Holy Sheoly

by Hunter Blain

  Two sets of eyes regarded me, with one pair silently urging me to continue while the other remained unreadable. Damn angels.

  “Right, um...Oh! Shift to Hell, find Silver, who will probably lead us to some supersecret back door, shift to the in-between, go to Sheol, save Da and Dawson, go back to Hell, grab Joey, kick Satan in his testes, then shift home. How’s that?”

  “Don’t forget the part about personal growth and development,” Gabriel beamed with an award-winning smile.

  “Yeah...that,” I said, holding out my index finger and bouncing it in the air as I searched for a hidden meaning in his message. I found none, which wasn’t saying much. Oblivious would be an accurate term used to describe my situational awareness when it came to conversations or feelings that weren’t directly expressed.

  “You know,” Locke began slowly, clearly trying to find the right words. “Before—when you went to Hell, I mean—you had the important task of finding the prophecy scrolls.”

  “Books.”

  “Right, books. Now though...” he let the words drift in the air, making his point for him.

  “What, Locke? You think I shouldn’t go save our friends? That isn’t important enough for you?”

  “Well, of course I do. But I would be remiss if I didn’t ask if it was the smart thing to do. Objectively speaking.”

  “Objectively speaking, I think you would do well to keep that shit to yourself,” I warned, a tad more aggressively than I meant to. I could feel my eyes starting to shift.

  Gabriel glanced back and forth between us before Ludvig came into the room, breaking the silence.

  “Hayley passed out,” he announced with a sigh.

  “Yo...you’re kidding, right? She laughed herself into a coma?” I legitimately inquired, my building indignity being swallowed by the peculiarity of the warden.

  Ludvig simply shrugged, embarrassed.

  Locke looked away from me, sensing the opportunity to change the subject but still content he had said his piece. If I were to look inward and ask myself the truth, I didn’t think Locke was being unreasonable.

  “Locke,” I started, choosing my words. I wasn’t ready to reveal too much of what I knew just yet. “I know for a fact that I won’t die today. Plus, with this armor, I can shift in and out of danger.”

  “Let’s not do too much of that just yet, okay, sparky?” Gabriel asked.

  “Sparky?” I mouthed when the image of me causing a lightning bolt the size of Texas just outside this facility came to mind. “Oh, I get it, funny boy. You’re telling me to practice before making it a habit, huh?”

  “You said it, not me,” Gabriel shrugged with a smile. “Anyway, I must be off. I’d...like to have a chat with my brother.”

  “Which one?” I asked, already guessing the answer.

  “I think you already know,” he winked, but it was only a half-hearted attempt, like he was already exhausted before meeting up with Michael. I could understand why, especially if these two were complete opposite ends of the spectrum. “Before I leave, may I ask if you know how one becomes stronger?”

  “Are you asking for tips or in general?”

  “Indulge me.”

  “I mean, I have an idea, but I think you are getting at something. So please, go ahead.”

  “If you are asking my opinion, I think we get stronger by accepting ourselves completely; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Only with acceptance can we grow. Think on that, John.” Then he was gone.

  “Pfft, I accept me just fine, thank you,” I said to myself.

  “We all know his meaning won’t become clear until it is supposed to,” Locke said, rubbing at his face as if it was a nonissue, which I suppose it was.

  “Okay, well, here I go!” I announced before I started to shift.

  Wait! Baleius called out in the control room of my mind.

  What, dude? I asked, flustered. You ruined my big moment.

  Do you even know how to shift planes with the armor?

  Um, yes? You just, like, grab the air and voilà!

  John, you might transport us to the surface of the sun, where not even the armor can keep that amount of raw power from incinerating you.

  I might have gulped.

  Okay, how do I do it? I asked, crossing my arms defiantly.

  Just like with the gladius. Picture where you want to go.

  Oh yeah! The gladius. So, like, why don’t I just keep using that instead? I mean, if you and Gabriel are so worried, that is.

  The sword literally cuts a hole through time and space. As you can imagine, splitting the fabric of the universe is not without its risks.

  I don’t follow.

  I’m not surprised.

  I stared at Baleius with narrowing eyes.

  Look, he continued, What if you cut a hole somewhere outside our universe or even into a higher plane of existence? The consequences could be dire, indeed. Like a boat floating in water, poking a hole in the hull could cause the water to surge in, sinking and even swallowing the entire boat in the new universe.

  Ah, I see what you’re getting at.

  I would certainly hope so. I can’t possibly make it any clearer.

  I recalled back on the few times I had used the sword.

  I thought the hole prevented the other side from spilling in?

  That might be true for our universe, as it was designed as a safety feature, at least I imagine that it was intentional. However, a higher plane is guaranteed to not mimic our own laws, and could force its way inside. Either way, carelessly cutting holes in the fabric of space and time isn’t worth the risk unless absolutely necessary.

  Letting my eyes narrow, I said, Hey. Why didn’t you warn me about the dangers of using the gladius before? I mean, if I can sink the ship that is our universe that is.

  Because before I was under the impression that if you died, the universe would end regardless. So it was a moot point which method was used if we shifted to a lethal plane.

  Ah, right. But now we know better. So only use the gladius as a last resort.

  Correct.

  So, to use the armor, I just need to picture where I want to go, like I did with the sword?

  Without going into too much detail that might overwhelm you, yes. But please, imagine the space you want to travel to as being connected to Earth somehow.

  What do you mean?

  It is imperative that you focus on the space as one connected to the same universe as your Earth.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. My Earth? The shit do you mean, dude?

  Baleius thought for a moment before snapping his fingers and raising his eyebrows in excitement.

  Okay, you know the map app on your phone, right?

  I guess? I admitted, getting the feeling that my question was going to be ignored.

  Whenever you pinch your fingers, the map shrinks, and you are able to see more of the land, albeit a less detailed view, correct?

  Alright, I’m with you, I said, arching an eyebrow while waiting for the punch line.

  I want you to do that inside your mind until you are able to travel without fear of popping into an alternate universe. You shouldn’t be able to do it, as I believe it was only Father and Samael that had the ability, but you have a history of doing the impossible.

  Well, you know what they say: great things have been achieved throughout history by men too stupid to know they couldn’t be done.

  I’m serious, John. With your luck, you could shift us to a dimension entirely comprised of antimatter or fire.

  Or Cheez-Itz, I added helpfully.

  Baleius responded by aggressively rubbing his temples while inhaling deeply.

  I fear you do not grasp the severity of what I am suggesting.

  No, no. I’m with ya, dude. Focus on where I’m going so we don’t shift somewhere bad and instantly die, no matter how unlikely a scenario for someone who isn’t God or Satan.

  Baleius dropped his hands at my admission, and I could see him intensely debating somethin
g internally.

  What?

  John, there’s more to it than just shifting somewhere that would instantly kill us.

  O...kay? And that is?

  There are things out there whose attention we don’t wish to draw.

  Out there? Out where? I asked nervously, crossing my arms and shifting uncomfortably on my feet.

  Please, just trust me.

  Alright, fine! I called out, already exhausted. I dropped my arms and then continued, So, explain again how to get to Hell safely. Heh, that’s kinda an oxymoron, isn’t it?

  Once again, focus on moving from Earth to the connected plane that is Hell.

  Okay, I said to Baleius as much as to myself, To get to Hell, I have to picture where I am, and mentally zoom out before moving the image down to Hell.

  You can imagine it at the center of the Earth if that helps.

  Is...is that where Hell, um, really is?

  Baleius looked at me as if I had asked if a toddler could play with my loaded gun while in a pit of vipers.

  Alrighty then. That’s a no, I drawled as I deliberately broke eye contact and stared out the windows of my eyes. Locke looked like shit, and I wondered why he hadn’t just healed himself like before.

  Oh, right. He’s a wizard now. No soul stones, I whispered to myself while still in my control room. Why doesn’t he just ask Ludvig to do it then?

  What was that?

  Huh? Oh, nothing. Just...thinking.

  About what?

  My friend’s pride.

  To his credit, Baleius let the subject drop.

  Moving back to the driver’s seat of my body, I focused on an image of the clinic, mentally pinched the screen until it zoomed out, then moved the map around. Next, I used my fingers to move the image inside the Earth and deeper toward the core. Even though Baleius had basically called me a moron for asking if the actual Hell was at the center of our Earth, I still used it as a point of reference so as not to end up in a universe made of fire.

  My mind switched to a universe made of fire and I almost shit my pants, sending the abort signal to not shift just yet. Stupid mind picturing a stupid universe made of stupid fire.

  I reset the map back to Earth, took in a deep breath, and then moved it in a symbolic gesture while focusing on the Hell attached to this plane.

  Would you like me to do it? Baleius asked.

  No. I need to learn this kind of stuff.

  Within a few fast swipes of my finger, the map landed on the outskirts of Hell with the soul funnel bridge crossing the River Styx.

  “Got it,” I called out while grabbing the air with my hand and pulling it to the side and focusing intently on the path I had first walked into Hell on.

  The scene around me slid away and was replaced with one comprised of damnation.

  10

  The first thing I was struck with was the incomprehensible din of agony from the bridge below. Eyes the purple of sunset stared down under a scowl as soul after soul met their final demise in the lava. There seemed to be more demons standing guard on this visit than the last time. Then again, I had cut several down in a rage after reading the books I now knew (hoped) to be fake.

  I peeled my gaze away from the chaos below and searched the banks for Charon’s boat. The river was empty except for the souls that disappeared into it like pieces of paper drifting into a fervent fire.

  Scanning the path, I followed it up in search of any signs of the ferryman. With a frustrated grunt, I decided this wasn’t a man that I could find. Instead, I would have to let him find me.

  I took in a breath, fully expecting the sweltering brimstone of my last visit, and was met with only a mild irritation.

  Man, I love this armor, I said as I patted my breastplate, which had shimmered into view at my thought. I dropped my hand and it vanished again, leaving my normal clothing.

  “Alright, this is about the time that Charon pops out of nowhere and scares the shit out of me,” I announced before jumping and turning around to face behind me while crying out, “Rah!”

  Not what you were expecting? Baleius asked, stifling a chuckle.

  “I mean, I don’t really know what to expect with that gu-HOLY SHEOLY!” I screamed as I turned back around and saw Charon. My hand shot to my chest and I backed away while holding my free palm up. Then I bent down and grabbed my knees, wheezing loudly with a gruff, “Wheeeeewwwwww. Dude. You can’t do that to me.”

  His gray robes flowed through a private breeze at a slower time frame than the rest of him. A lidless skull that had been blackened with time tilted down to regard me. Though there were no eyes, I could feel his gaze upon me, assessing...judging.

  “This way,” Charon instructed as he slowly turned and began making his way down the path toward his boat, which had—as before—appeared out of nowhere. His robe continued to flap by its own accord, making me both awestruck and nervous. It seemed as if it was sentient, searching around him like a sea anon...sea anime...see animated...those sea things that ate creatures that floated into their tendrils.

  I followed behind him, my head pivoting all around in search of trouble. I knew management had increased the guard detail because of me and would make things harder this time around if I wasn’t careful. Which, I mean, come on, I’m always careful. Pfft.

  “Where in the HELL are we going?” I asked in jest.

  “To the soul which you seek,” the ferryman responded in his creepy raspy voice.

  “You mean Joey?” I asked before jogging to catch up to the deceptively fast figure. Striding next to him, I continued, “I appreciate you grabbing him for me when he died. I assume you put him in a safe space close to Sheol, but I was gonna get him on my way out of this place.”

  Charon didn’t say anything and I took his cue to shut up.

  I let him float a few feet in front of me as we made our way down the rest of the path, the air growing hotter the further we went. My boots crunched the blackened path as we neared the shore.

  He stepped from the banks onto the familiar boat which was barely big enough for the two of us, his pole manifesting into existence in his skeleton grip.

  As before, I carefully inched my way on board and to the very center of the boat as best I could.

  Charon pushed off with his long pole, and then we were floating down the River Styx. Only problem was, we were traveling toward the freaking bridge with the demons all around it.

  “Hey, um, Char-Charon?” I stammered, craning my neck to look at the ferryman whose face gave away no secrets. “Where’re we, um, going?”

  Charon ignored my question as the bridge drew ominously closer. I could begin to make out individual people like trees in a forest rather than just the forest as a whole.

  As we drifted closer, the bridge became so much larger than I had initially realized, and had to brace myself by tightly grabbing my seat as I leaned back to stare straight up at the ledge.

  A woman shrieked as she plummeted from the bridge, wide eyes glowing with the reflection of the lava below. Her cry was abruptly cut off as she splashed into the river in front of where we were floating. There was barely a ripple as her soul was consumed in a blinding flash.

  Another bellow came from above as a large man tumbled end over end toward his awaiting eternity. As he landed in the universe’s most painful back flop, there was a more substantial splash, and I didn’t know if it was because he was physically bigger or that he had simply hit the river with a larger surface area than the much smaller woman who had almost tried to dive, probably on instinct.

  The man burst from the depths, violently breaking the surface and screeching in agony as he clawed the unforgiving air, desperate to latch onto anything and pull himself free. Then he saw us and wildly splashed in our direction as his skin melted away, revealing bubbling muscle underneath.

  “Dear God...” I gasped as my hand covered my mouth. My expression of shock was replaced by one of concern as I saw how close the man had made it to our boat before slipping beneath
the thick, churning river in a sizzle. One large, final bubble pushed through the surface, threatening to burst and send lava all over the boat, when it simply let go and lost form like a deflating pastry freed from the oven. The last breath from a man about to face an eternity of nothing.

  Two more cries rang out from above, and I looked up with just enough time to see a morbidly obese man strike the boat just in front of us, making my sphincter clench at how the boat rocked. I may have shrieked.

  There had been a series of sickening cracks as the soul hit the boat, and I knew the man had broken several bones (which was an odd thing to consider given that he was a soul). His legs were in the lava and being hungrily consumed by the Hell river, prompting a panicked hand to grab the far side of the boat while the other latched onto my leg.

  Eyes wide enough to almost see the backs of his orbs locked onto mine as the man screamed in pure, unbridled terror. Then the boat started to rock dangerously.

  “Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” I cried out with increasing alarm as some lava splashed over the side near where one of my hands was bracing.

  The man caught on fire, which reinvigorated his already incredible resolve to not perish in the river.

  “Do something!” I screamed to Charon while twisting my torso and trying to balance out the tipping boat. Empty sockets regarded me with an indifference that plunged my soul into ice water. Charon didn’t care if I lived or died and wouldn’t lift a bony finger to help me.

  Anger fueled my muscles as I kicked at the grasping hand wrapped around my ankle. The man’s strength was incredible, and I thought about willing my gladius into existence to end his suffering before becoming sickeningly disgusted with myself for even considering it. How could I bring my celestial sword down on a mortal soul?

  More lava splashed over the side, and the thought of striking him down became a little more reasonable.

  His entire body was a billowing pyre of hellfire at that moment, and I watched as his eyes went unfocused before they evaporated in their sockets. The scream, which had been near earsplitting, faded precipitously as the soul lost the one-sided war with the river.