“Your point?” Aries interrupts my internal musings, pulling me back to the issue at hand.
“My point is, where are you on duty at today if not down here? And who gave the orders for all four princes of Hell to be off? I sure as shit know I didn’t, so spill.” All of them look at each other, except Aries. His narrowed eyes never stray from mine. He appears to be thinking about something; the rest just look guilty as shit.
His jaw clenches and then releases. “No,” he says. Levi snickers and Lex lets out a breath of air.
Who does he think he is telling me no? Ways I can torture him pop into my mind, but none would work. He’s too stubborn to succumb to torture. I’ll have to think of a different play, one to get him to talk and to never defy me again. Even if his defiance makes my insides all hot and bothered. What is wrong with me?
My skin flushes with anger, my hair slowly heating with each passing second. The more I think about it, the four assholes in front of me act like I don’t even exist. They waltz around here, torturing the souls and frightening the demons, like some type of gods of the underworld. Like a woman can’t rule over them because men don’t need to take orders from a woman.
The next thing I know, my hair is swirling around me in bright red flames. My eyesight narrows as the irises change to slits. The wings that should be hidden in my skin ache. I haven’t let them free since my fall from Heaven; it’s the only part of this transformation I can control. My iridescent skin starts to glow to match my hair. The guys all take a step back. Even Aries seems uneasy as his eyes widen slightly and he shifts backward.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself, but the voices in my head telling me I’m not good enough for Heaven or to rule Hell play on repeat in my head. I hear my brothers’ voices laughing and mocking poor Lucia as I fall to my fate. If I can’t control four stubborn-ass princes, how can I rule Hell? The room gets increasingly hotter with each passing second. I want to rip all of my clothes off to relieve the burning of my skin. This is what happens when I get angry—I transform into this beast. The one humans are afraid of, the one I can’t control. My vision starts to darken as my senses become skewed. All rational thoughts leave my head.
“Lucia, take a deep breath,” one of the guys says, but the words are muffled in my brain.
Panic starts to rise as I try to wrestle myself back to my true form, not this sadistic version Dad turned me into when he cast me to Hell. As the flames on my head grow, the ends start to turn a dark red and the roots a deep blue. If they go completely blue, I won’t be able to stop it. The last time that happened, the world above suffered multiple catastrophic earthquakes which caused thousands of acres of forest fires. I wiped out three separate hidden civilizations and a few hundred species. Oh shit, oh shit. This can’t happen again. My pulse starts to race as I lose another thread of control.
“I don’t think she can hear you. Aries, do something! The last time this happened, she almost ended the world.” Lex’s voice breaks through the fog in my head, causing me even more guilt.
I try to claw at my skin. The sharp needles shooting down are too much for me to handle. I just want it to end. All of it—the pain, the disappointment, the loneliness.
A cool burst of water hits me, followed by a wave of cold air. My skin immediately stops burning, and the flames on my head go out under the icicles forming over my strands in their place. Taking a deep breath, my vision clears, revealing a wobbly Levi, who is leaning against the wall, water dripping from his hands, and a pissed-off Aries. His hair is windblown, like he’d been standing in a tornado.
“Thank you,” I gasp as I suck oxygen into my lungs. Using their elemental powers on me is no easy feat, and they’re probably just as exhausted as I am. When they were cast to Hell with me, they each were forged in one of the elements. It made them part human, not full angels or demons. Good for me, I suppose, at least when they help prevent the next apocalypse.
Lex places his hands under Levi’s arms, lifting him to his feet and helping him through the door. Ryce glares at me but walks out without a word. I stare up at Aries. His presence fills the room, but there’s a void missing without the others around.
“I just wanted to know where you all were going. As your queen, I deserve answers without you disobeying me.” Standing up straight, I push my soaked hair over my shoulder. “Are you always this much of an asshole?”
He cocks his head, his jaw clenched as he stands there silently, infuriating me. How can he not see how much of a jerk he is?
“Tell me what you all are up to and I won’t punish any of you for this.” I try to sound sincere in my veiled threat, but it comes out almost as a question. Like I’m asking him permission to tell me what I want to know.
With a shake of his head, he turns his back to me and starts to walk out.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” I yell. Mr. Pickles awakes from his sleep, a low growl rumbling from the corner bed. Aries doesn’t stop his exit; in fact, I swear I can hear a chuckle as he slams my golden door shut without a second thought. So much for controlling the princes of Hell. Great job, Lucia.
3
The River Styx swirls a dark hue of black and crimson beneath my dangling legs. The wooden dock I’m sitting on keeps me from falling into the purgatory below. Not that it would hurt me if I did, I just hate going down there. All the begging and screaming tends to grate on my nerves. It’s where the lost souls go. The ones who try to jump off the boat bringing them in, or the ones who refuse to accept their punishment. Banishing them to the pits below for a millennia or two helps keep the overcrowding out of the wings we currently have running.
River Styx is the only entrance into or out of Hell. Some days we have an influx of activity; others we bring in maybe a few dozen souls. Which, considering about a hundred thousand people die a day, a few dozen is pretty slim. The way these souls talk about Earth, it sounds like it’s running amok with dangers and terrors everywhere. You’d think the numbers would be higher.
I kick my feet, letting my toes dip into the water, the lukewarm liquid caressing my skin. Leaning back on my elbows, I close my eyes and picture myself outside with the sun shining down on me. I don’t really remember much from my stint on Earth for the few short moments I landed there before coming to Hell, but I’ll never forget the feel of the heated rays soaking into my skin. The burning sensation was a mystery to me at the time; now it’s laughable, since that’s the only sensation down here.
The water picks up, the waves crashing into my ankles and splashing onto my thighs. On time as always, a dense fog rolls across the surface as the river boat breaks through the edges. I always try to see how it breaks the barrier, crossing from one pane of existence to the next, but the fog hides the entrance every single time. Once the boat is gone, the river will slow, no waves in sight, once again appearing like a sheet of glass.
Sitting up, I pull my feet under me and stand. Might as well greet the newcomers since I’m here. The stress from earlier with the princes and my frustration at being stuck in this hellhole has finally hit me. Snapping my fingers, I change my clothes to greet the new souls. If everyone is going to act like I have no authority down here, I better start taking it back. One ship at a time.
I glance down at the new outfit I chose—a flaming red body suit, suction cupped to my skin. No one will doubt who I am. The faux tail at the back and the little horns from my headband pull the ridiculous ensemble together. Except, instead of looking like a cheap costume, I make the horns spit flames, and the tail has barbed wire on the ends. If people want to fuck with me, I’ll give them the badass devil they think they know.
A grin spreads across my lips as the captain, Charon, comes into view. He pulls the black hood from his head, revealing his darkened eyes sitting in his bony face. He watches me as his lips pull down at the corners, obviously not as pleased as I am with the getup I’m wearing. He shakes his head, then rolls his eyes before pulling the hood back over his skeletal face. His own way of sayin
g he’s not messing with me today. Good. At least someone knows their place down here.
As the first soul crosses onto the dock, I wave my hand rapidly while grinning like a lunatic. What can I say? Meeting with the souls is the one thing that makes my day exciting. A younger soul, only twenty years old, stares at me with wide eyes. I suppose the reality of his situation is sinking in currently. I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant feeling.
“Holy shit, you’re real?” he stammers as his steps falter. “Oh God, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
A chuckle bursts past my lips at his utter horror. Seriously, you don’t get sent here for something small and insignificant. “Nope, no God here. Just me.” I point to the devil horns I’m currently wearing.
He stops before me but keeps glancing behind him at Charon, who is still on the boat loading others off. Charon shakes his head at the soul but doesn’t speak. I adore Charon. He’s the only one around here who understands the masterpiece that is my sense of humor.
“I…I didn’t think you were real…or a girl,” he continues, stammering like a blubbering idiot.
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms across my chest. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Save me the drama from your realization that you’re in Hell. Welcome to Hell. I’m Lucia, the devil. I’m a girl, unlike what you humans were taught from the beginning. You sin, you end up here.” I talk in a drab voice like I’m playing on a record player instead of speaking face-to-face. It’s the same thing every time with the souls—it gets exhausting. “So, what did you do to get here?”
He looks me up and down, staring at my outfit before they land on the barbed-wire tail. “Umm…I didn’t do much. Actually, I shouldn’t even be here. It must have been a mistake.”
That’s what they all say. Honestly I can probably guess what he’s going to say next at this point in time. Something like, “It wasn’t me, I was framed.”
“It wasn’t me—my friend framed me, and I got sent here instead of Heaven where I should have went.” Bingo! He crosses his incorporeal arms, and a pout sets on his translucent face. “We were at a grocery store, and my friend decided to rob the cashier for the money—you know, for some extra cash we needed. But the gun went off and killed the cashier before we could make it out of there. All an accident.”
I glance up above his head at the crimes he committed and the sins that sent him here. Accomplice to murder, robbery, adultery, attempted murder. The souls don’t realize they have a walking billboard above them when they first enter Hell. Makes my life easier knowing which wing to send them to. “Yeah, I’m not buying it. But before you continue, what’s a grocery store again?”
His eyebrows draw down as his head tilts when he hears my question. Yeah, that’s right, buddy. I don’t care why you’re here. I just want to know about life on Earth.
“Um, it’s a big store with food in it. You can buy stuff to eat. I dunno, it’s just like a huge open area with different foods to pick from, then you buy what you want.” He shrugs.
A store dedicated to just food? That’s amazing! I wonder if I could put one of those in down here.
A clearing of a throat pulls my attention toward the boat. Charon is standing there glaring at me, the line of souls backed up because I’m holding up the entire line with grocery store murderer. “Sorry!” I call out. Turning back to the soul, I glance him over one more time. “Yeah, what you did was fucked-up. You have some hefty charges against you. I should send you to the east wing with the other murderers.”
His eyes widen as he becomes even more panicked. I hold up my hand to stop whatever nonsense is about to come out of his mouth. “But, since you’re young and didn’t have time to truly repent, I’ll send you to the north wing. Don’t make me regret my decision. Now move along.” He nods rapidly as he follows where I’m pointing toward the different gates. Shaking my head, I glance up at the line ahead of us. Apparently it’s going to be a busy day.
The last of the souls cross from the boat path into their respective lanes, each one glancing wearily behind them at me before crossing into the correct wing for the start of their punishment. Only one out of thirty fell off into purgatory, which isn’t too bad. If it keeps going at this rate, I’ll have to find another area to stash the departed souls to be tortured.
Most of them are heading to the north wing—petty sins that they’ll pay for the next few years. One went to the west wing—apparently a famous singer, who all the other souls didn’t seem too shocked to see down here. I guess it was a big scandal and everything up on the living side. I learned about a few new things: the grocery store, what a library was, and that they have pet dogs up there too.
A loud noise pulls my attention back to Charon. He is pulling the chain crank with his bony fingers. My stomach drops as I see the solid metal doors shift with each turn of the pulley. There wasn’t a deader for the south wing on the list for today. I checked it twice before coming to the docks. The hiss of the door’s seal breaking from the floor causes my stomach to roll. With Aries only God knows where, there’s no one here to escort the deader to the south wing. I glance at the black iron doors bolted shut at the wing’s entrance, hoping someone, any freaking demon, will appear to escort the soul through the gates. But when the doors don’t open and no one magically appears besides the boat, reality jump-starts my heart and kicks me square in the gut. I guess this is the only part of my job that no one wants to take over for me. Just great.
First comes the stench. It tickles the nose like the scent of moldy wet grass that’s been sitting in the sun too long, the kind you see right after a harsh winter, and all the snow melts, leaving behind the muck that’s been rotting all season. A smell of death with a tinge of sour. Then come the sounds. I always thought deaders were creepy enough with the way they look, but for some reason when they die, they make this horrific sound of agony. A loud high-pitched scream flows out of its open mouth. Its eyes are black as the night, but it hasn’t fully transitioned to the pile of rotting gray skin just yet. Nope, this one is a fresh soul. And from the looks of its blackened chest area, it was almost pure evil. I mean, yeah, all deaders are evil, but some tend to have a boatload more of demon blood running through them, and this one is one of them.
Charon grabs the steel chains wrapped around the deader’s hands and feet, pulling it fully out of the cage. He gives it a tight tug, dragging it off the boat toward me. It lets out a louder scream, and I slap my hands over my ears to block out the sound. I wonder if I disappeared, if Charon would escort him through the gates for me.
His hood falls back, and his bony face comes into view, staring me down like he knows what I’m thinking. His darkened eyes narrow as he approaches. As he slaps the chains into my hands, a squeal passes through my lips. All bow to the almighty queen—yeah right. More like the chickenshit of Hell. Charon shakes his head, rolling his eyes he turns around and heads back to the boat. Effectively leaving me alone with the dilapidated soul.
As the boat disappears from view, an eerie silence falls around us. I really shouldn’t make eye contact with the deader. All it takes is one gaze into their eyes or at least where their eyes should be, and I can see every bad thing the soul did while alive on Earth. I only made that mistake once with a soul named Gacy or something; the things I saw that day made me vomit all of my supper up. It also pissed me off so much that I may have lit his remaining soul on fire with my Hell’s touch. The eternal flame of damnation. The only neat trick Dad gave me when he banished me down here. It’ll melt the skin off someone, then regrow so it can melt it off again from the inside out. I don’t use it often, but when it’s needed, Aries usually summons me down.
Thinking of Aries has my blood boiling again. He skipped out on his duties today, and now I have to cover for him. He is such a pain in my ass. Grumbling, I pull the deader along toward the door. His wails become louder, and my eardrums start to shake from the sound waves. My vision blurs with each passing second as the pounding in my head doesn’t let up. I’m t
empted to push the soul into the lake behind us, but they don’t do well in purgatory. Or I should say purgatory doesn’t do well with them. They’ll throw the deader back out in a heartbeat—apparently all the screaming is too much even for people in eternal damnation. I can’t say I blame them. Right now I’d rather be shoving an ice pick into my eyeball than listening to it.
With a yank of the chain, I drag it along faster toward the gate. I need to get my shit together. I’m the queen of the underworld, the female Lucifer. I can handle one deader by myself. What could possibly go wrong?
4
Well, apparently a lot could go wrong. Wiping the sweat from my face, I wrestle the deader into his cell. As it crosses the threshold it stops, then lets out a loud shriek like its being electrocuted. I freeze, unsure of what is actually happening. I don’t know if this is normal or not since I tend to avoid this step in the process. And it has been ages since I last escorted a deader into their cell, but I definitely don’t remember this happening. A demon stands off to the right, side-eyeing me with squinted red eyes. Either it’s curiosity or disgust that it’s shooting toward me, but honestly at this point I don’t even care.
A whisper floats through the hallway. “I would back up if I were you” is all I hear right before the deader stops shrieking and its skin explodes off its body. All over me. The gray slime coats my entire body, dripping into my eyes.
“Fucking A!” I scream as I slam the chamber door shut. The wails distinguish immediately behind the solid iron door, which apparently is soundproofed. I wipe the remnants from my eyes and flick it to the floor, trying not to gag in the process. Glancing down, I see the coating all over my ridiculous devil outfit. “What in Hell’s name was that?” I mutter under my breath.
For Hell's Sake (Queen of the Underworld Series Book 1) Page 2
