havoc is angry and misguided,” said Zag. “But he’s not wrong about everything.”

  Butch was nearly out of sight, about to disappear behind formations of stone. He turned and waved again before vanishing for good.

  “Well!” Zig said brightly, clearly trying to change the mood. “I’m certain Angela will have interesting news for us. Let us go to the Council Dome. The meeting should be nearly over.”

  CHAPTER 9

  What is the council?” Donny asked as he followed Zig-Zag down the road.

  “The powerful and wise archdemons who rule Sulfur,” Zag said.

  “Powerful, yes,” said Zig. “Wise, occasionally.”

  Zag shot a sour look at his other head. “Have some respect, brother.”

  “So they’re like senators or something?” Donny asked. “You elect them?”

  “Elect them?” Zag guffawed. “Where do you think you are, your United States?”

  “They represent the oldest families of Sulfur,” said Zig. “The new council was created after the Great Reform.”

  “The ill-conceived reform,” muttered Zag.

  “What was the Great Reform?” asked Donny.

  Zig raised his eyebrow. “You haven’t been told? The Great Reform is why the pit is extinguished, and why the new method of punishment has been embraced.”

  “More coddling than punishing, if you ask me,” ­grumbled Zag. “There was no reason for change. Even less reason for war.”

  “You had a war?” Donny asked. That explained some of the damaged buildings he had seen.

  “A war like never before,” said Zag, shaking his head.

  “We only had a war because the Merciless would not budge an inch, and they turned violent against the reformers,” said Zig.

  “The war would never have started if the reformers hadn’t turned their backs on the old ways,” said Zag. “Old ways that had forever served us well.”

  “Come on, Zag, even you can’t maintain that change wasn’t needed. We imprisoned souls that were long since ready to move on.”

  “I can maintain, and I do maintain. Mercy and reform were never our calling. Imagine when Lucifer returns—what will he do when he sees what we have done?”

  “Lucifer left. We chose our own path. If he wants the pit restored, he can come back and say so.”

  “Listen to you, so quick to part ways with millennia of proud tradition!”

  Donny watched the conversation as if it were a tennis match, volleying from head to head.

  “Proud tradition?” cried Zig. “Burning and poking helpless souls for eternity, when a better way was right before our eyes? If only I could part from you so easily!”

  “Bring me a saw and I’ll oblige you, brother!”

  “Do you guys agree on anything?” Donny asked.

  Zig-Zag scratched both heads. “We like Angela,” offered Zig.

  “We despise Butch,” added Zag.

  They walked a little more, and the road snaked through rolling hills of smooth stone. Zig pointed. “The Council Dome. And those are the chariots of the council members.”

  Donny saw a stately dome of white marble, sitting atop the tallest of the hills. On the road at the foot of the hill were the chariots. They looked exactly as he might have expected—replicas of the chariots of ancient Rome, with one enormous wheel on either side. What he did not expect were the creatures that apparently drew the chariots. One or two of them rested on the ground beside each of the vehicles. These were imps too, Donny assumed—those creatures seemed to come in a lot of sizes and configurations. But these imps had the most startling proportions he’d seen yet. Their legs were so long that he could have walked between them without bumping his head. Their snouts were elongated and vaguely horselike, and their tall ears pointed straight up.

  The Council Dome had a series of arches in its walls that allowed passage within. Under each stood an imposing figure—a monstrous, hulking imp, standing guard with weapon in hand. Donny caught glimpses of figures inside the dome, dressed in shimmering crimson robes. They sat on a ring of benches that encircled the interior, while one stood in the open space at the center and spoke to the rest.

  “Angela is in there?” he asked.

  “With the rest of the council,” Zag answered.

  “Watch out,” Zig said. “Imp ball coming through.”

  Donny wondered what an imp ball was, but before he could ask, he heard a commotion on another of the hills nearby. Dozens of imps scrambled to the top. They ­giggled as they jumped atop one another. First they formed an unruly heap, but then they shaped themselves into a rough ball of arms, legs, and torsos. Their laughter grew as they tried to coordinate their motions and rock back and forth. They teetered on the edge of the slope. Finally one more imp clambered up the side of the ball closest to the edge, leaned out, and used his weight to tip them over. The knotted imps started to roll down the slope.

  “Lunatics,” said Zag.

  “We ought to move,” said Zig, and they stepped aside as the mass flew past them. The imps howled with crazed laughter. Their course took them directly into a thick spire of rock, and when they smashed into it, bodies flew everywhere. The imps lay scattered on the ground and groaned for a while and held their skulls in their hands, until one of them started laughing again and the rest joined in. They wobbled to their feet and started jogging up the same slope, ready to do it again.

  One of the imps skidded to a stop when he saw Donny. “GRBRBL!” he cried.

  Donny laughed. “Arglbrgl, is that you?”

  “ARGLBRGL!” The imp wrapped his arms around Donny and squeezed. Donny smiled, but at the same time having the air squished from his lungs brought on another fit of coughing.

  Arglbrgl release him and frowned. “BGRGL?”

  “I’m fine,” Donny said into his fist as he coughed out the words.

  “Let’s get away from these hooligans,” said Zag, “before they run us over.”

  Arglbrgl waved. “GLRG!” Then he raced up the hill with the others.

  CHAPTER 10

  The meeting ended. The imposing guard imps stepped aside from the arches, and the members of the council emerged from the building.

  Donny watched the crimson-robed archdemons make their way down the wide steps carved into the slope, stopping to talk with one another. There were beings like Angela, who looked fully or partly human. Others were more terrifying to behold, humanoid creatures with reptilian faces, clawed hands, and skin covered in scales, lumps, and horns.

  “Zig-Zag,” called out a lanky, long-necked being nearby.

  “Would you excuse us for a moment?” Zag asked Donny.

  “Sure,” Donny said. He watched Zig-Zag go to speak to whatever the thing was that had called him. When he looked up the stairs again to see if Angela was coming, he spotted a tall robed figure descending toward him, quietly and gracefully. This archdemon was entirely human in appearance, with sharp features, dark eyes, pale skin, and slick black hair. He was handsome in an old-fashioned way, like an actor from a silent movie. Following him down the stairs was a massive guard imp with a face that was covered with sharp, jutting thorns. The guard had an ugly weapon in his hands: a spiked ball at the end of a chain, attached to a club.

  “Is this a living mortal I see?” the archdemon said.

  Donny cleared his throat and improved his posture. “Yes, sir.”

  “Mortals are easy for us to spot, you know.” The archdemon made a sweeping gesture around Donny’s torso. “You have an aura about you. A signature. Now, I presume you didn’t just wander in unauthorized?” He smiled, but Donny had the impression he was also poised to mo
ve quickly, like a mousetrap set to go off.

  The question had seemed simple enough, but Donny felt it needed to be answered instantly and with certainty. “No, sir.” He lifted his hand and showed his palm.

  The archdemon cocked his head and stared at Angela’s sign, embossed on Donny’s flesh. His eyes narrowed. “Ah. Obscura has a new mortal. You will be assisting her?”

  “I think so. I’m not a hundred percent sure what she wants me to do yet.”

  “I can guess,” the archdemon said. He put a hand on Donny’s shoulder. “What she wants mostly is to fill your impressionable head with radical ideas. It’s a sad thing, young friend. If you only spend time with her, you will never know the truth.”

  Donny started to feel twitchy. The hand on his shoulder was warm, and it gripped him a little too tightly. He looked toward Zig-Zag, hoping to be rescued from this encounter, but Zig-Zag was still engaged in his own conversation.

  The archdemon followed Donny’s gaze. “Ah. You have been with Zig-Zag? Zag will at least hint at the truth. But even he isn’t as faithful as he ought to be.”

  Past the archdemon’s shoulder, Donny saw someone else approach, and his eyes went wide. It was the Jolly Butcher, tiptoeing with a finger across his lips. “Sir—look out behind you,” Donny whispered.

  The archdemon turned just as Butch arrived. “Well, if it isn’t the Jolly Butcher,” he said. Butch responded with a ridiculous curtsy and another one of his high-pitched giggles.

  “Master Havoc, I see you’ve met Angela’s new pet,” Butch said.

  Every muscle in Donny’s body went rigid. So this was Havoc.

  “You two have already been introduced?” Havoc asked. “What is your name, young mortal?”

  “Donny Taylor, sir,” he answered without taking his eyes off the butcher.

  “Donny. So you have met Butch. He is an interesting specimen, don’t you think? I like to keep him around as a shining example of the depths of human depravity.”

  “I’m blushing,” Butch said. He covered his cheeks with his hands.

  “Butch serves as a reminder of the true mission of our world,” Havoc said. “To punish the human souls who have gone astray. With fire. Forever. As it was meant to be.” The grip on Donny’s shoulder tightened, digging into his flesh. Havoc leaned closer, dropped his voice, and spoke into Donny’s ear. “There will be a reckoning someday, when Lucifer returns. Those who choose the wrong side will pay the price. And the mortals who serve them will suffer most of all.”

  “You have got to be kidding.” It was Angela’s voice, the sweetest sound Donny had ever heard. He saw her out of the corner of his eye as she trotted down the stairs. Another colossal guard imp followed her, an absurdly large battle-ax balanced in his hands. “Now you get your kicks scaring helpless mortals? So typical.”

  “Typical,” echoed Angela’s guard imp. He and Havoc’s thorn-faced guard snorted and glared at each other.

  “Hands off, Havoc,” she said. “Or I will tear Butch apart and hide the pieces like Easter eggs.” Butch circled around to put Havoc between himself and Angela, and watched with his mouth agape in a crazed smile, tapping his fingers together. Zig-Zag finally noticed what was happening, and ran over, looking aghast with both faces.

  Havoc’s hand did not move. It only grew hotter. “Young mortal, do you see what sort of character you’ve gotten mixed up with? She senses she fights a losing battle. It has made her prone to impulsive, erratic behavior.”

  “Seriously, Havoc?” Angela asked. She reached for the wrist of her gloved hand and grasped the battered golden bracelet as if she were about to take it off. “Take that hand off him in three seconds, or there’s going to be an incident.”

  Havoc took his hand away and patted Donny’s head. “There, there, little mortal, nothing to fear.” He spun on his heels and faced Angela. “It really is lovely to see you again, Obscura. I missed you while I was on my expedition.”

  Angela had a remarkable catalog of facial expressions. On this occasion she rolled her eyes up, her eyelids fluttering. It was the most perfect look of irritation Donny had ever seen. “Feel free to take another one soon, and for longer,” she told Havoc. “Maybe your next report will be more interesting, and even believable. You really found nothing in the Depths at all? No sign of Lucifer or the ­Merciless even after a month’s exploration?”

  Havoc did not reply. He chuckled and sauntered away, followed by the thorn-faced guard imp and the grinning Jolly Butcher.

  Donny was about to thank Angela when he noticed something peculiar. Her hair, which had been pure black, was now auburn. He stared for a moment, and finally asked, “Are . . . are you wearing a wig?”

  “Of course not,” Angela said.

  “Um. So. You colored your hair?”

  “Not exactly,” she said. She pinched some of her hair between her fingers and pulled it up to look at it. “Oh, I see what you mean. What, don’t you like this shade?”

  “Like it? Sure, it’s great.” He looked again, closer. It wasn’t just a different color. It was shorter than before, barely touching her shoulders, and wavy instead of straight. “But how—”

  She pretended to wipe her brow. “Whew. I’m so happy you like it.” She swept her arm toward the huge imp by her side. “Now, I think you ought to meet my muscle. This is Echo. Echo, say howdy to Donny.”

  “Howdy,” said the giant imp.

  The imp was a head taller than the biggest man Donny had ever seen. His reptilian hide was gray with jagged stripes of blue. He was shaped like a titanic egg, with muscular arms and stumpy bowed legs. His eyes were wet black marbles set deep under his brow, so small they were hard to find. His nose was a pair of lopsided holes outlined by ridges of flesh. But the most extraordinary feature was his gigantic jaw, and a mouth so wide, it almost split the face in two. There was no neck at all. The mouth, when opened, would lead right into the vast belly.

  “Hi, Echo,” Donny said. He held out his hand.

  “Echo,” the hulking imp replied. His voice was a boom of thunder, and when the toothless mouth opened to speak, it looked big enough to crawl inside, over a tongue like a shovel. He stuck one of his powerful arms out, gently took Donny’s hand, and gave it a shake that nearly tugged ­Donny’s arm from its socket.

  “Nice to meet you,” Donny said, trying not to wince.

  “Nice,” said Echo. His king-size mouth curled into a crescent-moon grin.

  “Obviously, Echo can speak, but he’ll only give you one word at a time, and it’ll be one of the words you just said,” Angela said.

  “Word,” said Echo.

  “But he’s very wise,” Angela said. “And strong, of course. Echo is my personal guard. He used to work in the Pit of Fire. He was a devour-and-regurgitation specialist. You know, wander around in the flames, grab a mortal soul, gobble up the whole body, and then spit it out again.”

  “That sounds kind of disgusting,” Donny said. He wasn’t surprised that Echo was capable of such a feat. He looked like he could swallow a refrigerator.

  Echo nodded. “Disgusting.”

  “Echo, did you like your old job, or did you hate it?” Angela asked.

  “Hate,” Echo said. He lowered his head.

  “You see, Donny, when the pit was extinguished, all those imps had to find new ways to make themselves useful. Many of them are fixing the damage from the war. Some still haven’t figured out what to do, so you might observe some eccentric behaviors now and then. But Echo offered his services to me. Echo, do you like working for me or do you love working for me?”

  Echo covered his grin with a massive four-fingered hand. If those gnarly, scaly cheeks could have blushed, Donny was sure they would have. “Love,” Echo said from behind his hand.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Angela said. She patted Echo’s mountainous gut. “Would you mind sending a chariot this way? A big one, pl
ease, with two runners. We have an errand. Then I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Later,” Echo said. He lumbered away.

  “Something urgent has come up,” Angela said. “Donny, are you ready for a little travel? You don’t have to walk this time.”

  Donny took a quick deep breath to test his lungs. He managed to do it without coughing. “I’m all right.”

  “What is the trouble?” asked Zag. “Aside from Havoc returning.”

  “He’s as intolerable as ever, by the way,” Angela replied. “Wait until you hear about his phony expedition. But this is something else. Trouble at the refinery.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Donny heard the clatter of wheels on stone, and turned to see a chariot roll up. It was drawn by an identical pair of the long-legged imps that Angela had called runners. There was a bench inside where a few people could sit.

  “In we go,” Angela said. Donny and Zig-Zag sat on the bench, but Angela stood at the front of the chariot and called to the imps. “To the refinery!” There were no reins to hold. The runners nodded, and the chariot lurched into motion. Its unexpected burst of speed rocked Donny backward. They flew down the path, away from the dome, and turned onto a road that led toward the cavern wall beyond the pillar city.

  Donny saw dark shapes ahead on either side of the road. They were like trees at the bottom, with broad leathery umbrella shapes on top, nearly a dozen feet high. Imps were cutting some down with two-handled saws and piling them into carts.

  “Are those mushrooms?” Donny asked.

  “Delicious,” Zag replied.

  Well, they have to eat something, Donny thought.

  The chariot rolled on. They passed through meadows of black ferns and then a tortured terrain with pools of boiling mud and steam whistling from cracks in the ground.

  “What’s the refinery?” Donny asked, this time raising his voice so Angela might hear him better. But she didn’t answer. She appeared to be deep in thought as she gripped the front of the chariot and stared at the road ahead.