Dearly Departed

by Katie May

  “Preston, this is Aggie, my roommate, and Layla, another Dearly Departed.”

  Aggie gives Preston a suggestive once-over, her tongue snaking out to lick her lip, while Layla wiggles her fingers in greeting. She casts me a very pointed look which I very studiously ignore.

  “You just have all the yummy guys,” Aggie purrs. “If I was fifty years younger, I would show them how to ride my cherry stick.”

  And…

  I don’t want to know.

  “You already met your other mentors?” Preston asks, drawing my attention back to him. His lips are curved downwards. “And they’re...attractive?” That frown of his grows deeper.

  “Gorgeous,” Aggie says, fanning herself. “My lady heat quivers.”

  “I just met one,” I cut in, purposely turning my back on the older woman. “My Angel mentor. Auston...something. I didn’t catch his last name.”

  This time, his frown contorts into a scowl.

  “Auston Turner,” he supplies bitingly.

  “You know him?”

  “You could say that.”

  “You know, it’s not nice to talk about people without them present. A lesser Angel might smite you dead,” a familiar voice says from behind me. Auston appears a moment later, his white hair placed into a disheveled man bun on top of his head and those glorious wings of his on display.

  “Auston.” Preston’s voice is pure venom.

  Auston barely spares Preston a glance, turning his full attention to me. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his gaze. Layla, behind me, clears her throat uncomfortably, but even she, in all her sexy glory, is not enough to deter his piercing eyes from me.

  “Where were you this morning?” he questions.

  “Huh?”

  Brainwaves officially dead. Yup. Dead.

  He smirks as if he knows full well what his presence does to me.

  “Flying lessons. Every morning.” He punctuates his statement by fluttering his wings.

  “Hi. Um. I’m still here.” Preston quite literally shimmies himself between our two bodies, the movement forcing Auston back a step. “Reaper Extraordinaire, at your service.”

  The large, imposing Angel scowls at him.

  “Fuck off, Preston.”

  “I was actually thinking,” Preston continues, “that it would be a good idea to train Hadley every morning on Reaper duties. Like...walking in a straight line and all that fun stuff. More important than flying. I mean, you can’t fly if you fall off a cliff and die.” He taps the side of his head. “Logic.”

  “Sorry. Hadley’s mornings are taken,” Auston retorts scathingly. His large muscles bulge as he folds his arms over his barrel chest.

  “With walking classes, you’re right. You can join in if you want.”

  Auston takes a menacing step forward, danger exuding from every pore of his body, and Preston staggers, gripping my shoulder to right himself.

  “Hadley can speak for herself,” I interrupt, their behavior reminding me of adolescent boys fighting over a toy.

  And I’ll be damned if I’m that fucking toy.

  Both men turn towards me, matching expressions of guilt etched across their faces. It’s only then that I note the similarities between the two.

  Sure, Auston has white hair and is larger, but both men have strong jawlines, high cheekbones, and similar coloring.

  “Holy shit!” I gasp. “Are you two brothers?”

  “And the plot thickens,” I hear Aggie comment to Layla behind me.

  Preston and Auston both scowl, mirror images of each other.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Auston replies stiffly. “He’s a Reaper, and I’m an Angel.”

  “Don’t give me that racist bullshit,” I snap, though I’m not sure if I’m using “racist” correctly. “You’re brothers, but you’re acting like enemies.”

  Therapist Hadley puts on her spectacles and reclines in a leather chair, pencil poised over a notepad as she waits for her clients to divulge their life stories.

  Reality Hadley receives matching blank stares.

  It’s Auston who looks away first, glaring at Preston as if he wishes to penetrate the Reaper’s skin and tear out his organs through his stare alone. Auston reluctantly turns back towards me.

  “Tomorrow. Eight AM. Large field behind your dorm,” Auston orders briskly, and I reel at being bossed around. Before I can protest, he pulls his wings into his body and storms down the hall, not bothering to spare a glance at Layla and Aggie.

  Preston stares at his brother’s retreating form before cupping his mouth and screaming, “My dramatic exit is cooler than yours.” Turning towards me, he adds, “You’ll back me up on that, right?”

  “You’re both children,” I deadpan, spinning away from him. There is only so much toxic masculinity I can take in one day.

  Layla is covering her mouth with her arm to conceal her rather obvious laughter, and Aggie is staring off after Auston...well, after his ass. Real classy.

  “I’ll be there tomorrow too!” Preston calls to my back. “For walking training. It’s important!”

  “I’m not a toy you can fight over,” I reply, strolling down the hall. Layla moves to stand on one side of me while Aggie takes the other. There is a shuffle of footsteps as Preston hurries to keep pace with us.

  “I know you’re not a toy,” he says to my back. “And I don’t want you to think this is a damn custody agreement or some shit like that. But damn, why does Auston always have to ruin everything?”

  Finally, I spin around to face him. His eyes are downcast, the skin between his brows creased. When he notices I’ve stopped, the contemplative expression diminishes to be replaced by his customary smile.

  This time, I can see the tightening of his eyes. Auston’s presence really shook him up.

  “Look,” I begin, keeping my voice gentle. “You obviously have some issues with your brother. I don’t know you, and I don’t know him, and I’m not even going to pretend I understand what’s going on. But don’t drag me into this. I’m here to learn, and if your rivalry gets in the way of that, I’ll ask Administer for a new mentor. You understand? I’m not some toy you can pull back and forth until it breaks. Don’t treat me like that. At all.”

  A multitude of emotions flickers across his face.

  “You’re right. We shouldn’t drag you into our...feud. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thank you.”

  Preston stares at me for a moment longer, opening his mouth as if he wishes to add something, but after a moment, he shuts it with a snap, nods his head, and hurries down the hall.

  Layla calls, “Watch out for the—”

  Just before he runs into an open door. All three of us wince.

  “I’m okay!” he calls from his sprawled position on the ground.

  “Klutz,” I whisper, surprised by the affection in my voice for the strange Reaper.

  Only when Preston gets back up and disappears around the bend in the hall does Layla lean towards me.

  “Girl, you’ve been holding out on me. Two guys in one day? Damn.”

  Damn is right. I’m not sure I’m going to survive the undivided attention of two sexy as sin males. Hopefully, my other two mentors are ugly hags.

  One can hope, right?

  Chapter 8

  BRAXTON

  Sweat pours down my face as the iron gates begin to creak, bending under the assault of the monsters behind it. The cavern leading up to the gates is small, maybe fifty feet wide and twenty feet high. Beyond the creatures, the blaze of a roaring fire causes shadows to dance along the cavern’s rocky walls.

  With a groan, the gates break, releasing the monsters that were pacing behind it. Hellhounds—feral assholes—are menacing and terrifying even on their best days. With their large, snarling, snapping jaws and flaming feet pounding the ground, they charge at us.

  We brace ourselves for impact, legs spread, knees bent in a fighting stance. Extending my arm, I summon my sword and take my first swipe at th
e nearest growling face. My blade connects, slicing its head right off its body. The torso goes sailing behind me. Demon strength? It comes in handy sometimes. A snarl sounds on my right. I swirl quickly with my blade held above my head and attack the next hound.

  He flattens his body, and my sword goes sailing over him.

  Fuck.

  Quick, ugly bastard.

  Aiming at his chest, I reel my sword back to stab. The blade makes a wet noise as it penetrates the hound’s thick skin. He howls in pain as I twist the blade, then collapses into a heap on the floor.

  I shake my dark hair from my eyes and find another Demon fighting a losing battle against a two-headed hound. Using my newest kill as a stepping stone, I push off his carcass and sail through the air. It’s a shame the ceilings are so low, making our leathery wings useless.

  Like a javelin, I launch my sword at the beast. It sails through the steamy air and connects with a sickening thud, embedding itself between the hound’s ribs. It screeches and flails around, one of its massive heads turning to snap at the item piercing its body. Darren takes this opportunity to flip in the air and land on the beast's back.

  With a roar, he sinks his blade into the back of one of its heads. That head goes limp, but the other becomes feral. Foam leaks from its mouth, its lips pulled back revealing rows of sharp fangs. The Hellhound’s dark eyes glow a fiery red as it rears on his hind legs and bats its front paws.

  I run up to the beast and drop to my knees, ripping out my blade before rolling underneath it to slice at its belly. I slide out and pause in a crouch on the floor, bracing myself for its attack. As the beast comes down on its front paws, I jerk my sword upright and sink my weapon into its chest. The fire leaves its eyes as it falls on its side.

  Dead. Just how I like them.

  The noise around me dies down as my team of Demons eliminates the rest of the hounds. Taking a quick head count, I’m relieved to find none of my fighters have perished in battle.

  “What now, Brax?” Darren asks, walking beside me.

  I sweep the back of my hand across my forehead, pulling wet strands of hair from my eyes.

  “Isn’t it obvious? We enter through the gates.”

  Darren flips his sword around in a display of skill, then gestures towards the dilapidated gates.

  “After you.” His tone is both reverent and belligerent—a combination only Darren has been able to perfect.

  “Let’s go,” I command the others. Like a well-oiled machine, they file in behind me. I keep my blade at the ready as we exit the cavern into the fiery space beyond. Flames lick up the walls, and the heat quickly makes my skin slick with perspiration, but I don’t mind. As a Demon, I crave the heat.

  Gripping the hilt of my sword tightly, I narrow my eyes and try to see what’s beyond the wall of fire. The monster we seek would be guarded by more than just Hellhounds. There are far worse creatures beyond the gates of Hell.

  A great chasm greets us as we inch forward, molten lava flowing down in its gulch. A death trap for any who might fall. Luckily for us, we are bestowed with the gift of flight. Stretching my black wings out to my sides, I launch myself into the air and fly over the lava pit, landing softly on the other side.

  Soft thuds land beside me as my team descends. Once everyone is across, we continue on. Through the flames, a new cavern opens up, this one much larger than the last. A series of dark tunnels dot the rock wall ahead of us like a honeycomb. We stalk over to them, trying to use our other senses to figure out which way to go.

  I still find it hard to believe that as a third year, this is what we have to do. Entering the gates of Hell feels like it should be something set aside for graduates or those with more experience than us. The one time I had brought it up to Administer, he had merely stared down his nose at me and told me to “mind my own business.” Yup. Good communicator, that one.

  Darren flies up to a tunnel near the ceiling and peers inside. I jump up with a boost from my wings to a tunnel in the middle.

  I close my eyes and open my senses. Steady plunks of dripping water reach my ears and a fresh, crisp smell reaches my nose. Definitely not what we're looking for. The soul condemned here wouldn’t ooze anything calming or fresh. I descend down to the floor and pick a tunnel at the far end.

  Crouching down, I step inside and take a whiff. Garbage. Like rotten eggs and meat left out in the sun for too long. Gagging from the potent scent, I place my hand on the wall to steady myself. I jump back when the rock beneath my hand begins to slither.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper incredulously, before blowing into my hand to call on a ball of fire. With it burning brightly in my palm, I raise my arm and toss the flame down the tunnel. My heart pounds erratically, and a surge of adrenaline skates down my spine when the entire tunnel begins to wiggle and hiss.

  “Any luck, guys?” I shout, backing out of the snake pit. Not that we actually know what it is we’re looking for. Professor Malcom simply took us to an old well in the cemetery and told us to jump in and search for an unimaginable monster of legend. He wouldn’t tell us its name, only saying that this monster takes the essence of souls, the ones accepted into the Afterworld Academy, and turns them into nightmares.

  And I know nightmares.

  I’m a fucking Demon.

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sorry, Braxton.”

  I thread my fingers through my hair then pace in front of the tunnels. And that’s when I hear the screaming.

  “You guys hear that?” I say, before launching myself into the air. The screams sound like they are surrounding me in a harrowing symphony of horror. Shrieks, howls, and cries bounce off the walls, sending chills through me in spite of the suffocating heat.

  “Brax, look out!” Merik shouts, as a monster crawls out of the topmost tunnel and jumps down between us all. I’ve never seen anything so grotesque in my entire life… or death. Eight, spider-like, hairy legs descend from a fat body. As it skitters around the ground, its central body expands and grows, revealing a head that looks to be inside out and a pair of tattered wings.

  It shrieks, forcing me to cover my ears. The noise is so piercing, I can feel blood leaking onto my hands. A thud sounds behind me, and I turn as another crawls out, just as large and just as nasty as its brother. At least fifteen feet long and ten feet high, these creatures are terrifying. The newest one lashes its front leg out at me, and it’s not until it cuts through the flesh on my thigh that I realize their feet end in claw-like projections. A searing pain burns through my leg as my blood runs down my leg and onto the ground.

  Another screech has me looking up to see more inverted heads peeking through the tunnel, their muscles and bones on the outsides of their skulls and long, dripping fangs exposed.

  “Retreat!” I shout. “Everyone, get the fuck out of here. Now!”

  I swipe at the closest one with my sword, but with those ten-foot long legs, I can’t even get close.

  My team stretches their wings and takes flight, Darren and I the last to launch. Just as we lift from the ground, he shrieks beside me.

  “No!” I scream in horror, as one of the creatures takes Darren’s leg halfway down its throat.

  Fuck this. No monster is going to eat my fucking friend. I twirl my blade and then launch it at the monster. When it sinks into its eyes, it screeches, green ooze squirting from the wound. The creature drops Darren, and I summon my weapon back into the tattoo on my arm as I pick up my friend.

  It’s like fucking slow motion when I jump into the air, and the monsters below raise up on their back legs, swiping at us with their front claws. I’m able to lift my legs up just enough for them to miss us and flap my wings harder than I ever have in my entire time in the Afterlife.

  We surge across the lava chasm and collapse on the other side. The creatures continue to shriek, causing a seemingly endless flow of sticky blood to cascade down my neck and splatter onto the ground. I can see them through the fires, pacing, waiting, b
ut not following. Seems they can’t cross the lava gorge.

  There’s something to be said for small victories.

  I sigh in relief but don’t want to linger too long. We’ve been made very much aware of the other horrors that reside down here. Plus, Darren’s leg needs to be seen in the medical wing.

  “Merik, help me with Darren.” I wince when I try to stand on my own mauled leg. The boy in my arm is barely moving, barely breathing, and panic erupts in my veins. He pales, and his eyes begin to flutter.

  “Get him out of here!”

  “Right away,” Merik responds, taking Darren into his arms.

  Merik takes off towards the exit on foot, and I stumble behind him. The rest of my team is already out of the cavern containing the Hellhound bodies.

  I never thought the Academy would be like this. That I’d be fighting for my undead life on top of all the other schooling. It’s a contrast to my initial expectation when I first heard the word “Academy” in Administer’s office. My days are a never ending battle, a fight for my life. Between fighting Demons in Hell, stalking a certain human on Earth, and my own constant onslaught of injuries, I can never have a moment of peace. Plus, I still haven't been advised as to who my DD will be. Another damn thing I have to deal with. Another damn thing I don’t have the fucking time to handle.

  I push all those thoughts down and struggle up the portal at the bottom of the well, one of many spread around the Academy’s grounds. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life and death, it’s to take every day as it comes.

  One battle at a time.

  Chapter 9

  Hadley

  I never thought I’d have to pick out an outfit for flying and...errr...walking training.

  Scouring the closet, I grab a pair of black yoga pants streaked with pink and a matching pink sports bra.

  “How’s this?” I ask, turning towards Layla who’s perched on my bed. Aggie is still fast asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily. If it wasn’t for that, I might’ve thought she was dead. Again. The woman is deathly still.