Better off Dead Book Two

by Odette C. Bell

  Then there were the kids in the playground. I was standing under a massive gnarled oak tree. It was huge, and its bark looked as if it had been churned up by time and stuck back on with glue. I pressed my small, sweaty hand against it as I watched the other children play. They never invited me. They had once or twice, but I’d always screamed and run away, crying that I would kill them. And there was only so long kids could be patient with behavior like that.

  I sat at the side of the group, ostracized, not just physically, but mentally. As I let my gaze dart over everyone’s happy faces, I wondered why I’d been brought to this world.

  Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the present. That monkey ghost had me by the throat. He was trying to kill me, but there was no way he could. That, of course, did not stop him from putting in his best effort. As his clawed fingers tightened around my neck, I slipped back into my broken memories. They rushed around me like water from a cracked dam.

  I was standing back in the playground. Now I was older. There were marks all over my hands. I didn’t know exactly how old I was, but I guessed from how tall I was standing and the vantage I now had that I had to be in my teens.

  I glanced down at the marks on my hands. They were dug all the way into my palms as if someone had been carving them with a knife.

  I yanked my head up to see a quick wind racing through the grounds.

  I watched the older kids. They knew what I was doing as I stared at them, and they suspiciously kept their distance. I heard them muttering. They said I screamed in my sleep. And they said when it got really bad, the whole room would shake.

  As a few more tears trickled down my cheeks, I clenched my hands into fists. I dragged my nails over my palms as I tried to excavate those symbols from me, but they would not be shifted.

  I went to turn away, to run, but I couldn’t. The safety of that old oak was the only haven I had.

  When the kids started calling me names and tears trailed down my cheeks, I finally pulled away. I went to run. There was no point in staying in this orphanage if no one wanted me here. But I scarcely got a step when I thought I felt something on my shoulder. It was this transient sensation. It did not and could not last, but as it held me to the spot, I swore someone was with me. It took my breath away as I jerked my head up and looked around, but there was no one by my side.

  I was suddenly yanked violently back into the present. Those ghosts were dragging me now. As my head banged up against the street, I waited for the blood to trickle out of me, but I knew it wouldn’t. I couldn’t even sweat, let alone bleed in this realm.

  As they dragged me, they continued to punch and kick me, never missing an opportunity for revenge. But all too soon, my mind was dragged back, back into that broken past. Now I stood there, right in front of the orphanage on my sixteenth birthday. As a particularly long, golden dusk turned into night, I heard screams from within.

  I knew this memory. Even though only half of my mind now functioned, it was the most traumatic event in my life, so it didn’t take me long to bring the facts of the matter to mind.

  This was the very date and time of the fire. In a few minutes, the entire orphanage would be engulfed in flames. And I’d see Sonos, striding through the halls, his hands outstretched, Hell symbols playing over his skin, and a deep smile spreading across his lips.

  I screamed, clamped my hands over my ears, and fell down in my memory. I waited to see Sonos, but Sonos I did not see. Instead, surrounding the orphanage from all sides, I watched as priests, clad in purple and black, came seemingly out of nowhere. They began to chant, their sonorous hums filling the air. As those dark words were incanted, they ignited the very sky. This giant blood-red symbol spread across the dying dusk. It encircled the orphanage.

  “What?” I stammered through a trembling breath. “What’s happening? This... this isn’t true. These are not my real memories.”

  I didn’t know why I could interact with this memory, but I could. Though I knew that on that day I hadn’t done this, now I fell to my knees, clutching my face as hard as I could until half-moon imprints were embedded in my temples.

  “This isn’t what happened,” I screamed again. But then I became so breathless, I couldn’t utter a single word.

  From behind me, through the open gates of the orphanage, I saw a man in deep purple robes striding my way. There was no doubting who it was. Hilliker. At first, his hands were in the pockets of his robe, but then he drew them out. There were these chaotic symbols playing in the center of his palms. Though I would not have recognized them in the past, now I understood what they were. They reminded me exactly of that black light that had invaded his face and hollowed out his eyes.

  It was the Banished.

  I remained there on my knees, my whole body quaking. “This is not what happened,” I stammered once more, now so breathless, I could barely push those words out. It was as if someone had punched me in the diaphragm.

  Hilliker reached me. With those chaotic symbols playing across his palms, he grabbed my shoulders. He turned me around, and I stared into his blazing gaze. The energy of it was unmistakably chaotic. As I stared deeply into his pupils, it felt as if chaos itself was rising up from the depths of reality to claim me.

  “It will begin now, Child of the Deep,” he said in a grating, pounding voice that sounded like someone drilling through the center of the Earth.

  I tried to jerk away from him, but there was nowhere to go. His grip was complete.

  “No,” I hissed, my voice raspy.

  “You cannot run from destiny. Not when it has you by the throat.” He made his point by pushing in and wrapping his blazing fingers around my neck.

  I had a chance to choke and splutter, then I was dragged violently back into the present. Once more I lay there as I was dragged further up the road. We reached some building. It was the same place I’d seen earlier – the one that had functional walls and a ceiling, but no floor at all. I instinctively knew that they would throw me down into that black void. Somehow it would be even worse than this place was.

  I tried to fight it, but then abruptly, I stopped. What was the point? This was the end, anyhow.

  I closed my eyes, ready to submit to eternity.

  Then I was dragged back once more. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Even if I’d had access to my full force, I doubted I would have tried to resist, anyway. For the first time in my life I was learning what had really occurred back then, long ago.

  Hilliker had me up by the throat. The chaos from his symbols suddenly spilled into me. As it cascaded around my body, reaching higher then higher again, I felt energy pulsing out of me.

  I had always assumed that I had been cursed with the resurrection affliction on my sixteenth birthday. Right then and there I learned something different.

  “It all begins with the first death,” Hilliker said, fervor and greed playing through his wide-open, black irises as he squeezed one last time.

  Without further fanfare, he snapped my neck.

  I had a chance to fall, right by his feet. Then the holy light of resurrection filled within me.

  It reached high up through my chest, rose through my throat, and forced me to open my mouth wide as my head jerked back. I was lifted off my feet. My arms were spread wide, my fingers opening as if I was trying to grasp all of reality.

  As the resurrection magic swirled and ran within me, Hilliker opened his arms, too, as if he was about to receive the greatest gift there ever was.

  “Come to me, sacrifice like no other. The time to begin is now.”

  He reached toward me, his fingers ready to wrap around my neck once more. Behind him, the orphanage burned. I heard screams, but they were becoming fewer.

  In my heart of hearts, I knew that this was it. There was no one who could save me. That terrifying realization had a chance to settle until it was proved wrong.

  Just before Hilliker could snap my neck again, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was the outline of black
lace wings.

  A demon – Sonos.

  My heart had a chance to leap with hope, but then I was dragged right back into the real world. This time, I gasped, my head thrusting forward.

  I caught sight of my hands, even as the monkey ghost tried to stamp on them. The resurrection marks were still there.

  ... Why? If I had now been punished to wander in Purgatory for the rest of my life, why would these marks still be on me?

  Unless there was hope, of course.

  Unless there was a way to get out of this.

  For the first time, I actively tried to struggle. As that puppet ghost wrapped an arm around my middle and dragged me forward, getting ready to throw me down into that black void of an expanse, I dug my feet in again. I thrust back with my arms. As I recruited every muscle in my body, it threw my torso forward. As I spread my arms, somewhat in the style of when I was resurrected, something jolted forward from my breastbone.

  ... It was the little filigree gold cross. It was somehow still on me. I hadn’t noticed that until now.

  No one verbally threatened me – I doubt they could. While I could hear the sound of my own voice, their screams and grunts were indistinct.

  That guy in the massive cloak who’d jumped off the building grabbed me even as I thrust my arms wider. He brought his hissing mouth close to my ears, but whatever threat he spoke, I could not hear.

  I concentrated on that black void underneath me. Though I now had my cross and I understood my resurrection marks were still there, that did not suddenly mean that I could fight against the horde of ghosts behind me. I needed a way to get out of here.

  Because I now had a reason.

  Previously, I’d claimed that Purgatory was so bad because you lost your soul – and the direction of it in the process. But the broken memories I’d seen flashes of had brought me back to myself. They had given me reason once more.

  Until now, I hadn’t fully believed that Sonos had been telling the truth about the orphanage. Now I understood it deep down in my bones.

  I tilted my head back and screamed even as more ghosts thrust in from behind. As one of them tried to grab me, he lost his footing. He slipped and instantly plunged down that hole into oblivion. For the first time, I distinctly heard his scream. It pierced through this otherwise mute world.

  But then, all too soon, that scream cut out.

  I tried to wrench my arms back and grab my cross, but the ghosts wouldn’t let me.

  Though I had no idea what they were trying to scream at me, I felt their need. Even if they would never be able to get out of Purgatory themselves, their warped and broken souls would take solace in destroying me.

  I wrenched my arm to the side, and another one of those ghosts lost his footing and fell down into the void. This time I paid more attention to it. I stared at the way his body suddenly disappeared in a flash of light.

  Though I didn’t know that much about Purgatory, I understood there were several levels of it. This would probably be the nicest of the available levels. The ones that void led to would be even worse. Perhaps down there you had to walk through cities made of broken corpses. Or maybe you just stayed in a shallow grave for the rest of your life, trying to dig yourself out but never capable of achieving the task.

  The point was, if I allowed myself to be thrown down there, I’d be even worse off than I was now.

  The ghosts tried to push me down with all their might. I somehow found the strength to hold myself to the spot, even as this massive brick-like ghost smashed into me from behind. He forced me forward, my feet now teetering over the edge. I could feel this unholy wind now rushing up from that black expanse. I thought I caught the sounds of never-ending screams on it.

  If I ever got out of here – though I couldn’t conceive of a way of that happening now – I would never pretend that Hell was the worst realm again. There was something so... well, soulless about Purgatory.

  More ghosts joined the rest, trying to force me forward.

  I stared into that expanse just as I wrenched my arm free. That puppet ghost lost his balance. He tried to grab hold of me as his eyes widened in terror. But there was nothing he could do as he was forced forward. He fell down the hole. His scream lasted until there was a blast of light and he was transported.

  ... Though my mind barely worked, suddenly it aligned.

  If that black expanse was a means to transport between the sub realms of Purgatory, maybe I could also use it as a node to get out of here?

  It clearly would not be designed to do that, but a powerful practitioner could use a transport node to take them wherever they wanted to go.

  This was where I had to point out that I was no such practitioner. Instead I stared into the soulless expanse below me. I thought of everything I’d learned. Finally I let my head jerk down as I stared at my cross. It jolted this way and that as more ghosts tried to push me.

  If I clutched it, I’d have to move my hand from my side, and that would allow the ghosts to push me harder.

  But I did it anyway. In a moment of total faith and hope, I grabbed the cross.

  I could not stop myself from being shoved into the void anymore.

  I was pushed. I teetered for a single instant – then I fell.

  Instantly I heard the soul-crushing sound of eternal screams echoing around me. I ignored them, though all they wanted to do was shred the remaining scraps of my soul.

  I concentrated only on the cross under my grip as I begged myself – with every ounce of magic and strength I had – to connect to the portal.

  I felt something opening up just underneath my feet. I thought I caught a glimpse of a realm below this one – one that was made up solely of interconnected graveyards. I saw the half-eaten hands of zombies reaching toward me to welcome me into their fold. But at the last minute, just before I could be wrenched down, I let my magic surge.

  I thrust away the fear – all of it. That even included the terror I had about learning the truth. I threw it up, offering it as a sacrifice instead of myself.

  Then I clutched the cross one last time, and I prayed. As my dearest wish spread out before me, it counteracted the magic spilling through the portal and trying to drag me down. This holy light spread around my form, centering on the cross. It became brighter and brighter until it would have been able to pierce through even the deepest dark. Then in one final snap, it happened. I gained control of the transport node. I pulled myself out of Purgatory.

  No soul had ever done it before. But I was about to learn that I was no ordinary soul. And that was the unfortunate point.

  Chapter 10

  I arrived down on my hands and knees on top of a pile of old broken medical beds. As soon as I saw them, fear bolted through me. It told me that I hadn’t been able to transport out of Purgatory after all, and I’d simply transported sideways back to that hospital node. But then I thought I heard something – cars outside.

  I turned my head up to hear a storm, too. There was a window halfway up the wall. As I inclined my neck and stared at it, I saw rain suddenly drum down. Half of the pane was broken, and the water slid in through, dripping down the wall into a puddle at its base.

  As my gut clenched, expecting that chaotic black writhing substance I’d seen earlier, I stopped.

  ... As I got closer, I realized it was just rain.

  “What?” I dragged my fingers over my forearms, the hair along the back of my neck standing on end as I turned around and around. I waited for Hilliker’s priests and the foul animals that had leaped from his shadows.

  There was nothing.

  Eventually I gained the courage to head out of this room. By listening to the traffic, I made my way outside.

  ... This hospital looked exactly like the one I’d seen in Purgatory, but it couldn’t be in that realm. For as soon as I stepped outside the doors, I heard things. I saw things, too. In the distance, up a rise, there was a highway. Trucks and cars shot across it.

  As I sliced my gaze to the side, I
saw a couple walking up the grassy rise. They weren’t huddled on the ground, rocking back and forth as their souls withered up and died.

  “This is the real world, isn’t it?” I finally realized.

  I suddenly dropped my arms from around my middle. I stared back at the hospital. Obviously Hilliker had used it as some kind of blueprint for the node in Purgatory. I couldn’t tell why, but for that to work, it meant that something truly horrifying had gone down in this place.

  My skin prickled again. Clenching my hands into fists, I wondered if I should go back into the hospital and explore, or run the hell away.

  Then again, where would I go?

  Back to Sister Mary? I didn’t even know where she would be. As for my home, what if the priests utilized that compulsion charm again?

  Suddenly fixing a hand on my cross, I spread my lips quickly. “If they do that, then I’ll fight them.” Closing my eyes, I drew up a memory of when I’d broken through that compulsion charm as easily as someone snapping a dry twig. I held it in my hand – almost literally as I clutched my cross tighter.

  I’m sure this hospital had secrets. But I needed to get out of here.

  I took a step down onto the cracked pavement. That’s when I stopped.

  I turned my head up. There had to have been a reason that Hilliker had taken me to this specific hospital inside Purgatory.

  There was a half-broken sign above the door. I had to get my head at the right angle, but eventually I managed to read it. As my lips moved with soft jerks, terror gripped me. “Saint Williams.”

  I knew that name. I didn’t know why, but it was deep inside me. My hands suddenly clenched into fists, my whole body shaking.

  Why would a hospital mean so much to me?

  “Unless it’s the place you were born,” I answered my own question as my stomach shook.