Hell Bound (The Immortal Balances- Book 1)

Chapter Two: Charming Demon

I was surprised I hadn't been ripped to shreds after travelling through Hell's void.

"No!" I shouted again as the black hole swallowed me whole. For a brief moment I could still see Dad's devious look as he watched me fall, hear the screams of my sister as she desperately tried to come after me, smelt the familiar scent burning flesh fade away, and felt the power I'd grown so accustomed to melt from my essence, until eventually all I could sense was the betrayal, anger and hatred in my veins.

Everything was dark, and I knew that even if I had my powerful sight, I wouldn't have been able to penetrate the black blanket that had covered my eyes. I was falling and falling, as if tumbling down a hole into a bottomless pit with no hope of salvation.

This was it. My end.

And then all of a sudden, there was a light.

Landing with a painful thump, I wobbled dizzily as my new eyes tried to take in the brightness that was blinding me. They took a few seconds to finally adjust, the light blurring slowly from colours to shapes and finally to objects which I slowly began to recognise. I'd landed in a skip in some sort of alley, covered in dust and surrounded by rubbish and trash. The smell wasn't too great either, as my new human nose took in the stench that I was enclosed in. Rotten eggs and vomit. It was as if Dad had somehow planned for the void to drop me in this particular spot, as if to demonstrate just how much he thought of me as trash.

Oh the irony.

My first thought was that my usual snazzy black suit was officially ruined, but when I glanced down I had to do my best to suppress a gasp, quickly re-regarding my worries as I realised I wasn't wearing my suit. I couldn't forget to give Dad some credit. He was truly evil.

Being the all and mighty powerful lord of the Underworld meant that whilst his powers in part were limited, he still had a great amount of control over certain areas outside of his demon duties. That being the power to torment his victims in whichever way he saw truly fitting.

For me, that had been to 'alter' my clothes.

He'd swapped my much loved fitted shirt and blazer for that of a plain and cheap white t-shirt that bore the logo of what looked like a football team, made from such a thin fabric I was sure it would rip if I tugged at all on it. My skinny trousers had been replaced by flared out dark jeans that were fraying at the hems, and the black patent black shoes I'd stolen from the Devil himself were gone. What I now wore on my feet was a pair of discounted sneakers that I were sure were second hand, and seemed to be quite worn out.

To be fair, I was quite surprised he hadn't ensured any items of clothing bore any holes.

Of course, he still had to maintain the whole parent reputation so he clearly couldn't take his punishment too far.

How father-like of him.

Sighing, I picked myself up the best that I could among the soft and squashy trash and jumped out of the skip, unfortunately landing pathetically and grazing my hand. I was clearly lacking in the demon powers department.

I rose to my feet and took in my surroundings.

I could tell I was near a beach since there was a high intensity of sea salt in the air that I could taste on my tongue and I could faintly hear seagulls in the distance. It also felt quite warm, the temperature cuddling my skin a little as I began to wonder out of the alley. The road that led on from there was still, bar a cat that was hurriedly bounding away from me. Buildings towered over me with each step, worn and in need of a paint job which told me that wherever Dad had banished me to wasn't Hollywood or high-class London. Of course he wouldn't send me somewhere bearable: he had to make my now mundane existence that every bit not worth living.