by Riley Hunt
This was sounding a little too good to be true. There had to be a catch. I hated to admit it, but Davos had managed to capture my attention.
“I’ll take the bait. What will you get out of this?”
“All I ask is for you to bring me back a soul or two. The more you bring back, the greater your reward. My body is decaying faster than I would like, and I need your assistance to rectify that. Eating the parted souls will reverse this damage and bring me back to my prime.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Can you afford to make an enemy out of me? Word on the street is that you don’t have as many friends as you used to. We wouldn’t want to let it slip that you’re losing your power and are weak. As you know, the weak don’t survive here. The weak get chopped up and sold for body parts. Or enslaved.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.
“Only one job.”
Davos agreed with a nod. “That is all I am asking you for.”
“I mean it.” I wagged my finger in the air. “Don’t double-cross me, or next time, I will make sure you never find me.”
Davos laughed. It came out like a joyous sound. “This time, your disappearing act was sufficient, but I still managed to find you. I will always be able to find you. I have many daemons and humans at my disposal. Everyone can be bought. Everyone has their price.”
I wanted to come back with something snarky, but I actually hadn’t been trying to hide from anyone. At least, not this time.
“I have back-up plans,” I said. “I know Helius like the palm of my hand. If I, as it so happens, wanted to disappear, I would. Not even the DOD could find me.”
It was the truth. For the past six months, I had been scoping out a cavern away from the city and all the daemons. After a few excursions, I had managed to clear the majority of it from the infestation of rats, blood mites, and imps. No one could find me. There was enough space for some of the Earth relics I’d collected, like books and knick-knacks of all sorts. After trading some pretty valuable items, I also had managed to snag some seeds. The seller wasn’t sure if anything would grow in the wasteland, but it didn’t hurt to try.
I could live the rest of eternity all alone. Just how I wanted it. People complicated things, and that was more than I could handle.
“I have no doubt in your talents. This is the reason I am seeking your assistance. I hate to admit this, but you are, unfortunately, the best that Helius has.” He offered me his hand, which I hesitantly took. “Go to the gate. I’ve heard whispers that a Reaper is dropping off a soul, and that would make the perfect opportunity for you to slip out of Helius.”
This was getting annoying. I needed Davos to shut up already, and there was only one way to get some peace and quiet. “Fine. I will do it.”
“Remember, Vex, I am not a Lord you want to trifle with. If you run into any problems, you show my mark.”
I hated this part about jobs. These damn Lords loved marking what they thought was their property.
I sighed and extended my arm.
Davos wrapped his cool hand around and squeezed, and the air filled with the scent of burning flesh. I bit down on the tip of my tongue to stop myself from crying out.
The mark of his hand etched into my skin but disappeared within a minute.
“Don’t fuck this up.”
That was all I needed to hear. Before heading out the door, I grabbed a bottle of scotch from behind the counter. I managed to drink most of it before handing the bottle off to some beggar in the corner.
Chapter Three
Ana
The harsh aroma of raw sewage stung in the early hours. As my nose crinkled, I reminded myself that it had been, at one point, far worse. The Middle Ages through to the Age of Enlightenment had been horrific. Populations exploded beyond anticipated, even the Black Death hadn’t taken too much of a hit in humanities numbers. If anything, the smells became stronger from the decayed bodies that were abandoned all over. But hygiene practices had begun to change during the Industrial Age. It took the humans that long to realize that dumping their feces in the streets and in the water sources caused sickness. I was thankful they’d finally got the message.
The sun peeked through the sky and welcomed us to another glorious day. I didn’t need as much sleep as a human would, since I tended to stay up into the dark stretches of the night. I preferred the night, as the darkness and loneliness seemed to soak into my bones. Mortals, on the other hand, did everything they could to avoid loneliness, even at the cost of their happiness.
I didn’t need happiness, and loneliness had always been an affectionate companion.
Any minute now, the doorway would appear—the one that transferred me into the realm of the afterlife and the Hall of Judgment, where it was determined where souls would go. They could be sent to Helius, sentenced for a period of time for their heinous sins, or to Purgatory to wait and learn how they should have acted in order to do better next time before being sent back. Purgatory was also where the home office existed.
Lately, the number of souls ascending had lessened to such a degree that no one had made it to the real Heaven in years. Most thought it was because people were more corrupt, but I disagreed. People were no more corrupt than they had ever been before in history. There were still murderers, rapists, slavery, racism, cheating, lying, and stealing, but, damn, even Mother Teresa was sitting her amazingly kind and honest-to-good ass in purgatory right now waiting to return. It made little sense.
The door appeared, wooden and worn. Different doors appeared each time. Sometimes, they were significant to the soul, and sometimes, they were just a random-ass door. This was a random door. Far be it from me to question the ways of the powers that be. I snorted as I wrapped my long leather trench coat closer around my body.
Even Angels felt the bite of the cold, except maybe Lucifer. Human folklore was right about him being notorious for running hot as Helius when it pleased him. Lucifer was, without a doubt, once the most powerful of us. At one point, he was the right hand of our creator, the favored son, made with the raw power that has never been given to our kind since. The original fallen Angel was the creator’s greatest creation before mankind. As the story goes, Lucifer rebelled, coveting what he shouldn’t, something the creator had bestowed to our charges and not to us—the honor of a soul, a gift of true eternity and the promise of pure happiness earned rightfully through time and learning.
The creator didn’t forget disobedience among his children, Lucifer included, and the punishment had been severe.
So, with his pride and anger, Lucifer brought sin to Earth—and with it? Death. That was when God created us, the Angels of Death, the Reapers, so we could herald Adam and Eve and all their descendants into the next life for eternity. In some way, I could say I was created because of Lucifer’s disobedience. Maybe, if I ever had the unlucky occurrence of meeting him, I could thank him. But most likely not, since he was all evil and stuff.
It didn’t matter anyway. Lucifer had gone off the grid many years ago. No one knew or had been able to find him. As a result, the place once known as Hell became Helius. Damn near a democracy. The fiery pits were now a thriving community, a stinky, sulfur-smelling, hot as… well, what Helius was known for.
Helius had a system of punishment more akin to working sins away than horrendous torture. But in my mind, it sounded like a work camp.
I snorted again at my thoughts as the door opened, releasing a blinding light. With the back of my hand, I shielded against the intensity before my eyes adjusted, then I walked forward, feeling the tendril of power of the other as I came closer before letting it wash over me and caress my skin. It was intoxicating.
The Hall of Judgment formed around me little by little as I stood in a room of nothing but bright light, waiting as the other world dimension began to take place. For humans, this was an unnerving experience, one that either scared them or left them in awe, when, in fact, it wasn’t all that impressive. It was just a room with an enorm
ous brass scale. I often wondered if the mortals took some bits of information stored in their subconscious with them when they returned because modern-day courtrooms appeared eerily similar.
The courtroom was bare aside from Ephriam, the Judge of Mortals, who, as usual, sported cracked lips that pursed together. His eyes were the most unnerving eyes I had ever seen. They lacked any genuine emotion and remained neutral as he neither hated nor loved anything nor anyone. Compassion was not an ability he possessed. The tight line of his lips was the only hint of his displeasure, and even that I knew was indeed fake. This time he sported an oversized black robe and a white wig that was reminiscent of the 1880’s.
“Ana,” Ephraim expelled slowly, monotone as usual. He sat on the raised desk as he waited to call in the next soul from the room just outside this one. It would be full to the brim with awaiting souls. Ephraim had to have the worst job in all of existence. No wonder he lacked in so many areas. Who actually wanted to determine someone’s fate for the rest of their immortality?
“Ephraim, always good to see you. Keeping yourself busy, I suspect.” I smiled at the little jab, but the lack of response in his expression made my relaxed posture stiffen. It was almost unnerving, as if Ephraim himself had developed into a machine, an extension of Eve herself. I pitied him, but I couldn’t blame his demeanor; the Angel had been isolated since the beginning of time. That would drive anyone to become introverted.
“Always,” was his only response. He didn’t shift from his position but waited. With a flick of his hand, a soul appeared. The man was lanky and thin, and his head shifted from side to side in an attempt to take in the whole view. Sins from all his lives hung on his visibly sagging shoulders as he slumped over from the weight.
“Where am I?” His voice was only a whisper.
“There is no need to be scared. We are trying to help you,” I said. It was a little strange how the humans were so predictable. Each of them had similar reactions to the Hall of Judgment—either scared or angry and nothing in between.
“I-I-I don’t need anyone’s help.” Both of his hands were curled tightly against his stomach. “I wanna go home.”
“And that is where we are trying to help you go.” There was no point in telling the man about Helius or Heaven before the judgement. It would only freak him out, and I didn’t wait all day for one soul. My bed was already calling to me, and I wanted to be anywhere but here.
“You need to trust me.” I tried to give off my most sympathetic smile. “I promise that everything will be over soon, and you can go back to your life.” His immortal life. I didn’t want to make that distinction.
“Okay.” He nodded.
I motioned for the soul to follow. As he took his first step onto the scale, the weight pans jerked back and forth, favoring neither side. But after a moment, the balance tipped in favor of Helius. The man was damned.
“Is that good?” The man looked at Ephraim then back to me. “Did I pass your test? Am I going home?”
I couldn’t lie to him, but I really didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news, even though it was part of my job.
“Well you’ll never be cold.” That was the only good thing that I could think of to say about Helius.
“Wait…what?” Panic rose through his voice.
“The scales have spoken.” Ephraim grabbed the copper gavel from the desk and slammed it down. The deafening noise echoed across the room. “You shall repent for your sins, and, when the punishment is concluded, you will have the chance to ascend.”
A door appeared beside me, only this one red as wine, and a strange warmth radiated as it brushed against the tip of my elbow. The sulfur smell even clung to the worn wood. I always wondered if the redness of the lumber was from the ever-present heat or if Lucifer had an odd sense of humor. No wonder Lucifer was depicted as a red Daemon on Earth; the Angel had a strange obsession with the color.
I was lucky enough to have never met the Angel. The fall from Heaven had changed him, or so I was told. Needless to say, Heaven, or rather Helius, didn’t miss him.
The soul shuffled forward. I called him ‘the soul’ because they had stripped him of his name. All his lives were coming into focus.
I didn’t always agree with the system, but it wasn’t my problem. Eve and Adam made the rules. They gave the facts, and we followed their decisions. Ephraim was just the middleman.
“Are you ready?” I asked him, turning my head to look him over.
Some of the souls cried or begged, but this one looked resigned. His eyes were puffy and droopy. He didn’t turn his head or look at me. The shame and guilt clung to him like an expensive perfume. He knew exactly where he was going and why. I didn’t want to look further into his guilt. Reapers could smell and feel mortals’ emotions, dead and alive—and the ones bound for Helius had a particularly potent sourness, as if all the good in them was replaced by something rancid. The scent of wickedness.
The man didn’t say another word, and I was thankful for that. After centuries of answering the same questions over and over again, I couldn’t handle them anymore. What did it all mean? Is reincarnation real? Will I ever see my family again? Truthfully, I was tired from the job, and I couldn’t wait for my time to ascend.
A dragging sigh escaped my lips as I opened the door and waited for the soul to pass through. Today wasn’t the day for a runner, and I wasn’t in the mood to explain that there was nowhere to hide or go.
But he walked through it, squaring his shoulders, probably reminding himself that it was a temporary thing. There might come a day when he would be free. His face was ashy white and pale as fear still clung to him, which suggested he’d been there before, before it had been Helius, when Lucifer had taken pleasure in the suffering of others, exacting his anger on the souls that they cast him into the depths of Helius for.
Resentment is a powerful tool.
As I followed the soul through the door, the pungent odor of sulfur and mortal farts assaulted my nostrils and curled my tongue. Every part of me hated coming here, and I seemed to be visiting more frequently. The smell loved to linger on my skin for hours after, but I was thankful every day that I had been given a smaller district, something I had worked hard to earn. The Reapers who dealt with larger sectors must’ve been sick of visiting this hell hole. Heat warmed my skin, making the aroma almost burn into my flesh. The paleness of my arm held an odd orange hew from the glow that emitted from the gates of Helius. It was like walking into a furnace, or so I imagined.
I couldn’t remember if Helius had always been this hot or if it was just here, entering the gates, a sort of thing meant to scare souls. A few souls had told me it was different once you entered. Almost like a metropolis. But the Angels told a different story, that Hell was all fire and brimstone like the bible claimed. That the bodies of the dead were scattered, and the souls endured endless torture.
Standing outside the gate, the soul gave one last furtive glance my way before gulping down air he wasn’t even breathing and unhurriedly shuffling his feet forward to enter. He was staying far to the right side of the gate, which was smart, since Lucifer’s favorite hound, Cerberus, sat chained to the other side, huffing bored into his bowl. His many heads slobbered onto its rough hide, so different from the fur of a dog and more like the hide of a rhinoceros. An eternity chained to the gates of Helius… that was a poor existence indeed. I shuddered for the terrifyingly beautiful creature.
Other souls appeared with their Reapers in tow, being herded toward the gate, each following my soul’s path away from the gruesome dog. A part of me wanted to go to Cerberus and give the creature a pet, but I knew the other Reapers would frown upon it.
I watched as the souls disappeared through the flames, and I turned, ready to rush back to a place that smelled less of rotten eggs, where I could scald my skin under the hot spray of a shower for a good hour as I scrubbed the stench away. Only, instead of retreating to my door, I ran smack dab into a solid shape, knocking me to the hard g
round right onto my ass.
“Hey!” I shouted. My body rocked from the impact. Just because I was immortal, didn’t mean I didn’t feel pain, and my ass hurt like the Helius that was at my back. I narrowed my eyes at the offending person. “Watch where you’re going,” I growled.
“My bad,” the man answered unapologetically with a shrug. “Maybe you should do the same.”
“Fucking Helius scum,” I snarled through gritted teeth, staring up into the greenest eyes I’d ever seen.
Chapter Four
Vex
“Such a filthy mouth for someone as holy as yourself. You’d better watch out, or they’ll snip your wings. Or whatever the fuck Reapers have.” I bowed my head. My bet was that this would get the Reaper all riled up after she’d insulted my very existence.
“Get lost.” She sneered.
“I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty. Shall I atone for my sins by bowing down and wiping off the dirt that scuffs your saint-like shoes?”
The woman gave me a harsh scowl with those deep blue eyes. They reminded of the glacial formation I had once seen in a relic book stolen from Earth. Icy cool. Her eyes dodged past me towards the other Angels that seemed to have disappeared from the gate. Both of her shoulders seemed to relax when she realized that no one could witness our interaction.
“Or will you simply go about your day, ignoring us, the simple folk, as you go back to Heaven and jump around on those fluffy clouds with your perfect life? You won’t even think about us when you’re gone.” I scoffed, but this would piss her off. I mean, it would piss anyone off.
This Reaper was not like the others I’d had the pleasure of running into. They wouldn’t have the gall to say anything to me. She was different, harsh, but not in an off-putting manner. Just real. None of this holier-than-thou shit I was used to. Some Reapers acted as if looking too closely at someone from Helius would cause them to fall from grace.
