Thorns of deceit the bea.., p.14
An Unexpected Ascension, page 14
Fingertips from dangling limbs tickle my shoulders as I pass, and I will myself not to think about it. Between all the groans are the scratches of beetles scurrying up the walls, between eye sockets and hiding in slack jaws. Disgust courses through me in violent tremors, goosebumps pebbling my skin.
The darkness in the fissure of the canyon is like the dead of night, save for a shadow of the sky miles above. Slowly, that dim light grows brighter into a glowing red. Eager to be free of this Hell hole, I pick up my pace, my feet stumbling over the debris littering the ground. It’s when hope turns into certainty that my foot catches on something. I tug, afraid to avert my eyes from the finish line as if it will move just out of reach, but my foot isn’t budging.
I look down and wrapped around my ankle is a fist, skin shredded and missing in patches. A lump forms in my throat, a scream ready to be hurtled or vomit threatening its way up, I’m not sure. As my mouth opens to purge, a garbled scream is cut short by more clear essence. I was really hoping I would never produce that substance again.
Before I can pull myself together enough to wrangle my ankle free, that deep growl purrs from behind me again. Every muscle in my body tenses, my breathing stops, and I go utterly still. Not a single shiver of fear do I allow to roll through me.
The beast inches closer, hunched forward in a predatory stance, assessing his prey. In my periphery, a head the size of a lion’s, but with slick black fur, peers around level with my face. As I get a better look, the beast resembles a panther, but thicker, more muscular with yellow, menacing eyes.
It sniffs me, the air puffing from his nostrils blowing my hair into my eyes. I can’t see, but I wouldn’t dare make a move now. In a growl loud enough to render me deaf, it flaunts endless rows of teeth like sharpened daggers, each one a weapon on their own.
Like a cat with a mouse, it lingers, toying with me. Waiting for me to make just a subtle twitch so it can pounce. With swift, brutal moves, it would tear into me and eat me whole. I would be left as nothing but the very corpses I said I would rather be... before it became a possibility.
With a small step forward, the beast’s paw crushes the corpse that has imprisoned me, it’s grip now slack. Yet, I do not move.
It circles me, smelling the fear that’s inevitably leaking with every bead of sweat. A black so deep it absorbs any fraction of light caging me in a shadow. The darkness so, so blinding.
I force myself to stay perfectly still, carefully weighing how to make my next move. It seems I’m caught between making a run for it or waiting to see if I’ll be this animal’s next dinner.
As if the beast senses my thoughts, it flashes its canines again. Long, thick, and sharp like whittled spears ready for battle. Being dinner does not sound like an enticing thought, but still I wait. Fear, a paralyzing drug, tainting my blood and seizing my muscles. Even my heart has paused its useless tremors.
Minutes, hours, lifetimes – I could not say, but eventually the beast decides it’s not interested. Those little pants of soft breath disappear, the hound sauntering off behind me. Only, I still do not move. My feet stay glued to the thick sludge coating the ground made of decaying guts that have seen too much rainfall.
I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Then, with a deep inhale that stretches my lungs, I bolt.
My feet cut across the uneven floor of the canyon, my thighs swishing with haste. My chest aches like it never did in Heaven, the exertion here just like on Earth. With the black sands now sinking beneath me, I wobble, unbalanced from the change of terrain, but force myself to press on.
Except, it makes no difference.
I feel it before I hear it. The thick, razor-like teeth that sinks deep into my forearm, the crunch of bone, my deafening roar of pain. That growl as a shadowed black beast swallows my sight. That red sky I yearned to see now vanished, shaded by a void of evil.
As I’m ripped from where I stand, sharp daggers spear through the flesh of my skin, tearing through muscle and sinew. Blood starts to drip in heavy rivulets from where the teeth are still buried into me like a chew toy for a beastly dog.
It whips its head, flailing my body and slamming my back against the sands. Pain explodes within me, little shivers of agony spreading throughout.
There’s a cloud of terror starting to fog my mind, littered with nightmares. What will become of me? Will I truly be just another corpse that rots away for eternity? Will I be ripped to shreds and fed to this beast only to be shit out in the end?
Suddenly, I wish for a death I will never see. I pray, to maybe even Lucifer, to save my soul from this torment I do not deserve.
Agony – writhing, consuming, agony.
My voice grows course with the endless screaming.
I’m desperate, so desperate to escape, to end this madness!
“NEIN! AUS!”
Those demands echo in my head, shattering in pieces. The hound immediately retracts its fangs from my arm, blood spurting from the wounds. My eyes widen in horror at the gaping holes in my skin, my bone splintered and glistening beneath the blood oozing by the bucketful. The injury itself would have been enough. Yet, here in Hell, there’s only eternal pain and misery. No comfort in knowing the end will be here soon.
“LAUF!”
With a dismissive wave, the beast skitters off and the demon saunters closer to my discarded body. I lie there clutching my arm, bathing in my own blood. The sand burns my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the shock of torment brought on by the demon’s pet.
Tears flood my eyes, blurring the image of the deranged man standing at my head with his hands behind his back. Though I can hardly see, I don’t miss the amusement playing amongst his features, that little grin and the twinkle in those never-ending pools of blue.
“Looks like you might need my niceties after all, Angel. We can think of ways you can repay me on our journey to the gates, yeah?”
“F-fuck. Y-you!” Spit flies from my lips, joining the tears and sweat already coating my face.
He kneels, brushing a strand of hair away that was stuck to my forehead.
“Is that what you’re willing to give me? If I heal you here?”
I shake my head, my eyes closing on more tears.
“Well, I don’t think you’re in a good position to negotiate here. The way I see it, you have two choices: stay here and let that Hell Hound finish you off, or let me heal your arm and you can serve me anyway I see fit.”
Another shiver courses through me. My body trembles in pain as I roll to my side and vomit again. That clear fluid mixes along with the puddle of blood growing beneath me. I can’t think straight, the only thing my mind can seem to understand is the pain. It’s the worst I’ve ever felt.
Except that time... An image flashes behind my eyes, brutal and violent, but it’s cut short by another suffocating wave of agony rendering me brain dead.
I nod.
I nod so fiercely that I can feel those sharp teeth now sinking their way into my neck.
A sob bellows from my guts, hurtling from between my lips. Merely hours into Hell and I’ve already sold my soul. This can’t get any worse.
With hands surprisingly gentle, the demon pushes me to sit. I cradle my limp arm, sticky and wet with blood trying to dry.
“This is going to hurt, but only for a second.”
My eyes bulge as a scream rushes from my throat. His hands only tighten around the wounds on my forearm. He twists, wiping his palms through the thick clotting along my skin. He rubs and, in a minute, those gaping holes are stringing together, sewing itself from the inside out.
One torturous second the pain is unbearable, and the next, it’s gone completely. As if it had never existed in the first place. The only evidence of the incident lies wet along my skin and clothes, crimson and still dripping.
My mouth gapes in awe at the wonders of such a power and to be used by a demon no less.
“Can we move along now?” he asks, offering a hand that I shove away.
I push to my feet, a bit unsteady with shock.
Hell feels a lot like being alive.
Chapter 20
The Demon
Shivering, pale, doused in blood.
Yet, those shoulders are pulled back and chin held high as she marches toward the black sea.
I trail behind, contemplating what it is I feel inside my soulless heart. A part of me wanted to leave her to the Hell Hound, to let her succumb to a fate her ancestors have before her. Only, I couldn’t.
That scream tore through me, clawing at something deep inside, tugging at invisible strings. Like a puppet in my own body, I ran to her. A bloody, crying mess. That glittering crimson flood beneath her paling skin. It was magnificent and yet, that relentless strumming inside my chest acting all on its own.
Then, I thought to myself, what a perfect predicament we have found ourselves in. The Fentonelli girl in desperate need of my help. Oh, the fun I can have with this!
She wanted so badly not to need me, but an eternity in pain didn’t seem like the type of afterlife she sought.
The short distance to the sea was quiet between us, a traumatic fog clinging to her like the blood she wears. The moment her eyes spy the water she’s marching straight for it. Without stopping, she submerges herself, rubbing her skin clean.
This poor, delusional girl.
“Where do you think you are?” I bite, storming for her, my fingers wrapping around her bicep in a bruising grip.
“Get off me!”
I haul her out of the water, throwing her to the sand and in that very moment, another one of Hell’s beasts comes shooting up from the surface. Scaly like a crocodile, but much larger. Gnarly, sharp teeth snap in warning, greedy for an entire meal. It lingers, the rough green skin nearly so dark, it blends in with the color of the black sea. Its eyes flit open, watching us as its head rests on the surface.
“It seems I’ve saved you twice now from becoming animal feed.”
Briar rolls her eyes, wiping off the remainder of blood now thinned with water.
“Let’s not kid ourselves. I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you. So, the way I see it, it’s your job to keep me safe.”
I snicker, “Oh, Angel. You’ve got quite a mouth on you. I’m eager to see what else it can do.”
“Ugh!”
She spins on her heels, offering me her back while I call for Charon. As we wait, the sea beast finally creeps back to where it came from, quickly replaced by the familiar rowboat.
“What a pleasure it is, to see my friend again so soon,” the creature greets with a ghastly smile.
“Charon.” I nod to him before summoning the unruly female behind me who’s yet to follow. “Come now, Angel.”
With bewilderment glowing brightly in those jade green eyes, she stomps toward the boat. I lift her inside before climbing in.
“My lady.” The demon bows his head to her, and to my surprise Briar only grimaces.
“Woman? Very much so. Lady?” I chuckle. “No, there’s no lady here, friend.”
He quirks an eye socket, veins dried up decorating the surrounding bone.
“You are relentless,” she grumbles before turning to the figure hooded by an ancient cloak. “Briar. My name is Briar. Not Lady, not Angel, not woman, but Briar.”
A slow, decrepit smile forms across his boney face.
“My apologies, Briar. A friend of Hermes is a friend of mine.”
He reaches a skinless hand toward her and hesitantly she shakes it. I can see the curiosity hiding behind her eyes, wondering what he is, who he is.
“Oh, we’re not friends. I could never be friends with a demon that’s damned me for selfish reasons.”
“Selfish?” He urges as he pushes us off the shore and into the sea. “I’ve seen many scorned angels befallen from grace by the hands of your demon here, but never for reasons beyond duty.”
“And duty called,” I add in.
A scoff, coughed out by said Lady. She plants herself on the middle bench, away from me, but closer to Charon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single fallen angel get so comfortable around the Demon of the Sea.
“And what about your duties forced me to seek out the Tree of Knowledge?” she snaps, her head whipping my way as if it could yield a sword with a decapitating blow.
“Oh! Hermes, what duties indeed?”
“And not to mention taunting my angelhood with demon kisses! The threats to... dirty me in front of my God! This one—”
“Charon,” he offers his name.
“This one, Charon, is evil through and through! Selfish, soulless, bastard!”
My eyes linger on her breasts, the rise and fall with each worked up breath. Yes, all those things and more, Angel. I am depraved, vindictive, and wretched. She hasn’t even seen the worst of it yet and she’s already seething.
Charon’s brow bone stretches up in surprise, the skin still stuck to his cheek wrinkling with the effort.
“You kissed her? In Heaven?” he asks me.
“On neutral grounds between our worlds, but yes.”
“My friend, I think you’ve lost me. I might be on the angel’s side this time.”
The night is quiet, the sea as steady as tinted glass. It would have been a serene ride, slowly coasting under the blood moon, if it wasn’t for the gaining up on.
“Selfish I may be, but have you ever known me to do a thing without good reason?”
He thinks on it, rowing that ore ever so slowly.
“He speaks the truth, Briar. Hermes is driven by duty, by a deep seeded need for justice and perhaps – bear with me – he overlooked some detail while after the bigger picture.”
“Don’t stick up for him!” she growls.
Charon only chuckles. “Already caught between my only two friends.”
There was an intensity sizzling in the air as silence struck our tongues. I had nothing left to say, there was no defending myself. My reasons for damning Briar were purely selfish, but not to eradicate her – what do I call that?
Briar is the last Fentonelli to exist, and should she have had any children while alive, they would’ve endured her curse. Though none ever came. There must be a Freudian explanation as to why I haven’t found it in myself to end this bloodline once and for all because time and time again, I’ve fought for it. Yet, I memorize that scowl on her full, heart-shaped lips, the wrinkle of disgust on her pixielike nose, and the hypnotic color like raw power emanating in her eyes.
No, Briar will be of more use to me existing than not. I’ll be sure of it.
Lost inside the mayhem of my own mind, it misses me that Charon is telling Briar his whole life story. Not something he’s done with anyone other than me.
We only get to the part where the Demon of the Sea meets yours truly when we’re slowing, the bow of the boat nearing the molten shores.
“Well, here we are.” He offers his hand to Briar, helping her disembark.
The angel makes very little waves as she slips into the sea, taking both Charon’s hands in hers.
“It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we can remain friends, I’m sure I’ll need them.”
“Of course, my dear. Come by any time if you would like a little adventure out at sea.”
Grumbling, I swing my legs over the boat's edge, my landing causing more fuss.
“You’ve never given me that offer.”
“Hermes, you venture these seas often enough. You know you’re always welcome.”
With a solute, Charon departs, leaving us to climb the rocky ledge to the shore. I would warn Briar not to stick a hand in the glowing crevices, but a part of me wouldn’t mind to see it.
Though, the steam bellowing from the cracks might be warning enough.
“Any other creatures I should be aware of?” she asks as we close in on the Portae Inferi.
The shreds of skin decorating the trees do not stop her in her tracks, nor do the screams echoing between their earthly bodies.
“Apart from the Hell Hounds, just the crows. They can be nasty little buggers. Perhaps a straggler that’s never found the gates.”
She steps onto the path without hesitation. The earlier incident, hardly but a thing of the past. With her back to me, I can see her pale skin peek through tears in the fabric of her black shirt. Her denim shorts, heavy with blood and water.
Bones crunch beneath her feet as she follows the winding trail. Keeping to it will lead you straight to the gates, it’s hoping the chase from a Hell Hound won’t throw you too far off.
“Bits and pieces are... coming back to me,” she shares begrudgingly.
“Your memories?” I clarify.
“Mhm. In Heaven, they allow you to have access to them, but it seems only the good ones.” She swallows. “When that... thing—” she refers to the hound, “—was attempting to tear my arm off, something came back to me.”
“I’m no head doctor, but by all means share. It will make this journey less boring.”
“I’m glad my trauma is amusing to you.”
“Your trauma is nothing to me. I care very little about you or what happened to you on Earth. Care little what happens next, but perhaps it will drone out that incessant screeching from the crows.”
She spins, slamming straight into my chest. The palms of her hands already planted and pushing with all her might – little as that may be against Lucifer’s Second. I don’t budge, but she does, stumbling back a couple feet.
“Fuck you!”
Barely made it out of Heaven and that mouth of hers can’t keep that hateful curse out of it.
“I’m not usually one to pass up a woman’s offer, but these woods aren’t much for anything but horror. Don’t need scraps of skin falling from these trees should I take you upon one.”
Her lips pinch in fury while mine curl up into a vicious smile.
“Or perhaps we find one a little cleaner, yeah?”
“Ugh!” she growls, storming back off in the direction she was going.
