by J. P. Rice
Suddenly, my muscles bulged, and I dragged Cerberus toward me by just his tooth as Darkwing tugged in the other direction. With this newfound strength, I twisted my hand around, trying to loosen the tooth. I felt it give way and shuffled my feet backward, dragging the immense beast along the stone floor.
Having control of the tooth gave me control of all three of his heads. I pulled and tugged but I still couldn’t rip the damn thing out. Another plume of light showed that Darkwing was losing her grip as Cerberus kicked at her with his hind legs. Just as the light died out, I saw something that looked like a whip lash out at me.
A firm, heavy object blasted my right cheek, right below my eye. Instant stars. Fighting away the ringing pain and spots in my vision, I realized it was his serpent’s tail. Maintaining my grip, I called on more strength from the Dagda. I leaned back and pulled the enormous guard dog of hell across the stone floor. How did I get this much strength without magic?
Ripping and pulling, I felt the roots loosening. Another flamethrower-like shot of fire sprang from the wall. Darkwing’s gaping jaws were closing in on Cerberus’s hind leg. The guard dog yelped in agony and I yanked back on the fang with all my strength. The tooth’s roots finally gave up and I fell backwards.
With fang in hand, I hit a soft spot on the wall. As I realized it was only a sheet covering a hole in the wall, I was already on my back, sliding down a smooth incline with my prize in my hand. I wondered if I was in the laundry chute as I continued to fall further into the depths of hell.
Chapter 9
A ray of light appeared, and the slide ended abruptly. Tumbling through the air, my back made contact with the ground first, landing on something soft but not very forgiving. My body folded up into an accordion and then straightened back out.
As I rolled around on the mattress and shook the cobwebs loose, I heard a group of people laughing. I jumped up, attempted to dust myself off and raised my head. Holy shit.
I stared in awe at Hades, the Morrigan, the Grim Reaper, Osiris and Ereshkigal. The Gods were sitting at a round table, but they had all turned and were facing me. They appeared to be playing the game Gut because they all had a playing card pressed against their foreheads.
Hades spoke in a gruff voice, “He’s not dead. But Cerberus never loses. What are you covered in?” He took a big sniff of the stale air. “Is that feces?” Hades was dressed like Hugh Hefner in a burgundy bathrobe with a monogrammed H over his heart. A long black pipe with smoke billowing out of it hung from his pasty lips. The pale man had icy blue eyes with just tiny pin pricks of pupils. Quite intimidating.
Soaked in shit, I didn’t have any excuse or remedy and just lowered my head in shame. I heard a loud bark from behind and a heavy object clobbered me in the back, taking us both to the ground. Oh no. Was Cerberus on the hunt for round two? In front of all the Gods and Goddesses of Death or the Underworld? That seemed cruel.
I felt a warm tongue trace along my stubbly cheek and pulled my face away. Jumping up, I rounded to face the beast. Relief poured through my veins when I saw the huge dog only had one head. Darkwing.
Hades stood up and threw his card on the green felt table. “No dogs allowed. And she’s covered in shit too. Take that beast out now and hose the stink off this young man.”
I thought he was talking to me, but his assistant sprang into action and guided Darkwing out of the room. The tall man in a pinstriped suit let me into a small shower stall. He opened a door that had been crafted into the wall outside the stall and pulled out a hose nozzle. The hot water bordered on boiling as I hopped around trying not to get burnt.
Hades’ assistant sprayed me clean, leaving my body bright red. Suddenly, a door slid shut, trapping me in the dark. I pounded on the door, wondering what the hell was going on. Powerful wind bursts erupted from all sides, and it dawned on me that this was the drying station too. The jet blasts continued for about a minute and stopped as the door slid open and light rushed in.
I stepped out clean from the shit bath earlier and in a nice dry golden robe. Feeling refreshed, I almost forgot I was in the depths of hell. The assistant ran back over to the bar and started fixing drinks.
Curiosity forced my legs to start moving toward the table and find out what they were doing. They were playing poker, but I couldn’t figure out what they were playing for.
The chips looked like little virtual touchscreens the size of baseball cards. Some had flashing lights and they all had a glowing outline of various colors. I kept moving closer because the Gods weren’t even acknowledging me anymore. They were focused on the game at hand.
The Morrigan shuffled the deck of cards and said, “Follow the Queen. Ante up.”
Everyone threw a few chips into the pot in the middle of the table.
Dressed in tight black leather pants and a purple Pussy Riot T-shirt, the Morrigan leaned up out of her seat to deal the cards. I noticed a chip sticking out of her back pocket. In neon green across the top was the name, Micheal Anthony Merlino. Was she planning on playing with this?
I yanked it out of her back pocket and before I could look at anything else on the card, the Morrigan jumped out of her seat, spun in mid-air, landed on her feet right in front of me, and slapped me across the face. I felt it in the marrow of my soul.
I tasted salty blood and checked my teeth. The Morrigan’s eyes widened in anger. “How dare you touch that? That is not for a mere mortal like you.”
I held it up to show her. “Not for me? It has my name on it.”
She shook her head, her wild black hair moving from side to side. “Don’t piss me off or I will throw it into the pot right now.”
“I’m not trying to start a fight. I just wanted to look at it. And what are you all doing down here?” I asked.
The Morrigan looked around the table at her fellow dark deities and announced, “Drink break. I’ll deal in five minutes.”
Hades called his assistant over and the suited man started taking more drink orders for the table. The Grim Reaper held his arms out at his sides. “Where’s my Rum Runner, Tarone?”
The assistant’s pale face went flush. “So sorry about that, Cassius. I’ll have that right out.”
I didn’t know the Grim Reaper’s name was Cassius. Garbed in a black hooded cloak, he wasn’t just a skeleton as most pictures would indicate. He was skeletal, but pale skin with a light blue tint covered his hands and face. He reached into the cloak and pulled out a glass vial with a gray powder in it.
He held it in the air and looked around. “Who’s down for having some fun?”
Most of the other deities shook their heads or waved him off. Cassius said, “Fine. I’ll have all the fun myself.” He checked a watch on his left wrist and I wondered what time it had been set to. The Grim Reaper dumped out some of the chunky powder and broke it up with one of the soul cards.
I watched in fascination until the Grim Reaper looked up at me. “If you want to bang a line, just say so. You don’t have to stare at me drooling like that.
“No. I’m good. Just wondering what that is.”
“How do you know you don’t want it then? And it’s angel dust, Holmes.”
“Not to sound like a knowitall, but isn’t angel dust supposed to be bright white, hence the name?”
Cassius laughed and said, “That’s not real angel dust. This is the real deal. We kidnap an angel, then kill him or her, dry them out and grind them up. It makes cocaine seem like aspirin.” He took out a hand blown glass straw and snorted a big gray line of the powder. As he leaned back in his chair, Tarone arrived with his Rum Runner. I never thought I would see Death smiling, but there was a first time for everything.
The Morrigan extended her arm with the card in her hand. I’d almost forgotten she was standing next to me. I took it and pulled it closer to my face. The card had my name at the top, a 3-D image of my face in the middle, the numbers 96 and 3,700. And right below my name were the words, ‘Redeem Soul Now.’
“What does all this mea
n?” I asked the Morrigan.
She explained, “These are soul cards. Whoever is in possession of that card when you die, claims your soul.”
“What do the numbers mean?”
“They are your scores. The higher the number, the purer the soul. You are a 96.”
“That’s pretty good, huh?”
“You are 96 out of 1,000,” she said in a serious tone.
“Oh, that certainly puts a new coat of paint on the wall.”
I looked up from the card as the Morrigan smirked and rolled her eyes. I said, “Very funny. What does the other number mean?”
The Morrigan took a sip of her drink and set it on the table next to her stack of cards. “That is your total score. The total score takes into account all your good and bad deeds. It also factors in which way you are trending. You have a high value right now because you used to commit only bad deeds in your past. But recently almost all of your deeds have been determined to be righteous. Trending factors affect the total value.”
“Is 3700 a lot of points?”
The Morrigan nodded and reached back, snatching something off the table. She handed me another card. John Jacob Arletz. I didn’t recognize the name so I assumed it was just a random card. His scores were 1 and 6. “I think I get the point. So why do you have my card tucked into your back pocket?”
The Morrigan paused for a few moments, “Let me first say that I am glad to see you alive. However, many people travel down here and never leave. If something was to happen to you down here, I was going to take your soul with me.”
“Make sure you’re being safe with this thing,” I said waving the card in my hand.
“Don’t worry. That one is all mine,” she promised with a wink. It didn’t really put me at ease.
“Also, be careful you don’t hit that button under my name by accident.”
“Don’t worry, Micheal. There is a confirmation screen that pops up, so I can’t claim your soul with just one touch. And don’t worry, I won’t let your soul fall into the wrong hands.”
“So you guys just do this for fun?” I asked looking around. Osiris and Ereshkigal were talking near the bar. Hades was yelling at his assistant for not making his drink strong enough. And Cassius was crushing another line of angel dust.
“More or less. You’ll be glad to know that I will treat your soul with the respect it deserves. Not everyone at this table would grant the same honor,” she warned in an ominous tone and pointed at Osiris, then Hades.
“What do you actually do with the soul?” I wanted to know.
The Morrigan shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever we desire. Some experiment on the soul. Some let it roam free. Some assign them to be guardian angels. Some torture the soul for enjoyment. Some absorb them into their own being. Some hand them over to their fellow Gods.”
“I still don’t really understand.” It seemed weird that they would have dominion over the soul.
The Morrigan sipped her drink and gave a thumbs up to Hades’ assistant. She turned her goth face with burning blue eyes back to me. “The world needs us. You need us. If we didn’t sort out the souls after death, they could reenter their bodies and come back to life. The earth’s surface would be full of zombies. As you’ve seen, some of the souls are sent here to be dealt with, some are passed on to the heavens if they are worthy. We are the sorting system, but we also use the souls for our own devices.”
I had to ask, “So let’s say that a card fell into the wrong hands.”
“It won’t,” she immediately answered and picked up the deck of cards.
“Okay. Hypothetically...”
Shuffling the cards in her hands, the Morrigan cut me off, “It won’t.”
“Please just let me finish,” I said. She rolled her eyes and looked at the stone ceiling. “If any card fell into the wrong hands and someone hit that Redeem Now button, would that person die immediately?”
“Yes. Next question,” she stated bluntly and threw the cards on the table.
“Why is that even available?” I asked.
Before the Morrigan could answer, Cassius slammed his slender hand on the table. “Motherfucker. Guys, I have to go. Every time I start to have a bit of fun, I get called in.” He pressed a few buttons on his watch and stood up. Hades’ assistant ran over with a hickory walking stick and handed it to Cassius. No scythe, huh? He spoke into his watch, “I’m on it. I’ll be right there.”
The Grim Reaper cursed under his breath as he left the room.
I’d almost forgotten what question I’d asked the Morrigan. She grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes and said, “The world would be thrust into chaos if we didn’t take some people out of the mix. Overpopulated. Food would become scarce and great wars would break out. It seems like a harsh aspect of life. Death. But it is the most necessary one.”
“How do you decide?” I asked, as everyone started taking their spots at the table.
“That depends on a multitude of factors. It could even simply come down to the fact that a God is upset at that particular time. Most of the time they are calculated decisions. But sometimes,” she said, pointing around the table. “Sometimes, we have a little fun.”
“What happens when the person dies?”
“Then the card loses its value dramatically. With a reckless boy like you, I should probably use this one soon,” the Morrigan said, snatching the card back from me and tucking it into her back pocket.
I looked around and knew my time was limited. “Just one last question. Why would you want, say, a Greek soul? They wouldn’t be able to get into a Celtic Heaven, would they?”
The Morrigan settled back into her seat and looked up at me. “After death has consumed the body, the soul still maintains its knowledge. If I claim a Greek soul that is well educated in a field that would be of value to a Celtic God, that makes it valuable despite its origins. I’ll send that soul to the God that would get the greatest value out of it.”
I tried to squeeze in another question. “So that’s how Clara Spiritus and the Deep Burrow are so technologically advanced?”
A smile started in the Morrigan’s spooky eyes but her lips never got the message. “You are wise beyond your years. I’ve harvested some valuable souls over the years. Those souls have proved valuable with many Celtic advancements. You’ve already taken advantage of those medical services to heal your body of a terminal disease. Had I not claimed the souls of some talented physicians over the years, you would have had to rely on your health insurance, which you didn’t have.”
Holy shit. That was a pretty crazy system. I still wasn’t sure I understood everything fully, but it was much clearer than when I’d fallen down that chute.
“All right, Stink Boy, it’s time for you to leave if you don’t have any chips to play with,” Hades said, shooing me away like a dog.
But I didn’t stink anymore. Did I? A quick sniff check of my underarms confirmed that the smell was gone. Plus, I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Osiris or Ereshkigal. “Can I get some water before I go, sir?”
Hades rolled his eyes and turned to his assistant. He nodded begrudgingly, and his subservient employee ran over to the bar. The suited man returned in a flash, walked up to me and extended a large bottle of Fiji Water. Nice, the good stuff.
The assistant put his hand on the small of my back and ushered me toward the door. He opened the door and shoved me through like an unwelcome guest.
“Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra,” barked Darkwing, running over to me.
I petted her behind the ears, then opened the bottle of water. I knew this girl was probably much thirstier than I was. Holding the water near her mouth, I tilted the bottle slowly. The water spilled out and Darkwing lapped it up greedily.
With the dog hydrated, I tried to figure out how to get out of here. It appeared we were back on the rotunda that had taken us all the way to the bottom of hell. I assumed I just needed to walk back up the path, the same way I’d walked down.
As I sta
rted up the corkscrew incline, Darkwing disappeared into the shadows. I was left alone with my jumbled thoughts. My right hand dove into my robes, pinching and feeling around for the object I’d come for. There it was. Cerberus’s tooth. It was about the size of my pinkie finger, yellowing and sharp.
I continued up the dimly lit path, remaining on alert for Cerberus to attack at any time. The door to Wrath slid open as I approached and I sneaked through the smaller opening. As I approached the viewing area of the inhabitants and the nasty conditions, I heard wild screaming.
Pushing panic aside, I put one foot in front of the other and turned the bend. Standing in my path on the rotunda were Adolf Hitler, Alexander the Great and what appeared to be high-ranking officials from their armies.
I backed away from the blockade, wondering how the hell I could get past them. As I took one more step backward, my hand hit something moist. I could feel breathing on my hand and realized it was the nose of an animal. Most likely a dog. Most likely, it was fucking Cerberus.
Spinning around on the dim path, I recognized Darkwing and my heart calmed down a touch. I still couldn’t see how we were going to get to the top. As I gazed down at the hellhound for inspiration, it seemed like the animal had an idea.
Darkwing was leaning down, gesturing with her head for me to get on her back. I wasn’t sure what her plan was, but it was certainly better than no idea. Hopefully.
I slid onto the dog’s back and hooked my arms around her neck. Darkwing jogged down the incline, causing me to worry slightly about getting out of here. The hellhound slowed to a stop and turned around. A deep baritone growl started in the dog’s belly and rumbled internally. I could feel it building.
The rumble deepened as it rushed up to the dog’s throat and spilled from her mouth. Slow deep barking erupted as Darkwing’s legs started to move.
