My Ex-Wife Said Go to Hell

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My Ex-Wife Said Go to Hell Page 9

by Zurosky, Kirk


  “Excuse me, miss,” I called. “Can you tell me where I am?”

  She turned and walked toward me. Her eyes were as blue as the sky above and her lips as red as the reddest rose in her garden. She was, I decided, absolutely the most beautiful gardener I had ever seen. Let me correct that. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman I had ever seen—a true goddess. If I were a werewolf, I would have howled. But it was more than just her looks that made me feel attracted to her. From the soft fullness of her face to the rise of her bountiful breasts to the mesmerizing curve of her hips, she exuded a pure, raw fertility that was making my head spin. Garlic sat down next to me and wagged her tail happily. She clearly sensed no danger from this girl.

  “You are in Hell,” she said sweetly. Her eyes took in Garlic, who was now wagging her tail quite uncontrollably. The gorgeous gardener dropped to her knees and held out her hand to Garlic. “Who is a cute puppy?” she said, causing Garlic to drop on her back and offer up her belly. The girl’s voice was so warm and inviting, and the perfume that I could now smell on her was so intoxicating that for a second I considered doing the very same thing.

  “But this can’t be Hell,” I said. “Just a second ago, I saw the real Hell, and then it just changed to this.”

  The gardener rose to her feet and fixed her eyes upon me, sending chills down my spine. “It is very much Hell,” she said. “It is just under new management right now.”

  I clapped my hand to my head, silently praising Justice for his guile. “Oh, that is right,” I exclaimed. “Persephone got Hell half-time in her divorce settlement with the Dark Lord! This amazing place is her doing! I bet that incredible castle over there is hers. Well, Hell has never looked better,” I said. “I could stay here forever, you know. By the way, what is your name?”

  “You can call me Honey, I am Persephone’s gardener,” she replied. “And you are very much an immortal, are you not?”

  “Sirio Sinestra at your service.” I did a little mock bow. “How did you know that?”

  She smiled, and for a moment it seemed the sun was shining just a little bit brighter. “Well, first off, all the damned mortal souls are now in Limbo, so you can only be an immortal.” She thought for a moment. “Wait a second,” she said. “Now, the only immortals I ever see in here come from Immortal Divorce Court to serve a sentence. Are you some kind of deadbeat, cheat, or child molester?”

  A cool wind blew as her face now failed to hide her impending wrath. “I am nothing remotely like that,” I said. I noticed an ominous black cloud forming above me, and heard a distant peal of thunder. I spoke quickly before a lightning strike accomplished what the tenth level of Hell had not yet managed to.

  “Garlic, my dog, well, she is not just any ordinary animal,” I sputtered. “Truth is I am not really sure what she is capable of, what she understands, and so on. She is a vampire Maltese. And she did her business on the Head Magistrate’s bench, and for that he sentenced us both to one hundred years for contempt of court.”

  The black cloud literally vanished into the air as the girl burst out laughing. I was very much relieved, but not so much that I could not help but stare like a complete blithering idiot at the jiggling this caused. “Oh, that pompous fool,” she cried. “That is superb. Well done, Garlic.” Garlic was so excited by this attention that she put her paws on Honey’s leg, stuck her nose beneath Honey’s dress, and began licking her knee frantically. I swallowed and sighed, deeply jealous of my dog.

  “Have you been to Immortal Divorce Court?” I asked when I recovered.

  “Yes,” Honey said, and frowned.

  “Oh, right,” I continued. “Did you have to testify at the trial of Persephone and Hades since you work for her?”

  The moment was broken by a sharp yapping sound, and out of the farmhouse came running a three-headed Chihuahua. It was pure white and had pink bows adorning its three barking heads and little pink kerchiefs tied around each little neck. Garlic did not snarl or bark, but merely stood her ground as the other dog approached. “Russi is friendly,” Honey said. And indeed, the two dogs rubbed noses and set off to chase each other around the garden.

  “Are you hungry?” Honey asked.

  “Actually,” I said, “I am quite famished. It’s been one hell of a day.” As soon as those words were out of my mouth, we both burst out laughing, and her hand grazed my own for a second, causing my hunger to grow a little more. For her. I didn’t remotely care anymore why she had been in Immortal Divorce Court. I followed her into the farmhouse, which was furnished very simply with homemade wooden furniture and benches. Fresh cut flowers were in vases all over the farmhouse, and it smelled like spring. I could see a simple bedroom with just a small bed. Honey lived a very Spartan life in comparison to the utter opulence I imagined that no doubt adorned the magnificent castle across the valley where the Queen of the Underworld resided.

  Honey served me a magnificent lunch of nuts, cheese, fresh bread, and a special treat—blood oranges. But these were no ordinary blood oranges, for instead of juice, these contained real blood, which invigorated me and made me feel like myself again. I helped Honey clear the table and found myself standing ever so close to her by the washbasin.

  Honey turned and fixed those incredible blue eyes upon me. She reached out a finger and traced a line from the hollow of my throat down to my heart and rested her hand on my chest. I shivered at her touch. “I am one with nature, and I can feel so much with just the touch of my hand,” she said. I felt a lot with the touch of her hand too. I didn’t care what kind of hot nature elf Honey was, because I just wanted to be one with her!

  “What do you feel from me?” I stammered.

  “Your heart is full of such an amazing capacity to love and be loved. You are a very special creature. That is a gift.”

  “What is your gift?” I said to her.

  Honey moved her hand from my chest to around my neck and drew my lips to hers. She whispered softly right before we kissed. “I make things grow.” Indeed, my heart and my loins were filled with unquenchable desire for her as she led me to the bedroom. She dropped her dress to the floor, and my eyes took in every incomparable curve of her naked body.

  Honey undressed me slowly and gently, and I was momentarily dizzy from her intoxicating scent. Her lips found mine again, and I marveled at their softness as her hand found my hardness. She pulled me onto the bed and lay back, and the vampire in me pounced on her, my lips and tongue covering her breasts and stomach in kisses. I continued downward and found her to be aptly named, for her womanhood tasted as sweet as the sweetest honey.

  “I want you inside of me, Sirio,” she commanded.

  Not one to disappoint a lady, I entered her, and we both gasped at the feeling. Time seemed to stop as I brought her to pleasure again and again, and we rolled on the bed from position to position until finally Honey mounted me. She was a sight to behold, and I nearly finished just then. But I wanted to please her, had to please her, needed to please her, and as she rocked back and forth, I could feel the hot wetness of her pleasure and knew I was succeeding. From far off I felt my own pleasure beginning to build, and it kept building and building until I let loose inside her with my whole body racked with the pleasure of this epic experience. I was shaking uncontrollably, and she leaned forward, and curled up on my chest, holding me close until finally I could breathe again.

  “You have such raw emotion in your soul,” Honey exclaimed. “You give so much of yourself. We must do that again.”

  Before I could stall, protest, or excuse myself to go outside to relieve myself and gain the relatively short time even a vampire needs between sessions of intercourse, I saw I was ready to do it again. And we did. Again and again and again, and yet again. Best contempt sentence ever, I mused.

  Finally, we lay intertwined in the bed, a soft sheen of perspiration covering us both. Honey was a very satisfied girl, but she was not one to
linger, and her practical gardener side soon took over. After a few moments, she rose from the bed and shrugged into her dress. “Get dressed, Sirio,” she said. “I need you to help me in the gardens.”

  And so I passed my contempt sentence, working the gardens of Hell, supervised by Honey, while Garlic and Russi ran about, rolling in the sweet, green grass. Honey was a stern taskmaster when it came to the gardens, but the truth was, I threw myself into the work with a passion. It was good work, honest work, and it felt good to use my muscles as I weeded, hoed, baled, and harvested for Honey. Whatever she wanted me to do I did, and I was especially happy about all the hoeing. For Honey worked me hard in the fields and equally hard in her bedroom. There was no routine, no calendar she followed. It did not matter if it was light or dark, rainy or sunny, whether we were in the fields or in the farmhouse. She just came up to me and took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. I was hers to command.

  I do not know if months passed or years, but I do know I was happy. What man would not be happy with good honest work by day and fantastic pleasure by night? But one night Honey took me by the hand, and by then accustomed to our routine, I boldly reached to undo her dress, and she stopped me. “We need to talk,” she said. “I have not been completely honest with you.”

  I could not imagine what she could say that would be so bad. She was probably falling in love with me. “What is it?” I asked.

  Honey looked quite distressed. “Look,” she said. “I was going to tell you. Really I was. It’s just you gave me so much, fulfilled needs in me like I have never had fulfilled. You just give so much of yourself.”

  I was flattered but could tell from the look in her eyes that I was not going to like what she had to say. “What is it, Honey?” I said, putting a hand to her cheek.

  “Blast you,” she said. “My name is not Honey.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “I don’t care what your name is. What does your name have to do with anything?”

  She shook her head. “My name is Persephone.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Wow, yeah, you are right, and that really does complicate things.” I had been fornicating with a real goddess.

  “More than you know,” she said. “In two days, my ex-husband, Hades, gets back control of the Underworld. He has been locked up in that castle over yonder for the last six months.”

  I gulped. “He wouldn’t happen to be able to see what goes on here?”

  She nodded, “He sure can. And he is still just as jealous when I am involved as he was when we were married.”

  “He is going to kill me,” I said.

  She shook her head. “Simply killing you won’t be good enough for him.”

  “Why is that?” I exclaimed.

  She smiled coyly. “Because, sweet Sirio, for the last six months he has been imprisoned in a castle in a land that he controls and has watched you satisfy me in ways he never could—hour after hour, day after day, and month after month. Probably drove him pretty much insane. Well, I mean more insane, because Hades is positively bonkers, you know!” She put a hand to my cheek. “You were the best revenge sex ever.”

  “What am I going to do?” I asked. How could I avoid the wrath of the Lord of the Underworld?

  “We are both going to have to leave,” she said. “I am going to spend my usual six months with my mother. Your sentence is almost up. Time passes differently here than on earth, so I think you may only have a few years left of that contempt nonsense of Scorn’s.”

  “How do we get out of here?”

  She smiled at my anxiousness. “He cannot kill you if you are not in his domain,” she said. “It’s in our agreement. There is a doorway back to Earth you and Garlic can take, but the catch is it just randomly opens up to a location. Could be Paris, could be London, you follow?”

  “Could be in a volcano, or an avalanche, or above a canyon, or in the middle of an ocean . . .”

  She held my hand and looked me in the eyes, and I melted for her all over again. “It is better than the alternative,” she said. “It gives you two a chance. And besides, Garlic would not like Russi when he gets his balls back. He is one angry and large three-headed hellhound.”

  The next day we walked out into the garden with Garlic nipping playfully at our heels. Persephone reached for my hand, and instead of being angry with her for lying to me, I took it. We had made love the previous night, of course, deeply, passionately, and oh, so completely, both giving of ourselves knowing it would be for the last time. Afterward, I thought I saw this incomparable goddess dab a tear from her eye.

  We stopped before a stone archway that I had never noticed before, and Garlic immediately sensed something was amiss and barked at it anxiously. When I awoke that morning to Persephone sleeping on my chest, I had remembered that she and Bloodsucker Number One had something in common—Feminera. And according to Justice, Persephone had been quite an actress in the little performance that had successfully wrested half of Hell from Hades. Of course, that was not necessarily a bad thing, I mused. I looked around at the pristine gardens I would never see again and gazed deep into blue eyes I would never forget. So, if the stone archway was a gateway to the real tenth level of Hell or certain earthly death, even for a vampire, I certainly was going out in style.

  Persephone smiled that dazzling smile of hers. “Goodbye, Sirio,” she said. “I will never forget you or that amazing heart of yours.”

  I smiled back and nodded. “The feeling is mutual, my goddess.”

  Our lips met one last tantalizingly tortuous time, and then I scooped up Garlic, and without looking back at Persephone, I stepped through the archway.

  Chapter 6

  Complete and utter darkness, a great rush of air, and momentary weightlessness before the Earth’s pull took hold and brought me back home. I splashed into warm water up to my knees and sank into sand so soft that it cushioned my fall. Garlic yelped and leaped from my arms onto a beach whose white sand fairly glowed in the light of the full moon beaming high above. She raced back and forth along the beach, playing tag with the rush of the surf. I inhaled the clean ocean air whose delicious salty smell brought me back to my days on Sa Dragonera. But judging by the warm water and palm trees, I was indeed somewhere tropical. I laughed out loud not sure if I owed my destination to Justice and not really caring where I was.

  I walked onto the shore and joined Garlic, taking off my boots and emptying them of seawater. The sand felt cool on my feet, and I dug my toes deeper, feeling the solidness of the earth. With my vampire vision, my eyes quickly adjusted to the moonlight, and I could see just as well as in daylight. I detected a sea turtle far down the beach, and Garlic and I raced to kill our dinner.

  After a delightful meal, Garlic and I found a small stream whose water tasted fresh and clean. If this was an island in the middle of uncharted territory, I knew I was lucky to find water and food to sustain us. Since Immortal Divorce Court had taken all my traveling crystals, we could be here for a very long time. I tossed the remnants of our dinner into the waves, and Garlic barked at the silver minnows that quickly scavenged our meal. I kept the turtle’s shell to use as a bowl, and we bedded down in a lean-to of palm fronds and bamboo. The next day we would try to see just where we had landed, and if any human inhabitants were around. Since I was not sure if my contempt sentence had expired, I could not risk calling any attention to myself.

  I awoke with the sunrise, and Garlic and I quickly set out north into the tropical jungle bordering the shore. Quickly, I found what looked to be an established path. A few minutes later, I came across a discarded ceramic bowl. Clearly, this land had been already besmirched by man. Moving quickly and cautiously we startled numerous rabbits and deer, but they were not our prey just yet. Soon, we came out on another shoreline and saw facing us a good-sized island that dwarfed our new home. In the distance, I could see the outline of a small sloop hugging the shore of the isl
and, confirming we were not alone. I took the rest of the day to explore my little island, which was no more than three miles wide and fifteen miles long. I built a small shelter and fashioned a bed made from an old sailcloth I found discarded along the shore. The stream we had found earlier led to a freshwater spring just a short walk away.

  Men had visited this island and would again. I began fashioning a small skiff from a hollowed out log but did not attend to this task with great diligence. I was not in any hurry to leave my island for the civilization that inhabited the island to the north.

  One day in my explorations, I found a decapitated humanoid skeleton sitting up against a tree. His skull rested in his bony hands, and his sword was leaned neatly against the tree. He had not been dead long, but the elements and denizens of the island had combined to pick his bones clean. All that remained of him were his clothes, which were made out of the finest silks, and they had weathered the elements quite well. I looked down at my own ragged garments but could not bring myself to strip his corpse. His sword was an entirely different story, of course.

  I spent my days practicing my father’s art and worked all the rust off my father’s teaching and the dead man’s blade in no time. Garlic spent her days thinning the island’s population of rabbits. The skiff had been seaworthy for a few weeks now, but I was not ready to leave the island. The deer were aplenty, the water was fresh, and aside from the occasional ship passing in the distance, there was no sign of man. I did not care if I ever saw another man again.

  I awoke one night with a start, my senses telling me that something or someone was near. Garlic popped her head up, yawned, and went back to sleep. Clearly, she was not bothered, but I felt the need to check our perimeter. The moon was nearly full and beautiful, casting an ethereal light as I moved silently through the jungle toward the freshwater spring. It could have been a hint of orchids, but I knew it to be the flowery aroma of a woman.

 

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