Stolen Fire

by S. Dalambakis

  “No, this isn’t the first level of hell. This is the entrance to hell. Everyone starts off here before going into the levels. As for your other questions, you’ll see. I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” he grins.

  He tugs on my hand and we start walking along the bank of the river. It doesn’t take long before the water starts to churn. I turn my attention to the river, looking upon the water trying to see what is causing the motions. I see a whirlpool not far from the bank. There is something rising from it, a light. With the hand that Stolas is not holding, I rapidly start smacking his arm, getting his attention.

  “Stolas, what the hell is going on? What the hell is that?” I say frantically.

  “Ah, that would be Charon.”

  My gaze whips to his. “The ferryman?”

  “Yes. He’s going to be our ride across the river.”

  “Wait, this is the River Styx?”

  “Of course. What other river would it be?” He raises a single eyebrow.

  My mind goes blank. I don’t know what to say. I’ve heard and read stories about Charon and the river, but I didn’t think I would see that it was real, that it was true. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised because Hell is real. But seeing is believing, and I’m believing so hard right now.

  A jingling of chains catches my attention, and I see that a boat has risen from the whirlpool, making its way toward us. As the boat nears, I see where the sound is coming from and I’m shocked. The front of the boat has spikes sticking off it horizontally with chains attached to each one. I follow those chains down and see that they are connected to skeletons. They’re the reason the boat is being propelled through the water. They are pulling the boat through the river. The boat reaches the bank and the skeletons retreat under water.

  “Stolas Asmoday,” an ethereal voice says. My eyes go up, finding the source of the musical voice. There standing at the bow is a cloaked skeleton holding a scythe, the blade on fire.

  “Oh, my,” I whisper. The guys chuckle around me.

  “Who is this lovely creature?”

  “Charon, I would like to introduce you to my mate, Finley. Finley, this is Charon, ferryman of the River Styx.”

  “Please, come.” He hits his scythe three times on the floor of the boat. Skeletons rise from the water, forming steps. I glance up seeing Charon holding out a hand toward me. “Don’t be afraid.”

  I place my booted foot on the back of the first skeleton, expecting it to fall apart under my weight, but it doesn’t. Carefully, I step onto the next and then the next, each of them continuing to hold until I make it to the last. Charon’s hand is there, extended toward me, and I carefully place my hand in his. The bone of his hand is smooth and warmer than I thought it would be. I honestly thought I would be freaking out and I have no idea why I’m not. Charon helps me up the rest of the skeleton staircase and into his boat. The guys follow after me. Once everyone is situated, Charon taps his scythe once, and the boat surges forward.

  “Are you alright, Finley?” Charon inquires.

  “I-I’m just...wow.” Is all I get out. Charon chuckles and the sound is magical.

  “The first time in hell is always wondrous. That is, until you reach certain levels.”

  “You are not what I expected,” I say. I can hear the awe in my voice.

  “What did you expect, dear?”

  “Someone colder and more unfeeling.”

  “Ah, but you don’t know that I’m not.” I think if he could grin, he would be doing that at this moment.

  “That’s true, but I get the feeling this is who you truly are.”

  “Maybe only to those that deserve to see this side.”

  I nod, understanding. “You must see the worst of the worst.”

  “I do, and you have walked on the backs of some of them. There is no better way to put them in their place.” I look at Charon, not quite understanding how this puts them in their place. I have a feeling he can see me, even though he doesn’t have eyes, because he answers my unspoken question. “They were once people who liked to feel powerful. They felt untouchable, making everyone bend to their will. They were dominant and loved making others feel like they were beneath them. The things that they did to get where they were is despicable. Murderers, rapists, those are backs you stepped on. Here, they are subservient. They bend to my will. They no longer hold any power, or any meaning. Here, they are nothing.” I nod in understanding, before turning my attention back to the river.

  “I feel like I should warn you about the first level of hell,” Stolas says. I turn my attention to him. I can see the tension in his body.

  “What about it?” I ask.

  “The first level of hell is dangerous for you. There are souls that can try to jump in your body and take over. They want to be free of this place. When we get in there I need you to do exactly as I say. I’ll explain more about the level after we get through it, but I just want you to be prepared,” Stolas states.

  I nod. “I promise to listen to you.” Stolas’ shoulders relax. He must really be worried about what could happen. No one else talks as we continue our journey.

  I don’t know how long we travel, but the river starts to narrow, and the mountains I saw in the distance are coming into view. The river continues to narrow, and a gate appears before the boat. I realize we’re beginning to slow as we approach huge wooden doors. On either side of the gate are enormous hooded skeletons. They look to be carved in the likeness of Charon. Above the door is the arm of one of the skeletons, they make a tilted cross. Each skeleton holds a scythe in their hand. Charon taps his scythe twice and the doors on the gate start to open. As the doors open, the sound of the water being pushed against the ragged, rocky shore sounds, as does the hinges of the giant doors moaning in strain. Through the crack I see red. As the doors open wider, the brighter the red gets, and I can feel the heat. The boat continues its journey forward, moving us through the doors, stopping soon after. Charon taps his scythe three times and the skeleton stairs appear.

  “Unfortunately, this is where our journey ends. I will see you again, Finley. It was a pleasure,” Charon states.

  “Thank you.” I look and see that Verkor, Obsidian, and Stolas are already on the bank. I quickly follow. Stolas gathers me close.

  “Welcome to the first level of hell, love. This is limbo.”

  I honestly don’t know what to say as I take in my surroundings. We’re standing on an ashen dirt path that stretches out in front of us. No more than a few yards on either side of us is cracked dirt, but the cracks are filled with lava. There’s nothing here except a stone temple that sits far back from the path. The temple reminds of something straight out of ancient Greece. I gaze above me and see that the sky is a grayish white. The clouds are rapidly moving.

  “Um, Stolas, is the sky supposed to be doing that?” I question. Stolas looks up.

  “Yeah, those are the souls,” he responds nonchalantly.

  “You mean the ones that want to jump into my body?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry love, that won’t be happening today,” he says, giving me a quick hug.

  “So, what’s that temple for?” It’s the building in sight. There is literally nothing in this level besides the souls, ash, dirt, and lava.

  “Oh, that is the Temple of Souls. Not a very clever name if you ask me. The temple is where Ramiel pops in from time to time to check on the souls,” Stolas replies.

  “Who the hell is that?” I ask as we walk down the path that looks like it leads nowhere.

  “He’s the demon that guards this level.”

  “What are the chances that he’ll pop in here?” I question.

  “Not high. He’s hardly ever here,” he states.

  Why doesn’t that make me feel better?

  Obsidian

  I fucking hate limbo. It’s my second least favorite level of hell. The violence level wins the top honor. Limbo is filled with worthless souls just floating about. There are several reasons why the fuc
kers wait here. Some of them are begging for a chance to go to Heaven, to meet God. Some are too scared to move forward and face their punishment in hell. Then you have the souls that don’t want to be here. They believe they died too early and try to jump into any able body that walks through this level. Stolas and I crowd closer to Finley. I can already see the swirling of souls that would love to take over her luscious body.

  “Stolas,” I warn. He turns and sees what I do.

  “We need to move and move fast,” he replies. He turns and looks Finley dead in her eyes. “You have to stay close. Do not let any of those souls get close to you.”

  Resolve sets into her body. “I won’t,” she replies.

  “We have a few miles to travel before we reach the gate to the next level. Everyone stick together and move fast.”

  “Okay.” I watch as Finley pulls a dagger from each boot, but there's something strange about them.

  “What kind of blades are those?” I ask.

  “Hell blades,” she replies. My eyes widen. Hell blades are rare. They’re forged from the very fire of hell and are said to be able to kill any creature or supernatural that resides here. How the hell did she get her hands on some when it’s clear she’s never been to hell?

  “How did you get those?” She shrugs her shoulders.

  “How do I get anything I have?”

  “You stole them. From who?”

  “I don’t know his name, but it was a demon. He had four horns. Two curled forward around the side of his head, and two more that stuck out from the center of those and arched up.”

  I whip my gaze in Stolas’ direction. There’s no way. There is only one demon that I know of that has horns like that. “Stolas?”

  He starts shaking his head from side to side. “Please tell me you didn’t?” he whispers. Finley moves her gaze to Stolas, a frown marring her face.

  “What’s the big deal?” She clearly doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. And we have to hope like hell we don’t run into him.

  “You stole hell blades from Abaddon, the King of the Abyss,” Stolas answers.

  “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” she asks, with no idea how much danger she put herself in. I scoff. She clearly has no regard for her life.

  “If Abaddon chooses, he could throw you into the abyss. It’s a pit that tears you apart, breaking your mind first, then your spirit, then your soul, and once it’s done with that, it breaks apart your body. The abyss is something that you cannot come back from. It’s where souls go to be unmade. Only the truly vile and cruel are sent there.”

  “So, basically you’re saying that I stole from possibly the strongest demon in hell, aside from Lucifer himself.” Stolas and I nod at her statement. “Well, we better fucking hope that we don’t run into him then.” On that, we agree. She shivers, finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

  I turn back to the souls that are circling overhead. “We need to get moving. There are more souls hovering.” I look back to Finley. “Keep those blades ready. They can harm the souls. If any get near you, lash out.”

  Finley nods and has her blades at the ready. If I wasn’t so worried about getting her through this level without getting jumped, I would have taken her right then and there. She has no idea how much she turns me on when she goes into warrior mode. We form a triangle around her and start to move. We don’t get more than a few feet before one soul gets brave enough to try and swoop down. Stolas shifts, lunging at the soul. The smart ones know to stay away from a hellhound. They are the guardians of the underworld. One bite or swipe from them is a one-way ticket to their own personal hell. Hell have mercy on the soul that tries to harm a hellhound’s mate. The soul backs off but causes more of a frenzy from the souls circling above. We pick up the pace.

  “I thought fearing that I would get jumped was going to be the worst part about this, but it’s not. It’s the whining coming from the souls,” Finley says between breaths. She’s practically at a run to keep up with the pace we’re setting, but we need to get her out of here. The gateway is about a quarter mile away, when all the souls that were circling, descend.

  “Incoming!” I yell.

  Verkor and I turn our backs to Finley, while Stolas backs his ass up right against her, effectively trapping her in between us. I should have asked Stolas for a piece of his flesh, but it’s never occurred to me to do so. I reach in my bag, grabbing the handles of the swords I packed. The blades sing as I pull them from their scabbards. These are pretty much useless as well, but it makes the souls separate. It takes them a while to pull all their particles back together and should give us just enough time to reach the gate.

  I lash out at the soul closest to me, separating its particles. I turn going after the next. My mind zones out and becomes singular in my focus. Separate anything in my path, protect my mate. They come at me from left and right. I swing my swords, turning in every direction. My chest is heaving from the exertion, by the time I clear the space around me. A scream tears through the air.

  Finley.

  I turn and see that I have stepped away from my mate as I was attacking the souls. Verkor and Stolas did as well. Finley was left alone, and a soul made its way to her. I see her trying to fight against it. I take off at a run toward her. I’m a few feet away from her when she gets an arm up, stabbing the hell blade through the heart of the soul trying to jump her. The soul screams and bursts into flames. Finley drops to the ashen ground. I pick up my pace. Her hellhound makes it to her before I do. I watch as he tips his head back and howls. Smoke plumes from his nose. I fall to my knees beside her, Verkor following seconds behind me. Her eyes are closed, but there is a steady rise and fall of her chest. She’s alive. I gather her in my arms, needing her close. I place my hand on her neck, needing to feel the rhythm of her pulse under my fingers.

  “We need to get her out of here,” Verkor states.

  I know he’s right, but I need to see her eyes. I need to see the storm that rages in them. Stolas shifts back and is now kneeling next to us. His hands reach out, and I understand the need to touch her. To reassure himself that she is still alive, but I don't think any of us are going to breathe until she opens her eyes.

  “Finley, love, please,” Stolas whines. “Open those beautiful gray eyes for me.”

  I shake her slightly, hoping to rouse her. Stolas whines again. I lift my gaze from Finley to meet Stolas’ red eyes. They are pleading with me to fix her, but I can’t. Finley has to wake up on her own. I open my mouth to voice that when Finley moans. All of us let out a collective sigh.

  “Fin?” Stolas says her name like a question. She groans, clenching her eyes tight. “Please, love, look at me. I need you to open your eyes,” Stolas pleads. She must hear something in his voice, because she slowly opens her eyes. She blinks a few times, like she’s trying to clear the fog from them. Stolas dips his head toward her, his shoulders shaking. Finley reaches a hand up and runs her fingers through his black hair. It seems to calm him.

  “Wh-what happened?” she asks, turning her head toward me.

  “You were being jumped by a soul,” I explain. “You killed it but you’re feeling the aftereffects.”

  “Explains a lot.” She moves her head to look at Stolas who still hasn’t moved. “Are you all right, Stolas?” Stolas looks up, tears trail down his cheeks.

  “I was so worried, love. I saw that soul trying to jump you, and I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I thought I was going to lose you. Then you stabbed it, but you collapsed and didn’t move, and I thought I lost you anyway.”

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she says with a smirk. I snort. Leave it to Finley to try to make a joke as she lays almost helpless in my arms. “Can we get out of this level, because I hate it.”

  “Of course, doll.” I stand, lifting her with me.

  “Obsidian, please,” Stolas begs.

  He holds out his arms. For some reason he’s taking this harder that Verkor and me. I�
�m going to have to ask him about it later. I glance over at the unseelie fae, who’s been oddly quiet, and see relief in his eyes. Finley is awake and talking. There is no way she’s strong enough to walk out of here. I see the need in Stolas’ eyes. His hellhound is riding him hard. I gently place Finley in his arms. He gathers her close, burying his nose in her hair.

  “Let’s get you out of here, love. You’re going to be hungry and tired.” Stolas turns and starts walking toward the gate. Verkor and I gather our bags and follow after him.

  Stolas

  I finally figured out what’s different about Finley. But I can’t say anything. Not now. I will once we get the piece of the map and get out of here. I’ll say something once we’re back home. Until then, I’ll keep this secret to myself. I pull Finley closer to me. She wraps her arms around my neck. There’s no way I can let her go right now.

  “Are you ready to see the second level?” I ask.

  “Yup.” There’s tiredness in her voice.

  I walk through the shimmery gateway that resembles the gateways we use to travel from realm to realm. It differs because you don’t have to say where you want to go before stepping through. No, these gateways only take you to the next level of hell.

  “Welcome to the second level of hell. Lust.”

  Chapter 3

  Finley

  Oh. My. God. There are bright lights, and the steady thumping of music coming from nearby buildings. Stolas chuckles.

  “If you could see the look on your face,” he laughs.

  “I-I mean, I didn’t expect to see this.”

  “See, I told you hell’s not all doom and gloom.”

  “I can see that. I do have a question though.” I look up at Stolas with a serious expression on my face. “How the hell do you have electricity down here?” Stolas’ body shakes from the force of his laughter, and I smile. I like seeing him happy. I hated the tears I saw in his eyes earlier. The utter despair.

  “We get our lights from the souls of the damned.”

  “I don’t think I want you to elaborate.”