by Alcy Leyva
Making our way around New Necro was a mixture of a surreal dream and fucked up nightmare. Even though this place looked like my city—right down to its concrete blocks and traffic lights. But then there were the ten-foot spiders, and the rock golems, and the terrible Lobster font—more than once, I felt overwhelmed by it all. I opted to go back into hiding under the hood as I kept my feet moving.
“Where we headed?”
Palls tucked his hands in his coat pocket. “Cain’s apartment. She lives in a walk-up ten blocks from here. Just keep moving.”
More than one demon recognized Palls during our walk. One bird-like creature wearing a yellow turtleneck and flip-flops even walked up to him and began to protest, pointing with its wing for emphasis. It seemed to be shouting for Palls to follow him, but the man waved the bird-thing away. Apparently, the Warden was off the clock.
We only stopped once, and this was because a Screetch had landed nearby and collected a cluster of demons around it. After spotting the mob, we took the long way around, cutting down a side street to a block of small residentials. The sidewalk slabs were uneven. Garbage was strewn about. The streets sported potholes so large, I witnessed a cab fall into one and never come back out.
It made me miss my old neighborhood even more. Being homesick is a weird thing.
The standout, and what I was quickly distracted by, was that one of the buildings was on fire. I’m talking four or five alarms, roaring. All of the windows were open and large flames poured out, lighting up the entire block. Oddly enough, within the crackling flames, I caught a few dashes of playful laughter and screams of unbridled passion.
Palls groaned. “It’s just wisps. One second.” He walked up to the front door and banged on it, shouting, “Warden, here! You want to keep it down before you set the whole damn block on fire?”
The inferno immediately quelled to a low sizzle and I could see inside one of the windows. Beings of pure fire—male, female, and everything in between—strutted around, naked, their muscular frames revealing yellow and red tongues of flame that licked every inch of their fiery flesh. When their bodies collided, a mini-explosion would form and spread around the room, with more and more of its residents groaning in pleasure.
Palls banged just as the flames started getting higher again. “If I have to come back with a fire extinguisher to put your flaming privates out…”
The flames dropped again and stayed that way. Satisfied, Palls and I continued on.
Palls made us stop at the next building over, a six-story brown-bricked monstrosity with huge glowing windows. As he rung the buzzer for 6A, I glanced over at the neighboring building. Five skeletal corpses were strewn about the front steps. I thanked the gods we had found the building we needed.
Plucking the pad from his jacket pocket, Palls gave his writing a once over and squinted up at the window. The panes were closed and all was dark. Muttering under his breath, he looked around.
I stood off to the side to let a couple of crab-like creatures walk by. “Problem, Palls?”
“This address is what’s listed on the registry, but it’s wrong.”
“Registry?”
“The Fallen Star Registry. City makes fallen angels register for working papers, but nine times out of ten, Fallen give fake addresses to stay off the books. Just stay here for a sec.”
Walking over to the next building, Palls stopped among the skeletons.
“How’s everything, gentlemen?”
“All good, Warden,” replied one of the skeletons in a light and airy voice.
“I’m looking for a Fallen Star. Female-looking, blonde. New to the block, probably. Got one of those in this neighborhood?”
The skeletons didn’t respond right away. “We don’t want no trouble,” another replied.
Palls stooped down beside the one that had spoken. “That’s … that’s really good. Funny, I don’t want trouble either. Who says civility doesn’t exist in a city of demons?” Palls faked a smile that was horrible to look at. “I mean, I could have taken your head and punted it down the street when you didn’t answer my question the first time. But I didn’t, right? That was really civil of me.”
The skeleton glanced to his fellows who seemed now to be truly dead.
“Uh,” it chattered, “S-s-she’s on the fourth floor of this building. But she stepped out. I-I-I can buzz you in and you can wait inside.”
Palls stopped smiling and walked away as the skeleton shouted up to an open window on the second floor. A skull popped out and, in a female voice, asked what he wanted.
“O-o-open up for the Warden.”
Palls stared up and the skeleton ducked inside, resulting in the door buzzer going off. Palls held it open with one hand and gestured for me to get in quickly.
Wanting to get off the street, I entered.
The main floor of this building was a long hallway of black and white tiles and a single elevator. Just inside the elevator’s doors stood an elderly demon, holding groceries and pressing the hold button to stay the doors. She wore a knitted sweater and a gray skirt with pantyhose rolled to her ankles. Her purple skin was wrinkled like a worn paper bag and two little horns popped out of the bundle of white hair she had tied into a neat bun.
“Hold that door,” I shouted.
The old demon lady waved for me to hurry. Out of habit, I started jogging to the elevator, but Palls slid in front of me.
“What’s your—”
“The buildings on this block are pretty old. That means they’re all walk-ups.” Palls gestured over to a long winding staircase and then stared at the old demon woman in the elevator. “You really are a steaming pile of garbage, aren’t you?”
I took a step toward him. “Uh, Palls?”
But he shot out his arm for me to keep my distance. “Stay out of this.”
The elderly demon didn’t move or speak. In fact, she didn’t seem to be looking at us at all. Tracking her sightline, she was still staring at the front door behind us, waving softly to no one in particular.
“So, it’s going to be the hard way, eh? All right.” Palls walked in, grabbed the little woman by the neck, and dragged her out into the hallway.
Thinking Palls had finally lost his mind, I jumped on his back. I mean, beating up an old lady—even an old demon lady—was too far outside of my comfort zone to just watch it go down. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do as the large man wore me like a cheap book bag.
Right before my eyes, the little old lady morphed into what looked like a giant gray slug. Covered in thick mucus, it tried to wriggle free, but Palls bound his arms around it and held on. The slimy trail of its body seemed to be rooted into the floor of the elevator.
Suddenly, the sign where the floors were posted on the lift turned inward and two yellow eyeballs sprouted from it. The lights inside the small space flickered off and on, and an awful wail belched out as teeth sprouted from the ceiling and floor.
What I had thought was an elevator was actually the mouth of a waiting demon.
Palls grabbed its slimy tongue with both hands.
“Mimicking without a license?”
“Kwaaaaa- waaaaa-waaaa,” the large demon cried. “Weeeee-kawwww-weeee!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Maybe I should tear this stupid thing out of your mouth and then ask you to speak up. How’s that sound?”
Tears poured out of the dangling eyeballs.
Turning his head slightly, Palls addressed me. “Hey, Grey. While we have this guy here, we should ask for his opinion.” Then, with me still on his back and while wrestling a tongue the size of a king-sized bed, Palls started speaking to it. “You see, Grey and I were having this argument. Well, let’s call it more of a spirited disagreement. She says she doesn’t need my help getting around New Necro. I disagree. I think she’s just asking to get torn open, diced to pie
ces, or eaten. What do you think? You think I’m overreacting?”
The demon elevator looked at me. Its eyeballs were turning red and shaking under the strain. It was trying to say something. Spittle flew from the open mouth by the buckets and splashed out into the hallway.
Palls nodded. “See? I knew I wasn’t in the wrong here.”
Bracing himself, Palls pulled with all his might. I heard the rip of tissue as the demon screamed. At the last moment, the man let go, causing us to both fall on the floor as the tongue snapped back into the demon’s mouth.
The creature tumbled down the shaft and vanished, leaving nothing but a thick trail of saliva and a vacant hole in the ground. I could hear it sobbing as it went. I knew it almost ate me, but it was still a little hard to listen to it cry.
Palls got up and shook the grossness off, then he then picked up his hat and wrung it out. Fixing his black hair, he turned to me and offered me his hand.
After pulling me to my feet, Gaffrey Palls plopped the hat back on his head and then pointed to the staircase, sarcastically adding, “After you.”
CHAPTER 9
“We don’t have a key,” I said, when we found the door to Cain’s apartment locked.
“I got one right here.”
Palls set his shoulder into the side of the apartment door and knocked the whole damn thing off the hinges. After watching him dust off the splinters from his jacket, I stepped over the carnage to survey the room.
The place was an absolute pigsty. Honestly, I thought I was messy—Cain needed a blowtorch, or maybe a couple of wisps to have an orgy in there, to get this place anything close to tidy. There were beer cans everywhere, clothes piled into large mounds, broken furniture... Despite the fact that a single window was sitting wide open, the place still smelled like vinegar soaked foot fungus which may or may not have come from the cluster of what I hoped were empty pickle jars lined along the edges of the walls.
When we turned on the only light, a lamp with a broken neck, four cats glared up from their curled balls. Considering how vain Cain came across as, I would never have believed this was her apartment. There was no sign of a bed, bathroom, or kitchen—no sign that she gave a damn whatsoever. Her apartment reminded me more a city dump than a place of residence.
“Is this really where Cain lives?”
“She lives like a slob. All Fallen do.” Palls lifted up a bag and tossed it aside. “What was your friend’s profession before all of this again?”
“Angel of Death.”
“Makes sense.” Palls tore open a white garbage bag filled with clothes, spilling its contents out onto the floor. “She’s used to collecting things. So much so it’s now a tick. Most Fallen Stars develop coping mechanisms when they’ve been cast out of Paradise. Your friend is a hoarder. Here’s something.”
He tossed me a black shirt and a pair ripped blue jeans.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s so I don’t have to keep hearing your mouth about your dress. You can get dressed back there. I won’t peek.”
I walked behind a large pile of newspapers, paying close attention to where Palls was standing at all times. As if to settle my nerves, the man made his way to the open window and kept talking so the silence didn’t turn awkward. “Hopefully she has a way of getting us to the lower Circles that doesn’t include facing Mason again. The city streets get clear every few hours, so we should move out then.”
The shirt fit okay. I had to roll the sleeves up, but it was comfortable. The jeans had a good feel for them but needed a belt. I found one in a pile and, thankfully, unearthed some black sneakers my size from beneath a stash hidden under a holey blanket. I pulled one of the shoelaces out of a stray pair of shoes and used it to tie up my hair into a messy but perfectly functional ponytail.
“You know, you talk like a cop sometimes.”
Palls chuckled. “That’s because I used to be one.”
I stopped short. “Woah. What? You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not.” Palls bent out to check the street. “Don’t forget we were all human before Hell came into our lives, Grey. Just like you. Your friend Shuu—from Limbo? He ran his own beauty salon before his life got the Shade treatment. The Warden of the Fourth Circle had her own nanny business—in Sweden, I think.”
I didn’t want to tell Palls how much of a shock this was. When you’ve dealt with evil demons and apocalyptic events as much as I have, you forget people had lives behind the chaos—that they had friends and family. Hell, some even had—have—loved ones.
I quickly changed topics. “Do you think we should have come into her apartment like this?”
“Huh?”
“I’m just asking whether Cain would think she was getting robbed or something.”
Palls thought for a minute. “Do you really think—”
He never got to finish that thought as shadow flew through the window, tackling him to the floor. The figure spread its wings and each plume seemed like a collection of razor-sharp daggers. Its face glowed in the darkness; its eyes and mouth burning white-hot embers.
I backed away and tripped on a rusted stack of stolen highway signs, sending the metal slabs clattering to the floor.
The figure turned and, seeing who I was, Cain flipped her hair and winked, causing the fearsome figure to melt away instantly. “Oh hi, Grey!”
“Hey, Cain.” I pointed to the man still pinned beneath her foot. “That’s Palls you got down there.”
Cain looked down and back to me. “So it is.” She looked around the apartment. “So where’s your sis, Grey? Is Petty here?” She seemed excited. Even her wings perked up.
“Uh. A funny thing happened in Limbo, Cain.”
The angel cocked her head to the side. “How funny?”
CHAPTER 10
After listening to what we had to say, Cain immediately told us, “You do know this is the worst freakin’ plan I’ve ever heard in my life, right? And I’m an immortal being so that means a lot coming from me. I was around when God planted the Tree of Knowledge. And all of us were like, ‘Uh. This seems kind of screwed up. You sure you shouldn’t, like, not plant that here?’ And He totally didn’t say anything to us. He just giggled to Himself all tee-hee. Yeah, God giggles. What can I say? It was odd to me, too.”
“She’s still talking,” I whispered to Palls, who wasn’t listening. Still salty about being pinned beneath the former angel’s foot, Palls seemed to have drowned Cain’s rambling out.
As soon as she had heard our plan, Cain proceeded to have a meltdown. I’d only known a few angels, but I realized at that moment most angels must be like this: complainers. Barnem had been the absolute king of bitching. It seemed Cain wasn’t far behind in line for the throne.
Unfortunately, thinking of that asshole brought up a burning question in my mind
“Is Barnem in Hell? Please tell me that scumbag ended up here.”
Cain curled her arm around my neck. “Did he ever, and was he livid about it. First, he ended up in Hotel Gul because, obviously, he was tainted by the Shades. Then he asked to speak to management. Cross had him taken away and he’s probably being tortured as we speak.”
I exhaled. “At least something’s going right.”
“I really want to help, Grey. I really do. But this is a suicide mission. Rumor has it no one has been to see the Dark Lord in ages. He is the Big Boss, Grey—the Ultimate Evil. What’s your plan for getting Petty out of there? You’re going to sass your way out?”
I tapped my chin. “Would that work?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll play it by ear. Look, I don’t have a plan, but maybe that’s for the best.”
Frustrated, Palls butted his way into the conversation. “If you really need to know, it was my idea to get you to go with us.”
Cain rewarded this with a long slow-clap.
“Oh, joy of joys. Thanks, buddy.”
“We’re headed down to the Fourth Circle. All we need is help getting there.” Palls seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “When was the last time you were down there, Cain? Must be hard being the only Fallen Star on the block.”
Whatever this meant—and I had absolutely no idea—provoked the angle like nothing I could have anticipated. Slowly, she stood up and began stretching her neck. Stepping right up to Palls’ face, Cain sneered, licking her lips in a way that sent a shiver down my spine and it wasn’t even me she was talking to.
“You realize I don’t care if you’re a Warden or not. You call me that again and I’ll cut you into tiny pieces.”
Palls managed to look bored by it all.
The entire room was on edge. Even the cats in the apartment were up, tails in the air, hissing.
It was my turn to get in between the two. Clearing my throat, I said, “If we have to go to the Fourth Circle, I could really use your help, Cain.”
Eyes still locked on the man in front of her, Cain replied, “Yeah, well. You’re in luck then, beautiful. Just so happens that I’m due for a visit down there. I don’t mind keeping you company. Just let me change.”
Cain took a step back and took her shirt off, revealing her smooth skin and toned body. The only blemish I saw was a small bandage around her collarbone. Still red and puckering, the wound underneath it looked fresh.
Cain took her time walking topless around the apartment. Palls let us know he’d wait downstairs, though he was clear that his exit was not in a “I’m modest and don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable” kind of way and more like “You’re the least attractive creature on the planet and I’d rather feed my privates to a wood chipper.”
Fishing through a pile of laundry, Cain selected a black crop-top shirt from the pile and slipped it on. Spotting me with my new clothes, she nodded in approval. She popped up a finger and went hunting for something. Then she handed me two brown boots and added, “To go with your jeans. How do they feel?”
