Hell Hath No Fury, page 2
The Imp wondered if his Dark Lord might make him into an abomination. If he was given the opportunity to choose a new form, an abomination was the form he’d choose. He always admired their size and strength. He had made sure, on countless occasions, to mention as much to his Dark Lord.
In a blink, he was in the Hunting Grounds and only moments from the reward the Imp had now convinced himself was his to take. The rolling hills of sparkling obsidian made his tiring legs tremble as he panted and pushed his way toward the Great Hall. The flesh weavers dangled silently from their fleshy webs, not so much as twitching at the Imp’s presence.
The slapping of his long feet and the clicking of his stout claws echoed throughout the Great Hall and intertwined with the wailing of the damned that hung from the towering, white, marble walls. The soft trickling of their blood fell into the river of souls that ran beneath them, and the cracking of dominatrices’ whips punctuated each cry like a symphony for the Imp’s important day. He was tempted to linger in its melody as the end of the Great Hall came upon him, but with it came the Pit of his Dark Lord, and his already great eagerness to find out the reason for his summons swelled to a nearly unbearable force. Not even Legion, who towered before the entrance to the Pit, could ruin the Imp’s mood.
Today, he didn’t even bother addressing Legion but simply darted between their legs without a word. He felt Legion’s many hate-filled eyes fall upon him as he passed, which made him smile even more.
Quickly, he scurried down the great steps, down toward his Dark Lord’s feet, averting his gaze the entire time. Before him, sitting upon a towering throne of blood and bone, the Imp’s master rested silently. The only sound the Imp could hear now was the powerful roar of the eternal fire that burned beneath the circular floor of his master’s throne room.
The pit was warm, and the air was thick. The flickers of orange and red danced along the tormented faces carved into the stony walls. The Imp was practically giddy with excitement. The Dark Lord’s tongue flicked and rolled behind his jagged teeth, within his fiery mouth, as his voice bellowed, low and strong. The Imp could sense an urgency in his voice, and his hope for a new demonic form faded, turning his excited mood to one of dreadful unease. The Imp shuttered in the ancient one’s presence and kept his gaze averted. He listened closely as the Dark Lord spoke.
“And so, I am in need of something from the mortal realm, minion,”
The Imp was struck with shocked confusion. His all-powerful master possessed the entirety of the underworld. What could the mortal realm have that he would desire? Souls and flesh from above already poured into Hell in numbers too great to count. What missing need had his Dark Lord in such an urgent mood?
“...a cat,” was what the Dark Lord finally commanded.
A cat, the Imp thought to himself but dared not question aloud the desires of his lord. Instead, the Imp simply hissed, “Yessssss.”
Before scampering off, the Imp stepped toward his master, swallowed hard, and with a quiver in his voice added, “I wonder, your most unclean, that perhaps a more powerful Hell spawn might be better suited for a trip to the mortal realm?”
His Dark Lord spoke not but simply stared at the tiny, shaking creature cowering at his hooves. The Imp dared not look back up at his master. The crackle of flames carried on from below the floor of the Pit, filling the silence with white noise. The Imp was the first to speak. “I mean not to question your—"
“Then do not question,” the Dark Lord commanded. “I have chosen you for your loyalty, your cunning, and your speed. I trust you shall retrieve the cat without incident or detection. Now, go.”
The Imp nodded then turned and climbed the massive steps leading out of the pit. He wanted to ask for what purpose the Dark Lord wanted a cat but decided not to press his luck. He considered it a minor miracle that he had not been punished for the first question he’d asked but considered it due for well over a century of loyal, unquestioning service.
Legion, who towered hundreds of feet above the Imp, let out a snicker as the Imp came walking past. Of course, They would have heard everything. The Imp hated Legion as much as anyone, possibly more. They were arrogant, but the Imp supposed they had cause to be. A smirk graced Legions face of many faces as it watched the Imp scamper off.
A cat? He could not believe it. It made no sense.
As he slowly made his way back through Hell, his mood curdled as he replayed the orders from his master over and over in his mind.
What qualities a cat could offer the Dark Lord that no such terrible creature from his own domain could? Am I not cruel enough? Should I have been more indifferent to master’s needs, colder somehow? The Imp’s pace slowed as the burden of his thoughts and worry that he had done something wrong pressed down on him.
Before he knew it, the Imp was back in the Killing Fields and an abomination approached him.
“For what purpose were you summoned? Is the Dark Lord going to finally change your form? Perhaps allow you to join his Dread Guard?” the abomination asked from the mouths of babes.
The Imp peered up at the six cherub faces that looked back at him with their twelve blackened eyes. Veins pulsated along its thick, muscular limbs of six arms and six legs. It was like majestic centaurs elevated to a level of terror few could possibly know.
“I’m to go to the realm of mortals,” the Imp responded, not wanting to give any other details. He wasn’t particularly proud of the assignment that had been thrust upon him.
“The realm of the mortals?” The twelve, unblinking eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “What for? I was certain you were finally being reborn.”
The Imp sighed heavily. He knew there was no getting around it, and he really didn’t care because what was the point of it all anyway? “I’m going to retrieve a live cat for his most damned and unworthy, the Dark Lord.”
The silence that hung between them was made so much clearer by the screams of the distant damned that suffered throughout the unspeakable fields.
“For what misdeed have you been punished?” The words came out with sweet laughter of children and the wailing of the dead.
“I don’t know,” the Imp growled back then his shoulders slumped as his arms fell, lifeless at his sides. “I’ve been nothing but obedient to the most ancient one. I have only ever done what was asked of me.”
“Perhaps,” the abomination mused, “the Dark Lord has thrust upon you one final test? Few are sent to the realm of mortals. It makes sense when you think about it. Such a difficult task in such an inhospitable place.”
“That does make sense.” The Imp let the suggestion roll around in his head for a moment. The knots that had been forming in his stomach loosened, and he straightened out his spine. “Yes, that has to be it! There is no reason to want a cat. It’s absurd. It has to be a test! One I will complete without incident or delay.”
“I look forward to seeing you pass back through here with your prize. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat.”
The Imp ran off before the abomination could even finish speaking.
I’ll get my Dark Lord a cat, and He will finally remake me. Then, I shall slay many in the His name, the Imp thought as he raced back through Hell to the portal that would take him to the realm of mortals.
Through miles of fading worry, and in what felt like the blink of an eye, he was back in the Necropolis. In the distance, he could hear the hammers of the Soul Smiths falling upon the hot steel from the tower at the heart of the Necropolis. The Imp let his mind drift to thoughts of the weapons they were crafting, of war and the slaughter of angels. For a moment a smile graced his face until a voice came roaring in and crashed through the Imps daydream.
“Souls, souls, come get your souls,” the obnoxious voice yelled. The Imp saw that it belonged to a rather plump demon with four thin, short arms jutting out of a round body and two large horns that curled up and out of its head. “Dripping with sin and tasty on rolls! Dip them in fire or eat them from bowls! What are you waiting for? Come get your souls!”
The Imp accidentally made eye contact with the overzealous salesdemon, who quickly pounced on him. “You there, Imp! Now, you look like a demon of discerning tastes! How about it? I’ve got souls of all kinds, with or without the flesh suits!”
“I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got no time. Urgent business for the Dark Lord,” the Imp answered with a curt wave and a quick turn as it walked away.
“The Dark Lord, eh? You look awfully thin, perhaps a soul to fill you up? It would only aid you in your unholy task.”
The Imp ignored the soul peddler and went on his way, eager to put distance between himself and the tenacious demon.
Once he was out of the Necropolis, the Imp made quick work of traversing the dangerous Blood Bog then picked back up to a sprint through the smooth, flat, expanse that was the Erinyes’ Feast. In the darkness above, the Erinyes circled as they hunted the mortals that ran through their feasting grounds. Though he was not looking forward to the Mortal Realm, the Imp did enjoy watching the Erinyes hunt down their prey.
Finally, the Imp reached the Fall. The sound of new damned souls that came screaming in from above, and landing on the hard ground with a satisfying squish. Even better was the sound of their screams when they healed, only to be made into a home or a meal by a beast of burden.
He didn’t take the time to enjoy it now though. He had a task to complete, and complete it he would. He scurried over to a rock face, carved deep with ancient runes, and bellowed ancient sounds that the mortals could not understand. The runes glowed orange, and a portal opened. As the Imp entered, he heard the wonderful wail of terror and pain close behind him. He looked back in time to see a mortal being dug into by a beast of burden.
Never gets old, The Imp thought to himself with a chortle as he turned and closed the portal behind him.
3
Kelso had so far been a good fit for Delilah. Small enough to feel comfortable and cozy but big enough that she didn’t know everyone, and not everyone knew her. The latter being the most important distinction. A fresh start at life was the reason she had moved to Washington to begin with. Shame washed over her as she remembered the last time she’d had a drink, and the fight that came with it. She never wanted to be that person again.
You forgot to reply to Gabby.
“Shit.” She reached for her phone, but changed her mind. “I’ll see her in a few minutes. Just hope she’s not too mad.”
Her past was something she’d eventually have to share with Gabby. She knew that. Provided their relationship continued along its current path, and Delilah hoped it would, there would be no avoiding the tough conversations that lie ahead.
The thought of it made her uncomfortable, so she turned up the radio and focused on the cool feeling of the air flowing over her as she drove over the river and into Longview. Unleash the Archers came screaming in through her speakers. The furious wailing of guitar and the rhythmic pounding of drums elicited looks from passersby. Delilah was undeterred and sang along with the harmonious screams of the power metal band. Delilah let her head bob and her hands drum along on the steering wheel as the traffic started to tighten up around her.
When she finally pulled up to work, Gabby was already standing at the front door. Delilah parked her Jeep in the spot up front and hopped out. The small plaza of shops was dead in the morning, and if not for the sound of the morning commuters, these moments would be as still as Delilah’s front porch.
“Hey, Boss Lady,” Gabby called out to her with a wave, “Ready to kick some butt?”
Delilah jumped out of her Jeep and yanked her duffle bag out from the back seat. She was glad to see Gabby wasn’t upset with her, but that was the thing about Gabby: her heart was a mile wide and twice as deep. “I’m always ready. Come on now. You’re talking to the one and only Delilah Jones here.”
Gabby laughed as Delilah opened the door. “Of course, the Delilah Jones and her ever faithful sidekick, Gabby Gonzales. You know, sounds like the two of us should go into the crime fighting business.”
Delilah smiled and walked through the door, then turned around as she continued walking backwards. “Sure, get us a couple badass costumes and I’m all in.”
“I think the two of us would look mighty fine in a couple of spandex onesies,” Gabby joked. Delilah laughed, then turned back around and headed to her office.
If only Gabby knew how hard it was to fight crime, how it would wear her down, Delilah thought as flashes of her badge and gun forced themselves into her mind. The phantom weight of her old firearm seemed to pull at her hand. She could still feel the heat coming off the barrel.
She knew full and well what it meant to fight crime, and Gabby would most certainly not be able to hack it. Gabby was soft, despite her obvious physical fitness. It was her heart and mind that Delilah thought would crumble under the pressure of preserving law and order, or more to the point, the weight of failing to, and the tough, split-second choices that came with it. That softness though, that was what Delilah liked most about Gabby. Teaching other women to defend themselves and find their own strength? Well, as far as Delilah was concerned, that was the next best thing she could do with what she had learned.
In her office, Delilah dropped her bag on the floor beside the wall and sat at her desk. She leaned back in her office chair and Gabby appeared at the door with two light knocks as the computer booted up.
“Hey,” she said, a tension hidden beneath her casual tone. “So about my text this morning. I just want to get things out in the open before the moment passes.”
Delilah looked up at Gabby with solemn eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply. I just…I don’t know how to explain it.” She paused for a moment to find words that wouldn’t hurt Gabby or confuse the poor woman any more than she already was. “I’m slow, and I’m not ready, but I will be. I promise I will. There’s just some things I want you to know, but I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about them yet. If that makes sense.”
Gabby glanced at the floor as Delilah spoke. “Yeah, I guess it does, but it still hurts. I sometimes think we’ll be a couple of old viejas by the time you’re ready to talk to me about it. Then I wonder whether this is worth it. If you even think I’m worth it.”
Gabby met Delilah’s eyes again to reveal a forced smile that seemed to want to keep the conversation as light as possible before succumbing to the weight of her feelings and swiftly slipped away as she spoke again.
“I feel like you don’t trust me. If you don’t trust me, who can you trust? If you don’t trust me, how am I supposed to trust you?”
“You can trust me,” Delilah argued. “I want you in my life. I feel like I’ve shown you that over and over. It’s just this one thing. I need time.”
The two of them stared at each other with longing and pain in their eyes, as if in just a moment the two of them had been separated by miles of space and time, until a chime from Delilah’s computer cut through the silence.
“Oh.” Gabby looked at her feet then back at Delilah. “I wanted to ask you something, less personal and more professional.”
“Let’s hear it,” Delilah replied, as she turned to her monitor and opened her spreadsheets.
“Well, we’ve been working together for about six months now, and I’ve really come to enjoy my job for the first time in my life and, well, how do you feel about me leading some of the classes on my own? I think I’m ready and it feels like the next logical step.”
Delilah, eager to placate the woman she cared for so dearly and put the argument behind them, answered without hesitation. “I think that sounds like a great idea. How about today? This afternoon?”
“Okay,” Gabby responded with a nervous excitement hidden in her voice.
“Okay. How about you take the afternoon classes and I just don’t come back after lunch? Think you could handle closing shop?”
“I think I can manage.” Gabby would have jumped for joy had the joy not already been taken out of the air in the small office. She simply nodded her head once at Delilah.
“Here,” Delilah said as she picked up the keys and tossed them to Gabby. “The keys to the kingdom. All yours. Just bring them back to me after work. I’ll have dinner ready if you feel up to joining me. No pressure of course.”
Gabby nearly missed the catch but snagged them just before they bounced off her hands. She looked back at Delilah. “Yeah, I can manage that. I’ll let you know how I feel about dinner. I might be pretty worn out by then.”
Both ladies gave one another a nod, then Delilah ended the conversation. “I’ve got some books to keep, if you wanna—"
“Yeah, I’ll go prep for class.”
Gabby left, but a second later she poked her head back in. “Hey, Devin just texted me. He’s stopping by Red Leaf. You want anything?”
Delilah lifted her thermos and gave it a shake, then looked at Gabby. “Yeah, I’ll take a coffee, cream and sugar if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Sure.” Gabby left Delilah to her work but stopped and stepped back into the doorway. “Oh, one more thing.” Gabby reached into her pocket and produced a small black cylinder. She tossed it toward Delilah, who had to stand up to catch the wild throw. “I think I pocketed this when I was over last. I’m sure Momo is missing her most formidable foe.”
Delilah opened her hand to reveal a small laser pointer. She smiled and shifted in her seat as she slipped it into the small pocket in the waistband of her yoga pants. She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m handing over the keys to my business to a thief of all people. First my heart, then my laser pointer.”
Gabby responded with a half-hearted smile and left without another word to begin prepping the floor.
***
Delilah was feeling better after the two morning self-defense classes. It was a great workout and always left her feeling as though she had done something to make the world just a little safer for women than it had been before. Though no amount of exercise would ever see her as petite as Gabby, it always made her feel stronger and more in control of not just her body, but her life. It also made her work up an appetite, and she was more than delighted to see that her watch was now showing 11:43 AM. The next class wouldn’t arrive for about an hour, so this was the perfect time for her to get her things and head home.
