Lilith - TI3

by Fran Heckrotte

  "Your hair, it's so long."

  Running her fingers across the top, Lilith noticed the small protrusions just above and to the right and left of her forehead.

  Horns, she thought.

  Few from the Underworld had horns. Only those carrying the bloodline of the most ancient of demons had them and even they had disappeared over time. The same would probably have happened to the Child's if she had not been imprisoned in the Netherworld. Then again her sire was the eldest of the demons and as his direct descendent, it was possible she would keep them forever.

  "I always wondered if I looked like you or Father. I hoped it would be you."

  "Well, I’d say you don’t look like either of us. You're your own self. Just be thankful you didn't get his big feet." She teased, glancing down at the small hooves.

  The Child’s eyes blazed happily and she smiled.

  "Yes... I am. I like me," she said, tilting her head at a slight angle.

  "Me too. You're beautiful."

  "I get that from you."

  Laughing, Lilith turned her daughter to face her.

  "Let’s hope that’s all you inherited from me. I’m definitely glad you don’t look like your Father. That would be awful!"

  "How can you say such a thing?" interrupted a deep, baritone voice.

  Strolling into the room, Dis walked up to the Child, took her by the shoulders and turned her so he could examine her more closely. Seeing the small horns, he nodded his head in approval but didn’t comment about them.

  "I see you are grown up although you're tiny. My other offspring are big like me. You must get that from your mother. She said you had changed... matured."

  "Really Father! I’ve been locked away for hundreds of thousands of years. You can’t expect me to stay a child forever."

  "Don’t be impudent. In the Netherworld anything is possible. You are the first to escape from it."

  "I didn’t escape. I was released."

  "Escape... release... it’s all the same. Enough semantics! What are your plans? You must learn a discipline. It is one of the rules of the Underworld. All demons must have a trade. And no mischief... at least for a while. Demons have long memories. There are some who still remember the Great Battle."

  "Dis! Give her time to adjust!"

  "Adjust? She is my daughter. She doesn’t need to adjust," he declared, looking first at Lilith and then at the Child. "Well, I see I'm going to get nowhere with your mother here. We’ll talk again when she isn’t around."

  "Leave her alone, Dis."

  The Underlord shook his head and laughed.

  "You're a bad example for my daughter, Lily. I hope she shows me more respect than you do."

  Without saying another word, he left them, unwilling to let his ex berate him in front of his daughter.

  "That’s it? That’s all he has to say to me after all this time?"

  Shaking her head sadly, the Child was obviously disappointed.

  "It’s more than I expected. His appearance and desire to meet you after all this time says more than any words he may have spoken. Whether you realize it or not, he has just acknowledged you as his own. Don’t expect much more than that; at least until he adjusts to your presence."

  "I guess you’re right."

  "Listen, Child. Dis isn’t like anyone you have ever known or will ever know. He has his own agenda and he feels things differently. Everything is an extreme to him which makes him seem shallow at times. Give him time."

  "I don’t have much choice, do I?"

  "No."

  "Mother?"

  "What, Child?"

  "Everyone calls me Child, or Demon Child. Did I ever have a name?"

  Lilith gathered her into her arms and held her for several minutes, thinking back to the moment of her birth. She remembered the excruciating pain and the relief when it was over. The demon midwives had bundled the Child into a blanket and handed her to the Underlord. Without looking at her or Lilith, he had walked away.

  "Yes. Caelene."

  "Caelene. I like the sound of it. What does it mean?"

  Lilith rested her head against her daughter’s hair and felt one of the small horns press into her cheek.

  "Child," she whispered.

  "Child?"

  "Yes. It means ‘child’. At the time it seemed appropriate."

  Laughter rang out through the Underworld. The minions and demons didn't recognize the new voice but it sounded familiar.

  CHAPTER 19

  IT WAS HOT... very very hot! Opening his eyes, all Freddie could see was the multi-colored orange, red and black landscape of flickering flames. Screams pierced the air like rolling thunder. Around him stood several women, all dressed like whores. Some looked familiar, while others he was sure he had never seen before.

  "You should!" whispered a voice from behind him.

  Blinking from the sweat burning his eyes, he tried to turn to see who was talking to him. It was then that he realized he couldn't move. His wrists and ankles were bound to poles on each side of his body, leaving him spread-eagled. Flexing his muscles, he tried in vain to break the bindings. Sweat poured from his brow and chest, pooling beneath him. Looking down, he saw that he was completely naked.

  "This is a dream!" he muttered and then screamed as a searing pain shot across his back.

  "You will talk when we say you can talk," said the same voice now to his left.

  Turning his head he saw a tall, thin woman with beady black eyes standing a few feet away with a whip in her hand.

  "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice hoarse from pain. The crack of a whip was followed immediately by more pain causing him to suck in his breath and gasp.

  "You will talk when we say you can talk," repeated the voice to his right.

  Freddie glanced in the direction and saw the same woman and quickly looked to his left.

  This is a nightmare! he thought, afraid to speak. He was surrounded by the same woman. Must be Twins.

  "Triplets!" responded a voice behind him.

  About to speak, Freddie decided to remain silent.

  "Good. You learn quickly, doesn't he, sisters?"

  "Yes. That's too bad," replied the second.

  "Definitely, too bad," agreed the third.

  As if on some unseen signal, the other women who were standing silently watching started circling him slowly, each one stopping in front of him for a few seconds so he had a clear view of her face. He immediately recognized two of them.

  "Charlotte? Pammie?"

  The whip sounded and the pain was instantaneous. Biting his lip, he tried not to scream.

  "You will talk when we say you can talk," repeated the voice again.

  Nodding, Freddie said nothing.

  "These are the women you have murdered. They have names. It's good you remember them."

  The pimp noticed that each of the triplets took turns speaking, rotating in the same direction every time.

  "When you can name all of them, you will have passed the first of your trials."

  "And one will be left. Do you understand?"

  He nodded his head.

  "You may speak!"

  "Who are you?" gasped Freddie.

  "We are the Erinyes sisters. Have you never heard of us?"

  Shaking his head no, he wasn't sure if he was making a mistake by denying it.

  "We punish the worst souls condemned to hell. You have been given to us for eternity."

  "Or until you pass the two tasks set before you."

  Freddie was about to ask about these tasks when he noticed one of the triplets flicking her whip.

  "You may talk," she said.

  "What tasks?" he asked nervously, glancing at the demons on each side of him. He knew the third was behind him. The whores continued to circle silently.

  "You must name each of the whores you murdered. Only then can you go to the final task."

  "I've never seen all of these women. Only a few of them."

  "That's your problem. Y
ou either killed them or ordered their deaths."

  "You will remember them in time."

  "In a very long time."

  "It's time to begin. Name these whores," the demoness commanded to his left.

  Freddie watched the faces passing by and was able to name five before he missed. Those five disappeared but the whip cracked and he screamed.

  "Name them again."

  "I don't..."

  The whip cracked, followed by the pain.

  "You will talk when we say you can talk."

  The monotony of the sentence, itself, was enough to drive him crazy. He felt like screaming for them to shut up but knew better.

  "Name them again."

  Freddie tried and failed, tried and failed and each time he suffered the same punishment. Each of the triplets took turns with their whips, hitting the exact same spot on his back with an accuracy that foretold of eons of experience. Had he been human, he would have died a long time ago. Freddie realized he would suffer the unbearable pain for an eternity if he didn’t guess their names.

  Occasionally, the triplets would stop and talk amongst themselves, oblivious to his presence. Then they would resume their torture, methodically, stoically. On one occasion, when he was allowed to talk, he asked them what his final task would be, thinking if he guessed enough names, he'd eventually eliminate all of the whores.

  "You must guess each of our names. Only then will your soul be transferred to the fires of hell. Only then will you know some peace... although I warn you, it will still be painful."

  "But not like this. There you get periods of rest to contemplate how to redeem you soul," the second demoness said.

  "In time you may get a reprieve from the Underlord and be allowed to serve him," added the third.

  "I've never heard of you before. How can I know your names?" he asked, dejected at the thought of spending eternity under their reign.

  "That is not our problem."

  "Prayers will do you no good."

  "But please us and we may give you a hint."

  "How can I please you?" he asked, hope surfacing.

  "You please us now."

  "Yes, each failure gives us joy."

  "But if I fail every time, I will never leave here," he cried hopelessly.

  The triplets smiled their satisfaction and Freddie knew he was doomed.

  CHAPTER 20

  THEY HUDDLED IN a dark corner away from prying eyes and ears, whispering amongst themselves. The rumors were right. The Child had returned. Many of the demons had either forgotten about her or pushed aside their feelings about her and moved on. Tens of thousands of years were too long for even the most hardened to want revenge. There were too many other distractions for them to focus on. The weaker minions, however, were different. As the lowest of the low, they would never rise to positions of power and so they lived in constant fear of their own scheming. Zagam, Paymon and Dagon were three of those demons. Zagam was considered a master of deceit by some but most of the demons knew his tricks. Paymon was the master of ceremonies. Unfortunately, the Underworld rarely had any events that required his services... and then there was Dagon, the baker. Why the Underworld ever acquired a baker no one knew. Demons didn’t require food, although they did enjoy it. Unfortunately for Dagon, it was human food they enjoyed.

  "Do you think she’ll remember us?" whispered Paymon, looking around nervously.

  "I don’t know. It’s been a long time. Maybe she’s forgotten or maybe she doesn’t care anymore," said Dagon, his voice shaking slightly.

  "You are fools," hissed Zagam. "How can she not remember? Would you forget the ones who had you locked away for hundreds of thousands of years?"

  Neither of the demons answered. They didn’t have to.

  "No!" replied another voice startling the three conspirators. "No one would forget!"

  "Child! It is good to see you!" said Paymon looking to the others for support. Nodding their heads vigorously, they smiled weakly at the petite red-haired demoness.

  "Oh, I’m sure."

  "You’ve changed," observed Dagon.

  "Time can do that," the Child replied, her voice cold and emotionless.

  "Yes... yes. We heard what the Underlord and that woman did to you. It was unconscionable."

  "By that woman, you mean my mother."

  "Of course... your mother. We mean no disrespect."

  "We went to them to protest what they had done but it was too late," interjected Zagam.

  "Really! I must have missed that part."

  "Ummm... missed?"

  "Yes. It’s rather odd but you see... while I was in the Netherworld, I could see and hear everything you did and do. I don’t remember you going to my Father or Mother on my behalf."

  Zagam flushed a dark red.

  "We started to... but they wouldn’t see us is what he meant," said Dagon.

  "Oh. Well. That’s different." She sneered. "That changes everything."

  "Good... good. We’ve thought a lot about you, Child."

  "Did you, now? Well, I have to admit I’ve been thinking about

  the three of you. Especially you, Zagam."

  Zagam fidgeted.

  This isn’t good! he thought.

  "No. It isn’t," she replied making him take a step back. "I believe it was you who first lied to me about Adam."

  "I must have misunderstood what I heard... right?" he asked looking at the other two for support.

  "Yes. That’s right." They agreed glancing at each other.

  "I see. Well, that changes things. I’d hate to think you deliberately misled me."

  "No... no. We wouldn’t do that."

  The Child didn’t reply for several minutes as she examined each demon as if looking for something. Finally, focusing her attention on Zagam, she scowled and then glared, her eyes burning with an inner rage. The other demons backed away slowly, fearful of distracting her attention away from the Deceiver. Within seconds, smoke began to rise from his skin. When he tried to scream, his vocal chords felt as if they were being squeezed. Writhing in pain, he clawed at his throat, his eyes imploring his companions to assist him. Paymon took a hesitant step forward but then retreated when the Child gave him a warning glance. Cowering, the two demons watched as Zagam was slowly and sadistically incinerated into a pile of dust. Turning to look at the others, she smiled her satisfaction and walked away and then stopped and spun around.

  "You two! Get rid of his dust and then come to my chambers. From this moment on you serve me. Only me," she commanded.

  "But we are free demons."

  "Were, Dagon. You forfeited that right the moment I was set free. I think I have earned that right."

  "For how long?" Paymon asked, hesitantly.

  "Until I decide otherwise and be forewarned, no one is to know this. Do you understand?"

  Lowering their eyes, they bobbed their heads.

  "Good. I have work to do and I will need loyal supporters. Obey me and you will be well rewarded. Disobey and your life is forfeit."

  "Yes, Mistress," they replied in unison.

  The Child smiled her satisfaction. A new force walked the streets of the Underworld.

  The End

  About The Author

  Fran Heckrotte lives in sunny South Carolina with her husband. Some of her interests include motorcycling, boogie boarding, scuba diving, gardening, and water gardening. She spent three years in Alaska enjoying hiking, camping, gold panning and working part time at a local ranch. After moving to the South to become a policewoman for five years, she left law enforcement to become a carpenter. Now she owns a property management company. As time permits, she likes to travel to Montreal Canada, and South Beach Miami with her gal pals to enjoy the nightlife.

  Other Titles by This Author

  The Illusionist (First in the Illusionist Series)

  Summary

  DAKOTA DEVEREAUX, an investigative journalist, is on a mission to uncover the secrets of Yemaya, the Illusionist. However, i
n her quest for an expose on this mysterious woman, she uncovers more than she bargained for. Dakota is targeted by a power hungry CEO, determined to learn the Illusionist's secret at all costs and a madman intent on fulfilling his perverted fantasies.