by Kyoko M
“Don’t be afraid, my pet. Look at me. Look upon my face and be at peace.”
His long fingers gripped my right arm and lowered it. Don’t look. Don’t look or he’ll take you. Don’t look, Jordan.
“Look at me, my sweet. Look. At. Me.”
I couldn’t help it. One eyelid slid back to see him on his hands and knees before me. I could see the naked hunger in his eyes. He needed me. How could I be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help.
“That’s it,” the archdemon cooed as I lifted my head. His gaze dragged upward to the blood running down the side of my face. He leaned in and kissed the wound, and it vanished along with the pain. He trailed his fingertips along my jawline, slowly crawling backwards.
“Come to me, Jordan. Don’t hide.”
I didn’t remember climbing out of the cave, but I was suddenly standing on the hillside with his arms around me. He stroked the side of my face, cradling me against his firm body, his voice still saccharine.
“Do you want to be safe, my love?” Slowly, I nodded.
“All you must do is give me your soul. Just one little word and we can be together for all eternity. I will protect you. I will worship you. I will love you and you alone. I will be your sun, your stars, your moon.”
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Just say yes and all this will be yours, my love.”
His skin was so smooth against mine. He was warm and strong. I’d be safe with him. I’d survive. Wasn’t survival all that mattered? It was only my soul. Such a small price to pay for security.
My lips parted. Then I saw the light.
Michael walked into my line of vision—a beacon of elegance and beauty. His very skin projected an ethereal white glow. His features had also been refined as if some loving painter touched up an already stunning masterpiece. He wore a white dress shirt and matching linen pants rolled up above his ankles. The color was a stark contrast to his dark brown hair and luminous green eyes. The bright silver of his wings shone in the darkness and somehow brought me out the trance I’d slipped into. In that moment, I remembered who I was, who Belial was, and who Michael was.
“Enough,” the archangel said. “Let her go, demon.”
Belial inhaled and exhaled in a long, slow gesture. “You cannot blame me for trying, Michael. I told you it would be hard to resist.”
He laid a single lingering kiss on my throat and then unfolded his arms from around my body. I reached for Michael. My legs were useless twigs beneath me. I fell forward, but he caught me before my knees could scrape the bones. His touch sent fluttering sensations across my overheated skin, alleviating the pain somewhat.
He wiped away the dried tracks of tears on my cheeks, his tone soothing. “Are you alright?”
At last, I felt myself returning to normal as I stared up at him. “I’m in Hell. Of course I’m not alright.”
Michael smiled. “Sorry. I had to ask anyway.”
“What happened? How did we get separated after we entered the gates?”
“We didn’t go through all at the same time,” he answered. “Belial crossed over first, then you, and then me. By the time I made it here, you were already gone and he was after you.”
I turned my head and glared at Belial. “Asshole.”
He offered me a gallant shrug in return. “It’s what I do. Now then, if you have your wits about you, we must be going. Time grows short.”
He glanced down at my waist. I followed his gaze to find a beautiful golden rope looped around my hips several times. It was about as thick as my middle finger, and cool and metallic to the touch. With every passing moment, a thread dissipated. I also realized that my self-image consisted of a purple tank top and dark blue jeans instead of something like the fancy duds the boys were wearing. Well, I was a pretty simple girl at heart.
“Right,” I said with as much resolve as I could muster. “Let’s go get our boy back.”
Michael intertwined our fingers and together we descended the hill. He helped me over the hardest parts to navigate whereas Belial glided through them as if he were on grass.
Near the bottom, a great avian cry echoed overhead. Dark shapes circled us like vultures. “Should we be concerned?” I asked.
Belial tossed a bored look over his shoulder. “Scavenger demons. They feast on the souls in this outer realm. How else do you think the bones got here?”
One flitted past my face. I flinched. It was no bigger than a raven, but that was the only bird thing about it. It had a bald head and pointy ears and a mouth lined with two sets of sharp teeth. It flapped upward on black, bat-shaped leather wings, its spade-like tail lashing behind it as it flew to rejoin the flock. I shuddered as I envisioned them converging and tearing a body to pieces until it was dry and naked like the skeletons around us. A fate worse than death indeed.
As we continued, the shrieks of the scavengers faded into background noise and something new replaced them. Hoarse whispers and groans of pain, so many that it sounded like an auditorium full of them. Still, the only thing I saw was the three of us.
“What’s that sound?” I asked.
“Damned souls, my dear,” the archdemon answered.
“What souls? All I’m seeing are the skeletons.”
“Exactly.”
A chill billowed through me, stilting my breath for a second. “You mean…these are people we’re stepping on?”
Belial didn’t spare me a glance, and his voice was so empty that it sent even more frost through my veins. “And they can feel everything. The ones damned to this place are those who were once believers but later renounced their faith. They were dead in Christ and so they are dead in Hell, picked clean of anything that made them human.”
Michael caught me trying to gingerly step over the moaning bones and shook his head. “I know it’s unsightly, but there’s nothing you can do to ease their pain, Jordan. We have to keep going as quickly as we can.”
I winced. He was right. But that didn’t mean I liked it. “Alright.”
At last, we reached the lowest point in the valley, where there was a winding dirt road that ended at the yawning mouth of a cave. The valley closed in on both sides so it looked like a twenty-foot scab.
“This cave leads to the next circle,” Belial said. “Stay close.”
He ventured inside first, disappearing into the inky darkness. Michael followed him, tugging me by the hand. The soft white glow of his soul illuminated the path before us, although I immediately wished it didn’t when I saw where we were.
The walls were not dirt, but filthy bars holding back hundreds of withered hands reaching for us. Pathetic cries for mercy echoed around us, and their fingers grabbed at anything they could touch—my hair, my feet, my shirttail—until Michael had to scoop me up in his arms to keep me out of reach. Any hand that touched him was immediately burned as if his purity was too much for their souls to handle.
I buried my face in Michael’s neck, trying to shut out the horrific sounds around me. When it finally died down, I lifted my head to see where we were.
The black sky had a maelstrom brewing overhead, filled with bright orange lightning and mountainous dirty-grey clouds. We stood just outside of the storm and below us was a circular clearing about seventy feet across. There were huge pillars made of old rusted metal and I could see naked bodies nailed to them. Every few seconds, the lightning came down and hit one of the pillars, electrocuting every person on it. Their mouths hung open wide to scream, but the rushing wind made them deaf to my ears.
“Hold on to her,” Belial told Michael. “She’s small enough to get swept up. Follow me.”
Michael placed me on the ground and unhooked his leather belt. He slipped it through the loop in my jeans and then through his own, securing me to him. He then turned and I climbed on piggyback style.
Belial led us around the clearing, his pace steady as if he couldn’t even feel the destructive winds. I pressed my face to Michael’s nape, unable to see anything through the gale. Every
lightning strike sent a sonic boom through the ground and blasted chunks of rock into the swirling air.
Michael put me down and unhooked the belt as we reached a forest that had trees with nothing but bare, gnarled branches. Belial knelt before we walked in and examined something on the ground, raising my suspicions.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, just checking for paw prints.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Of what?”
He sent me a cryptic smirk. “You’ll know when you see it.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful.”
“You are most welcome. Now then, beyond this point we must adopt the façade that you’re my prisoners.”
He raised his hand and the atmosphere around it formed a black-and-orange mass that was neither solid nor liquid. He spread his fingers in our direction. The substance wrapped around my throat and Michael’s as well, and then darted back towards Belial’s right hand. Seconds later, heavy manacles formed at our necks and their chains materialized in his fist.
“Now then, my friends, let’s get going,” he said, beckoning us into the dark forest. He never tugged on the chains, but the weight was deeply uncomfortable.
The trees were smaller than the average pine tree—only stretching to about eight feet tall or smaller. Their roots stuck up out of the ground, ready to trip me at every opportunity. I stubbed my toe several times, cursing whatever mystical mumbo jumbo took away my shoes in the afterlife.
We were near the end of the forest when I finally fell. I reached out instinctively to catch myself and snatched a thin branch on the way down. I hit the dirt, groaning in annoyance, and pushed up on my hands. Something dripped on the back of my wrist. Frowning, I glanced up at the tree to see that it was bleeding.
“Shit!” I shouted in sheer panic, backing away.
Michael caught my shoulders before I got far, rubbing them in comfort. “You okay?”
“Sorry,” I said, dropping the branch. “Not every day you see a tree bleed. Maybe FernGully was right. They do feel pain. I don’t even want to know the story behind why it’s doing that.”
“You really don’t,” Michael confirmed, ushering me forward.
Belial stood motionless near the edge of the tree line. I came up next to him, glancing around expectantly. “What are you waiting for?”
A hair-curling, bowel-evacuating howl cut through the air.
Belial smiled. “That.”
Vibrations thundered beneath my toes. It took me a second to realize they were impact tremors. I grabbed his sleeve on reflex, my voice high-pitched.
“Belial, if a T-Rex comes out of those trees, I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”
He chuckled. “Step behind me, Seer. For your own safety.”
Seconds later, a black three-headed dog the size of a Spinosaurus came bursting through the trees. It bounded right up to the archdemon with its jaws wide, exposing yellowed fangs longer than my entire arm, and roared hard enough to blow his long hair back away from his face. Sour, bloodstained breath burned my nostrils. I hid behind him, tensing in case I needed to run back the way we came.
Belial cleared his throat and stared at the monstrous creature with a bored look. “Nice to see you again, Cerberus. How goes the patrol?”
The two heads on either side of the central head continued growling, but then the one in the middle opened its mouth and spoke in a perfect British accent. “Boring, actually. I haven’t had a visitor since they brought the archangel.”
The middle head turned its red eyes on me as I poked my head out from around Belial’s right wing. It sucked in a quick breath to gather my scent in its nostrils. “And what have you brought?”
“Prisoners,” Belial said, grabbing my wrist and yanking me forward. He caught my chin in his hand and held my head up as if I were a marionette on display for a buyer.
“The woman is the one my master asked me to kill. The man is Commander of Heaven’s Army.”
Cerberus actually wagged his tail. It was an immensely disturbing sight. “Ah, such presents will certainly garner celebration. Congratulations, archdemon. You may pass.”
“Thank you kindly.”
Belial let go of me and continued forward with us trailing behind him. We left the forest and continued into the next area—a graveyard that stretched for at least a couple of miles. The grounds were flat and level, but there was no grass to speak of. Rain pounded down from every angle. The worst part was that the rain wasn’t water. As soon as we reached the realm, I smelled the horrid metallic stench. It was raining blood.
Belial’s sooty wings arched over his head automatically as he walked into it, shielding his body. Michael wrapped one arm around my waist and did the same, folding his silver wings around us for protection. I shivered as the warm blood squished between my toes as we walked. I breathed in and out as steadily as I could, but it was all for naught as I caught sight of the graves.
They were at least eight feet deep and the people inside them were clawing at the edges as they writhed and scrabbled over each other, screaming for help. The blood had poured into the graves and filled up to just below their necks. They were constantly falling or shoving each other down in vain attempts to reach the edge, but none of them ever did.
Michael squeezed my side gently. “Stay with me, Jor. You’re alright. How do you feel?”
I glanced down at the gold braid around my waist. So far, it was still about the size of my finger, but I could tell we had lost quite a few threads. “Do you know how much further we have to go?”
“Not far, by my calculations,” he said. “We should be coming up to the river soon. From there, it won’t be long to Pandemonium.”
“We definitely need better vacation plans. Maybe Aruba next time. Actually, I’ve never been to Spain either. What do you say? Honeymoon in Madrid?”
He smiled, and I pretended not to notice that it was sad around the edges. “It’s a date.”
At long last, we cleared the gravesite and the rain stopped. We were at the top of yet another hill, but there were no bones here. Michael’s stained wings parted to reveal that we reached a riverfront. The banks were covered with thick, foul-smelling black mud. The tormented here were stuck up to their chins, their arms outstretched towards the dark, unforgiving sky.
The river itself rivaled the Blue Nile. It was so deep that the water seemed like ink and I couldn’t see the other side even from the hilltop. The current was surprisingly gentle. It was almost beautiful in a macabre sort of way.
There was a small wooden dock next to a massive boat with intricately carved runes along the side depicting Satan and his followers savagely killing the people beneath them. The ferryman had a long hooded brown robe with a white cord tied at his waist, and a simple cloth bag that hung heavy with coins.
Belial tugged at our collars once. “Do not speak. We must tread carefully here. If he refuses passage, our little excursion will have been for nothing.”
We both nodded and followed him to the muddy banks of the River Styx. Belial led us to the edge of the dock and then bowed his head. Michael and I did the same.
“Good ferryman, I wish to take these prisoners to Pandemonium. May we pass?”
I dared not look up, but the gravelly voice that answered made me want to. It sounded powerful, yet had a hollow whistle to it as if the man were nothing but bones. “What payment hast thou, archdemon Belial?”
He jerked Michael forward and plucked a feather from one of his wings. He dipped it in the river’s waters to clean it and then offered it to the ferryman. “A feather from the wings of God’s mightiest angel, Michael.”
He tugged me towards him and caught one of the threads at my waist, pulling it free. “A thread from the soul of Jordan Amador, one of the most powerful Seers on Earth.”
He handed it to the ferryman. Two pale emaciated hands weighed the items in their palms. I held my breath, praying for a miracle, as absurd as that sounded.
“Thine payment is sufficient, archdemon
Belial. Thou and thine prisoners may pass,” the ferryman wheedled, sweeping his hand aside.
We stepped onto the boat and he pushed off from the bank with one foot. I expected to see a large oar of some sort, but instead the ferryman shuffled to the bow and extended both arms. He waved them about in a slow, churning pattern as if he were practicing tai chi, but then the boat began to glide forward. I glanced over the side to see the water of the river pushing us forward. Circumstances aside, that was kind of cool.
“Thou hast come at a most opportune time,” the ferryman said. “All of Dis froths with excitement at the presence of Gabriel. Thy charges will bring even more entertainment.”
“I most certainly hope so,” Belial said, aiming a sinister smile in my direction. I glanced away, afraid that his gaze would pull me under yet again. Instead, I focused on the river itself.
It was meandering and snake-like, and the banks were all the same—crowded with the trapped souls. I nearly stumbled backwards as an enormous fin the size of a sailboat glided past. All I caught a glimpse of in the black waters were dark green scales. The unseen creature swam towards the shore and two of the people in the mud were sucked under. Blood bubbled up to the surface seconds later. Whatever it was, it kept up this pattern for miles, swimming alongside the boat, but not close enough for me to see it.
Finally, we turned down a long stretch of the river and there was a faint golden glow in the distance. Belial watched my curious expression with faint amusement.
“The city of Dis,” he said, as if reading my mind. “Home to all demonkind.”
The architecture of the city was unlike anything I’d ever laid eyes on. The structures were huge and twisted into shapes that nothing should have been able to support, but somehow they stood. The most striking of all the building was a tower that appeared to be made of crystal that spiraled and glittered in the light of the hellfire torches and lanterns that lit the great city. Gargoyles crouched at the tops of the marble and ivory buildings, their wings flapping every so often. The highest point was at the center—a huge, black sphere rising up over the rest of the skyline like an unholy national monument.