From my tilted, ground-level perspective, I witnessed the Hell Hawk swoop down on Monica. Its talons sank in but swept ghostlike through her body. Instead, its claws lifted something both transparent and luminescent. It was also human-shaped. But the same red hair draped from her head.
Monica’s soul.
Blazing wings tucked in as the creature barrel-rolled back into the depths of Hell.
“No…” I said, pushing myself off of the ground. “No no no no NOOOOO!”
I ripped my suit jacket off and started towards the ledge again. I hastily swept the Demon Dagger out of the blood-soaked ashes.
“Are you insane?” said Cate. “You’re going to die down there!”
The look I gave my sister was pure, raw, untainted desperation. “She’s the only thing I have worth living for.”
I broke into a sprint and dove headfirst over the ledge.
The heat swallowed me. The very atmosphere was streaked in spiraling fire. Like I was plunging down into the surface of the sun. I was in a raging, fiery freefall. Already, I felt like my face was going to melt off and my eyeballs would pop.
I glanced back up at the hole. From my new perspective, the circular Gateway was floating very out of place in an endless orange sky, distorted by heat waves.
But screw the fire escape. I had only one priority right now and that was reaching Monica back before it was too late.
I spotted the Hell Hawk—a distant, sweeping silhouette. Though its legs were tucked close, the luminescent thing in its talons was unmistakable. Monica was a glistening teardrop in a sea of burning hate.
I tucked my arms close and legs close. I was a straight line—a knife cutting through the inferno.
I could feel my flesh scalding. I didn’t care. My purpose defied pain. It was an animalistic drive that went beyond anything rational in the universe. Monica’s last words were branded into my skull, still burning.
I love you…
I closed in on the Hawk. As if the hell around us wasn’t bad enough, I could feel the added heat emanating from its body. One lengthy flap of its barbed wings closed the gap. I whipped the Demon Dagger out. Stabbed the outstretched appendage. The Hell Hawk screeched bloody agony.
Unfortunately, the blade continued to slice through the skin of its wing. I slid further down its barbed appendage. I flailed frantically for something to grasp onto.
The wing retracted. I was flung beneath its emaciated body. Our falling momentum held me in place—just long enough to stab the Dagger in its chest. The creature screeched again. It writhed wildly. I held onto the Dagger—the only thing separating me from a plunge through endless purgatory. My focus followed down its long form. To the tucked-in talons clutching Monica’s soul. Her transparent face was serene.
That wouldn’t last for long. Not if the Hell Hawk managed to deliver her.
At our current velocity, there was no way I could climb across the Hell Hawk’s belly. And I needed the Dagger to slice Monica free. That left only one option. It was risky. It was stupid. It was insane.
It was the only thing I had.
I ripped the Dagger out of the Hell Hawk’s chest. Gravity took over. I slid up its slanted lower body. A trail of hot embers igniting behind me. It was a split-second—one more and I would be free-falling.
I stabbed the creature again, this time in the thigh.
Monica was right below me. Hell blazed through her transparent figure. I was right where I wanted to be. I refastened my grip around the Hell Hawk’s tucked leg. Ripping the Dagger out, I slashed at its ankle. The talons flashed open, dropping Monica’s lower half. Her torso was still gripped firmly by the other set.
The creature stretched its elongated neck below. Its serpentine head struck at me. Multiple rows of jagged teeth gnashed. I pulled back, narrowly saving myself. The Hall Hawk reared back its ugly head. I readied the Dagger. The monster struck and I retaliated.
I didn’t expect the two forked tongues that whipped out of its mouth instead. Both wrapped around my arm like searing hot cable wire. With one jerk of its head, I was catapulted effortlessly into the open sky. Before I even had a chance to regain myself, a flare erupted from the fire below. It hit me with tangible force—an explosive punch—engulfing me. White hot agony became numbness.
My vision swayed in and out of focus. I couldn’t comprehend my surroundings anymore. Everything was a red and orange blur.
The Hell Hawk was gone. Monica was lost.
A very distinct blackness stood out against the red. It started off small, but grew larger. The strange shadow swallowed me whole.
***
White.
Everything was white. It was almost painful to keep my eyes open.
I rolled over onto my side. I immediately winced at the stabbing pain. My dress shirt and slacks were tattered. The flesh beneath was burned and blistered—clearly in no hurry to heal. Only Hellfire could burn a Demon like this. And I was practically swimming in the shit.
Cringing, I forced myself to sit up. The whiteness did not extend forever. Not even close. I could see the walls. The ceiling. I was in a perfectly square, perfectly white room. A cube. It was also relatively cramped, stretching only about twenty feet in any direction. It felt more like a prison. Or a psyche ward.
And then came the sign I was looking for. A puddle of black liquid seeped through the floor. It pooled outward. And then it bulged.
I crawled to my feet, ready to face it.
A bald head emerged from the pool of black. This was followed by a body dressed in a white suit. The fabric escaped the black liquid untainted. The figure proceeded to levitate over the black pool. He had no hands or feet however. His wrists and ankles ended in stumps, soaked and dripping with the same black liquid that he had emerged from. The most horrifying feature, however, was his face. If you could even call this nightmarish thing a face. His empty eye sockets were sewn shut. Both his nose and ears were nothing more than gaping cavities in his otherwise smooth-complexioned face. And then his mouth simply ceased to exist—just a smooth stretch of skin from cheek to cheek.
“Hey, dad,” I grumbled. “You handsome devil, you.”
This really wasn’t the time for sarcasm. Even from the Prodigal Son. But my brain was just so completely past sanity, I really didn’t give a shit.
The creature I called father pointed his inky wrist-stub at the nearest wall. More black liquid seeped through the wall, forming letters…words…
You have betrayed me, Dante. You are not worthy of my kingdom.
“I don’t want it,” I said. “All I want is Monica. Where is she?”
He nodded at the same wall. The inky words altered.
The girl has disgraced me too. She will suffer for eternity.
All sense of rationality and composure snapped. I rushed him. Swung my fist at his malformed face. It connected with a sickening smack. His head flew back. I furiously grabbed his collar, ramming him into the near wall.
“Where is she, you hell-fucked bastard?” I screamed.
My father didn’t even move. The pool of black beneath him reacted instead. A black pillar shot out, nailing me in the chest and flinging me to the opposite end of the room. My head and back hit the far wall with a resounding thud. The black liquid had reformed into a long black arm, ending with a massive black hand that proceeded to wrap around my throat. My feet dangled inches from the white floor.
My father levitated towards me until his ugly face was hovering inches away. His missing mouth suddenly ripped open, revealing toothless gums.
“I ought to destroy you permanently for your insolence,” he said with a lisp. “Do you think you’re some sort of hero? How exactly did you plan on saving that girl anyway? Riding the Hell Hawk back to the Gateway? Your naivety is enough to make me sick.”
I gripped the inky appendage at my throat. Leaned my head forward as best I coul
d. I was undeterred. “Where. Is. Monica?”
My father pressed his new mouth into a straight line. This lasted for several long seconds. It might have been a staring contest if the old man actually had eyes.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll show her to you.”
The inky liquid released me, retracting into the dark pool. The entire gigantic puddle soaked completely into the floor until the only black liquid left was the stuff dripping from my father’s wrist and ankle stubs. As I staggered away from the wall, he drifted towards it. With a slight nod of his head, the wall rippled—a massive pool of liquid white. A new image appeared.
It was a narrow cliff ledge hanging over what appeared to be the sea. But there was no sky. No illuminating moon or starlight. This was blocked out by a vast cave ceiling that seemed to stretch for miles in all directions. Instead, a crimson light emanated from this peculiar ocean.
“Follow me,” he said.
He floated directly into the wall. The image to ripple as he passed through. His image appeared on the other side. I followed.
Walking through the wall was like walking into a vertical sheet of water—only I emerged on the other side instantly. Not even slightly wet. A gentle breeze greeted me on the cliff ledge. This was accompanied by a sound—almost like a howling wind. But something was off. My father had already drifted to the rocky lip overhanging the sea. I hurried to catch up with him. The cliff ended in a hundred foot drop.
A nightmare was painted on the water’s surface.
Bodies. Millions of souls like Monica’s strewn throughout the ocean. The red light emanated from each transparent spirit. They writhed and thrashed amongst each other like maggots.
The sound that I thought was the wind was… It was the culmination of their moans and screams.
“Beautiful,” said the Devil. He gestured to the scene with his oozing black stumps. “Is it not?”
“What is this?” I said.
“Oh, you know what this is. These are the worst of the worst. The sons of perdition. The choicest of my damned souls. Mentally, they are not here. Rather, they are lost slaves to their own personal hells. They feed on their own horrific memories and nightmares. Eternal torment, Dante. This is what it looks like.”
My stomach churned. I was sick just watching this squirming sea of red, roaring in agony. I forced myself to look at my feet.
“I consider this my…private collection, if you will,” said the Devil. His torn lips curled into a smirk. “I create my Demons from these souls, you know. They all start off as lumps of coal. But if you apply enough pressure…you just might find yourself a diamond.”
“You never showed me these ones before,” I said.
“I’ve never felt the need to show you. Or anyone else for that matter. But now that you have a girlfriend who swims these waters, I suppose that changes things.”
I lifted my head. My stomach plunged further into my inner abyss. “Where is she?”
My father pointed his nubby black-stained wrist straight ahead. “Do you see that spec of blue?”
My father referred to visual things as if he still had eyes. I knew, however, that his sensory powers extended far beyond the five traditional senses. I followed the direction of his nub, and sure enough, there was a hint of blue aura fighting against the crimson. It was emanating from deep beneath the surface, however. How deep did it go?
“That’s her?”
“That’s all the Demon energy locked up inside of her,” said the Devil. “A little bit of an eye-sore, honestly. Don’t get me wrong though. I consider her quite the catch. Perhaps I’ll create a display case just for her. What do you think?”
I didn’t even bother to respond to this. I already knew what I needed to know now. Stepping on my own heels, I kicked off both of my shoes. I peeled my socks off
“Not so fast, Dante,” my father raised a cautionary stub. “There’s something you still ought to know.”
“Like what?” I said, biting back my own impatience.
“That’s no ordinary water. I like to call it liquid death. Demon or not, it will suck you dry. I’d give you about…a minute, perhaps? Give or take. And then it will devour your soul just like it’s devouring theirs. You’ll experience your worst memories and nightmares on an endless loop for the rest of eternity. I can only imagine what your warped little mind will produce.”
“I’m still going.”
“Oh, I know you are. The only reason I showed you this place is that I knew you’d be stupid enough to try and save her. And because I know you won’t make it out of there alive.”
I ignored him. Backed up for a running dive. Bolted forward.
I leapt and dove headfirst.
There was no tranquility in this moment. The moans and screams of damnation grew louder. Landing in the water was almost a relief, snuffing out their ghastly wailing.
Then the pain started. It was like something pricking at every pore of my body. Crawling under my skin.
I swam. Desperately. There was no time to spare.
There were just as many tormented souls underwater as there were floating on the surface. Their empty eyes stared past me, faces distorted in anguish. The way their red energy permeated through the water, it felt like swimming in blood. The bodies floating around me certainly didn’t help, spirit or not.
Monica’s blue energy was still just a mild drop in the distance. It was impossible to tell how far I still had to go. With all of these souls polluting the water, I could rarely see more than five feet in front of me. As I passed through one, yet another would be floating along, blocking the way.
I noticed my hands. They had discolored to an unhealthy shade of gray. Black veins spider-webbed out from my wrists to my fingers.
Not only my hands. My skin was on fire. But not like it was free-falling through the Hell Gate. This was the slow burn that went under the skin. It seeped through my flesh, and gripped my organs, and whispered to my heart: YOU ARE MINE.
Monica… I conjured her image in my head. Her name was my driving force. I swam with something that transcended desperation and love. I swam because everything in the universe and existence depended on it. Monica, Monica, Monica…
Dante?
The simple word entered my head—as if Monica spoke it with her own voice. I fumbled. But only for a second. I pushed myself back to speed, but kept my mind clear.
Dante, is that you? Her voice entered my head again.
Monica! I projected my thoughts. Oh my God, Monica, yes, it’s me! You can hear me?
I can hear you…but I can’t see anything. It’s so dark here. So empty. Where am I? What’s happening to me?
I didn’t get it. How could I hear her thoughts?
No sooner did I ask myself the question, I knew the answer. It was because she had part of me inside of her. Seven parts of me. Seven parts that completed each other. Hell, she probably had more of me inside her soul than I did.
Where are you? Monica asked.
I’m coming. I promise.
My strength faltered. I glanced back to my hands. They were now withered and emaciated. Monica’s blue glow burned brighter than ever, but already I felt on the verge of unconsciousness. The red souls around me became a blur. My limbs lost their coordination, floating hopelessly at my side.
No. This wasn’t unconsciousness. I was about to die. Dammit. I frantically pushed myself with everything my dying body could muster.
Monica, talk to me, I thought. I need you talk to me.
About what?
Anything.
Monica discerned my desperation. She spoke with that calm urgency reserved only for those moments when something is about to end forever. I didn’t even know what she was saying. I couldn’t make sense of her words. My body was in the denouement—playing out its tragic Grand Finale before the curtains closed. It didn’t re
ally matter. Her voice alone—even if it was just a thought in my head—was enough to keep me going.
I brushed past one final tormented soul. That’s when I saw her. Her blue lifeforce was a cloudless sky around her—somehow warded off every spirit within ten yards. Her lonely spirit floated by itself with unconscious elegance, bathed in sapphire. Her weightless hair opened around her face like rose petals in the sun. I was in such awe, I stopped swimming. Hell. As if I had any strength left. Instead, my sluggish momentum slowly carried me to her. I reached out to touch her. My dying hands made gentle contact with her transparent face rather than passing through. It took every last ounce of Demon power in me just to do that.
It was worth it.
My father was right. Thinking that I could save her and make it out of here alive was stupid. I barely had enough life to make it to her.
And yet…that was enough. I hadn’t saved her, but I sure as hell did everything I could. Dying alongside her didn’t seem bad at all. In fact…I could think of no other place I would rather die.
I kissed Monica one last time, hoping somehow, deep down, she could feel it.
***
I woke up.
That, in and of itself, was the biggest Goddamn shock of my life.
So when I realized I was somehow lying on water like a tangible surface, I found it relatively easy to accept. Of course! Why the hell not? Why wouldn’t I be lying on water?
With my face against the wet surface, I casually watched a school of goldfish swim beneath me.
It was a strange sensation pressing my hands firmly against the water and pushing myself upright. I glanced down at myself. Not only was my suit not wet from the water, but it was in mint condition. I glanced at my hands, front and back. Not a scratch.
Only now did I finally take in my scenery. Not that there was much to take in. Water stretched for as far I could see. Beyond the horizon stretched a cloudless sky. I had never seen so much blue in my life.
“You’re awake.”
I whipped around. There stood an all-too-familiar face staring back at me—a face that should have been dead. He had the same curly brown hair and stupid smile as ever. The only thing missing were the glasses.
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