Voices of Hell

by Catherine Stovall

  Ashur spun her so that her breasts pressed against his chest, the pressure causing the festering wound from the blessed bullet to sting. His arms came around her and his tongue explored her mouth as his nearly crushed the air out her body.

  As her body responded in kind to his, she searched with her fingers until they brushed against the sword that still stuck in the wall. Her hand closed around the hilt, and Izzy sucked in a deep breath as her palm and fingers scorched. Fighting the urge to pull away and end the blisters bubbling on her flesh, she yanked forward, the handle nearly melted into her hand.

  “Iyzebel,” Ashur cried out as she pulled out of his arms.

  Using the last vestiges of her strength, she swung the heavy weapon in a wide arc.

  The sharp edge of the steel cut deep as it slashed in a vertical line across Ashur’s chest, sending the demon to his knees. Izzy joined her demon in a cry of rage, and lifted the sword once more, preparing to end the curse that had befallen her so many years before.

  His hands pressing against the open wound, trying to hold the flesh together so that it might heal, Ashur looked at her in stunned surprise. “Izzy, my vixen, my siren, my love. Don’t do this, don’t end it this way.” His blue eyes shined as he begged for mercy, but his pleas fell on deafened ears.

  “Love, Ashur? You have never known love, and you never will.” The weight of the sword gave it momentum as she sent it careening downward with power and efficiency. Ashur’s head slid from his shoulders, the font of crimson liquid splattering up like a wishing well fountain, and the fighting behind her came to stop. Unable to find the strength to turn and face whichever victor between the angels and demons might be standing in wait, Iyzebel’s trembling limbs gave out, and she slunk to the floor.

  In seconds, Rafael pulled her into his arms, rolling her so that her head rested in his lap. Concerned filled his blood splattered features as he tore away the blood soaked and torn fabric of her shirt to reveal the festering skin below.

  “Izzy, hang on. You’re okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

  “Why can’t I feel my demon? What’s happening to me?” she panted through the shards of pain ripping through her skin.

  “It’s the blood of Christ. It’s poisoning you, slowly,” he explained as he pressed his hands down on the wound, summoning his power to heal.

  Izzy placed her blistered and fevered fingers over his, shaking her head no. For the first time, he saw her. Not the demon, not the woman, but the person within. The face that he had so lovingly painted stared upward, full of acceptance and love, as she smiled at him and Ogwald.

  “Let me die. Kill me. Please don’t let me suffer. Just send me into oblivion. If I go to Hell, there will just be another demon to want to use me. I don’t want to come back again.” She coughed and the torment erupted inside her like fireworks in the night sky. “I’m scared, Rafael. I might not make the right choice the next time.”

  Bowing his head, the tears streamed from his eyes, “Izzy. No. I can’t. I won’t let you go. Let me heal you, baby. Let me try.”

  In response, she whispered, “I love you.”

  He held her as she cried, the tears streaming down her face, and his anger welled. She’d lost so much in a matter of a few days. Though Ashur had been the cause of her demise, he had also been her savior. Giovanni and Aosoth had been special to her as well. Her demon and her rage had been her only comfort when Ashur had hurt her or she felt alone, and it had been lost in the final battle. All those things had been destroyed, but she’d remained strong and true. Yet, when it came to saving herself, he saw her giving up and letting go.

  “I will not let you die. I will not give you up so easily. I promised you a lifetime of love, Iyzebel, and an angel doesn’t lie.” Denying her a dying wish out of selfishness and love, Raf sent a surge of power into the wounds. Willing the poison blood to stop its course and the body to heal, he ignored her protests.

  Izzy gasped, the familiar feel of fire and agony twisting inside. Her hands clenched around his as she screamed. Her heart fought to pump the tainted blood through her system, and Rafael struggled to reverse its path. The war over her life waged as she lay watching his attempts in misery, an unwilling participant on either side. Her vision blurred until his white feathery wings spread impossibly wide and filled with light, an ethereal hallucination to ease her passing.

  Death wears a familiar face to comfort his victims. A mask resembling cherished loved ones fitted over his ghastly brow, so the dying might willingly take his hand and pass from this world in peace. It is my time, and where I once judged him as a charlatan and a liar, I embrace the Reaper now. I am grateful for this last image of the one I love, swathed in the light of the God he serves.

  Goodbye, Rafael, my angel.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Weeks had passed in a haze of sadness and blood as Rafael and Ogwald cleansed the city of the demon horde, fighting side by side against the evil Ashur had unleashed. Their faces were haggard and their spirits brought low by the Iyzebel’s death, they trudged through the remains of the monsters day and night. Each kill brought back the heartache and loss, and the pain of losing her became a dull ache in the center of their world.

  In the darkness of an abandoned warehouse, the two quietly searched out their final target. Rafael and Ogwald had known the creature in the days before the Fall, and both knew he’d be a dangerous foe. Quick to battle, he’d fought as Michael’s second in the first war, and had emerged a monster. The lust for blood and rage had turned him even before he’d been cast from Heaven in shame.

  Tiring of hide and seek, his depression pushing him to take risks, Raf called out, “Baldwin! Come out and face your end.”

  Beside him, Ogwald skittered to a stop, whispering, “You fool.”

  The beating of wings filled the building, stirring the cold air. “Demon slayer, you will regret this day.”

  From behind, the demon swooped down, its powerful clawed feet digging into Rafael’s back and lifting him upward. The thin membranes beneath his ivory feathers tore and ripped, as the monster swung him through the air. Shoving Damocles upward, Raf felt the blade tear into Baldwin’s flesh and the monster let go.

  He fell, unable to command his tattered wings, his body striking the concrete floor and his sword flying from his hand. The shattered bones in his leg and arm protested as Raf tried to struggle to his feet, but the demon struck again.

  Darting from the right, the creature slashed outward, its Talons ripping across Raf’s cheek. As his body spun, the blood sprayed outward and he careened backward, falling against the wall. In the distance, he saw Ogwald running toward him, but the demon struck again. Snatching him up from the ground, Baldwin spun in the air, and threw his body to the left. His head bounced on the hard surface and more bones broke. Rafael felt consciousness slipping, his heart matching the beat of the creature’s wings as it came in for a killing blow.

  Closing his eyes, he admitted defeat. In his mind, he saw Iyzebel standing before him, a sweet smile lighting up her face. Knowing that he would no longer have to live without his heart, he accepted his fate and awaited death.

  The pounding of Baldwin’s wings grew closer, the leathery appendages driving the beast’s speed to greater heights, and its victorious scream shrieked outward to bounce off the stone walls. In his last moment, Raf whispered her name, knowing that his heart would never decompose because his love of Izzy had conquered such things.

  The sound of a double barreled shot gun being brought to the ready pierced his thoughts, and his eyes flew open to find the source. For a moment he was lost in the sight of thousands of ivory feathers, each one catching the smallest gleams of light and radiating an ethereal luminance. However, a familiar voice quickly drew his attention to the face of the woman standing beside him.

  “I couldn’t let you guys have all the fun.” With a wicked grin in his direction, Izzy leveled the gun and fired, and the last demon fell.

  Until We Meet Again

&nbs
p; About the Author

  Catherine Stovall is the author of Faire Eve, The Requiem of Humanity Series, Arcana: The Maiden, the Death Eater Series, Voices of Hell, and the short stories, Bloody Freedom (Broken Mirrors, Fractured Minds Anthology) and The Freak (Cirque D'Obscure anthology). She also has the privilege of being the editor and a contributor to the Cogs in Time Anthologies—where you can find her short story, Wren City, and a poem entitled The Cogs in Time, and the Rise of the Goddess Anthology—where you can find her story, A Goddess's Revenge.

  Stovall is a member of the International Thriller Writers and The Fictioneers, and is a friend to the Elliot Library. She also enjoys working with other independent authors to spread awareness and to build a better indie community as well as doing charity work through her status as an author to fund literacy and animal shelters.

  Catherine is a fearless creature who surrounds herself with the joys of life both in and out of her fictional worlds. She lives in Southeast Missouri with her husband, three children, and pets. When not writing, she spends her time riding motorcycles, wearing elaborate hats, and genuinely enjoying the oddities in life.