Hell on Earth 1 - Hell's Belles

by Jackie Kessler

  "Bitches," she hissed at me.

  "That's bitchin'," I corrected with a wink.

  The Gateskeeper bellowed, "Next!"

  Once we passed through the entrance, the stink of brimstone got kicked up from cloying to overpowering. My lover stumbled to the ash-covered ground, dry heaving as if he could save his soul by puking up his guts.

  I gathered him up by the scruff of his neck and pitched him forward. He landed roughly on his stomach, grunting from the impact. He lifted his head and let out a piercing scream. Before him, the Lake of Fire seethed. Burning liquid splashed over the lip and slid down the slope lazily, leaving channels in its wake. Strands of molten lava, cooling quickly once freed of the

  Lake's surface, formed glassy filaments that drifted upward along with the smoke. I watched a strand of dark glass as it floated past my face, dancing on the updraft. With a derisive snort, I batted it away, and it shattered from the impact. It had been nothing more than trapped heat, rage turned brittle. I had no patience for such delicacy.

  The man stared at the boiling pool as if hypnotized by the swirls of orange-red. Then, near his face, the Lake's surface erupted into a cone of vibrant blue flame. My lover whimpered and scuttled backward like a crab, his belly sliding over the pitted ground. He bumped up against my hooves. Trembling, he clutched onto my legs, grasping my pelt for support, possibly even for comfort. The thick hair that covered my body from my pelvis down to my ankles served as protection against even the angriest fires of Hell, so the human's fingers didn't even make a dent as they pulled at me.

  Still, I was flattered that he turned to me. Yeah, I was a creature of Lust. Even so, I liked to have my ego stoked as much as the demons of Pride. I patted the man's head, as if he were a favorite dog. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you to your Case Worker."

  He looked up at me, over my furry groin and flat stomach, over the swells of my breasts all the way up to my face. I didn't look remotely human in my natural form—more like a satyr, minus the goat tail and horns, with a cherry-red hide and green cat's eyes—but he must have seen something caring in my gaze, because he reached up to me, supplicating.

  "Please help me," he whispered.

  Demons have hearts, but we don't have feelings in the way that mortals do. That being said, thousands of years of being a temptress had given me an understanding of the human psyche. And while I appreciated absolute fear like any other being of the Pit, I also sympathized with the people new to our plane. Everything they had ever known, gone in a flash of death. And now, on the precipice of judgment, they realized they had a soul… and that they had sacrificed it for temporary gain.

  So I squatted onto my haunches and cupped his face in my hands. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not an angel. I don't help humans. But I'll hold your hand while we wait for your Case Worker to see you."

  He looked absurdly grateful, and color slowly bloomed in his form until once again, he was covered in black and red. He didn't thank me, but he squeezed my hand tightly and offered me a smile that slipped into a grimace.

  I flashed him my fangs as I pulled him to his feet. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go."

  Because I was a Seducer, I had to steer my catch to the portion of Hell reserved for mortals damned by their lusts, the Heartlands. Whether my lover would be judged as Lustful remained to be seen.

  I could only hope. We had a quota, after all.

  We walked slowly, following the Lake of Fire as we made a circuit around the western edge of Hell, passing the area of Sloth. My lover, perhaps dazed by his own upcoming sentencing, hardly seemed to notice the agonized wails of the damned in their snake pits, desperately attempting to climb over the writhing serpents to reach the top and escape their fate. Give us a few hundred years, and we'll scare the laziness right out of you.

  Continuing south, we crossed over into the land of Pride. Sure, we could have used a more direct route to get to the southern central area designated as the Heartlands. But mortals got to see only parts of the Third Sphere, the level used for penance and other forms of punishment. That meant no passage through the Second Sphere, Pandemonium: home to demonfolk and other Fallen creatures. The First Sphere, Abaddon, served as the Unholy Court; only the great Kings of Hell gathered there.

  Forget the humans, the last place a regular demon wanted to be was in Court, surrounded by the rulers of Hell. Gah. I got goosebumps just imagining it. I'd sooner suck face with an angel than willingly visit the First Sphere.

  As we walked through the Pridelands, something snapped my lover out of his trance, and he flinched when he saw various instruments of torture in full swing. (In the case of the pendulum, literally.) Demons capered and exchanged gallows-humor jokes as they worked various machines, like the wheel, the rack, and the iron maiden. Trapped within such devices, once-arrogant humans screeched their throats raw as their blood seeped from numerous wounds and their bones cracked.

  Just another day in the Pit. I pushed my paramour forward. "Almost there, sweetie."

  Blanching to a sickly gray, he nodded.

  The stench of searing flesh announced our arrival in the Heartlands. Nailed to wooden stakes, humans writhed as they burned. Covered in the kisses of fire, their bodies licked by flames, the damned that had allowed their passions to rule them while alive suffered the affections of the Inferno.

  By my side, the man made a sound that caught in his throat.

  "Chin up, sweetie," I said. "This is just where your judgment takes place. You may not be assigned here."

  "Oh, good," he said faintly.

  One of the demons attending a bonfire noticed us. He stood up, stretched out his back, and picked his way around the various burning humans. Flicking soot from the red armor that marked him as a Case Worker, he nodded to me. "Jezebel. It's been a human's age. How're tricks?"

  "Heya, Zepar. You know—same old, same old."

  Zepar smiled tightly, then turned his full attention onto my lover. Stroking his chin, Zepar said, "Clearly, he's more of a coveter than a berserker. And unfortunately, the lust is secondary to the greed."

  "I was afraid of that," I said. "The Cauldron?"

  He nodded. "Indeed. Oh well. Better luck next time, eh?" Running a thick finger over my paramour's forehead, he etched the symbol of Covet just over the man's eyes. To his credit, my lover barely winced.

  As Zepar handed me a body receipt for my catch, I asked, "We make our quota this quarter?"

  Zepar turned, already working his way back to a raging conflagration that engulfed at least twenty humans. "Barely. I'm telling you, things that used to guarantee a hot seat now hardly can be called sins."

  "I blame television."

  "No doubt," he muttered, shaking his head.

  "Come on, sweetie," I said to the man. "I'll take you as far as the boundary for Covet."

  "So I'm not going to burn?" he asked, the relief obvious in his voice.

  "Nope." He was going to boil in oil. But I'd let him learn that on his own.

  As I materialized in front of Meg, I stepped backward, shielding my eyes. This was one of those times her power shone through—most Underworld entities radiated slight power when manipulating forms out of the ether, but Meg, like her sister Furies, were part of the fabric of the universe. Her power was enough to make the brightest of stars go diving for sunglasses.

  "Tone it down, girl!" I yelped.

  "Sorry. Okay, you can look now."

  I glanced around, seeing that we were just outside of Pandemonium near the Heartlands. Around me, I sensed that my demonic brethren were making themselves scarce. At times, Meg's automatic fear factor had its advantages; it almost guaranteed a private conversation. Blinking, I saw she was still doing the Ancient Greece thing. "Listening to the Muse today?"

  "At least I remembered to get dressed. Come on," she said, pulling my arm. "We have to get to the First Sphere."

  "What?" I yanked my arm away. "You're insane. No way am I going up there."

  Meg rolled her eyes. "Would I tell you to go t
o Abaddon if there wasn't a good reason for it?" Leaning in close, she whispered, "I heard Rosier going at it with Naberius. You know how they get, trying to one-up each other. Well, Rosey said that He's going to make an Announcement!"

  I swallowed. Rosier was one of the Principals of Lust, second only to King Asmodai and Queen Lillith. Rosey had nearly as much pride in him as one of the Arrogant, not that anyone would ever suggest that to him; saying that the Proud and the Seducers hated one another was like saying snow was cold. Rosey and Naberius had a rivalry going on more than fifteen hundred years. Neither he nor Berry were stupid, so they boasted only about things that were completely true. So for Rosey to make a claim about Him to Berry meant that it was legit.

  King Lucifer was going to make an Announcement. And that meant…

  My hand flew to my mouth. "That means all the hordes of Hell will be there!"

  "Smart girl." Meg grabbed my hand. "Come on. If we hurry, we'll get there before the Call of Gathering."

  Chapter 8

  The First Sphere

  Pulling me along, Meg flew us over the Second Sphere. Beneath us, thousands of demons and other creatures of the Pit meandered about, scuttling into or out of the enormous mountain complex that served as Pandemonium. Housing more than seven million nefarious entities, the black crag towered over the Third Sphere, which sprawled around the mountain's edge. If the Third Sphere was the periphery of Hell, the Second was its base—and the First Sphere was its peak. High above us, rocks and dead trees gave way to the polished stones of Abaddon. I swallowed as we approached the summit of Hell. "You're sure about this?"

  Meg looked over her shoulder to grin at me. "Positive. You afraid?"

  "Bless me, yes. You?"

  "Anxious, I guess. But if there's going to be an Announcement, I want a good spot."

  "If? What do you mean, if? I thought you said it was definite!"

  She chuckled but said nothing, leaving me to stew in my fear of rubbing elbows with our unholy leaders.

  Meg circled the pinnacle, giving me the unprecedented opportunity to look at the palace. Abaddon gleamed, its walls of black onyx and fire opals winking. Reflections of the Lake of Fire danced upon its surface, washing the entire castle in flames. The Ten Great Rules gleamed on the walls. Rule No. 1 blazed in an angry red: All Creatures in Their Place.

  No shit, Sherlock. That's why I'd never ventured into the dread castle. Everything had its place, and every creature had its station. I was a succubus, and a relatively minor one at that; I didn't dally with the elite or, Pit swallow me, the Kings. Sure, I would (and do) happily screw the pants off of mortal rulers. But the infernal ones? No way. Not on your soul.

  Yet there I was, about to descend into the courtyard of Abaddon. Bless me, I must have fucked myself stupid.

  Past the outer wall, the great courtyard sprawled, its black stones dull and unassuming. Around it, an inner wall provided three levels of seating boxes, with each section separated by stone columns. From what I'd heard, the upper box seats were reserved for the Principals, leaving the lower rows for the various Dukes, Marquises, and Barons. The wide expanse of the courtyard would be standing room only for the rest of the denizens of Hell. Beyond the inner wall, the palace itself loomed, a dark construction of unspoken menace and captured terror.

  Well, I had to admit, the architecture was fucking amazing.

  It looked like Meg's information had been correct. Already, creatures appeared in the courtyard—a few Nightmares here, smatterings of ghosts there. A number of demons loitered near the outer wall, as if too nervous to step within the confines of the First Sphere before the actual Call went out.

  Meg, being a Fury, had no such reservations. She landed right at the center of the courtyard, directly in front of a granite platform.

  I hissed, "What the fuck are you doing?" I tried to pull away and dash off to the periphery like the others of my brethren, but Meg had an iron grip on my forearm. "We can't be here before at least some of the Barons arrive!"

  Meg grinned at me. "So worried about poor form, Jezzie?"

  "More worried about keeping my flesh attached to my body. Come on, Meg—some of the elite have really, really bad dispositions." The last time I crossed one of the titled demons had resulted in me bathing in the Lake of Fire for a month. I'd rather be sequestered in a nunnery for the next century than suffer through perpetual burning for any length of time.

  "I'd expect nothing less," Meg said. "They do have a certain reputation to maintain. But really, Jez—do you think any of the elite would approach you while I'm by your side?" She arched her eyebrow, and flecks of power sparkled in her blue eyes.

  Gnawing my lip, I conceded that I was safe for the moment. I'd become close with Meg way before she'd revealed her true nature to me. By then, we had a good millennium of friendship bonding us. Once in awhile, I remembered that she was even more frightening than the Archangels. Meg knew my true name, which meant she could easily destroy me in a blink. But that reality peeled away whenever we conspired together and shared our deepest, most secret thoughts. Sure, she was one of the few creatures that all residents of Hell and Heaven feared. But she was also a friend.

  Me and Garth Brooks: We've got friends in low places.

  With a shove, Meg released me. I rubbed my arm to work some feeling into it. "You almost severed my forearm. Been working out again?"

  Meg made a kissy face.

  "What," I said playfully, "no tongue?"

  She stuck out her tongue.

  I licked my lips suggestively, but I was far too uneasy to keep up my usual flirting. "What do you think He's going to say?"

  Meg shrugged. "Could be anything." Lowering her voice, she added, "I heard He's been away for awhile. Something about an all-important meeting. But I don't know with who, or about what."

  Darting glances around the Court, I said, "You sure there's going to be a Call? I don't see any of the elite here yet."

  "I know what I heard."

  Perhaps emboldened by our presence, a few demons took hesitant steps onto the courtyard stones. What a shock—they were Arrogant. Of course they'd be the first to shake off their overwhelming fear; they couldn't stand to be upstaged by a Seducer.

  "Oh, look," I said to Meg. "Company."

  "You going to start trouble?"

  "Me? Never."

  They wore male human forms, each with more muscles than the other. I didn't know how they could strut about without tipping over. I batted my lashes at them, and they sauntered forward, mocking grins plastered onto their smug faces.

  "Look at that," one of them said. "A whore's sleeping her way to the top."

  "Slumming with a Fury," said the second. "My, my. You do have ambition, don't you?"

  "Me?" I shrugged. "Nope, no ambition. I leave that for you boys. You know all about overextending your reach, don't you?"

  "Overextending?" The first smiled tightly. "Not even close, whore."

  I tapped my chin. "How does it go, something about pride before a fall?"

  "Yeah, you would know about falls and tumbles, wouldn't you? It's got to be tough on your back," said the third.

  "And your cunt," said the first. "Poor little whore had to be flown here by her friend because her cunt's too sore to let her walk."

  "You do so love that word," I said. "Does it get you off to say cunt? Is that what does it for you—dirty talk?"

  "You know all about dirt," said the second. "Tell us, is it true that all Seducers are pox-infested carriers of disease?"

  "Not at all," I said. "You tell me, is it true that all the Arrogant have their noses so high up in the air, they can't smell their own bullshit?"

  "Listen to the tempter girl." The third leered at me. "You talk tough for a common slut."

  "Not so common," I said, putting a throaty growl into my voice. "Want me to show you just how uncommon I am? What do you say, boys? Any of you demon enough to take me?"

  "What are you, fifth level?" The second demon brayed laughter. "As if
I'd let one of your class even touch my flesh."

  "Funny," I said to Meg. "They talk about levels, but all the Arrogant look the same to me."

  Meg covered her smile behind a hand.

  The second one's eyes lit with rage. "You shouldn't attach yourself to such trash, Erinyes. It rubs off on you."

  "Temper, temper," Meg said. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a demon of Wrath."

  He snarled at her, "Don't you dare associate me with a Berserker, bitch."

  She must have hit a sore spot, because no entity ever, ever insulted the Furies. It was rumored that even God kept the Erinyes at arm's length. I pursed my lips, waiting to see how this would play out.

  Meg locked gazes with the Arrogant. "Watch yourself, little demon. Banter is fine, but I won't stand to be called names by the likes of you."

  I saw fear overtake the ferocity in his eyes, but his nature wouldn't allow him to back off—especially not with his brethren standing by his side. "And what will you do about it, bitch?"

  Her blue eyes flashed like lightning in a clear sky. "Call me that name once more, and you'll find out for yourself." She ended the threat with a small smile, one that underscored the truth of her words.

  Crap. The last thing I needed was a group of the Arrogant holding a grudge against me and my ilk. Pompous asses that they were, they'd probably do something inane like declare a war of Sin. I could see it now: Lust versus Pride, brawling over every mortal soul claimed, tying up the offices of Pandemonium for years in red tape.

  Putting a hand on Meg's shoulder, I said, "Sweetie, think of all the forms you'll have to fill out. Disintegrating a demonic entity without a writ of permit is what, three weeks of paperwork?"

  "Six," she said, the smile still on her face.

  The first Arrogant sniffed disdainfully. "We wouldn't want the poor Erinyes to get writer's cramp. Come, fellows. Leave the whore and her… friend."

  The two dragged their buddy away, with him glaring at Meg and me the entire time. They came to a halt by the extreme left of the platform, where the three of them huddled, casting the occasional black look our way.