by A. J. Norris
Everything here is a lie.
“Suzie is perfect.” With care, she was laid on the ground, wings spread out beneath her. The ground around her shook and cracked. Black smoke rose through the fissures, carrying with it the same smell as the brown liquid. Rotten potatoes that reeked like a shit filled diaper. The mist meandered over Suzie, eventually entering her nostrils, ears, and slack jawed mouth until none remained on the outside of her body.
The blueness faded and she sat upright, gasping. “Ah, that’s better.” She felt her face, neck, and worked her way to her breasts, hips, thighs. “Oh, so wonderful to be solid again.”
“What did you do with her?” Aba asked. Was Suzie still in there or was her spirit cast out?
“Do you honestly believe you’re in a position to question me?”
“Do I give a shit?”
Suzie’s irises flared bright red and stayed that color. All the animal headed demons’ eyes were the same color. “You asked me earlier if your children spoke of you. The answer’s no.” Aba had a feeling telling her that would piss her off.
His prison tightened more, cutting off the circulation in his legs, further collapsing his lungs. What he wouldn’t give to take a deep breath, or any breath. Wait a minute…he could morph out of his beast form. Closing his eyes, he allowed his muscles to relax. He sagged inside the cast as his body transformed.
“You’re lucky you’re still useful to me.”
The clay crumbled, depositing Aba on the ground in a heap. “Yay, lucky me.” His legs and arms prickled as the blood flow to his nerves returned. Running away right now sounded great, however, getting his body to cooperate was a no-go. He didn’t have full control of his legs. Aba flopped onto his back.
“Bring me one hundred.”
Aba squeezed his eyes shut. “And if I don’t?”
“Fail me and find out!” Her snarl contorted Suzie’s face, changing her from beautiful to ugly in an instant. She crawled over to him and leaned her face over his. He gagged. The stench of her breath burned his nasal passages. A drop of her saliva fell and coated his lower lip. He pressed his lips together, keeping the drool from seeping past them. She grabbed his jaw and pinched his checks until his mouth opened with a gasp. Another drop from her mouth landed on his tongue. Then another. “Bring me one hundred females and don’t stop until you do,” she said.
He had to comply.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
Abaddon
Suzie WTF disappeared and left Aba on the ground, lying in orange dust. WTF was appropriate enough. Suzie had been possessed by some, what-the-fuck. He’d learned what the acronym stood for on the many visits to Earth’s realm and from souls that entered Netherworld. Some still stared at imaginary cell phones in their hands, muttering to themselves while they wandered the intersecting footpaths in the main cavern. The first stop after their wretched lives ended. Many never made it out of the continuous loop around the space. They just kept on shuffling along shouting or muttering, ‘SUP, GERD, and IKR, until they were eventually pushed into a lava pool. Damned souls missed their phones more than their lives it seemed.
Aba knelt. His vertebrae cracked as he stretched his arms over his head. The fire still raged in the cavern. He ran a hand through his hair between his horns, dreading the trek back to his set of chamber rooms. There was no way to avoid the main cavern. Encountering anyone right now wouldn’t be in their best interests. He wished teleporting worked in this realm. After one last look around, he sprinted out of the cavern the same way he’d entered.
The trip down the passageway took less time than he remembered it taking on the way there. The stench coming from the Void alerted Aba to make a left turn. When he reached the main hub, he changed into his beastly form. His wider body left little room for anyone else on the pathways. Most everyone parted or stopped, allowing him ample space to pass them. However, there was always at least one Damned soul that stood in the way. A challenger, or simply a moron?
The imbecile wore a torn sport jacket with a black t-shirt underneath. He looked around, scratching his head with a puzzled expression like he couldn’t believe he’d been taken to Hell. Aba had had about enough of the bullshit for today. The Damned hadn’t noticed the large charcoal skinned monster roughly thirty feet away. He just kept spinning around in disbelief.
Aba scraped the ground with a hoof. He took off toward the newly dead. Anyone in his path leaped back. Aba threw a sideways glance at the other Damned. Not even one warned the man of what was headed in his direction. No one screamed, “Look out!” The soul finally glanced up when Aba growled. His eyes widened then he made a cross sign over his heart. He stepped back awkwardly, clumsily. One more step and he’d pitch himself into one of the molten rock pools along the walkway.
Flat was the word Aba generally used to describe the Damned eyes, however, this soul’s had life left in them. Maybe it was merely the orange glow from the fiery lava glinting off the man’s eyes. He halted abruptly, square to the human. Sport Jacket took another step and tipped off the edge of the path. Aba grabbed the newbie’s throat, saving him. With his clawed hand around the soul’s neck, he put the guy onto his knees and held him down. With Berus gone, he needed someone he could trust; however, he didn’t want to appear weak. He needed someone to punish as an example.
Two more Damned stood close by, gaping. Aba picked the one with the deadest eyes. He reached out and snatched him by the face. The soul whimpered as curved fingernails dug into his cheeks and forehead. “For what reason are you here?” Aba snarled. When Dead-eyes didn’t answer, he body slammed him to the ground by the head.
His skull thudded, cracking at the base. The soul rolled to his side and threw up. Aba breathed deeply. “I’ll ask you again. What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
No humans came to Netherworld for doing the right thing. Clearly the moron was in denial. “Maybe you didn’t understand me. I’ll say it slowly. What. Was. Your. Crime?”
“Oh.” Dead-eyes coughed.
“Yeah. Oh.”
“Killed my neighbor’s cat when I was ten, stole my father’s car at seventeen and drove to—”
Aba stomped his hoof on the ground. “This isn’t a confessional.”
“I murdered four people,” Dead-eyes blurted. “I was shot by—”
“Yeah, yeah, the police.”
“No, my girlfriend’s husband. I didn’t know she was married. Honest. Well…maybe I knew.”
Aba looked at Sport Jacket, whose neck was still in his grasp. He’d been prying at his hand the entire time. “What is your crime for which you are here?”
“Ack…ahem…I, um, drunk driving.”
“Drunk driving what? And?”
“And I don’t know.”
Aba raised his brow. He believed him. “You were killed if you haven’t already figured that one out, and obviously you ended the lives of innocents.”
“Shit. What is this place?”
“Netherworld. What should I do with this piece of shit?” Aba stepped on Dead-eye’s spine as he crawled away, pinning him effortlessly to the sooty ground. He wheezed and coughed some more.
“Nether…what? Is this place Hell?”
Aba looked toward the ceiling and ground his molars. He hated that word. He lifted Sport Jacket by the throat.
“Wait! Throw him in the lava.”
“Good choice.” Aba set him on his feet, leaned down, and tossed the murdering moron into the bright orange abyss. He screamed as the molten rock dragged him under. Aba turned to Sport Jacket. “What do I call you?” he said gruffly.
“Phi-Phillip. It’s Phillip.”
“I have a job for you,” Aba said walking away. “I’ll return.” First, he had to count his females.
***
His females may prove to be the death of him. Abaddon hesitated before he knocked on their door. He’d been so certain there were ninety-nine. Did he want to know how many there were? Definitely not. Except
he had no choice. Suzie WTF compelled him. The pursuit wouldn’t end until he had collected one hundred. What would be their fate after this accomplishment? His intuition told him nothing good.
He cranked the knob and swung the door wide. The sea of women lounged among the velvet pillows. Most of their faces brightened and looked toward him. A few were occupied in pleasuring others. He closed his eyes for a moment. Abaddon’s old forgotten protective instinct flared. His heart palpitated and his stomach hit the floor.
Quit that!
It didn’t matter his feelings on the task, he had no choice but to finish it.
Abaddon visually counted his females. For the first in a long time, he realized he remembered each of their names and thought of them as his and no one else’s. He rubbed the back of his neck. The number of names overwhelmed him after twenty or thirty.
“We’re going to play a little game,” he said.
“Ooh, what kind of game?” Cheri asked. His mouth dropped open and he patted his forehead with his palm. Her lack of smarts astounded him. He’d chosen Amalya and Julia as potential harem members because their stories were much more interesting and they were more intelligent than the others. He put into play ways for them to possess an amulet, orchestrated scenarios for achieving his goals. In the end, his boredom would lead to his destruction.
“I want every one of you beauties to come to me.” They rushed him. “Wait!” He held up his hand. “One at a time.”
“What do you want us to do?” Harmony asked, doe-eyed.
“Come,” he waved her forward. Her hips swayed. And oh, she was lover-ly, yet he kept his libido in check. His head was far too messed up for receiving pleasure right now. “Kneel and take my hand.”
Harmony’s full breasts jiggled as she sank to her knees, gazing at his face.
“Kiss my knuckles.”
She obeyed without pause. How could he let anything bad happen to this woman? Sure, she was a moron and had committed a crime of passion, but Harmony wouldn’t have without the amulet’s poisonous influence.
My poisonous venom.
“One,” he whispered. “You may go. Next.”
Cheri came to him and knelt, her eyes rimmed with tears. Asking one of the goat-legged demons to ash him would be so much easier than dealing with this. This way of counting wasn’t working for him either, yet he continued.
“Two,” he muttered under his breath. “Next.”
One by one they knelt, kissed his hand, and he counted off. When he reached ninety-seven, a panic attack settled in his chest. Every nerve ending vibrated. Tiffany walked from the back of the room.
Ninety-eight.
He smiled at her, grateful she existed. Terrified she was the last one present. He needed two more. Gah, how had this happened? He couldn’t breathe and the cavern blurred around him. His whole body locked up.
Get it together!
He composed himself and found Tiffany looking at the floor with a frown on her face. “What is it?” he asked then immediately regretted it.
“Did Suzie come back with you?”
“No, my dear, she did not.”
Murmurs and crying exploded, startling Aba. There was only one explanation for their reaction. Somehow they knew Suzie was gone and he was not to blame. He fell to his knees and they gathered around him. They took him all the way to the floor and he hoped they could all find comfort in each other. Laughter trickled out of his mouth while they showed affection and gave attention to his body. And he let them. After all, the females were still his.
For now.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-THREE
Virgil
Virgil laid on the men’s bathroom floor at Eternity for Deus only knew how long. The first of the club’s cleaning crew found him. Many of the workers understood the place had secrets and therefore didn’t ask a lot of questions.
Derrick stuck his head into the stall. “Whoa. What happened to you?”
Virgil groaned what he thought sounded like ‘elevator’. With a broken jaw, he wasn’t capable of much else in the way of communication.
“Do you understand what he said, Bobby?”
“Pfft. Nope. Let’s just shove him on the elevator. That always seems to get rid of ‘em.”
Virgil grunted while the men pulled him to his feet.
“Here you go, buddy,” Derrick said when they reached the elevator. He stabbed the ‘down’ button. The doors slid open and they half-walked, half-dragged Virgil inside. They deposited him on the floor near the buttons and left.
Virgil reached up and pressed the button the humans saw as only an emergency stop. He slumped back to the floor. His face was numb and swollen. He spat dried blood from his mouth.
The ride took forever and eventually the car stopped abruptly at the basement floor of Eternity. Virgil inched along on his stomach across the lobby. Someone spotted him when he reached the bamboo poles sticking out the built-in planters near the entrance to the great hall.
“Max!” the angel shouted.
Virgil couldn’t tell who the male was that spoke. His swollen eyes and excruciating pain limited his awareness. He collapsed where the high-polished bricks began.
Max whistled. “Oh, man, what happened to you? Let’s get you fixed.” He sucked in a breath when Virgil groaned. “I’ll do what I can, but you’ll wanna go to Arcadia to rest.”
“Eve…” Virgil moaned.
“She’s strong. You’re the one I’m worried about.”
Max was correct. His love could handle herself, even if he didn’t want to admit it. However, when was the last real fight she’d been in? And Dahlia wanted her stricken from the Earth. Or worse, she wanted to turn her over to Abaddon.
“Evie…” he growled with conviction.
“She’s fine.”
Virgil searched Max’s emotions which led to his recent memories. Max was lying. He didn’t know if what he said was true.
“You don’t know that.” Speaking brought tears to Virgil’s eyes. He nearly blacked out, yet he pushed his torso off the floor.
“Stop trying to talk, I can’t understand you. Relax or I’ll put you out. Your jaw and wings are broken, and your face looks like you were hit by a bus and smashed through the windshield.
“Oh, screw it, I’m taking you home.” Max picked him up and carried him to the double doors.
Virgil must have passed out because he awoke inside his living quarters in Arcadia.
“Evie?” he called.
“Stay still,” Raz told him, placing a hand on Virgil’s chest. Where had he come from?
“Max?” Virgil attempted unsuccessfully to get off the bed.
“He left after he healed your jaw and wings,” Julia said from somewhere on his right. “I think you should get in the healing pool with him, like Max said,” she told Raz.
“No.” Virgil shook his head.
“What do you mean ‘no’? You’re weak as shit.” Raz stood and shucked his shirt.
“I’m fin—dammit.”
The male whisked him off the bed and waded into the pool from the shallow end. Raz held him flush to his front. At least he kept his pants on. Virgil, however, was naked. The water glowed.
“I told you I was fine.”
“He’s not listening to you, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I want to know where Evie is. I don’t care about me.”
“She’s fine,” Julia said.
“Will everyone stop saying that. Where is she?” Virgil thrashed about. He had little control over his limbs.
Raz held steady until Virgil’s knee connected with his balls. “Oh—that’s it. I’ve had it.” The Guardian went to the pool’s edge and pulled himself out.
Why wouldn’t Virgil’s body cooperate? He needed to find Evie. Now. His legs couldn’t keep him upright. He desperately tried keeping his head above the surface, but swallowed gulps of water as he slipped underneath. An arm reached down and grabbed one of his hands. He was yanked from the pool so quickly a
few gallons of water came with him. Virgil fell to the sandstone in a heap. After he coughed out another gallon, he glanced at his savior, Julia. Raz handed him a towel. Hopefully Raz would take pity on him and not give him another beating.
“Sorry, my brethren, allow me to present myself for—”
“No one’s going to beat your ass,” Julia said. “Right, Raz?”
Raz rubbed the back of his neck and squeezed his eyes closed. “Nope.”
Virgil rested for a minute. He was more exhausted than before. “Why won’t you tell me where Evie is? What are you hiding from me?”
“They’re not hiding anything.” Jeremiah soared into the living quarters with Evie in his arms. Her face was bloodied and her wing was crooked. Elliott’s oldest son laid her next to Virgil. She reached out and caressed his cheek.
“Please don’t beat him for touching me.” A single tear rolled down the side of her face.
He smiled “Never. I am grateful to Jeremiah. He brought you home. What happ—”
“Are you mad at me?”
“For what?”
“Gregor—”
“Just tell me one thing. Did you win?”
“She won’t be bothering us anymore.”
Virgil chuckled, and Evie giggled along with him. It wasn’t that they found humor in the Warrior’s demise, only joy in their reunion.
***
Evita
Evita slipped into the pool behind Virgil for the second time in two hours. Julia and Raz had left after Evita vowed to teach her how to fly. Fear prevented Julia from achieving what angels did naturally.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Your face looks much better.”
“Feels it.”
“How bad a butt whipping did Berus give you?”
“Bad. But in my defense, he blindsided me.”
“That’s what they all say.” Evita leaned her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. His hands smoothed up her belly and cupped her breasts.
