Hell's Angel (EDITING)

42 - James | Meeting Satan

The rancid smell of burning flesh knocked a bout of nausea into me as soon as I opened up the portal in the middle of an empty parking lot. The scent at least washed away all my doubts about leaving Andrew safe at home. A smile still tugged at the corners of my lips; the last thing they'd uttered were the same words that he had.

I braced myself and dropped down to hell, landing on hot coals that burned through the soles of my black converse. Hell was worse than how I remembered it.

Tall pyres were placed around in no specific design, decaying and collapsing. Even the torches that lined the walls had fallen from their neat little rows. Flaming pitchforks were scattered on the ground as if there had been a fight—But, the Hell-fire burned brighter and higher, more powerful than I ever recalled it being.

I picked my way through fractured skulls and shattered glass to Danyel's quarters. His office was empty, heaps of ignored paperwork piled on his desk and strewn around the floor. I frowned and tried the door to the left; it was locked, as always. Danyel had never let me in, but I knew the passage behind the door ran close to the heart of hell—where Satan resided.

As I stepped back outside, a pair of crimson eyes peeked up at me from deep pits in the ground. Dozens of demons started crawling out, clawing the debris out of the way and picking up their pitchforks.

I folded my arms across my chest and stood my ground as they circled around me. They could smell fear so I didn't let it roll off me. An older demon with red-tipped horns stepped towards me, glowering suspiciously as I stayed in my human form.

'We've been hearing tales, James.'

'Have you now?' I asked cooly, staring him down.

'Tales that you're an Angel of some sort.' The other demons growled in agreement. So they knew.

'I'm here to see Danyel,' I interrupted, 'So if you'll just excuse me—'

'Ohhohoh, not so fast!' The demon stepped in front of me, blocking my path. A sinister smile splayed slyly across his maligned features. 'Satan wants to see you.'

Demons crowded behind me, pitchforks in hand. I rolled my eyes and shrugged casually, allowing the older demon to lead the way—Satan probably had Marie locked up close to him. And I wasn't afraid of the Lord of Darkness any longer.

The charcoal path twisted and turned in a gradual descent as we made our way inwards. Steep slopes and steps hewn into jagged black cliffs aided our downward climb. Magic surged in the air, growing more and more powerful the deeper we went. The last time I had been at the heart of hell was during the graduation ceremony. The energy force had never felt this intense.

As we neared Satan's onyx castle and the lands around it, everything started to look much more in place. Neat rows of flaming torches lined the path on either side, the ash and cinders spewing from it being hurriedly swept up by the humans assigned to each one. Odd. I don't recall Satan ever having the humans do menial tasks as punishment—he mostly allowed them to punish themselves with their own self destructing depravity.

The castle loomed menacingly above us. Jagged onyx shards protruded from its structure, piercing the wine-coloured skies with sword-like slivers. A dark shadow fell over us as we neared, sending a chill up my spine and a cold clamminess in my palms.

I wiped them off discreetly, shoving my hands in my pockets to hide my trembling fingers. I'd felt my power growing vaster than I could ever imagine when I had transformed—but the magic here was much stronger than it had been.

The power within me surged and strengthened as I stepped through the stone doors. Marie. She must be near. I hoped she could feel her magic growing stronger as well near my presence.

With newfound confidence I stalked ahead, quickening my pace as I got near the throne room where my magic hummed and intensified. Throwing open the doors I saw my sister right away.

She sat proudly on a throne made of glass and bone.

Her prom dress was torn and blackened, the organza overskirt burnt at the edges and peppered in holes. It's roses were wilting, spilling jet-black petals at her feet.

'Marie?' I gasped, falling to my knees as the guard prodded me with his flaming pitchfork.

Her halo tipped precariously over a pair of sharp-edged horns. She still had her wings; they were larger than ever but the colour of soot. She stared down at me, her smoky eyes flickering mystically between a clear blue lake and a river of blood.

'I go by Satan now.' She smiled. 'Welcome to hell.'