by Tim Hawken
I charged at him. He roared as I got close and swung his thick black fists at my head. I let him lightly graze the crown of my head and pretended to fall to the ground in pain. He turned to the crowd again and howled in triumph, just as I had hoped. As he turned, I grabbed the microphone lead, which lay just to the left and jumped on the demon’s back, wrapping it around his neck.
Balthazar’s howls of triumph turned to screams of rage as he tried to fling me from his back. I wrapped the cord tighter around his neck and held on with all my strength. He raged around the stage, twisting and turning, trying to claw me off his back. I held firm. Balthazar grew weak beneath me, his movements becoming slow. He gasped and coughed as I squeezed even tighter around his neck. He dropped to his knees, and then went limp, thundering to the ground. I held on for an extra few seconds before letting go. I stood up panting. Balthazar was still breathing softly, but he was out cold. I didn’t raise my fist or yell in triumph. I just looked up at Satan and said, “We’re leaving.” He nodded his head in assent.
thirteen
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?”, I shouted at Satan as we tumbled back into his car.
“What do you mean?” he asked innocently.
I almost lashed out to hit him, but thought better of it.
“Tricking me into fighting Balthazar, not giving me any warning of why we were coming here or what was going to happen!”
Satan reeled on me, stabbing me in the chest with a sharp finger. It felt like I was being skewered with a knife.
“What did you expect, Michael; me to sit there and hold your hand? Nurse you through your hard times? This is Hell! It’s not all rainbows and lollypops facing your demons. I’m trying to get you over to Heaven in the best way I know and, trust me, I have plenty of experience!” He started to spit as he yelled at me. “If I had warned you about what was to happen, it wouldn’t have helped you one little bit. You would have probably pissed your pants on the way, worrying about what would happen and how you would feel confronting someone you killed in life! I did you a favor. I’m doing you a favor! Don’t ever take that for granted.”
I felt like a stupid kid. What did I expect? I didn’t know, which just made it even harder. I was exhausted, drained from my ordeal. I’d been in Hell for barely a day, but it felt like an eternity. I had seen most of my life in the third person and I hated what I saw, hated who I was.
“Do I really need to give you another pep talk?” Satan asked, switching back to a casual demeanor with such ease it made me blink. He was a chameleon, there was no doubt.
“I tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go and have some fun and take a break. I’ll take you to Magdalene’s Mansion.”
I remembered the name from looking down at Hell on the top floor of Satan’s building. It was a brothel.
“I don’t think so,” I said flatly, not taking to the idea.
“Why not?” he asked, digging me in the ribs. “It’s all fun, Michael, just a bit of play. You don’t owe anyone anything. Let’s go and blow off some steam.”
“What about lust? Isn’t that a sin?” I replied.
Satan threw his head back in the air and laughed.
“Ha! Only if your lust leads to acts like incest, rape or adultery. Sex is the most natural thing in the world, Michael. God invented it. How can he hold it against you if you want to do it as often as possible? Even I want to do it, it’s so much fun, and I’m not even human.”
“But a brothel?” I argued. “It just seems wrong.”
“Worse than tricking a woman into sleeping with you by making her think you’re a nice guy, and then leaving in the morning?” he asked. “Worse than masturbating in the dark with your eyes closed and your ears open? I think not. At least there’s no trickery with a brothel. I know what I’m getting and so do they: money. It’s a fair trade and believe me, the girls at Mary’s enjoy what they do; there’s no need for them to do it. There are plenty of other ways to get by down here. Come on, at least to have a look.”
I gave in. What was the point in resisting The Devil? He had me.
“Great!” Satan clapped his hands together and banged on the divider-screen in the car with his fist. “To Mary’s, driver. My treat.”
We sped up abruptly, heading back toward the suburb of Smoking Gun.
fourteen
WE WALKED THROUGH THE DOORS of the biggest brothel I could have ever imagined: Magdalene’s Mansion. The building must have been over one hundred stories high, made completely of red glazed glass with a detailed painting of a naked woman holding a whip drawn on the façade.
Satan led the way over the red carpet interior, toward the reception desk. It was manned by the most stunning, auburn haired goddess I had ever laid eyes on. She was wearing a sheer, black negligee that was completely see-through and clinging to every curve of her perfect body. Despite myself, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
She looked up with light green eyes, smiling as she recognized who I was with.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Asmodeus,” she beamed with a shining smile of straight, white teeth. “It’s been too long since you’ve walked through those doors!”
“Much too long!” Satan smiled, leaning over the counter to kiss her on the cheek. “How have you been, Oba my love? Keeping busy?”
She giggled at his kiss. “Oh, you know we’re always busy. Almost as busy as you. I assume you want to see Madam Magdalene?”
“I do, Oba, you know me so well! I don’t need to be shown up, I know the way. Could you please look after my man, Michael, here. He wasn’t too keen on coming, he’s shy, but by the look in his eyes maybe you could change his mind?” He winked. Oba laughed seductively, facing me for the first time.
“Oh, I’m sure I can manage him,” she purred, looking me up and down.
“I’ll meet you back at my office,” Satan said over his shoulder as he walked towards a side hallway. “I’ll leave my car out the front for you. Have a good time!”
He disappeared from view. I looked back to Oba and blushed. She was truly gorgeous, a goddess. I didn’t know where to look, afraid my eyes would just stare at her naked body beneath the diaphanous negligee. I ended up staring at my feet. She laughed.
“Oh, come now, Michael,” she pouted, lifting my chin and forcing me to look into her eyes. “I won’t bite,” she whispered, “unless you want me to.”
“I don’t want you to do anything to me,” I lied, keeping my line of sight above her shoulders. I could feel blood fill my cheeks, among other things. I needed a distraction. “Tell me about this place,” I asked. “How many people work here?”
“Very well,” she sighed, “if you really want to be boring, let’s go for a walk.”
She took me by the hand and led me down the passage that Satan had disappeared down just a few moments earlier. Her skin felt warm and soft against my palm. I ached to press myself against her, but I fought the urge. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong.
“This is Magdalene’s Mansion,” Oba started in a seductive tone, “where all of your deepest desires are brought to life. We cater for everyone here, every fantasy, every need. We tickle, suck, lick and delight. We whip, smack, tease and bite. We can be soft or rough. We’ll beg to please you or demand you to please us. Chains are in the dungeon and orgies are upstairs. There’s everything else on the levels in between. In total, a hundred and twenty floors of sexual pleasure. We have over ten thousand girls in our employ and almost as many men -- if that’s the way you swing.”
Oba stopped and opened a door. Around ten sweaty bodies writhed on the ground in a blue room, full of cushions. A blonde near the doorway looked up as a demon thrust into her from behind. She looked me in the eyes and moaned, “Mmm, won’t you come and join us?”
I stepped back and Oba shut the door.
“There is nothing we won’t do for you, Michael, nothing. We’re here to serve you, our desire is for you.”
We continued down the hall, peeking into many doors
as we went. There were rooms with swimming pools, beds, dunes of sand and mock prisons. Some rooms had guests and others were empty. My mind boggled as I peered into this world of absolute hedonism.
Finally, Oba led me into an empty room that was softly lit with a large bed in the middle. She walked in ahead of me and turned as she fell onto the bed. She peeled the negligee off her beautiful body and motioned for me to join her.
“Come on, Michael,” she smiled. “You know you want to. Give in to your desires, they’re only natural.”
I stayed put, looking at her, fighting every fiber of my being not to jump onto the bed with Oba and take her. My resolve weakened as she started to rub her breasts in front of me, sliding her hand down between her parting legs. Slowly, she stopped and looked at me. I went to open my mouth to apologize, but she leaned forward and grabbed my shirt, pulling me on top of her. Pressing her hot lips into mine, her tongue snaked and swirled inside my mouth. I drew in her scent. It reminded me of something, or someone. I fell onto the bed looking into Oba’s eyes. Slowly they turned from her light green shade to the most exquisite blue, like a vision.
fifteen
The plane rumbled around us through jolting turbulence. The seatbelt light flashed on. The beautiful girl next to me grabbed my arm for support. She looked up at me, and I stared into her impossibly big, blue eyes. She started and jumped back into her seat. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she gasped and went red with embarrassment, taking her hands off my arm.
“It’s fine,” I said soothingly. It had been a very long time since I had seen such a naturally beautiful woman. There wasn’t a trace of vanity in the way she held herself, and such trusting eyes.
“First time flying?” I asked.
“Second,” she admitted. “I’ve just been on holiday with my friends in Thailand, and I’m on my way home. They’re all going on to Australia.”
Her tension eased as the turbulence subsided and we started to make small talk.
“I’m Charlotte,” she said holding out her hand. I shook it lightly.
“Michael,” I replied.
“Were you on holidays in Thailand too, Michael?” she asked sweetly.
I thought about lying but when I looked into her face, I couldn’t. It was strange, I’d never felt this way around a woman before. Normally I was confident and brash.
“No, I was fighting in some tournaments in Bangkok,” I said, looking out the window, sure she would stop talking to me after she found out what I did for a living.
“Wow!” she said.
I looked back, surprised. Rather than being frightened, she was intrigued.
“Is that how you got that big bruise on your face? I’m sorry I was staring at it before.” She blushed.
“Oh, I didn’t notice,” I stammered.
She had been staring at me, my heart skipped a little. I felt like such a dork with her sitting there next to me.
“Did you do well in the fights?” She asked.
“Not my last one, the other guy beat me up pretty good.” I said. “But I get paid either way.”
“So you let other men beat you up for money?” she teased.
“It’s not like that,” I protested, “I actually quite enjoy it; fighting, anyway, not the losing part.”
“Enjoy fighting?” she asked. “How do you enjoy it?”
“Fighting has always been an outlet for me to escape,” I told her.
It’s funny the things you will say to a complete stranger.
“I enjoy inflicting pain on other fighters because they remind me of everything I don’t like about myself. I guess I’m a bit of a thug, but so are the men I fight. I love showing I have power over them.”
“That’s so interesting!” she said, looking at me without a trace of revulsion.
I couldn’t believe it. She was so open to what I had to say, so perfect, nodding along with understanding.
“And what about you, Charlotte?” I asked, after talking about myself for a few minutes. “What do you do with yourself when you’re not on holiday in Thailand?”
“I’ve just finished my nursing degree at college and I have a placement at the UCSF Children’s Hospital in San Francisco.”
It was my turn to be interested. She was beautiful, smart and giving.
“So you’d be able to patch me up after a fight?” I joked.
She laughed. Before I knew it, the wheels of our plane had screeched onto the tarmac in Los Angeles. We’d talked the entire time without a break. I had opened up to her in ways that I never had with anyone before. It was the first time I’d really talked to someone. Not just about what I do, but my feelings. I was giving her a part of myself without even knowing I was doing it. There was not a doubt in my mind that I’d fallen for this girl. We walked together off the plane but had to part ways at the transfer desk. I stopped awkwardly, wanting to say something smart and ask her for her number. I couldn’t get the words out, but she saved me.
“So will I see you again, Michael?” Charlotte asked with her innocent smile.
“Of course,” I grinned. I was so excited. She wanted to see me again just as much as I wanted to see her.
sixteen
I BLINKED. I was looking into green eyes with soft lips pressed against mine. I jumped back.
“What? Charlotte?” But I was looking at the prostitute, Oba.
“Relax,” she said. “You’re with Oba now.” She tried to lean in but I stopped her. I stood up off the bed.
“I’m sorry, Oba. I’m spoken for.”
She looked hurt. “Well, why follow me in here in the first place, then?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
“No, I didn’t know. I…” I didn’t even finish my sentence. I turned and walked from the room with Oba yelling for me to come back, but my interest in such a gorgeous woman had died with my regained memory of Charlotte.
I had to find Satan. I had to find out about the rest of my life. Did I ever see Charlotte again? I must have, I knew it; she was ‘the one’. She must be. Why else would I have had a vision of her? I was happy, nervous and scared all at the same time. Just to have been in the presence of someone so truly wonderful had been a reprieve from the rest of my life. What if I didn’t get to see her again? Who knows what could have happened; I was living in Las Vegas and she was in San Francisco. Could I have turned into a stalker or something? I doubted it. I would never do anything to hurt my Charlotte. It sounded crazy, me thinking of her as my Charlotte, but somehow I knew that we must have ended up together. I was certain.
I burst through the front doors of the brothel and onto the street. My focus was so intense that I didn’t even feel the heat of the outside air. I flung the door of the waiting limousine open and pounded on the divider window. “Take me to Satan,” I yelled. We peeled out into the traffic. I sat forward in my seat, smiling. “I met the love of my life,” I said aloud. I was so happy. There was no way I was staying down in Hell with so much love in my heart. I would do no wrong, hurt no soul nor envy any man while I had Charlotte. I was ready to see out my fate and cross over to Heaven. I would wait patiently for Charlotte to meet me there. I hoped she was okay, not too worried or sad that I’d left her alone. I smiled again. Everything would turn out fine; we would be together again eventually. Of that I was sure.
I didn’t even let the car stop completely before jumping out onto the pavement. I rushed into the foyer of the building I had started the day in.
Clytemnestra still sat at reception in her black dress. She stood up, flashing her fang-like teeth in a forced smile.
“Hello, Michael,” she said. “Where is Mr. Asmodeus?”
“He’s not back yet?” I asked hurriedly.
“He’s not with you?” she asked back with a puzzled frown.
“No, we got split up after going to The Pit.” I answered cautiously. No use in getting on the wrong side of Satan; who knew what kind of a relationship he had with this woman. She glared up at me suspiciously.
“He said to meet
him back here if we were separated. Should I wait for him upstairs?” I suggested, not wanting to stand under Clytemnestra’s accusing eyes any longer.
“I suppose you can,” she answered slowly. “Go up to the top floor. I’ll send him up as soon as he arrives.”
“He won’t be too long,” I offered confidently as I walked towards the elevator, thoughts of Charlotte racing through my head.
The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside, pressing floor 666. As the elevator jerked upward, I leaned back and sighed. I closed my eyes and pictured Charlotte’s innocent face, her gorgeous smile and her throaty laugh. She was the epitome of natural beauty. I hoped deep in my bones that we had met again after that day. I had the feeling we had, but was nervous with uncertainty. I switched back and forth from being confident that we were destined to be together to being completely unsure of anything. I was afraid that I might have let a once in a lifetime moment slip through my foolish fingers.
The elevator doors slid open onto the top level and I walked into the lushly carpeted room. The view was incredible. Despite the thoughts pounding through my brain, I was once again awestruck at the savage beauty of Hell. The sprawling city set against the jagged mountain, deserts and lakes was stunning. All the most incredible landscapes of earth rolled into a supernatural setting of eerie light and construction. I took a seat on the floor near the furthest window, watching the traffic below. It was still hard to accept that existence of the soul really did go on after death. I had never fully believed in the afterlife and now it was being rammed down my throat.
Absentmindedly, I was playing with something on my finger as I thought about Charlotte. I looked down at my hand. On my left, a sparkling gold band sat on my ring finger. My heart stopped beating for just a moment. I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t noticed it before. I had been so caught up with the events of the day that I hadn’t taken in this simple, but important clue to my previous life. Was this a wedding ring? I cast my eyes out to the horizon to see what I was now impatient for: a boiling flame rolling across the skyscape. A flare of light shot across the clouds with a loud roar. I lay back ready for my next vision.
